Piece Of Work
The body is a piece of work, the body is art
It takes shape, genetically crafted, god given
With moving and working parts, unified as one
Designed for a certain purpose and function
The eyes are used to visualize what you see
Whatever you can envision you can create
Possibilities are endless, create your own image
Build upon the canvas cause your work is never finished
The hands are sensitive to the touch
The hands grasp the concept, and feel in depth
Fingertips to your fingerprints, original in the sense
The architect of your endeavors, whatever you intend
Flowing in vibrant reds, through it paper it bled
Like the ink to the pen, paint to the brush, pencil to the lead
The heart has the direction to take upon the path
Where will it lead you? You never have to ask
The exterior is the frame, one never the same
Inside holds the picture, vivid and never plain
It continues to evolve it continues to grow
It continues to revolve, it continues to show
Colors
There are no limits to what they eyes can see
Infinite tints, values, colors, and hues
Greens, yellows, oranges, reds, purples to the blues
See it from your perspective, how they appear to you
Different shades, lightness and brightness
Different depths, and different perceptions
Vivid descriptions, and many depictions
As far as the eye can see, made up of complexities
Capacity endless, there are no boundaries
Surroundings astounding, exploring environment
See what they world has to offer, countless images
A wide array of lenses, never limited
Make it your own, take it how you want it
Imagine through the iris, assess it, own it
Observe it, conserve it, use it, reword it
Analyze and determine, create your version
Music
Music is an instrument in itself. The sound is powerful.
It is able to reach a wide range of audiences.
It is an expressed emotion. It makes a connection.
It relates. It speaks a universal language.
One we all understand. The beat is like
the pulse of the heart. It pumps our feelings.
It is alive. It speaks directly to you.
It has meaning. It has a message.
The voice is natural. Its pure. God given.
Diversity. It has a melody and a tone.
The only one of its kind. It cannot be duplicated.
A tune of its own. Its yours and yours only.
Music is always changing. It evolves with time.
It is always on the move. Always progressing.
It has the ability to change a generation.
You must learn and play around with your instrument.
Trust Issues
Trust? I don't know what that is. I once had an idea
but it is now lost. Lost in the past.
I'm like the locked door, no one has stepped inside.
A dead bolt, closed to all keys.
Never been open to anyone but myself.
I'm like a bottle, bottled up inside. Drowning.
A bottle of the oldest wine, soaked in substance.
Waiting and waiting for so long. Sealed tight.
Being open feels vulnerable. Maybe I've been hurt too
many times before. My wounds dig deeper and deeper.
Will I recover? Or are my scars too visible?
Is it even worth it to try? How should I feel?
Do I believe in myself? If I don't then who will?
Maybe people want my friendship and love?
But trust is a double edged sword that cuts both ways.
But the gamble may be worth the risk.
Stuck
Time continues, the hands on the clock keep moving.
They grasp the future while I'm stuck in the past.
The same time frame and the same place.
I'm not making progress, I can't seem to put a finger on it.
But why? What for? Addiction? Pride?
I can't grasp the concept. It only comes around once
but I still don't understand. I still waste.
The hours and days come and go.
Its gone, I can't get it back. The numbers came and went.
I regret it everyday. I regret what I can't get back.
The thought messes with me, always on my conscious.
I have to change, I need to change for the better.
I have to make the most of my time. I need to
take advantage of it. If not I'll lose it for good.
Waste makes want. I can't dwell on it.
I just need to learn from the experience and move on.
The Unknown
I don't know what love is. Never felt it before.
Its like I'm afraid to try. I've been alone for so long.
I don't know how to try. I'm afraid of change.
I've been afraid of change my whole life.
Could I even handle it? It seems like too much.
Too much responsibility. Too much to handle.
I wouldn't even know where to begin.
I don't even know if I have the strength.
Can I change my ways or is it too late to change my fate?
I'm afraid of commitment. I'm not afraid to admit that.
I'm stubborn and full of pride. Scared to show my feelings.
I'm selfish and I hate it, it haunts me each and every day.
There's a void in my heart, a hole exposed.
The hole is deep and I can't get out of it.
I've been stuck here for so long. I don't know
any different. I fall deep into my downfall.
Is it a lost cause? Should I even try?
Will I ever grow up? Will I ever mature?
I want to feel but I'm ashamed.
I need guidance, I'm lost without any sense of direction.
The End
Death has always been a question of life.
Where do we go? How will we go?
Heaven or hell? Is heaven real? Is hell real?
How do we get there? Who decides where we go?
Is there an afterlife? Do spirits exist?
Why are they still here? Are they not finished?
