Rihanna vs. Metallica - Diamonds Vs The Unforgiven (Djs From Mars Bootleg Remix)
It was all he ever asked really.
Was for her to shine... so bright... like the diamond she is. She will forever be. It's pressure you know. That creates the diamond. Hidden. Away from sight. Deep in the earth. Under pressure tremendous. At times so great it would seem to destroy. Iit not only survives... but emerges all the glorious. Surrounded in beauty. Sheathed in grace. None will know. Yet...
In her smile...
The shine in her eye...
The laughing twist of her hair....
She will not reveal.
We live in a world, where madness is genius. Imperfection beauty, and the willingness to be absolutely outlandish for acceptance is commonplace.
How did she react? The hesitating, complicated end of the conversation, disguised the difficulty she felt at being accepted for who she was. Really was. Shine bright he would remind...
But her laughter broke.
The turn of her head. Hair cascading. Waiting. Longing for the touch, the trace along her neck. So beautiful. Longing. For the touch. To enter the boundary, the space between her head, and her heart. Do you dare? Lips burn. Waiting for the contact. So far. So near. The shortest distance between two is maddening. Minute pass between her supple rise so beautiful, waiting, longing for the caress of his hands, burning, longing, only moments away. But so are moments.
Blood flowed. Life cried. Pouring, passing, waiting....
wanting...
for release. For hands... for lips... burning press. After a monets hesitation, the drawing in, her pouring out. Longing to be lost. In the few moments they had, before all was lost to passion.
And in the other they were blissfully consumed. All.
Shine bright...
Diamond.
Monday, July 2, 2018
Sunday, July 1, 2018
1::17 or 6:42 I will touch the tender wall
Peter Gabriel: In your eyes
Darkness. So pervasive. It could enter the mind. Make one think... make one believe that which was so untrue. A travesty.A colum built of nothing. Nothing more that the lies, one silently whispered to oneself, or the shame, which, in reality, is little more than the lies someone else told you about yourself.
That you believed.
If only for a moment... however passing.
He had been in the darkness. So engulfing. So deafening. You shout. It shouts back. In the moment where he pressed into the darkness, and the darkness pressed back, he had had enough. It would not win. It would not deprive him. So he thought. He remembered the light. The shining sphere she held within her eyes. That glimmer might be enough He held it aloft. He went in search.
With each he found however, his light only grew brighter. Piercing back the engulfing darkness. They crawled. Ramshackle joints that had almost forgotten movement. That had wondered why they should. Yet he moved. He moved on. He searched for her. The knooks, the crannies. He would find her.
Her light as too precious.
Too.
Would she ever know?
Till he found the beauty. So desperate. She tried to hide. Almost. As if. She should hide. That which made her so much... so much more. She was not born to fit in. She was born to stand out.
Did she not know?
Did she not see?
In the light he had brought fir her? The illumination of beauty devastating. Her beauty tight. Forming... ever so... the tightness, the turn, the supple, pleasing... decimating... yet to pull close... so worth the price... to die...
...In the midst of living.
So she was.
Darkness. So pervasive. It could enter the mind. Make one think... make one believe that which was so untrue. A travesty.A colum built of nothing. Nothing more that the lies, one silently whispered to oneself, or the shame, which, in reality, is little more than the lies someone else told you about yourself.
That you believed.
If only for a moment... however passing.
He had been in the darkness. So engulfing. So deafening. You shout. It shouts back. In the moment where he pressed into the darkness, and the darkness pressed back, he had had enough. It would not win. It would not deprive him. So he thought. He remembered the light. The shining sphere she held within her eyes. That glimmer might be enough He held it aloft. He went in search.
With each he found however, his light only grew brighter. Piercing back the engulfing darkness. They crawled. Ramshackle joints that had almost forgotten movement. That had wondered why they should. Yet he moved. He moved on. He searched for her. The knooks, the crannies. He would find her.
Her light as too precious.
Too.
Would she ever know?
Till he found the beauty. So desperate. She tried to hide. Almost. As if. She should hide. That which made her so much... so much more. She was not born to fit in. She was born to stand out.
Did she not know?
Did she not see?
