tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19069802784256665492024-03-14T00:07:12.846-07:00The Seventh AlgorithmThis is a journey into the real the unreal and all the areas that make up both the truth and the feelings that exist in the artist the people and the moments join me on my journey my exploration in this body we call human
The concept of the Seventh Algorithm states "the seventh letter is G so the answer to solving your problem is God there in the revelation of the seven step principal follow me on this journey.rain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.comBlogger24125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-92038375247643293802010-10-17T11:04:00.000-07:002010-10-17T11:08:52.253-07:00get the new Album from Rain Maker "METAPHOR"<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvdBxwfu1Di7pQet_Lf51j13q_2WCt3gh9x3VEIZhCirf9RjufHkgIJllum2YHr47UsSxruSrz4E8vxulOqZFwB88w1BQngwWmOPQEjlD-cEDZv4VIMDp2R_zDB7s5ZF2LUehPOArhk0g/s1600/P4268734-1-1-1.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 314px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvdBxwfu1Di7pQet_Lf51j13q_2WCt3gh9x3VEIZhCirf9RjufHkgIJllum2YHr47UsSxruSrz4E8vxulOqZFwB88w1BQngwWmOPQEjlD-cEDZv4VIMDp2R_zDB7s5ZF2LUehPOArhk0g/s320/P4268734-1-1-1.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5529078545090273826" /></a><br /><form action="https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr" method="post"><br /><input type="hidden" name="cmd" value="_s-xclick"><br /><input type="hidden" name="hosted_button_id" value="L2XGH2YK94TTU"><br /><input type="image" src="https://www.paypal.com/en_US/i/btn/btn_buynowCC_LG.gif" border="0" name="submit" alt="PayPal - The safer, easier way to pay online!"><br /><img alt="" border="0" src="https://www.paypal.com/en_US/i/scr/pixel.gif" width="1" height="1"><br /></form>rain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-9645551236252983612010-09-06T12:20:00.000-07:002010-09-06T12:24:03.716-07:00IT IS GREAT PLEASURE THAT I PRESENT TO YOU THE NEW ALBUM "AWAKENING"<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxx_5OZDBlmuBNyreZxSByct1H_oI00cQY5dUGy-K9HLu0itZdQkiYC4xsT_GBaxwuGqfGNbzO1Fu5i5V77ThTfS9B63dKYSlUJJ8oLXdp9MyfaQe-qWY6rfxVD2BBpnX583CbC0esnLA/s1600/Awakening+cover+art.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 234px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgxx_5OZDBlmuBNyreZxSByct1H_oI00cQY5dUGy-K9HLu0itZdQkiYC4xsT_GBaxwuGqfGNbzO1Fu5i5V77ThTfS9B63dKYSlUJJ8oLXdp9MyfaQe-qWY6rfxVD2BBpnX583CbC0esnLA/s320/Awakening+cover+art.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5513882821462855154" /></a><br /><br />THIS ALBUM IS ONE OF THE TWO I RELEASED ON MY BIRTHDAY SEPTEMBER 4TH OF THIS MONTH<br />IT WILL BE AVAILABLE FOR SALE ON MY BLOG NEXT WEEK <br />PLACE YOUR EARLY ORDERS IN MY FACE BOOK INBOX PETER RAINMAKER SEATONrain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-65893116826447929192010-06-15T23:29:00.000-07:002010-06-15T23:30:40.921-07:00CHECK IT OUT AND TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK<a href="http://peoplestring.com/?u=peterseaton"><img src="http://peoplestring.com/images/ads/make_money_468x60.jpg" border="0" /></a>rain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-69306651855520020042010-04-26T18:09:00.001-07:002010-04-27T03:17:06.716-07:00Presenting Queen Godis and the "...In the Mirror" Project<span style="font-weight:bold;"><br />There are very few people in the world that I trust with my life even fewer still the people i trust to speak in a capacity of healing and self work that if your breathing you need to do .I am pleased to say my sister Queen Godis occupies those two rare categories in my life.<br />she recently did an interview about her up coming video and how Michael Jackson has impacted her art<br /><br />I want you to go make some chamomile tea if you have get comfortable watch the interview then go to www.auntiqueengodis.blogspot.com listen to the remix of man in the mirror .. then get up and go look in your own mirror and begin the 21 day process of change that you need to make </span><br /><br /><br /><object width="480" height="385"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/aiZh_DRHlIg&hl=en_US&fs=1&"></param><param name="allowFullScreen" value="true"></param><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/aiZh_DRHlIg&hl=en_US&fs=1&" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="480" height="385"></embed></object>rain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-52517874729327468422010-03-20T10:02:00.000-07:002010-03-20T10:03:13.966-07:00jorge luis brito<object width="400" height="224" ><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/1342229949119" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/1342229949119" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="224"></embed></object>rain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-70040124676655446442010-03-04T22:40:00.001-08:002010-03-04T22:40:28.010-08:00formspring.meAsk me anything <a href="http://formspring.me/poetryisme" target="_blank">http://formspring.me/poetryisme</a>rain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-80401806222304116302010-02-26T02:49:00.000-08:002010-02-26T02:59:32.930-08:00Njagala show casing some of my Uganda's brother work and his name is Ekomu Joel Amio<iframe allowfullscreen='allowfullscreen' webkitallowfullscreen='webkitallowfullscreen' mozallowfullscreen='mozallowfullscreen' width='320' height='266' src='https://www.blogger.com/video.g?token=AD6v5dxSVckDIy-yISwef2fRABtuVlSbEUD0BRzqjBqtrSGlcJrExGxbz0PT6-x9TsXb6n_GPUDJ-3-IloLeZnBOIQ' class='b-hbp-video b-uploaded' frameborder='0'></iframe>rain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-66665695864545594892010-02-20T00:52:00.000-08:002010-02-20T02:57:32.010-08:00Journey through Sirreal Photography(copy write)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTXXycATC9nB4ZYNf3IjR1rh8Ww1ku0qzozCE18Q8CKAqk7On3kfZEkgcULIiBhx5ZbUx2asjHL6n2qwRg_etyoIQh_BD7v0Rg3CzMZ_Iz5PCjlam6cIU5QpAPs_2d8VIeS1SNz-G3QU/s1600-h/10131_149966529463_92245099463_2442362_1092640_n.