Do they not rest in peace? Can they harm us?
Are they here to help? Or is a spirit just a state of mind?
Do they leave their bodies behind?
All physical characteristics? Their flesh and blood.
Skin and bones. All to be recycled,
All to be given back to earth in a natural cycle.
Or is there life after death? Reincarnation?
Is karma real? Who decides what form
you come back as? Human or animal?
Who ultimately decides your fate and why?
Or is there nothing after death? Do you cease to exist?
Does everything go blank and consist of emptiness?
You die, then someone is born and get their chance at life.
Do you only get one shot?
One thing is sure, all of us have to die. We all have to go through it and there is no way around it.
You cannot be afraid of it, all you can do is accept it
and keep living everyday like its your last.
Wednesday, April 30, 2014
The Creation
A life is born. In the blink of an eye you go from
being inside a body into the world. What a transition.
being inside a body into the world. What a transition.
You come out screaming and crying, catching
Your first breath, yearning to survive.
Another environment, you are scared and aggravated.
You went from being comfortable to being annoyed.
Your mother's womb surrounds and caresses you.
Then suddenly you are pushed out into the unknown.
You cant comprehend it. You can't think for yourself.
You have no memory and no thoughts.
Everything is blank. You can't even open your eyes.
Closed to it all. You're too busy trying to live.
Eventually your mother holds you and you settle down.
Then you feel loved. You start to feel at home.
Then your eyes begin to open for the first time.
What a sight! Your first look at life. Incredible!
This is just the beginning, you have a whole life ahead of you
God's Son
Each and every day the sun is present
It is the center of our universe, everything powers off of it
Everything revolves around it
without it we wouldn't be able to survive
It is at the center, the center of our universe
A distant lover, far away, but strong enough to be felt
Far enough to where we won't get burned
Brighter than anything you could imagine
It gives us light and it gives us life
It gives our planet the opportunity to breathe
It gives us oxygen, It gives us food
Without the sun the universe would be desolate
That's not to say its perfect
It has flaws just like we as humans do
Sun spots show off it's blemishes
Scarred through the long journey of life
Nevertheless, it shows it's face every morning
It's natural beauty can blind you if you stare
You must appreciate it from afar, its rays will still reach you
It's personality radiates throughout the sky
Everyday it wakes up and goes to bed like us
A continuous cycle, and what goes up must come down
But as with everything, it has a beginning and end
That's just the way it is, the way life was meant to be
Tuesday, April 29, 2014
The Man in the Moon
Nighttime hits, yet the sky still shines
An all too familiar face lights up the night
He comes in full, halves, and quarters
He makes the night light, and creates night life
A whole other environment, one that thrives
Living, but also mysterious, nocturnal way of life
He orbits earth and creates contrast between day and night
His gravitational pull is felt
He keeps us grounded, he keeps bodies of water at bay
He keeps the tide down and brings the tide up
He can also affect the weather, if not for him
It could mean devastation on earth
He is full of life from afar, on the surface, a different story
Craters on his face from impact, permanently damaged
His exterior is barren, no room to breathe
Nothing can survive among his presence
His demeanor is all too silent, He doesn't speak
No one can hear him, his emotions empty
Deaf to everything, he comes off as eerie
But I guess there are two sides to everyone
The Mind
The mind is so complex, it is an operating system
A network of ideas and feelings like the world wide web
Or like the web of a spider that catches food for fuel
There is so much information to take into consideration
Like a grid or a graph of thoughts and you plot your points
A circuit board of electricity connected together
Used to power its purpose
A flow of both positive and negative charges
A field of positive and negative emotions
Sometimes confusing, you can easily be distracted
Difficult to understand, it is an equation
One that I'm interested in figuring out
Amused by its capability, it keeps me busy
So involved, I want to learn every aspect about it
Tackle every obstacle that comes into view
It is a chase to find a way through the maze of the mind
A puzzle without all of the pieces given to you
An experiment with many different variables
There are no instructions on how to use your device
You must learn it all on your own
Skin
Skin is a timeline, skin tells a story
Skin reads in fine lines, skin sometimes is derogatory
Skin has a texture, Skin has a toughness
Skin has a measure, Skin has a roughness
Skin has feeling, Skin has emotion
Skin is left peeling, Skin is so potent
To the touch, from the hot to the cold
To the pressure and the vibrations of its mold
Built to take damage, built for wear and tear
Scars show the pain that is left to remain
Permanently stained, one never the same
Distinct to its guilt, passion, or shame
Skin is protection through each one of its layers
Deep, a natural shield, one that we all wield
Although not indestructible, it will always heal
Skin takes a journey, one we all must feel
