Confusion assay
Confusion of the wise old man, hobbling on a humid day
is reflected in puddles of blood.
thoughts slip into her eyes while
strange memories haunt him,
wounds of a past life.
Wisdom of thinking, learning from a memory
teaching life.
children around him anxious, waiting for the sacred words
a fabulous story.
The story of love lost,
who has raised his soul to heavenly
he dropped into a personal hell.
infernal spirit and body, hating life
you taught me to love it.
Fortuna dreams,
reckless mad juggler
feelings lay.
Hidden in a corner of the heart,
games with the love of
without understanding a word that you were a dream.
The awakening is imminent, another five minutes
of oblivion and back light.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Friday, March 14, 2008
Plasma Donation Austin
The appearance of things
Ecstasy mental
a gloomy day when the thoughts are the framework
existence of the poor man.
Her eyes fixed on me
watching what I had to offer
and not thinking about what I was.
Tired of the new world,
simplify the ecstasy of two bodies
dwelling appearance of things.
Confessions of a dangerous heart condition,
strip away our sins
exposing what's real hide.
Page this new world of heavenly, angelic body of this land
wounded and battered soul.
be lost in oblivion
We are looking for a wild love
trying to fill her.
Ecstasy mental
a gloomy day when the thoughts are the framework
existence of the poor man.
Her eyes fixed on me
watching what I had to offer
and not thinking about what I was.
Tired of the new world,
simplify the ecstasy of two bodies
dwelling appearance of things.
Confessions of a dangerous heart condition,
strip away our sins
exposing what's real hide.
Page this new world of heavenly, angelic body of this land
wounded and battered soul.
be lost in oblivion
We are looking for a wild love
trying to fill her.
Monday, March 10, 2008
The Meaning Of Every Color
died in the night
anesthetic mental
touch of madness,
remain immobile in the infinite.
Travel intoxicating
spirit of a saturated
eyes like planets around it.
be floating in the endless universe, man becomes man scrubbed
,
remembering the ecstasy of a kiss.
died the night of a life tragicomic
while the dark sweet and dense to the touch,
around him and covered with pitch.
You were there to touch the infinite, while her smooth thighs
you opened the doors of paradise.
The last breath, the last
vision
awoke the next morning.
anesthetic mental
touch of madness,
remain immobile in the infinite.
Travel intoxicating
spirit of a saturated
eyes like planets around it.
be floating in the endless universe, man becomes man scrubbed
,
remembering the ecstasy of a kiss.
died the night of a life tragicomic
while the dark sweet and dense to the touch,
around him and covered with pitch.
You were there to touch the infinite, while her smooth thighs
you opened the doors of paradise.
The last breath, the last
vision
awoke the next morning.
Friday, March 7, 2008
Return Gift No Receipt Radio Shack
Enchanting scenery,
oblivion knowledge
around his body
us back to the sweetness of the vision.
be lost in the infinity of his eyes, dream
imperfect world,
heavenly paradise,
expression for the self-esteem.
Tired of a life,
tired of useless words, we live to live
sweating our love.
A simple word, with multiple forms
sometimes magnificent
sometimes hell.
Eyes sewn, lips,
my hands touch the immense
savoring the smells,
asymmetric image of an angel.
Prisoner of love,
I decorated the four walls,
with sweet words and phrases,
resignation of the spirit.
Monday, March 3, 2008
Stage 4b Pancreatic Cancer With Liver Metastasis
Prison Prisoner of love on the night of the soul
We live in a cell,
a cage of concrete,
as being trapped.
Rinvanghiamo dormant memories,
items stolen
dreams ever made.
While the screams of our ways,
sinister echo in the dark corners of our cell.
Prisoners of our being,
jailers our pleasure
lagging demand.
Locked in a hovel,
between smiles, screams and the swarm of falsehood
us their ears not to hear.
Hour after hour, the tortured soul,
with words and thoughts, trying to stifle
what is real in us.
We live in a cell,
a cage of concrete,
as being trapped.
Rinvanghiamo dormant memories,
items stolen
dreams ever made.
While the screams of our ways,
sinister echo in the dark corners of our cell.
Prisoners of our being,
jailers our pleasure
lagging demand.
Locked in a hovel,
between smiles, screams and the swarm of falsehood
us their ears not to hear.
Hour after hour, the tortured soul,
with words and thoughts, trying to stifle
what is real in us.
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