In the light he had brought fir her? The illumination of beauty devastating. Her beauty tight. Forming... ever so... the tightness, the turn, the supple, pleasing... decimating... yet to pull close... so worth the price... to die...
...In the midst of living.
So she was.
Thursday, June 28, 2018
Teardrops in a waterfall
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rTSN8faTRwI
So many moons. He remembered her. So many moons... yet... he remembered.
They had met in the fall. Life dying surrounded while the life between them came to life. Change in seasons followed. Suddenly caught in the bloom of flowers it should come as little surprise, it was nurtured in the spring.
He was with the other on the floor, both furious actors in a passion play. Actors desperate to have the love that fumed below to erupt from masks held so furiously tight. Afraid to feel totally knowing that it might bring back the pain devastating. A primal payback for every pinnacle of pleasure reached. Perhaps her fell a bit... but his was held on so tight.
So tight.
That is when she entered. Robe loosely tied around her waist. Like an artist she clad herslef with the diminutive reveal. It showed just enough to make his mind run wild. Imagination is the most powerful aphrodisiac. She knew.
"Cover your eyes," she said, hoping all the while he wouldn't.
He did. He said. The gap between the fingers driven by curiosity intense however took him towards the gates of heaven.
The knot untied. The robe slipped. Her back bare was on full display. As she had positioned herself in front of a mirror, not only did he catch the glory of the side, but the power of the front as well. Passion twisted. Passion turned.
In her tiny pirouette of preparation, though each supple move, the slight twist, he was clearly able to capture everything: soft moves crying for his touch, heat building as she placed herself on display.
It was almost too much. Though glorious... he didn't know if she knew that there was so much more to the totally of her beauty.
The smile.
Curious sparkle in...
her eye. She wanted to experience all. She wanted to know all. She was a tableau rosa waiting to be written upon. If only he dared. His slighted touch, his slightest mark, would forever make an impression she would forever cherish. What do you know, she beckoned. What can you show me, she dared. Bold. Brave. Nothing could harm her. She would laugh. Scar tissue is so much stronger than regular tissue you know. And every scar is merely a memorial that something that tried to destroy you failed. She laughed. She knew that when one got to heaven St. Peter wouldn't be looking for whole hearts... but rather those that encased in scars. Ripped and raged though. Scars were proof of a life lived fully. Marks of those who dared. Dared to be so open they could be damaged. They could be hurt. So be it.
He would know when he bore scars of his own. He wondered if she understood that...
...her scars...
and his...
were beautiful.
Teardrops
In a waterfall.
So many moons. He remembered her. So many moons... yet... he remembered.
They had met in the fall. Life dying surrounded while the life between them came to life. Change in seasons followed. Suddenly caught in the bloom of flowers it should come as little surprise, it was nurtured in the spring.
He was with the other on the floor, both furious actors in a passion play. Actors desperate to have the love that fumed below to erupt from masks held so furiously tight. Afraid to feel totally knowing that it might bring back the pain devastating. A primal payback for every pinnacle of pleasure reached. Perhaps her fell a bit... but his was held on so tight.
So tight.
That is when she entered. Robe loosely tied around her waist. Like an artist she clad herslef with the diminutive reveal. It showed just enough to make his mind run wild. Imagination is the most powerful aphrodisiac. She knew.
"Cover your eyes," she said, hoping all the while he wouldn't.
He did. He said. The gap between the fingers driven by curiosity intense however took him towards the gates of heaven.
The knot untied. The robe slipped. Her back bare was on full display. As she had positioned herself in front of a mirror, not only did he catch the glory of the side, but the power of the front as well. Passion twisted. Passion turned.
In her tiny pirouette of preparation, though each supple move, the slight twist, he was clearly able to capture everything: soft moves crying for his touch, heat building as she placed herself on display.
It was almost too much. Though glorious... he didn't know if she knew that there was so much more to the totally of her beauty.
The smile.
Curious sparkle in...
her eye. She wanted to experience all. She wanted to know all. She was a tableau rosa waiting to be written upon. If only he dared. His slighted touch, his slightest mark, would forever make an impression she would forever cherish. What do you know, she beckoned. What can you show me, she dared. Bold. Brave. Nothing could harm her. She would laugh. Scar tissue is so much stronger than regular tissue you know. And every scar is merely a memorial that something that tried to destroy you failed. She laughed. She knew that when one got to heaven St. Peter wouldn't be looking for whole hearts... but rather those that encased in scars. Ripped and raged though. Scars were proof of a life lived fully. Marks of those who dared. Dared to be so open they could be damaged. They could be hurt. So be it.
