cook

>> Friday, February 26, 2010


i write what i am unable to speak
for the words that flow from these lips
cannot comprehend the essence of the words in my mind
the words that emanate from the tip of my pen...

…come again…

i write what i am unable to speak
for the words that flow from these lips
are broken and slow
moving behind the wings of time
unable to catch up with the rambling verses in my mind
so spoken words are left behind, stroking teeth, and tasting
swallowed lines.

the words that emanate from the tip of my pen
are golden.
like the sun on a warm, silver breeze day
rays infiltrating the depth of who you are
filling your expectations from a far
yet present right where you are,
......yeah…..right there
like the sun are the words in my pen
rising to meet your breath in the silver breeze
inhaling as you breathe in, soaking in the syllables,
verbs, intonations that exist in my words
and like the sun that just is
so are the words in my pen….just is

just being without a sense of beginnings, middles or endings
just living, breathing without thoughts of insecurities,
the need for applause doesn’t fit between this thumb and index
no teeth hitting the mic in a fit of wobbling knees,
just my poetic colored imaginations
meandering through, inside, outside of black lines
bound by sweet smelling leather, stitched with the thread of
inherited peace.

on blank pages, created to be filled by the greatness that are
my words, i write what i am unable to speak
unable to explain, for spoken words fail at times
when describing tears, wails, agonies, orgasms, happiness,
and the simple need to be loved,
i write what i am unable to speak
fist raising declarations, ah ha moments felt
around the world, doors closing behind worthless hims and hers…
and stories told in perfect harmony to the beating muse in your heart.
i write when i am unable to speak
book attached to my hand
pen morphing from sacrified fingertips,
when silence is golden, my incessent scribbling molests the silence
deeming it broken and abused.

for the words that flow from these lips
connect with the universe that is the tip of my pen
blue ink on black lines, the beauty that is written reality.

 in a fit of nouns and loquacious strokes
i write what i am unable to speak
don’t ask me to speak
don’t ask my mind to comprehend the existence of forever
for just as the sun is,
so are the words in my pen….just is.

la.moi feb 26, 2010

thanx to cook.the.poet for naming this piece for me!

5 comments:

Da_Kween Saturday, February 27, 2010  

You're just ridiculous with this...I always love your writings...this is how I feel, too.

Cook.ThePoet. Sunday, February 28, 2010  

Man ya flow is I N S A N E!! Love it. "just being without a sense of beginnings, middles or endings
just living, breathing without thoughts of insecurities,
the need for applause doesn’t fit between this thumb and index" Bad ass line forreal. *sigh of relief& puppy head cocked to the left* amazement

-Cook.ThePoet.

FabLondyn Monday, March 01, 2010  

Hey Hun, I'm your new follower and I love your blog so far..I'm new to the blogging world so please check out my blog and follow me back please..!! xoxo ~Londyn

www.fashionstalker.net

ms.rubies Thursday, March 04, 2010  

thank you kween and cook!

welcome londyn, i will check you out for sure

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