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 213px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmTXXycATC9nB4ZYNf3IjR1rh8Ww1ku0qzozCE18Q8CKAqk7On3kfZEkgcULIiBhx5ZbUx2asjHL6n2qwRg_etyoIQh_BD7v0Rg3CzMZ_Iz5PCjlam6cIU5QpAPs_2d8VIeS1SNz-G3QU/s320/10131_149966529463_92245099463_2442362_1092640_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440265707808435778" /></a><br />My mind is the only thing<br />that cannot be copyrighted<br />my heart a beating star<br />pulsating black ink out<br />my mouth<br />sounds like a halo with<br />legs and feet<br />that hits you in the places<br />you have tucked away from<br />sight<br />and i have been here<br />like a crying volcano<br />a screaming ajax bottle<br />a talking keyboard<br />stuck in the ears of a deaf<br />man i hear silence in the noise<br />you can call me the architect <br />that builds houses inside you<br />with walls of love and feeling<br />waiting for the moment<br />when i release so much of<br />this crazy gypsy in my chest<br />that i implode into zeros<br />into beyond nothing<br />and everything all at the same<br />time <br />into speakers laced with<br />DNA vibrations of the second kind<br />i am not of this world<br />and of this now<br />and not the past you cannot run<br />from<br />i have been too hard for too long<br />to make sticks and stones<br />impede the flap of my wings<br />and the sun has been chasing me <br />through my dreams so i write<br />a poem for every grain of sand for<br />the blackest nights up under my feet<br />i walk like heaven was in the<br />eyes of the people i meet<br />as if love was in the actions<br />and not the word<br />as if faith was not in the believing<br />but the leap<br />out of fear<br />a living res-erection<br />i write evolution and pray three<br />times a day because this<br />story can end at least different<br />ways<br />and my grandma raised me to stay<br />ready <br />said make sure when they come<br />that you give them the sun and the moon<br />the stars and the planets <br />the black holes and fall of leaves<br />she said nah<br />make sure you give them the warrior<br />in your knuckles <br />the razors of your voice <br />call on your ancestors and make<br />sure they see your face everytime<br />they close there eyes<br />i said grandma this world is hard sometimes<br />and this flesh aint going to stop<br />there bullets i am scared of the words<br />i speak sometimes grandma because<br />i know from experience how the truth<br />hurts and i can't explain why i dont<br />walk away from this grandma i have<br />and would still<br />give up a love of a woman before i <br />give up this what is wrong with me<br />i understand that we all want to<br />be free want to be held in the places<br />where it hurts want to get this anger<br />from birth up of our chests <br />want to go home to someone who understands<br />the rest want to feel like these<br />words make sense want to give<br />everything without the boundaries<br />we put on ourself's would like to cry<br />without feeling week would like to<br />stop trying to get there and just<br />get there<br />she said you are human so you go<br />through what humans go through<br />and it made sense<br />said i know its crazy and you out<br />there in the world with nothing<br />but the chips on your shoulders<br />the feeling of bricks to your back<br />and a shotgun in your face like<br />the cracks in the sidewalks shout<br />expletives at you all day<br />but you make sure you <br />let them understand this here<br />that you may not always be right<br />but your never wrong<br />so i stay on my job<br />and write for the life of my life<br />because there is a process<br />to this purpose<br />and my mind sings like lullaby's through<br />time so i understand the<br />equation of sound<br />decibel times metaphor<br />divided by voice<br />and the shape of your body<br />gives of an algorithm a frequency<br />that only you posses<br />so this stage is but my tool<br />for the gift i was given<br />at birth they told me i would speak<br />to heaven<br />and i see you as such<br />so forgive me if<br />no ego enters this poem<br />or if is not slam worthy<br />but i have slammed right here<br />before you ever see me<br />gone through hot coals<br />and bear feet<br />through windows and scars<br />through a wife and a divorce<br />through friends who aint really your<br />friends bullet wound and nightmares<br />till this day so i have mastered<br />insomnia and turned it into inspiration<br />to keep writing alchemist to the core<br />trust i when i tell you <br />I have no enemy<br />but dont let the raccoons rummage<br />through your garbage<br />i still have fear<br />but i face mine everyday right<br />here i have been writing for as long<br />as i have been thinking<br />i dare you to copy<br />write that.rain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-79598583153073747152010-02-19T23:05:00.000-08:002010-02-20T00:12:35.457-08:00Journey through Sirreal Photography (metaphor)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil_MSjlUIR-c6ExADF0gOMZrgyBrizXZWtcGxDbW9FCxI8nuUlnrIanDHNrbHuNg90egs04-AZXt0lATMQQ_XNmmvY5sXndFyCH2VR6ZLj2hKlbi2eCjx6uY1mIjiG9ed9EIE46FAXGko/s1600-h/Michelle+Seabreeze+269.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEil_MSjlUIR-c6ExADF0gOMZrgyBrizXZWtcGxDbW9FCxI8nuUlnrIanDHNrbHuNg90egs04-AZXt0lATMQQ_XNmmvY5sXndFyCH2VR6ZLj2hKlbi2eCjx6uY1mIjiG9ed9EIE46FAXGko/s320/Michelle+Seabreeze+269.