He would know when he bore scars of his own. He wondered if she understood that...
...her scars...
and his...
were beautiful.
Teardrops
In a waterfall.
Tuesday, June 26, 2018
Ever tight
Hey Jude: Remix
Music bold
Proceeded
Her entry
Boisterous
Robe
So White
So
Covering
Regions
Precious
Treasure bounced beneath
Held only
by a diminutive knot
So tight
Only she
Could uncover
"I'm not ready"
Her cue
For him to cover his eyes
Hands
Fumbled
Would She
Ever be
Ready
To see
The Beauty
Her Beauty
Underneath
Did she know
Her eyes held
The question
He wanted to spend
The rest of his life
Answering
Shining
Glittering
Through
The twist
The grin
Supple flow
Gentle request
Her glory
So precious
Display slight
Of her side caught
Gentle glorious
Calling
Waiting
expectant
To cover
So it was
So it goes
Even then...
The artist could not avert his eyes
Diminutive gaps between
He saw
The beauty
Forms released
So bold
So beautiful
Rising
So high
Longing
Forever remain
Bold
Beautiful
Skin
Untouched
By time
So supple
Rising
To touch
Her gentle
Pirouette
In front
Of the mirror
Offering only
A shallow reflection
Feeble attempt to display
The glory she had become
Tiny moments pass
Pause
Recollection
as
The knowledge
The glory
She just
became
Should he tell
Of the longing
Burning
Fuming for
The grace
The touch
Of the trace
Along her
Burning
So hot
So fuming
Between
Body
Remains
Ever tight
Music bold
Proceeded
Her entry
Boisterous
Robe
So White
So
Covering
Regions
Precious
Treasure bounced beneath
Held only
by a diminutive knot
So tight
Only she
Could uncover
"I'm not ready"
Her cue
For him to cover his eyes
Hands
Fumbled
Would She
Ever be
Ready
To see
The Beauty
Her Beauty
Underneath
Did she know
Her eyes held
The question
He wanted to spend
The rest of his life
Answering
Shining
Glittering
Through
The twist
The grin
Supple flow
Gentle request
Her glory
So precious
Display slight
Of her side caught
Gentle glorious
Calling
Waiting
expectant
To cover
So it was
So it goes
Even then...
The artist could not avert his eyes
Diminutive gaps between
He saw
The beauty
Forms released
So bold
So beautiful
Rising
So high
Longing
Forever remain
Bold
Beautiful
Skin
Untouched
By time
So supple
Rising
To touch
Her gentle
Pirouette
In front
Of the mirror
Offering only
A shallow reflection
Feeble attempt to display
The glory she had become
Tiny moments pass
Pause
Recollection
as
The knowledge
The glory
She just
became
Should he tell
Of the longing
Burning
Fuming for
The grace
The touch
Of the trace
Along her
Burning
So hot
So fuming
Between
Body
Remains
Ever tight
Sunday, June 10, 2018
Harmony Collaspes
Jethro Tull - Skating Away on the Thin Ice of the New Day, Live 1980
Harmony collapsing upon harmony. Wait. You don't hear it... wait. The man of dissonance thrown from the theater. So simple for the ones who look, but don't see. He is one. Perhaps he is central. mad man made to run by a central mind running. Made to hovel. Bow before the universal. Laughter. Mocker. Heretic. He doesn't know. He doesn't care. Society will move, sufficient to later languish... so desperately swallow on the mild scraps marking his trail. Forgetting meals sacrificed for little more than pitiful parcels perhaps... that was all they could ever handle.
Harmony collapses upon harmony.
She...
Will see...
Will be...
The...
Rabbit on the run.
The sound builds. The movements form each into each. The blend. The moment. The forever present, melds quickly into the past, leading towards a future unforgiving.
