Be A Sucker, Not A SUCKER!

Sucker for love.

And I'd write you a POEM if push comes to shove
It's now friday night and PRAY

to ABOVE that my SOUL someday flies

Like the eagles and doves.

And I know...

That my THOUGHTS are my

OWN.

But I wish on a STAR that

you've learned them and grown

Because life is too short to asses and

CONDONE

these emotions of poison...

or wind up

ALONE.

Comments

The Dopest Ones

Song of The Week - "Number Two" By Chadd Downing

I've been listening closely to this amazing artist from Trenton, NJ, Chadd Downing. I'm in love with several tracks on his mixtape "PMFL" but this "Number Two" track produced by Hannibal King is just what the doctor ordered. For a hip hop/rap loving poetry enthusiast like myself, it captivates the essence. Take a quick listen and tell me what you think. Then, feast your ears to the rest of his dopeness on http://chadd-downing.tumblr.com/

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R.I.P MY LOVE, YOU WILL ALWAYS BE IN MY HEART!

"...STOP MAKIN' A FOOL... OUTTA MEEEEEE..."

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Blue Moons and Fashion

Stare at your reflections like you're staring into brightness. In a dimly little room say "greatness (patient) waits to bite this." Our fear allowed me to write this so my voice can try and recite this so that wonderful dreams and what lover won't see make an impact enough to ignite this. If you like this, your heaven excites this. If you're "woke" you could never despise this. Our thrones and abilities naturally grow, our mental agility rises... ... and the sky is where our high is. Anyone else's being where mine is? Are we blind? Is lack of kindness raising numbers in crisis like time is? Is it temporary, is it timeless? the pollution has rendered us blinded. Could we ever abuse or get used to the blues if our mindlessness leads to deny this? So I close my eyes and I find this alarm only goes off when the time is to speak of what I know in a poetic form and just pray that one soul could enlighten... ...til then, blue m

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The Trap

If you ride the Brooklyn bound A train in Manhattan... Blank stares on the A train I recognize this too completely Express stops to nowhere Where expressions can live freely And the train is packed so there's no room for healing what we're dealing with here. It's called new yorker syndrome. Out of towners are perplexed by The emptiness such a lit city can bring home. Their accents, questions and lack of direction makes our ears ring. They don't understand us . They know that we are free While we fear they'll reprimand us For feeling free enough to agree that A little while back new York fucked up the family tree that brings us all together, and we're Losing hopes due to the note that we might have fucked up forever . We don't mind our own endeavors enough To hide the disdain because It costs us to breathe . We often don't complain because the garners had it worse and Their

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Synopsis

In my mind i have a Visual Of all of my residuals The mess that i have made Love CAN be individual! I never try to escape it I try to cast no fears And every time I fall again My soul just drowns in tears. I wear my claws out on my sleeves So you could See it coming And don't you hide Behind those eyes Or think that you'll be running. I don't relate to evil But the world is far from safe, And til I head back home I need a love I could embrace One with good intention, One with no expectation. One that results happiness And much consideration. A love so strong it's concrete An abstract work of art, An accident engraved itself Directly in my heart. My heavy thoughts - apocalyptic They hide inside These thoughts so cryptic It's far from normal, Destiny brought this It's project lovebot, MY synopsis With Love, P.

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Elements Of The Bot Week III (Part 1)

deadlines, contracts, #projectlovebot... all on my mind. Today's Agenda. Where's my Chai Latte? I'm gonna make this. An idea. =) =) double =) =) Mitochondria, The Foundation.

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Edgar Allan

Acrylic Paint on a 16"x 24" Canvas By Pea Medina Instagram

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Twenty-Fine "Queen"

Photo: Jamaal Clark visit IG page Model/Muse: Pea Medina visit IG page What makes you "queen"? Is it an imaginary place in your own game of thrones, or that stare of stone from above your cheekbones that let the entire world just know? Is it inside of your pupils that lie countless miles of self worth since you've #broken down the walls of a curse that for lifetimes caused you some necessary hurt? Were you ready to convert into the woman that on this day they stare in the face with such grace? Like the best wine that took it's sweet while to get that fine, you've developed a lasting taste only authenticity can define. You have to have been there to see it- done all these years with me to believe it when TIME was the only remedy that churned this self love, so divine. So a toast just for you, twenty-nine.

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New Poem Coming Soon

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#ProjectLovebot

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