DEAF MCCOY

they counted it all joy, to set the fire ablaze and destroy!

it mattered very little to their anguished mind : all of the memories now spoiled rotten in time.

‘it’s just a book’ : why would one insist to read it as if they could look? thus, they burned the pages alive – claiming what was left over, was made broken, abused, and unable to thrive…”

the ghost of this feeling?

seeks a remedy of healing!

the spirit of those words cried, after the flame once stole their flesh and the pages dyed…

into a thick smoky black ink….

staining fingers until blemishes could think:

towards the water and richly lathered soap,

attempting to wash away unfettered desires, and forged hope!

what was taken may be placed again!

through a loop, appearing now and then…

by a vision or through the dream portal:

charms enlighten briefly, yet remain mortal.

a sound that went unheard, until the smoke choked the air and their third eye vision became blurred!

paying service to the record which made them nervous : they’ve relinquished all possibilities : although nearly drowning in the deep blue seas, all of the flees couldn’t hurriedly leave their dog. Was it the surface or the smog – which stalled the cog to a destabilizing fog?

this happened to be the case for Deaf McCoy!

they not knowing : the heat could extinguish their joy!

” ‘cuz what about, all of the work that was put in?” as the 3 out of 5 recommend : the enemy and friend – to sit at the table of consumed ends, the start of which may transcend, with a flamed wire which only until now has to expire!

🔥🔥🔥to all the pages and names which were written in search of the answer. they found the dancer, grooving within the melodies of a boiling heat! a burning revival – reaching towards the back alleys and crowded street!

i repeat deaf mccoy : they not knowing the heat could extinguish their joy !

Inspired

Inspired to go somewhere.

To fly into the presence of persuasion.

To count the stars while breathing in the dust from starlight pyramids.

I’m looking to find deep treasures buried in the bowl of my intent.

I’m not always ready to face the monster of realization because it taunts imagination.

I can clearly see where I’m gonna be.

I can taste the freshest waters of futuristic manifestation.

Yet here I stand.

Frail with a desire to move but lacking the gas and stimulation needed to cough up a revival of the chase.

When one can feel the power of intensity one then realizes the goal of emphasis.

The Word is moving upon my lips, and my vision is multiplying into endless translations.

My life is turning into a maze of possibilities.

Never before have doors become reflections of interest.

In the heat of my incentive, I’m inspired to reach places unseen before.

I’m following the trail of ancestral geometry.

The guide of the stars is mapped by close study of arrival.

I’ve been preparing myself.

I’m having to really trust myself more than ever.

I’ve always had people tell me I’m capable and I really believe it – but now I’m having to put that in motion.

Something about being 24 // Love is serving me some demands.

I’m just having to trust that all of this study is gonna pay off.

(Which I know it will) it’s just my experiences are teaching me a lot about myself.

New things are happening.

Still dealing with this and dealing and that.

Now more than ever my perception is being framed by my experiences and actions.

I’m inspired to redeem that which was lost.

To mend that what was invisibly broken, but now clearly seen in lines ahead.

Inspired to be.

Inspired for the sake of inspiration.

Inspired because there is work ahead.

I’m inspired because there is a fire in the motivation of silent motion.