He drove back... drove through. The place where... life erupted. Interrupted for a moment. Every so sacred. Ever so... The place where they didn't make love... love made them. One joined to one, seamless in making the other... that began the world anew. He looked. He saw. So much had changed. So much had stayed the same.
Memory reduced to nothing more than a lying mirror. Cooing soft, cooing slight, seducing in its wait. All he could do was salvage that... which he knew was sweet. Was pure. Even if it was little more, than little more... it was his.
But the tales it told... so sweet... so magnificent. Though he knew he could never go back... never change... anything. But he smiled. It could never be taken. Never be stolen. Purity that shames the very angels can happen... and it did. The laugh, the cry, the defiant fist rose against that which will, which does, remind the problem always was not with his passion, but his lack of control over over them. While the whiplash smile in subversive shadows, reminded that perhaps it was not his passions, but a banal world civilized that cried... that screamed desperate for the passions that erupted from his very existence as it collapsed back toward...
the banal bacinal...
...decadent land, that had traded its soul...
As feeble blows flew.. he smiled.
Run rabbit run.
Too many cannot face truth.
Harmony collapses upon...
harmony.
In the end...
It always will...
It always does.
Harmony collapsing upon harmony. Wait. You don't hear it... wait. The man of dissonance thrown from the theater. So simple for the ones who look, but don't see. He is one. Perhaps he is central. mad man made to run by a central mind running. Made to hovel. Bow before the universal. Laughter. Mocker. Heretic. He doesn't know. He doesn't care. Society will move, sufficient to later languish... so desperately swallow on the mild scraps marking his trail. Forgetting meals sacrificed for little more than pitiful parcels perhaps... that was all they could ever handle.
Harmony collapses upon harmony.
She...
Will see...
Will be...
The...
Rabbit on the run.
The sound builds. The movements form each into each. The blend. The moment. The forever present, melds quickly into the past, leading towards a future unforgiving.
He drove back... drove through. The place where... life erupted. Interrupted for a moment. Every so sacred. Ever so... The place where they didn't make love... love made them. One joined to one, seamless in making the other... that began the world anew. He looked. He saw. So much had changed. So much had stayed the same.
Memory reduced to nothing more than a lying mirror. Cooing soft, cooing slight, seducing in its wait. All he could do was salvage that... which he knew was sweet. Was pure. Even if it was little more, than little more... it was his.
But the tales it told... so sweet... so magnificent. Though he knew he could never go back... never change... anything. But he smiled. It could never be taken. Never be stolen. Purity that shames the very angels can happen... and it did. The laugh, the cry, the defiant fist rose against that which will, which does, remind the problem always was not with his passion, but his lack of control over over them. While the whiplash smile in subversive shadows, reminded that perhaps it was not his passions, but a banal world civilized that cried... that screamed desperate for the passions that erupted from his very existence as it collapsed back toward...
the banal bacinal...
...decadent land, that had traded its soul...
As feeble blows flew.. he smiled.
Run rabbit run.
Too many cannot face truth.
Harmony collapses upon...
harmony.
In the end...
It always will...
It always does.
