2:TwOtOToO

it is
cuz’ it has been
and will be
just as it must return

like a boomerang burned
with dragon teeth fangs,
it’ll cut with fire
like an electrified barbed wire

slicing your attire
exposing your repentance of skin and flame…
in aim to frame, what exactly is that ‘AFRICAN’ name?

“I’m on my way back home!”

“really? without me, how did you get a ticket so fast?”

-___-

I mean I’m going back to the house!

Ha, ha,

I swore you were a mouse! 

Except I caught them packaging the cheese, with a request for MORE PLEASE! a little like a tease, but with a swift breeze, I hereby grant you the keys :::

to return back to the zone whereby you are closer to home in spirit and mind.

don’t go blind to the sound, extend in reach of the palindrome : (remembering not just from the dome) but also the written word.

it needn’t be absurd!

2 two too to : is also on a two’sday!

INSIDE OUT // outside in

this poem is an exchange between and Sylina and I! her writing is of elephant magnitude – in terms of the weight in how it compels me to carry through. you can find many more of her writings here: http://www.4eyesopened.wordpress.com/

All change ain’t good change, and boy have you changed
From the inside out you’ve transformed,
Not much remained the same.
Sure you still look good, you’ve kept yourself up…
But some of your inner beauty has faded, could it be because you lie so much?
Could the change have come about because your principles and morals have gone bad?
Because you’ve cast away the good memories, the good times that you’ve had?
Because I’ve noticed that you focus on the negative, spinning narratives into a new light.
A new light that turns things darker rather than highlighting the bright.
The pessimism doesn’t help to brighten up your smile.
The old one that I truly loved, I haven’t seen it in a while.
This new one exposes jagged teeth and a crooked tongue that flickers when you lie.
Stupid things you wouldn’t need to say, it always leaves me wondering why.
Why do you feel the need to lie to someone who loves you so?
I say loves, not loved because my love for you would never go.
Not away at least
It’s tried to stray, for peace
To get away from the beast you’ve become.
But I know who you really are
I know that change comes again, and that you’re transformation isn’t done.
I’m holding out hope that this next change reminds you of who you are,
And that this transformation is beautification and doesn’t leave any scars.
All change ain’t good change, and boy have you changed, but then again so have I.

i used to think washing clothes from the outside in – would be the sure way to win?
if threads can be exposed from the inside – the crush of the waves would forgive the sin.
at this exact moment it’s hard to know when to play with wrong or right.
we can both take the courage to board this complex flight.
but by then – how could your memory ever forget or know when to remember?
there’s been a disgrace at the surface –
all knots have not been tied by the end.
which ways we fold – creates a fairytale or mystery untold.
when the message came through in a dream, i denied ever living a life full of lies.
eventually, the separated waves birth a crush and brush – these jewels professed such lush!
the magic of this shine – inspired me to reflect this fiery light.
this was only right –
to turn outside right from the inside out –
it fully occurred to me, the duty of the wind blew me
into its invisible but real state.

this is a revolutionized change which bakes the cake without a signature model or make.

– as the truth of this emotion comes around with verifying reflection
times window makes known the view from
the outside in, which comes from within.

C00l S39t3mb3r

090319 CS

TAKE A LISTEN IF YOU CARE NOT READ – I ADDED A COUPLE OF EFFECTS FOR YOUR PLEASURE! ❤

C00l S39t3mb3r – the time where Earth, Wind, And Fire asked us to

R E M E M B E R

so much to say – but not to the dismay, of time and formulated ritual. going back into the silence that puts a pause on the constant stroll. how often do we travel on the uptown scroll of our digital devices? endlessly taking in colors and shapes at a level too harsh to sign into our memory banks. sticky notes are all around – reminding us there’s work to do and better yet sleep to look forward to!

tis’ a pity, the master wind has returned – hoodie wear, is requested at the expense of sudden cold swifts to the head. herein this cold chill, reminds us to keep warm when outdoors. fire burns and flames return, when wrapped around with proper braided thread. bless-ed be: to the sudden change of weather. for in it, there’s a new calling. a received dial that beckons us to act accordingly.

every 9 and then – we need to be reminded of where we are, before our minds leave at the notion.

“the changing form of all my certainties – here is not where it use to be.”

– Sananda Maitreya

consciousness is feeding off of every present, past and future correlation.

do not be misled by the equation that suggests, that you didn’t know before.  remembering history is more imperative than we realize. we can believe the witnesses of evidence. an equation where both the canceled and called can congregate in unison.

all of us in this scheme of life, are only partially aware of the colors that are being displayed. not fully belonging to anything. that is to say, we are always whole. belonging to isolated fragmentations, which make up a whole. (sometimes the sum is greater than the parts)

there is a lot on the menu, but we tend to order what works the best. faded photographs. messages with a context as alien as the dream forgotten. i suppose we can mute the feelings of inactivity, but space still lingers where silence tingles. (something’s can’t be blocked, only kept stable like the command: HOLD YOUR HORSES!

