Names do not matter;
Beyond our mere existence -
God is still the same.
Love SongDon't choke the love out of meLove Song by Filosofia
prodding incessantly for words and expressions;
I know you hoped my love for you
would move me to speak in gushes of verse,
but if the river were to dry
neither you nor I
could force it to do otherwise;
your frantic pales of spilling water, your harrowing spades
would only deepen the wound in the earth.
Lifeless it will flow
still it will die.
If gravity should command a different course
who are we to argue with the earth?
In vain, they hurl their should's and should-not's
wrapping their minds in shroud upon shroud
their hearts, pulverized -
cast in casts of error
infests the darkness; a fear of pain.
The sight of blood to the eyes is fine -
but the mind
(seeking refuge in the blind)
refuses to see hearts bleed, and die.
Don't choke the love out of me;
the love is gone, and you're choking me.
SpeedSpeedSpeed by Filosofia
is distance over time.
Distance is separation
the crack, the void,
a pain to be savored.
Time is passing
there's not enough to waste
in circular definitions;
time is a line, without a curve.
speed is the wind
blowing through your hair
not the numbers you stare at
as the world passes by.
...Your warm hair's a sonnet,... by Filosofia
Your scent is a song
Your smile is a painting
Of where I belong.
Your voice is my prayer
Your lips are my wine
Your heartbeat, my temple;
Pristine and divine.
Your eyes a deep well
A sweet ode to glee
Your confident gait;
Yet these words are naught
But insult to Time
For you are a poem
In no need of rhyme.
BlindMaybe her voiceBlind by Filosofia
Whispered through your ears
(in your mind)
Feels like her silky wisps of hair
At your fingertips
Maybe her smile
Brighter than the sun
Reflected in her eyes
Melts the world
Into the palm of your hand
Leaving you lost
In a space-less void
Sweet as honey, intoxicating as wine
To you she's all that is pure and divine
But I swear by the star where our fates intertwine,
No heart could ever love you as mine.
Therefore is winged cupid painted blind
ParadisicalThey entered the Garden together. The plastic gloves hid the soft sagging of slowly aging skin, and there was a distinctly adolescent quality to their desperately locked fingers. Lily strapped on her gas mask with a quick glance at Sam, then unlocked the door, watching as the airlock slowly adjusted to compensate for the atmospheric change. The last thing they wanted to do, after all, was contaminate the air.Paradisical by cairnthecrow
It was an abrupt transition, going from their office into the Garden, and once again Lily felt a pang in her stomach, a wistful feeling of melancholy. It was a beautiful placedraped with their home-grown trees and vines and flowers, some real, most artificial, all gleaming a rich green under the solar lights.
She carried the new plants cradled in her arms; he carried his pruning shears and the test kit. It didnt take long for them to be noticed. Within five minutes, the Garden erupted into the swirl of babbling that always denoted the childrens arrival.
So, You Think You Can Romance?It's no surprise that I'm a terribly sentimental romantic. Or, well--it shouldn't be a big surprise for anyone who's paid attention. That said, I stop just short of writing grocery-store plot lines because I truly feel there must be more to romance than fantasy. It can't just be the hero sweeping in to rescue the dame; it shouldn't need some hackneyed time period or overplayed backdrop to keep the story interesting. Setting's important, and characterization is important but, beyond all else, there should be an immediate and passionate sense of authenticity. When I read romance--the type that truly affects me--I want to believe in the possibility of that kind of love. I want to believe that relationships like that really do exist.So, You Think You Can Romance? by GeneratingHype
So what's "that" anyway?
Well, now-a-days people consider "Romance" to be those books with Fabio on the front cover. However, that isn't whe
GoodbyeBeneath the rain-soaked canopy, among the sparkling dewGoodbye by Francine1991
A melancholy tune disturbs the silence were used to
Weep now as we recount it tears should cloud and sting your eyes
At the songs of mourning mingling with the tempests baleful cries.
These songs, unheard by most the world, are tales of plain despair.
See; if you listen hard enough, they seem to fill the air.
And everywhere you turn you see the reasons realise!
Thoughtless encounters lead to beautys untimely demise.
The song, instead of fading, swells into a great climax.
For its singers know, as well as us: theyre never coming back.
Current Residence: Alexandria, Egypt|
Favourite genre of music: Rock, Alternative, Indie, and anything acoustic.
Favourite style of art: simplicity, elegance.. grace.
MP3 player of choice: iPod Touch