Hear the vision humm in your mind, painting crimson moons of colour for there is trouble when we wake the cyclops that sleeps. The mind is hungry for a challenge, words leave an imprint like tattoo, the weak ones are smoke dancing in and out like belly dancers, strong words become form they are commitment taking shape building stature, then evolving further.You orbit your world, leaving brush strokes of dreams, breathing oxygen like a dragons breath into a quiet corner. When you whisper, the dreams they gather, locked in a warm embrace, limbs connected, creating steps developing a path of escapism. You are the womb, the dream is the oxygen
Whisper a song so sweet, it plays like a melody upon my veins.
A trumpet inside my heart, and excites every bone in my body.
Every pulse, every twitch, every jerk every muscle.
It is the magic of delving into a new reality,
of becoming elastic beyond ones comfort zone of accessing great knowledge and great change.
I dive into this network of new creative splendour,
the architect to my own wonderment,
hoping to dazzle my reflection, and awe at the change.
Woman you are beautiful for him?
You paint a rainbow with your smile,
and you say you are beautiful for him?
The trees sing as you glide by,
each afro green a shrub of oxygen nursing you to health,
an exchange between nature as your voluptuos form fluid takes elastic strides to a carnival universe.
Woman you are buoyant in your skin,
each sentence a resurrection of knowledge on your tongue,
words that pirouette,
starlettes,electric before the sun.
The world is yours because you are beautiful for you.
Awake in an oblivion,
a master to myself,
a creative compass i need little else,
but to see with the eyes,
that can pierce through glass,
move with abundance of moses staff,
a mind that transcends moon sun and sky,
a mind as a weapon a tool to fly,
for when the world saunters to embrace what cannot be kept,
i am way beyond your common sense, whats catered in boxes ,
or nursed with a smile, it may take me a while,
it may take me a while, but i am infinity.
You are electric on the canvas,
your soul a compass,
striking a chord of creative mastery,
injecting art, and fever into the magic of the world.
Sing your song with buoyant jubilee for a marching band is coming,
they aim to set you free.
Miracle girl he will dance when you smile,
lay out the carpet like a moon for you,
share your words like a song.
Miracle girl he will love your thick afro hair,
the hues of culture in your eyes,
the high accent of your cheekbones and the chip in your teeth.
When you walk, he will strut like a peacock proud to have you,
and kneel before you at the alter with an Orb in his heart.