9 is the time..cuz

The alien and the commoner – can merge together and form a reality that is not yet distant or close. without a key – how can you enter in? to hack is to spy – what is yours or what is mine? it would be liken; to a delivery of syncopated beats and syrupy slippery clicks which get stuck in your head. mainly cuz the chorus is sticky but still icky.

when the light and darkness meet, who do you believe will win out? darkness hides in the shadows, they say. the darkness creeps like a lurking peep but without the tom. foolery will begin to match the forgotten rhyme.

C00l S39t3mb3r means, eliminating the shortcut to extra rage and clutter via our digital devices. we still have the tools to form a world, which goes beyond, reactive and projected social interaction. (this exchange often camouflages an avoidance, of what is really there.)

our phones have summoned like an extra joint to our bodies – as to make contact with the various social festivals of our feeds and dm’s. it is possible to detach – at least from the convenience of mobile shortcuts. We can all set the rhyme of law!

& so it is c00l 9 & 3 is here which means this month (& going forward N2020) I’m taking a break from the shortcuts to social media. (Deleted Twitter, Instagram, FB, etc – from my phone (for the time being) – and logged out from other Devices) I’ve also called this ‘pink hibernation’ and it has already improved my outlet of input and output.

The troubles of life take a larger seat in our consciousness because they make the most profit. However we can be c00l – when we remember 9 is the rhyme no longer forgotten –

Earth, Wind and Fire asked – do you …

R E M E M B E R ?

Pandora N2 The Elements

Pandora opened up the window and then discovered a triple rainbow! What could this mean? Pandora pondered – until the rainbow smiled back and said: “It means as much as you like it to mean.” Pandora thought about how rainbows made them feel. How they only came back after or during the pouring rain.

Pandora never seemed to care for the rain. The rain would lead to puddles and pandora hated puddles because they led to dirt. Pandora began to interrogate the rainbow further, but before they could speak – a dark cloud hovered over Pandora’s house. Pandora was then abducted by a sudden unexplainable sadness. Until the rain asked them // “Why are you always sad when I come around? You can still go out and play.”

Pandora pondered at this idea but remained still. “Why would I want to play in the rain? That sounds just as ridiculous as would be climbing a tree in the snowy winter. I know rain comes from on high, but I didn’t realize you were that high! Pandora replied. That’s when the rain said “Well, life can’t go on without me – you need me even when you sometimes don’t want it. How about you head over to the corner store and get an umbrella? To have fun with the rain, you need not, interact with it. You must go outside of yourself and play with the serenity, I afford.”

Pandora laughed and soon found the confidence and headed out (this time with boots!) When Pandora came outside the wind blew them onto the ground. “To whom do I have the pleasure of knocking down?” The wind exclaimed!

Pandora realized that not only had it rained a lot but also the wind came with other elements. Pandora looked up for a moment and then began to smile. As Pandora, got up from the ground, Pandora realized their hand was dirty. Pandora landed by a shallow puddle which mirrored their reflection. Pandora saw what was there all along – a face that could be used to smile or not.

Who chooses to see through the cloudscape? Should we allow ourselves the moment of surrender? Admitting that we know nothing. Should we be guided by the light? Even still – the thunderous need to learn should satisfy our endorphins! We may not know but we are eager to find out! What works for us and what satisfies the route of my destination? The noise never expires only returns in new wavelengths. How well are we equipped to deal with a new consequence that we didn’t see before?

‪Light & Love

‬‪Darkness & Confusion ‬‪

Passion & Commitment

All of them dance in the memory and experience of our lives. For we’re learning always. Never have we ‘found out’ // *finding out*…Progressing. Not holding on so easily because the truth is dressed as the phantom that comes to knock us down occasion.

The elements outside of yourself are constantly at work – but Pandora is only a parallel. This is a story providing a mirror or a window – whichever works!

