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Poetry For Soul: "Lost" By Pierina Medina






Blue orchids blossom in the root of my mind

I'm blind

but my eyes are one of a kind

I find

that in the rainforest 

we are at a consistent loss

only to find the right paths 

in order for our souls should cross

and I'm lost

at a cause that caused these ripples in my sleep

I'm only "sane" when one's to blame

when love's impossible to keep

and when I creep 

I find that I have fallen far too deep

these words then form and then conform

and become these thoughts so sure to seep...

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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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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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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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New Poem Coming Soon

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