#ProjectLovebot

I love the Upper East Side of Manhattan. When i'm not dog-walking here or showing apartments, I sit on this very bench at Normandie Court and let my mind drip. Then dip. And to me, it always looks like this. <3 

If what you do is sing then sing until melody is EVERYTHING. If what YOU DO is dance, prance across the globe and through the streets of romance and if what you do IS  paint paint me a dream far from faint; hold no boundaries, hold no constraints. If you  BUILT  me a cloud its the new home for these thoughts and I'll build us a home WITH the  LOVE  that I've brought. If what you do is SMILE then warm up this room show teeth FOR a mile and you'll reach the stars soon and if you like to run then run for THE prize and if you just play BALL, then please aim for the SKY . If you like to play instruments drums or guitar then PLAY me a tune heal my heart of these scars  if you happen to rap, then spit a 16 and show ME  those bars validate your regime inject my blood stream PLEASE don’t be MAINSTREAM because rap equals essence and HIP HOP  my queen. If what you do is WRITE … then write m

"What kind of task is that?" My mother would ask. "To inspire the world with an artistic mask?" I could feel the wrath and a near heart attack. "but that's who I am" I responded back. And then caught my tone, see I had yelled it back. And I then got the feeling my whole life, I slacked. But I won't get time back if I argue and snap, See I needed that push, I just needed that slap. But I thank her, and yes, now I'm back in a trap And after she called it, I followed her tracks. See success is so simple, its just white and it's black If you get past that grey and accept the hard facts. Dear Mother,  I can explain, though I don't take that back  When i'm writing so zealously thoughts come in packs And if they're not released, the consumption is fast  for these words liberate me of wrongs in my past. But I DONT own a mask, still silly ol'

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In the far lands of the east live mechanical beasts Who love to feast on styles of street Hearts so cryptic bow their feet And from their hearts true dreams excrete. We embody love; and inhale success Apart from lust for happiness so temporary, far from whole The strongest fists and painful blows. We stay so high, a drug called life We come with bullets, guns and knives! Deliver through the vivid stories This art, this world, that place of glory Come suck our thoughts, let’s take this ride Lets make it epic, BONAFIDE. Dreamers tonight, wake in the morning because a deadly army is quickly forming. Can we reverse, the curse upon us Lets change their thoughts, so kings they’ll call us Lets balance love, but not with hate As for the devil, eradicate. See life is rough, at times so deadly Please carry on, and live it steadily. Go ride a bike, go blow some steam Go finish school, or live your dream. Lets get together, follow me

Ora Tamir at  www.orasart.com It’s the shape of my eyes, my body and soul, the color of my mind... I belong to music, and these lyrics are mine. The beat is fast, pounding thrusts from within her chest. The music it brings to her ears are of that melodic guitar-the unique guitar... with strings made of veins. It plays so loudly, her eardrums become numb to the sound of the beat. Don’t strum too hard, cuz ink will bleed, and when the ink bleeds, her soul excretes and stories of a young gremlin are told . A girl so keen, she made the rhythms bleed. Stories of a dark child, the daughter of jazz, rock and hip hop Stories of how she made their hearts stop, their mouths drop. Stories round the tick tock she stops the clocks and thoughts pop Her cryptic mind is the simplest hard knock! Cliché? I think not, for this delivery is TOO hot. Should you question someone’s passion? I think not. Woke up feeling fierce today, but this fire is everyday,