The Firey Speck

In a moment where the wind blew
For a brief grievance, my coat tail knew
The fiery dust which embraced my eye
Came to proclaim a message of a thunderous lullaby
To be awake is to steady see
The anguish and anger always sent for me
A song for the hornet and wide winged bat
Inside of my shattered heart, my reaction is a frivolous stat

When the speck hit my eye
I should have washed it out with lye
The burn would have paralyzed my will to see
The dream that this would set us free
But now I’m waking up to be hurt
All of my feelings are stuck in the dirt

For some wish to learn at the university – receiving methods and assignments in strenuous diversity
Others are not for the will to learn from the school book
They rather get it word of mouth from the bell and informed hook
I suppose it matters not where education arrives
For as long as the trail of questions convince our begging lives

When the speck hit my eye
I should have washed it out with lye
The burn would have paralyzed my will to see
The dream that this would set us free
But now I’m waking up to be hurt
All of my feelings are stuck in the dirt

{bridge}
A refrain of speckled puzzles convinced me to see
A dark illumination that’s paralyzed me
If not for the will to sing this song
I’d refuse to believe the dance to belong
The color of a miss-step is the shade of a fading white
No one has to wrestle in the error of the unseen night

A frivolous stat! A frivolous stat! A hornet without honey and wide winged bat! A wide-winged bat!
For seeing without eyes are like bees without honey
A purpose to be drawn without the necessity of money
The speck in my eye became an enlarged reflector
This inspired a pathway to become the most desired nectar

When the speck hit my eye
I should have washed it out with lye
The burn would have paralyzed my will to see
The dream that this would set us free
But now I’m waking up to be hurt
All of my feelings are stuck in the dirt

Spiral Confessions

The sky is my mansion where a pallet is transfixed. The more I look up, the more I see endless spirals turning into real life forms. I wonder what ideas can exist, from what’s above me and below me. All is possible with imagination and with the inspiration, you can create the very thing inside your mind. It’s very confrontational to see the very result of what is physical in your mind. It’s not about whether it’s possible – but about the process to enable it to come to life. The process depends on where you are in your life – a lot of things don’t make as much sense as they use to because I’ve evolved. The more I grow, the more I know. Knowledge is mutated and with this means a sharper awareness of my sensitivity to confession.

Confessions of mystery’s tail are hypnotized at length. While my eyes are turning into further oblivion, I’m counting the days ahead of me. What’s found in the eye of the spiral is confessed at the misunderstanding of destination. I’m caught in the influx of where I want to go, and what is meant to be redeemed in my previous promise.

The more I look, the more I change on what I’m really seeing. It’s like looking into the eyes of a spiral – it confuses your eyes and misleads what is seen next. The spirals are like optical illusions, I see more than one thing confessed. My admission is that I understand multiple directions. This only encourages my navigation because I have the freedom to entertain the depth and height.

Come again o’ gust of wind and blow me into distant lands. Return to me – far away places, where I’m found only by the deepest seas and highest mountains. I’m incapable of seeing all avenues left for me because I’ve already been covered in telescopes and magnifiers. I’m followed by infinite spirals and they seek to rearrange me. Fruits from the tree have fallen and in close proximity – one can distinguish the rotten pieces.

What’s dead was once alive only now spoiled by the passing evolution. Changes are recurring and patterns are emptying their significance. Time becomes a deeper illusion and I’m hypnotized by the spiral. I am spiraling out of awakening – the signal is gaining a hypnosis of sensibility. A sour taste lays upon my tongue when I realize the irreversible. Days like this are made up by silent discussions in my heart.

I’ve always been fascinated by spirals and their infinity. When I was young, I’d always draw a spiral with an eye in the middle. This would signify the random state of a hypnotic rhythm. Spirals symbolize what’s constantly confessing tricks of the eye.  Spiral Confessions are the turns in my eyes that build on the invisible until manifested. Random ingredients are captured by mindless mixing to convey taste. Methods come and go but with the eye of the spiral, confessions are random and full with direction.

Pardon me while I take a ride to a land of wind and dust. This ride makes me nauseous because it swirls through infinite directions. I’m here and there and everywhere at the same time. Spiral Confessions are statements of mystery which are filled with twists and 360 directions.

Ancient Urgency

Image

Considering how rare and considerate you are of the expression kept inside you – I am eternally honored!

I feel as if eye am discovering a painting that is encoded on the pyramids of Egypt!

Your curves are like numbers and it’s a special trance to describe!

When I first opened the email, the eye just glazed into the pictures.

I can’t help it! Even if I could, I wouldn’t be able to.

I apologize if my words might appear a bit scandalous but if they help provoke a sense of urgency then….Damn it.

 I use words that can possibly teach you how sincere I am – some words are better understood with a sense of character in them.

So when I tell you that looking at your body makes me bite my lip, it’s true.

My imagination rips your clothes off slowly while my hands sculpture your essence.

If eye could teach you like an ancient understanding of how deeply bad I want you- Solomon and Shakespeare would be remiss.

We listen to songs that attempt to capture feelings and arouse the power at night.

We become strategic and lay out our melody and notes!

But IF I was there, I would just enter into you like the wind enters the desert.

We could make our own noise later!

Everything that makes sense in our mind will become logic when I touch you.

Words would fail us desperately, but that’s OK because I would be one with you.

Our spirits in flight, traveling to all of those illustrative pictures and poems of true sexuality.

INSPIRED By The E Of Thee.