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440226300228336754" /></a><br />Her look <br />could have<br />killed the world<br />flipped atlas<br />on his axis<br />orbited a suffocated<br />bench press<br />on a ants back<br />chained to a forgotten<br />tomorrow rapped<br />in a reality <br />two centimeters removed<br />from right now<br />rising like the goose bumps<br />you get when truth<br />reveals itself in words<br />the synonym for metaphor<br />has got to be woman<br />in a blue sky<br />a black fire<br />shows off<br />as if the stars could not<br />flash light out existence<br />eyes spoke of almonds<br />half cracked<br />just so you catch just<br />a glimpse of heaven<br />of yourself<br />growing inside her rib<br />prototype<br />i now know<br />when i stared at her<br />that i am a hybrid<br />all we are as men<br />is confused women until<br />we learn were it is we<br />come from <br />until we meet a <br />harbinger with sunset eyes<br />and a star placed<br />per curiously on her nose<br />until we fall in love<br />with the lover we do not<br />understand<br />only then <br />will her look<br />make sense<br />and her scent<br />bearable in the air<br />the rustle of the leaves<br />she be a unexplainable<br />simple<br />that finds us in our dreams<br />when we are alone<br />with thoughts <br />i feel sometimes she is <br />watching me staring<br />at my chest thinking she<br />wishes she could take<br />her ribs back<br />if she knew then what she<br />knows now<br />how the slave of us <br />would be so prominent<br />in the mistreatment of her kind<br />her body and mind<br />soul and love even still<br />her hips grow wide enough <br />to forgive<br />and eyes tell me something<br />sacred in a flash<br />a chance meeting<br />meeting chance past<br />believing i found<br />the perfume of her<br />one night in a bed<br />of roses <br />just because<br />she said she wanted lay on<br />pedals before her ghost flee's<br />in a room of candles<br />for random's sake<br />just to see how her skin maroon's<br />with the light<br />oil and giggles necessary <br />in fingertips <br />i met myself and her<br />laced with the meaning of breath<br />one night under a blue moon<br />over looking a red sky<br />with purple hearts dancing in the<br />flicker of the shadows fire on<br />the floor<br />i stand here today <br />just to tell you that<br />the synonym for metaphor<br />is woman<br />don't be fooled by the<br />spelling or the<br />spells casting<br />metaphor is woman<br />and woman is a unexplainable<br />simple but they have<br />always told you<br />god is in the simple thingsrain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-14571210025632698472010-02-19T22:44:00.000-08:002010-02-19T22:51:57.219-08:00Journey through sirreal photography (Absolution)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Hrm4SpkEDltk5ihLC0CKhyphenhyphenXHt8RF7TjMdkSIbZeWSYbPNzo4RstdS4JcoYQX5ECL0X0Kj-e8xkjHblR_V8_zZED-Zid0MYqpajGXZqXLBqOfT0A7MjrK7nThGVlNh1oHF8-ky74C3SU/s1600-h/Melisa-58.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-Hrm4SpkEDltk5ihLC0CKhyphenhyphenXHt8RF7TjMdkSIbZeWSYbPNzo4RstdS4JcoYQX5ECL0X0Kj-e8xkjHblR_V8_zZED-Zid0MYqpajGXZqXLBqOfT0A7MjrK7nThGVlNh1oHF8-ky74C3SU/s320/Melisa-58.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5440214751340953874" /></a><br />I sit heavy because there is<br /><br />an anvil chained to a twilight sky<br /><br />in my stomach<br /><br />a screaming dog barking the secret of<br /><br />life and a gypsy using the earth like a<br /><br />marble in my voice<br /><br />trying to understand the shaman<br /><br />sun bathing on my tongue<br /><br />a gun shooting a bullet in the shape of<br /><br />a woman giving birth to an army<br /><br />of unicorns in my fingers<br /><br />a mermaid arguing in my pen<br /><br />but I remember when she used to<br /><br />hold me in the thick of us our inhale<br /><br />might as well have been laced with dragons breath<br /><br />until she<br /><br />told me she needed to get away from my gravity<br /><br />after I orbited around another sun<br /><br />said sometimes I feel like a black dot<br /><br />on a white canvas<br /><br />empty and full<br /><br />all at the same time<br /><br />and I asked the morning after<br /><br />do you still love me<br /><br />told me maybe in another life said<br /><br />the pain was so deep she would<br /><br />have to unzip her bones<br /><br />in order to love me again<br /><br />and I am here a carefully carried<br /><br />heartbreak<br /><br />wishing for a severed moment<br /><br />when my insides touched hers<br /><br />and you felt it in the middle of the night<br /><br />I will speak of how I lost you<br /><br />To the weight of my man and my flesh<br /><br />My desires urgent back then<br /><br />But now I find myself thinking of you<br /><br />Unwilling to love another<br /><br />The way I loved you<br /><br />The way you were always meant to be<br /><br />I cannot move on and these dreams<br /><br />In seventh hour of the day keep showing<br /><br />An image of me setting my heart on fire<br /><br />And breaking my ribs to spell your name<br /><br />Your name<br /><br />The only one I could never forget<br /><br />On table there is a ring<br /><br />And my liferain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-91856698318070332652010-02-13T21:28:00.000-08:002010-02-13T22:05:18.807-08:00Journey through Sirreal Photography (no more martyrs)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkRZdaiqORwAAgzbSU6xp0djqTPH5DJTFtRkfDadBRhjSsyKgSjUZboQ60dXOAJV-k4zzia4L2ck04hg1sboJ68cD4iDn2jnq9gEdNXfA4ztsXdeY2Jsov21gD9C5UcKIk8aSh25l3Wc/s1600-h/David+Bryant-9.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkRZdaiqORwAAgzbSU6xp0djqTPH5DJTFtRkfDadBRhjSsyKgSjUZboQ60dXOAJV-k4zzia4L2ck04hg1sboJ68cD4iDn2jnq9gEdNXfA4ztsXdeY2Jsov21gD9C5UcKIk8aSh25l3Wc/s320/David+Bryant-9.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437971026282240706" /></a><br />I stand as if the world needs to go around me<br />voodoo personified indigo sauce<br />and tornado laughing in the bricks to my back<br />i stand for the peace<br />of war<br />of abused woman<br />she told me not to come here said they may<br />shoot a black man<br />trigger happy mo fo's they be<br />she said<br />but i never figured any of that feared<br />any of that<br />i knew my purpose<br />they called me giant in my youth<br />so i stand like i was face to face with the clouds<br />never paid attention to the chicken scratch<br />of the haters and the people that have<br />nothing better to do than gossip<br />about how he aint shit<br />and we aint shit as a people<br />as a people i represent the best of we<br />warrior blooded for battle<br />lover passion raised to my woman <br />my queen knows who i be<br />my kids know who i be<br />its a shame i couldn't make her understand<br />why i had to come to this place<br />make her understand why i had to stand<br />waiting for them to come <br />i knew they were too scared to kill me<br />the