Must've been something in the air ,
colors surrounding the prelims went dazed and confused,
I for one may have gotten twisted by it's disguise,
I bite my tongue to listen to more than a broken soul,
More than broken eyes looking for pieces of thy heart so scattered,
Must've been something in the room
For my heart broke yet I betrayed myself in a way,
A way of what one would not do persay
I'm loosing myself as well with you, you see
Tommorow is never promised so whats with the sad face ,
I look for myself everyday but am still lost
I smile
Must've been something visually appealing right before my irises,
I blink to acknowledge my visual perception,
It's dark maybe I'll open my eyes to see more
Shall I see more than I can grasp at this time vividly
Is time gonna catch up to my perception
Only time will tell
Yet again
Must've been something in the air....
God & Time on Parade
Written: by Tom Wright
11/14/2014
Intently,
I listen for any sounds of Fife or Drum;
But with no visual perception,
I find only muteness of time marching on;
In its own manner it pilfers our memories
Leaving granite chiseled names,
And pillaged spaces where faces once dwelled.
Time bequeaths each a past,
Grants the present Millisecond,
And conveys hope of a future;
I Still Write
You touch my heart without using your hands
I have no one to tell who really understands
If I love you in silence, there’s no rejection…
Confession: my love, my obsession… suppression is causing depression… forced into no expression….for the sake of visual perception
If I adore you from a distance I won’t get hurt
If I hold you in my dreams, they never have to end
If I kiss you in the wind, it doesn’t feel like pretend
I wanna treat the space between us like… a sacred distance between the stars
This space feels insurmountable tho…guess no one’s ever been to Mars
Sometimes my pen helps me to let go…Other times, I don’t know
Love you can’t outgrow...So If I have to carry it…
I wanna do it like a pro…that’s why I still write
~Casaundra
Intently,
I listen for any sounds of Fife or Drum;
But with no visual perception,
I find only muteness of time marching on;
In its own manner it pilfers our memories
Leaving Granite chiseled names,
And pillaged spaces where faces did dwell.
Time bequeaths each a past,
Grants the present millisecond,
And conveys hope of a future.
Dreaming heavy, glory with in my visual perception
Unlike the next kid, my spectacle leads me in my direction
So to answer your question, no I've never tasted perfection
But I stood over the alter, and to my sin I confessed it
So lets let faith decide, when my thoughts collide,
Whether or not my truth, is hidden behind my lies
Cause within my mind, I unknowingly prophecise,
As the angels soar, I sit and I watch them glide
From an innocent child, I evolved in the transformation
Given the ambition, to give a period "exclamation"
Given a gift, given the power of magnification
A lyrical angel, sent from heaven to the United Nation
Blistered over I'm scarred up from broken times,
Through broken eyes, I read in between broken lines
Put together the pieces and you might finally realize,
That the answer to every question is within my eyes
Balance out the rhymes, forget a cerebellum function
When thoughts, touch paper and ink bleeds is my only conjuction
Inject the lead, let the ink bleed red,
Every masterpiece begins with a simple thought in your head
When worthwhile thoughts become elusive,
To a less mature time, in thought, I gander.
Time then, to me, didn't appear conclusive,
So I permit my psyche there to meander.
In thought I re-live my youth once more,
For in real time, life grants no provision.
For traveling back in time to days of yore,
To tracks once etched with fine precision.
But soon thoughts drift from this game.
My visual perception now in the present day.
Find opportunities remain exactly the same,
As before worn thoughts scurried me away.
Kaleidoscope
Vibrant colours reflect emotions,
A rainbow of memories.
Fluorescent hopes,
Realistic to some, not others.
Translucent warmth,
Green with envy.
"Filmy Voices" colour blind,
Shades of red and black.
Colorless possessions,
Mirror symmetrical patterns.
Abstract, yet crystal clear,
A medley of visual perception.
Kaleidoscope,
I saw, I heard, I felt.
Perspectives diverse,
a colourful moment in time.
good deeds,
would bring,
the hoods needs down,
should we frown; upon
people of charitable consciousness?
Inheritable prominence,
doesn't complement,
who we are,
like multiple atoms flowing near moving stars,
we come together,
whatever the weather, and when ever endeavors,
of non-pleasure surface.
we question the purpose,
as the essence is worked in,
to the curtains, of visual perception,
Theres minimal objections,
to helping others,
I'm inhaling the wonders,
of prana,
Like uncovering sauna's,
theres allota, steam,
so all them deeds,
witch were good become anomalies,
in time,
so your psychologically inclined,
to be a better person...
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