truth will scream people into submission<br />and my daddy told me always speak<br />the truth even if you are staring death<br />swinging your halo it stole at your birth<br />you tell the truth<br />and let them sort the pieces after<br />so i am here <br />because of my father <br />because of my mother<br />because of my kids<br />no <br />i am here because there wont be anymore<br />martyrs<br />they have learned that the truth does not<br />die with the flesh<br />so what is the use of putting a bullet through<br />my brain<br />of them even thinking about my breath<br />there will be no more martyrs <br />kissed my children told them <br />i loved them just in case<br />humans or fickle creatures even <br />with my faith<br />that i would be home for dinner<br />and kissing my wife<br />humans tend to surprise<br />you<br />honestly i was waiting for it<br />waiting for the bang <br />but none came<br />silence<br />i stood there in all my glory <br />you should have seen it <br />no bang i tell you<br />I almost laughed<br />still tapping the prayer beads<br />in my pocket<br />damn<br />I thought i was going to die today<br />even still i was home before dark<br />walked like a hero<br />picked my wife up in the air<br />and told<br />her <br />there will be no more martyrsrain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-89565024686604287582010-02-13T19:42:00.000-08:002010-02-14T14:35:40.886-08:00Leon Photo Werks feature on Journey through Sirreal Photography (Old Magick)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_S50r8PAExdhqf3QfpuUCzQP5KRUspfd4eDjnZ2GVPhH7cDl0O_rROWB-3clH4N3EfYIyRnVvSBHc7k17YADnOkQrf8FNRq7CfJm5B95zvxUCkkUcz6AEJUuzNCVeLPJ3XzBmC34-8dg/s1600-h/49c65001a765e.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_S50r8PAExdhqf3QfpuUCzQP5KRUspfd4eDjnZ2GVPhH7cDl0O_rROWB-3clH4N3EfYIyRnVvSBHc7k17YADnOkQrf8FNRq7CfJm5B95zvxUCkkUcz6AEJUuzNCVeLPJ3XzBmC34-8dg/s320/49c65001a765e.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437958544594150770" /></a><br />hello I am the woman<br />of your dreams of your miracles<br />sitting on the seventh cloud<br />of your mind<br />touching lighting bolts<br />so my hair is nappy and beautiful<br />striking my name across<br />this skin<br />look how i shine<br />how i make the sun shy<br />vertical my structure i see nothing<br />but the blue berries of this world<br />you have tried to put <br />a snake in my walk<br />tried to kill me and my bloodline<br />but you didn't know my name<br />didn't know how i overcome<br />struggle eat defeat<br />and belch impossibility in my sleep<br />your still trying to figure out<br />how to tame me<br />i am a zebra<br />and you don't deserve to see my strips<br />i am woman<br />beautiful as an imploding zero<br />forward thinking in the moment<br />of a tease of a sparkling sunset<br />yawning across the mid day sky<br />with a gun behind my eyes<br />and arms that hold you as if a million<br />butterflies decided to love you<br />with there wings<br />the caterpillar of my speech<br />reaches you in the places <br />that you have tucked in the folds<br />of you <br />and i want to fold you<br />like a orgasm suffocated at the<br />point of climax<br />just to dance in your release<br />i am woman<br />here me in midnight prayer<br />in the footsteps behind you<br />i am every woman you have ever loved<br />will love and hold like they<br />were the only<br />i am the world<br />and the peace<br />my skin is karma<br />what goes around comes <br />back to me <br />and i am staring<br />at your startling sting<br />starting this fire<br />i sing<br />to oshun<br />i am the woman of your dreams<br />of your miracles<br />your never ever ever's<br />and your resolutions<br />and Epiphanies<br />tucked in the center of my human<br />call me<br />love the oldest magickrain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-38124803522598668112010-02-11T17:41:00.000-08:002010-02-11T18:13:35.346-08:00Journey though Sirreal Photography (Gypsy woman on Chill)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipgLkq05YBYeEHUW5GFHNIKtKpfqQyGRI357mV8zXiZyNsIVzje46uV46VR3h14745JqMCYeo3VOaWZYd3aCFZgnlp11r7OE0OJTjE4oxsJD3O2ZwuQ8fq4mxlHI9UQ5tmy1Nx_i_jYOI/s1600-h/IMG_6451.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipgLkq05YBYeEHUW5GFHNIKtKpfqQyGRI357mV8zXiZyNsIVzje46uV46VR3h14745JqMCYeo3VOaWZYd3aCFZgnlp11r7OE0OJTjE4oxsJD3O2ZwuQ8fq4mxlHI9UQ5tmy1Nx_i_jYOI/s320/IMG_6451.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437173690056286962" /></a><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">She is found in everything</span><br />in Lilacs blooming at night<br />in the curve of ribs still fresh from life<br />sequenced to stars on a paribas twists from life<br />interlocking locks that lock time<br />she is found in everything<br />wind gardens on Uranus the foam<br />in your coffee just waiting to be sipped<br />sip, slowly, seeping synergetic molecules<br />molecular mesmerizing massages metaphysic<br />menstruation<br />in a teaspoon of Buckley's <br />she is swallowed with burns<br />burning barricading bonfires<br />My truth is found with in her borders<br />she gave me orders in twilight dreams<br />smeared my music across an operating table<br />they were searching for my poetry gene<br />hidden in gnomes I have not yet found<br />She gave me an adamantuam tongue so<br />i could lick her diamond<br />She is gypsy woman on chill<br />Chilled centuries in the past tense for<br />future discovery<br />I can only see her in wind storms<br />touching groves i did not know existed <br />on my own body <br />so yes<br />yes i do believe in mystics<br />My sticks all lead to her<br />she is found in everything<br />white lint on blue cotton sweaters<br />if only i could let my colors run<br />we would create rainbows in flesh<br />fleshy bodies make like fish upstream<br />in bed sheets flesh is only the container<br />but no flesh can hold her<br />not in new days<br />with new ways<br />with two pairs of thighs<br />i see four eyes when i sleep walk in dreams<br />reamed around this consciousness i rose to her occasion<br />occasionally showing her crystals<br />and watched her cry like satellites in snow caves<br />her cave is wondrous<br />wondering won on the life essence<br />of past lives lived loving<br />levitate my being into your structure<br />She is collidiscope with orgasm colors<br />cumming came back to Ghana when she touched me<br />Said her name was Nairobi and i have been<br />waiting smoking gypsy symbols in blown glass<br />goggled her gire on gamma gestures<br />gateways of granite grandeur<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">she is found in everything</span>g<br />in the back ground smell of pine pineapple<br />pina coladas punany purrs <br />paper penetration piercing possible precaution<br />passed in points pointing<br />paint me in your thoughts done in thoughts<br />before thoughts <br />taste me on the inside give me your nirvigin<br />i am king only for her<br />her hollow howls heaven<br />heal hemoglobin<br />bin talking to electricity <br />city center sent commerce commingle<br />cum<br />come here<br />right here<br />did i tell you that i was Jamaican<br />jam Jupiter jemba warrior<br />she is found in everything<br />kissing cells that pass through third eyes<br />and i <br />know exactly how to love her<br />she is the master tapestry we paint<br />in our minds<br />that one thing that we think will change<br />our lives the marks on your body after good sex<br />that still after a day<br />if you twist your waste<br />or forearms spreading thighs<br />you can still feel its pleasurable sting<br /><span style="font-style:italic;">she is found in everything</span><br />everything<br />she is working that mystic magic on the soul<br />she is my music <br />my muse<br />call it whatever<br />straight up plagiarism<br />she hands me my poems with a new promise<br />to love me for each one<br />used unconditionally unequivocally unashamedly<br />my heart strings to catch her<br />now every time i breath she hears my beating<br />all i want to do is to be broken<br />down into nano bytes<br />so i can measure her features down to each<br />and every nanometer of hair on her body<br />i oddly want her to appear before me physically<br />but then<br />then she wouldn't be found in everything<br />and i <br />though Jamaican and Shango and free<br />I so love when i find her in everything<br />She is my music <br />Gypsy woman on chillrain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-34786352618583421932010-02-11T11:16:00.000-08:002010-02-11T11:52:33.553-08:00Journey Through Sirreal Photography (Impossible is nothing)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-v582t7L4yW_7lKcML1HHwHLPj2yM0nxD5GSHaKW4pnBgNK3jWw-MmUuF3RtQ5-1mx69BPsopf1bRqcnHV3ifvRFAnEOG_7K8MIOU-2ifFvr6uod8d9NEDvUcJBwfSAfVq3TL-hSorE/s1600-h/IMG_8630.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ-v582t7L4yW_7lKcML1HHwHLPj2yM0nxD5GSHaKW4pnBgNK3jWw-MmUuF3RtQ5-1mx69BPsopf1bRqcnHV3ifvRFAnEOG_7K8MIOU-2ifFvr6uod8d9NEDvUcJBwfSAfVq3TL-hSorE/s320/IMG_8630.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5437076104719726306" /></a><br />As if you didn't know <br />how i have heaven on my shoulders<br />i brush of stars and watch how<br />they fall to the earth and stick<br />like flies to paper<br />but my name on this piece of paper<br />keeps me flyer than comets tap dancing<br />across the sky<br />cant help but look for the armegedon <br />which aint coming<br />because when i breath i take your<br />edge off<br />where divinity on my lips<br />to be broken down by the masses<br />its only a quick ear<br />that can catch my participals<br />sun burst on the side of my head<br />is a birth mark when i came<br />into to being from the universes bang<br />understand you cannot begin<br />to come close to my power<br />black man is the only thing<br />that resembles my being in this<br />existence my star<br />is to let you know i be beyond<br />mars my voice sounds like<br />a earthquake lighting bolt<br />so i might short circuit your<br />ignorance <br />put your whole make up<br />in neon flux<br />i flow like your blood<br />boiled in the lynchings<br />in this feeling so twilight<br />be the favorite part of my<br />day reminds me of my mother's<br />womb <br />and as if you didn't know<br />the seventh letter is G<br />so i be god having fun<br />in my human form<br />later today i will probably<br />play chess with the moons<br />crators<br />kiss the ocean and make it swoon<br />tell oshun i got her number<br />tell obatila he can only go but<br />so long before he needs to speak to me<br />in the mean time<br />give a high five to the mountains<br />and write a poem in the sand<br />then sit and contemplate<br />admixed the pipes of the city <br />mo hawk profile my thoughts<br />hands clasped<br />in the prayer of my mother's<br />prayer <br />i understand that its my breathrain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-14925506437129063872010-02-10T12:45:00.000-08:002010-02-10T13:07:45.995-08:00Journey though Sirreal Photography (raging sand)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUdOtnvnXx98r4MRza80k3HcrAltVUz5amYK8mU1Grom0bwZ9DLSCED1vdExkyjg52e5ypM1lFGwkCVuv_HsggIdQJVZH03G_hEVP6aYtc-poXoHaFzkqYrW00G9mptwau0Tt912Ir58k/s1600-h/Sherry+Cabronett+286.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUdOtnvnXx98r4MRza80k3HcrAltVUz5amYK8mU1Grom0bwZ9DLSCED1vdExkyjg52e5ypM1lFGwkCVuv_HsggIdQJVZH03G_hEVP6aYtc-poXoHaFzkqYrW00G9mptwau0Tt912Ir58k/s320/Sherry+Cabronett+286.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436724362857073874" /></a><br />she be sex and stars<br />wild and wide<br />praying for the dance<br />for the skylight hop<br />the gichi talk stuck in<br />the throat of a grasshopper<br />waiting to be eaten by a<br />black cat<br />with one eye rolling like<br />a marble through the streets<br />of Brazil<br />of Aruba <br />in the minds of Africa<br />the minds of Africans we be<br />addicted to the sex game<br />the theology contradiction<br />the marriage principal<br />but not every woman needs to be validated<br />by a man and not every man<br />needs a woman to take care of them<br />this is what i have learned<br />from lovers to lovers<br />sometimes especially when lovers<br />over lap<br />she did not nothing<br />just raw primal<br />and all<br />just the heat of her existence<br />the unruly of how she presented<br />her smell and the taste the spot she<br />picked as wild as her skin<br />sand tinted with the sun so she <br />almost blended into the scene<br />stealth has nothing on her<br />legs in parentheses <br />so as to show you what you could never<br />have if you do not process the ability<br />to touch her mind<br />said all of this here pointing<br />the the curves of her gnome<br />this is just the distraction<br />what you need to paying attention to<br />is the blade between my fingers<br />the sword in my throat<br />and the shotgun between my legs<br />i have swallowed souls<br />and build and destroyed nations<br />you have no clue <br />how to love me<br />how to really treat this woman<br />maybe she says<br />that isn't even the point<br />just come here<br />i am hungry for the world<br />and everything in itrain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-2019184549175144942010-02-10T12:41:00.001-08:002010-02-10T12:43:47.785-08:00Performing Uncle Slam @ Yale Pea Body Slam<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfPg1iftNM-AyY_faftX3Fbadkbza7lhkkgdd7vrFIUiCqHI5R8daTwK7-ul-1lW1U5DYN2t_fWrlYP_PxSJK4jo6Cou_4mybrfsVUukRc-lL1hnA2bAmCHVl6eN-9PES5Y2pSK31jDg/s1600-h/17337_1289504911026_1032325256_30906563_3917850_n.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhcfPg1iftNM-AyY_faftX3Fbadkbza7lhkkgdd7vrFIUiCqHI5R8daTwK7-ul-1lW1U5DYN2t_fWrlYP_PxSJK4jo6Cou_4mybrfsVUukRc-lL1hnA2bAmCHVl6eN-9PES5Y2pSK31jDg/s320/17337_1289504911026_1032325256_30906563_3917850_n.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436718301192969058" /></a><br /><object width="400" height="224" ><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/1305636874315" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/1305636874315" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="400" height="224"></embed></object>rain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-34139820262135740552010-02-10T10:09:00.000-08:002010-02-10T10:32:26.215-08:00Journey through Sirreal Photography (Raspberry)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiTIDth5yKY3x7jziKNav83OB041aRauEpjLAcc73YRPJrPcc6oodVuXGBP0_kr6Q-qttY1WlA8NbxY9CjepDMvQmo13944TR6HZiNpdN64cIrWnggH3pfjV43P9GJ8WvkU2zsCkHGUOc/s1600-h/Folasade+553.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiTIDth5yKY3x7jziKNav83OB041aRauEpjLAcc73YRPJrPcc6oodVuXGBP0_kr6Q-qttY1WlA8NbxY9CjepDMvQmo13944TR6HZiNpdN64cIrWnggH3pfjV43P9GJ8WvkU2zsCkHGUOc/s320/Folasade+553.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436683654195196834" /></a><br />______________________________<br />Africa across her face<br />black diamond for pupils<br />sunshine rising in her brow<br />city in cheek bones<br />the red of emotions<br />bursting from her lips<br />she looked as innocent<br />as war<br />as bloody as two lovers<br />caressing under the moon<br />generation upon generation<br />of ancestors in her hair<br />the voices must drive her crazy<br />her skin must scream sometimes<br />gypsy eyes with a touch of<br />fucked up <br />with a frown that gives you<br />that warm feeling when <br />someone tickles your fancy<br />tickles your mind still stuck<br />to the glue of thinking that beauty<br />is only in the eye of the beholder<br />it is our ability to make up<br />our faces <br />to tribal our way of life<br />back to our traditions back to<br />the mating dance<br />the maternity clock is forever ticking<br />men hear it to<br />woman sometimes times have to learn<br />it is not always them<br />but most times they be the ones<br />that control the feeling<br />the believing for a better tomorrow<br />there was<br />Africa across her face<br />black diamond for pupils<br />sunshine rising in her brow<br />city in cheek bones<br />the red of emotions<br />bursting from her lips<br />she looked as sweet<br />as lemons as<br />convincing as a lier<br />strapped to the sky<br />had them seeing them self's<br />in the eye of the believer<br />in the glory of the wind<br />dancing on the of chance<br />that this world may end<br />too soon<br />and you never got the chance<br />to see <br />Africa across her face<br />black diamond for pupils<br />sunshine rising in her brow<br />city in cheek bones<br />the red of emotions<br />bursting from her lipsrain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-55319832491504692192010-02-09T23:46:00.000-08:002010-02-10T00:11:43.029-08:00Journey though Sirreal Photography (Earth Seduction)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE1or8TB2PVzCpxNx217BG8OeD5g-iGfWl8LuDSEEszICX5yGLTeVcPmFizAdJls03ygxm_gWVpS9DEWp0CuM-raJOBE4fhM5JbWSbJJYezg-ZwxKz2wP5uE_Pyqwhnc7hSMes0GtkKTI/s1600-h/IMG_5093.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjE1or8TB2PVzCpxNx217BG8OeD5g-iGfWl8LuDSEEszICX5yGLTeVcPmFizAdJls03ygxm_gWVpS9DEWp0CuM-raJOBE4fhM5JbWSbJJYezg-ZwxKz2wP5uE_Pyqwhnc7hSMes0GtkKTI/s320/IMG_5093.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436524464688491714" /></a><br />She calls herself earth<br />eons old was around<br />before the warmth of the sun<br />before the bang<br />and science the god<br />and religion<br />calls herself the indescribable<br />the black of the black<br />laced chemistry<br />she knew one day she would<br />feel foot prints on her skin<br />took a human form<br />and she was this woman i knew<br />who loved the leaves<br />loved the breeze<br />said i am eternal<br />that my excuse as to why i don't care<br />what yours<br />all your love affairs <br />your trash and your smog<br />how you do you think this makes me feel<br />when my eyes burn every time I come down<br />to play with the leaves<br />in the fall<br />i fall for the way she moves<br />the humbleness trapped her groove<br />I am willing to love the earth<br />that way her skin loves these bones<br />willing to put my everything<br />up on a dice game<br />hoping for the snake of her eyes<br />the click in her walk<br />felt like she build my spine<br />told me i have a violin for a heart<br />so i sway with the cord<br />I don't care<br />as long as she is the sound i make<br />when my ribs smile<br />a babies breath inside<br />a kiss for all kisses<br />and lovers<br />she be earth <br />back before anything <br />walked across her mind<br />and i love how i swallow<br />her taste and embrace<br />with the morning air<br />with this feeling of the wind<br />spread eagle on my face<br />I swear to you I loved a woman<br />who called herself earth<br />kept me at bay<br />because she was eternal<br />and i am but fragile flesh<br />forced to find my footing<br />forever fondeling the thoughts<br />of how she felt<br />fever on my sweat<br />i follow the leaves in the fall<br />and remember how <br />I fallrain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-7012543902182318022010-02-09T22:46:00.000-08:002010-02-09T23:02:42.941-08:00Journey though Sirreal Photography (Little Girl)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqtaqi_3YUTz2A9H2IYR2WGL2d5jCL8e3BUCK6Pbvd2ZnF5Y7rqaDMQqveZc2OHsGXy7aVQYyRKOPe9mu5pcdAEhBrqESydsaHC1tjkFvDQIScA-NxgQIg38D22-SY_NOInlRp5KI4gLo/s1600-h/IMG_5879.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 214px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqtaqi_3YUTz2A9H2IYR2WGL2d5jCL8e3BUCK6Pbvd2ZnF5Y7rqaDMQqveZc2OHsGXy7aVQYyRKOPe9mu5pcdAEhBrqESydsaHC1tjkFvDQIScA-NxgQIg38D22-SY_NOInlRp5KI4gLo/s320/IMG_5879.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436506636821125234" /></a><br />Little girl<br />America is calling you<br />the hands of old white<br />racist men are lusting for your<br />curves in there sleep<br />this flag to your back<br />is not your own to claim<br />little girl<br />you stand in the snow<br />waiting for your moment<br />heart beating like a thousand lions<br />the snow screaming run<br />and your eyes fixated on the future<br />little girl<br />don't you know that behind that<br />door is a world you would do all over<br />again years later when you had<br />the chance<br />behind that door is a man<br />who you will regret in the midnight<br />of your mind <br />years later<br />behind that door is your dreams<br />dangling from a carrot<br />college tuition and the empty<br />promise of life after bombs<br />and artillery meant to separate<br />your soul from your innocence<br />little girl<br />i need you to walk away<br />walk in the direction of your future<br />your mother or whoever you hold<br />dear before you can never hold<br />them again<br />I need you to bend time<br />in your leather heals<br />hair slicked back to make it<br />easier for movement in the wind<br />they cant catch what they cant<br />catch<br />little girl<br />that flag does not represent your people<br />blood and blue and stars for bullets<br />mangled bones and super domes with no<br />help <br />little girl <br />come home<br />or choose to listen to the snow<br />at you feet <br />trying to melt fast enough so <br />you don't slip when you make your move<br />because their coming <br />for your black<br />your eggs to test<br />your life to marginalize<br />they are coming for the queen you are<br />little girl<br />i hope you have razors under your tongue<br />a serrated blade in your boots<br />or a gun under coat<br />little girl<br />give the 5 reasons why you say no<br />give them 3 moments to find them-selfs<br />give them 9 things that make<br />them buckle and cry right where<br />you stand <br />little girl i am going to need<br />you to walk to your future<br />listen to the snow at your feet<br />and pick something anything<br />but to walk through<br />that doorrain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-25743383239454902262010-02-09T22:09:00.000-08:002010-02-09T22:11:50.392-08:00Journey though Sirreal Photography (free write)<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI7Uk8vdvf2ZPYm-liWHSXHLB6HCygTDtWWXZWu8p2VO9ZR5_6VpnYaxHpWZEfwcaNBTGFv5II9HAS3UYD7jjyH6aW0_L0Hn3duuIcIe61Lv3AmU0E5fMxks3DZaHDQVGId67XovglEaQ/s1600-h/Michelle+Seabreeze+186.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 214px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjI7Uk8vdvf2ZPYm-liWHSXHLB6HCygTDtWWXZWu8p2VO9ZR5_6VpnYaxHpWZEfwcaNBTGFv5II9HAS3UYD7jjyH6aW0_L0Hn3duuIcIe61Lv3AmU0E5fMxks3DZaHDQVGId67XovglEaQ/s320/Michelle+Seabreeze+186.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436493589759624386" /></a><br />Your note has been created.<br />free writeShare<br /> Today at 1:00am | Edit Note | Delete<br />for ever<br />time<br />right here<br />in a place<br />where no one is looking<br />in a moment when the stars dare to smile<br />with sugar and pepper<br />sprinkiled on soft hands<br />water an nothing else<br />your eyes and nothing else<br />sometimes i dream of holding you<br />beyond this complication<br />what i did <br />what i figured would not matter anymore<br />these days sometimes are great<br />and sometimes are really bad<br />sometimes i almost feel like you where nothing but a memory<br />other times i can almost feel your breath on my neck<br />how is that even possible<br />when you are no where near me<br />I live in my dreams<br />somedays it is the only place where i am actually happy<br />my scares show to much<br />my healing is not fast enough<br />sunsets look almost as if they were strung through a needles eye<br />is there really a point to all this<br />how much hurt do i need to uncover before<br />i move on<br />how much feeling needs to be left by the road side<br />before i am free of your ghost<br />in my head<br />your touch on my skin<br />arms and legs hanging across<br />my body <br />i am so tired of being broken<br />tired of thinking i am broken<br />but really i am not really broken<br />just hurting<br />and yes<br />there is a difference<br />honestly<br />i love me <br />and really you could have<br />just been the wind<br />knocking at my doorrain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-85008647628027075472010-02-09T16:15:00.000-08:002010-02-09T16:44:03.768-08:00journey through Sirreal photography through the eyes of my pen (eye Brooklyn)<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqWENgMLFjcW5DVe3ef4thYTR5jhXvi3uibluPmUXAFWhZu2uwwPsNhD7oCmQjgLA-9nsDx8yAmxhtXYWNGCjO31M7Z74b21DP8KBTiFQAcx56e78qjiuH6IOqgbZCSRcAm9NkQiVJdVc/s1600-h/Khalima2.JPG"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqWENgMLFjcW5DVe3ef4thYTR5jhXvi3uibluPmUXAFWhZu2uwwPsNhD7oCmQjgLA-9nsDx8yAmxhtXYWNGCjO31M7Z74b21DP8KBTiFQAcx56e78qjiuH6IOqgbZCSRcAm9NkQiVJdVc/s320/Khalima2.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436409098733877074" /></a><br />she said you come <br />meet me in the park<br />in black and white<br />told me I got your life under my coat<br />waiting to give<br />you the skin of me<br />her voice suttle over the phone<br />E.y.e Brooklyn shanal bag<br />bound with tims for the walk<br />or I be impressionable<br />let you watch these heals<br />glide over cracked cement<br />or wood floors maybe up in the air<br />or in the kitchen with nothing else <br />to interupt these feelings but these<br />are the <br />same heals i used to put holes in niggas<br />when no wasn't enough for them<br />my stare is the only thing they can remember<br />in late december <br />i had to go hard for my life<br />I dont know if i can make you understand<br />how i walk with a world in my womb<br />and that man is looking real nervous about<br />the possobility of being a father<br />looked me in my eyes confessed<br />she thinks why should he even bother<br />it was love at first sight now she shrugs<br />at the spark<br />said life is chess not checkers <br />and if he doesn't stay she will make Brooklyn<br />be his father<br />now we walking past the fence and bench<br />skyline black and white like<br />a sheet of paper after a poem has been written on<br />I want to hold her like a lover<br />but she never noticed me<br />so i kept her fears <br />knew where the body she stashed was<br />knew this fence behind might have been <br />laughing at her<br />but i kept quit and listen<br />to her story<br />to her words carving through the wind of me<br />her cell went of she stared at me<br />eyes that could have been born no where<br />but Brooklyn<br />picked up and said hello<br />voice muffled over the phone<br />one tear fell <br />she hung up looked at the bench <br />the wind picked up<br />put something in my back a feeling<br />un like anything i could ever describe to you<br />put my finger on her chin<br />stepped close<br />put my other hand on her belly<br />said my life under your coat<br />lets go home and pack your<br />things<br />she kissed with tears and fear<br />a shot of everything<br />years later we are making the bed<br />together and she looks at me<br />with those eyes<br />E.y.E Brooklyn.rain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-4909213305393715232010-02-09T15:27:00.000-08:002010-02-09T15:31:21.311-08:00journey through Sirreal photography through the eyes of my penSo here we go again<br /><br />I am going to write a poem for every sirreal photography photo<br />that i pick a day every day until i have wrote a poem for all<br />of the pictures <br />feel free to comment <br />and see the progressrain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-52166328654339880582010-02-09T13:14:00.000-08:002010-02-09T15:47:47.779-08:00Butterflies Moving in Symphony<object width="320" height="240" ><param name="allowfullscreen" value="true" /><param name="allowscriptaccess" value="always" /><param name="movie" value="http://www.facebook.com/v/1191779667956" /><embed src="http://www.facebook.com/v/1191779667956" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true" width="320" height="240"></embed></object>rain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1906980278425666549.post-70537860745607484062010-02-09T12:56:00.000-08:002010-02-09T13:12:01.838-08:00Wind Whisper<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_5OPLzjzZFxEjLHUZ-YDJlnOUyWRFlDY2fQXS88bklY46nwblUeuYhj_8r7VZEevV2mpl5KCiAyWIOVxmR8KojKJ8HEtk4IvzsPtBWM1GMBCoXLou_u9JgXm09Fy9SEEU03gWetf6trU/s1600-h/27559-12140266101-africa.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 319px; height: 320px;" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_5OPLzjzZFxEjLHUZ-YDJlnOUyWRFlDY2fQXS88bklY46nwblUeuYhj_8r7VZEevV2mpl5KCiAyWIOVxmR8KojKJ8HEtk4IvzsPtBWM1GMBCoXLou_u9JgXm09Fy9SEEU03gWetf6trU/s320/27559-12140266101-africa.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5436354492604719778" /></a><br /><strong>She left me standing there <br />with my future in my hand <br />crinkled beer can and all <br />a feeling of unbecoming hitting <br />my cerebral like bullets making <br />imaginary halos in my heart <br />wanted her build a galaxy inside of <br />a raindrop she said <br />if only gravity was my only limitation <br />then maybe she could quite <br />possibly see a future with me <br />she amuses herself with playing <br />tricks on my mind a doppelganger <br />or a shadow with its own consciousness <br />moved like sparrows with broken wings <br />opened her mouth to reveal 8 centuries <br />of cotton laced with dragons breath <br />trying to comprehend her pH balance <br />my brain has been bouncing my soul <br />uncoiled to the rhythm of her hair <br />I swear the moon seemed more like her father <br />watched me carefully each touch <br />calculated to eons <br />made me care like heaven didn't mater <br />like a Palestine girl in front of a tank with <br />knees buckled and head bowed to the ground <br />pulled the ripcord seconds before <br />these withered emotions became love <br />before wrinkled sentiment became <br />a concrete commitment <br />she left me with my future <br />told me somewhere in the wind song <br />in the eyes of the depressed I would find <br />her laughing <br />I feel like she is stalking these poems <br />in my aftertaste of food of touch <br />of women <br />I think I swallowed her before when <br />I swore I was with someone that made me <br />feel as if breathing was not necessary <br />felt unequal to the ground <br />undeserving to the sun <br />a microcosm of an inebriated <br />climax stuck here <br />the way she left me with my future <br />in my hand <br />carried messages from the tips of <br />my fingertips to the searing Congo <br />drums in my ears <br />a message simple <br />but lifetimes away <br />all she said <br />in order for you to find me <br />all you would ever have to do <br />is <br />breathe</strong>rain makerhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14047466726432567855noreply@blogger.com0