Sunday, June 3, 2018
Somewhere
Pet Shop Boys - West Side Story Video
I drove by it today
The point
The spot
So sacred
We didn't make love
Love made us
Should I turn
In
And see the play group so similar
'cept saved with a tiny coat
Plasticine
So bright
So safe
From danger
You so willing
So safe
Done well
Despite
The cost
To your soul
So contrite
Words pass
So contrite
While
You expect me
To forget
The rising
Heat
Rising push
Of Chest
Of hips
Demanding
To be touched
Burning
Pressing
To be touched
To be consumed
Raging red full
Wasting
Only for the touch
Rebellions push forward
Cross
The touch
The brush
So light
Magnificent
Slide
So soft
Magnificent
Trace
Drawing kiss
In case Maria
forgot
The gift of Tony
Upon her
Thighs
Welcoming heat
The slip
The burn
Movements
Soft slow
Perfect
Somehow
Someway
Somewhere
Well find a new way of giving
There's Place for us
I drove by it today
The point
The spot
So sacred
We didn't make love
Love made us
Should I turn
In
And see the play group so similar
'cept saved with a tiny coat
Plasticine
So bright
So safe
From danger
You so willing
So safe
Done well
Despite
The cost
To your soul
So contrite
Words pass
So contrite
While
You expect me
To forget
The rising
Heat
Rising push
Of Chest
Of hips
Demanding
To be touched
Burning
Pressing
To be touched
To be consumed
Raging red full
Wasting
Only for the touch
Rebellions push forward
Cross
The touch
The brush
So light
Magnificent
Slide
So soft
Magnificent
Trace
Drawing kiss
In case Maria
forgot
The gift of Tony
Upon her
Thighs
Welcoming heat
The slip
The burn
Movements
Soft slow
Perfect
Somehow
Someway
Somewhere
Well find a new way of giving
There's Place for us
Wednesday, May 23, 2018
Bamboleo
Gipsy Kings: Bamboleo
Sonrisa torcida Detrás de los ojos risueños Ella supo Qué Ella quería
Decir
En el juego
Labios frunciendo Pulsando En la guardia De la luz media Salvación Ofrecido por la luna
Como Ella se mueve Pulsando Anhelo Conducción Calor del edificio Mientras Orejeras plateadas flash Debajo La gloriosa cascada Ondulación del cabello a través de hombros Broncearse Orgulloso Han llevado a cabo El peso El mundo Todavía La risa Todo el rato Ella sonríe Caderas Así que svelt Movimiento Hacia Ese Para cual Ella bailará Seducir Con el movimiento Rythmic Implacable En adoquines Piataza Doblando en las curvas Siempre flexionando En las curvas Suave Lento Confidente Legumbres Empujando hacia Gol De su deseo Mientras la sonrisa Muy torcido Tan perfecto Corsé Sobre descarado Labios Anhelo Congelado Para el toque De vida Balia yo Ellos lloran Sus piernas Caderas Pechos Cara Ojos Riendo Llorar solo Balia yo Balie me Mientras estás en las sombras Ella anhelaba el toque Consumidor Buring Furioso Muévete conmigo Encuentrame Dibuja de mi La quema edificio Calor Anhelo
Balia yo Balie me
Balie me
Crooked smile
Behind laughing eyes
She knew
What
She wanted
To say
In the play
Lips pursing
Pulsing
In the guard
Of the halflight
Salvation
Offered by the moon
As
She moves
Pulsing
Longing
Driving
Building heat
While
Silver ear rings flash
Beneath
The glorious cascade
Hair billowing
across shoulders
Tan
Proud
They have held
The weight
The world
Yet
The laugh
All the while
She smiles
Hips
So svelt
Move
Towards
That
For which
She will dance
Seduce
With the move
Rythmic
Unrelenting
In cobblestones
Piataza
Bending at the curves
Always bending
At the curves
Soft
Slow
Confident
Pulse
Pushing towards
Goal
Of her desire
While the smile
So crooked
So perfect
Stays
Upon brazen
Lips
Longing
Frozen
For the touch
Of life
Balia me
They Cry
Her legs
Hips
Breasts
Face
Eyes
Laughing
Cry only
Balia yo
Balie me
While in the shadows
She longed for the touch
Consuming
Buring
Furious
Move with me
Find me
Draw from me
The burning
Building
Heat
Longing
Balia yo
Balia me
Balia me
Sonrisa torcida Detrás de los ojos risueños Ella supo Qué Ella quería
Decir
En el juego
Labios frunciendo Pulsando En la guardia De la luz media Salvación Ofrecido por la luna
Como Ella se mueve Pulsando Anhelo Conducción Calor del edificio Mientras Orejeras plateadas flash Debajo La gloriosa cascada Ondulación del cabello a través de hombros Broncearse Orgulloso Han llevado a cabo El peso El mundo Todavía La risa Todo el rato Ella sonríe Caderas Así que svelt Movimiento Hacia Ese Para cual Ella bailará Seducir Con el movimiento Rythmic Implacable En adoquines Piataza Doblando en las curvas Siempre flexionando En las curvas Suave Lento Confidente Legumbres Empujando hacia Gol De su deseo Mientras la sonrisa Muy torcido Tan perfecto Corsé Sobre descarado Labios Anhelo Congelado Para el toque De vida Balia yo Ellos lloran Sus piernas Caderas Pechos Cara Ojos Riendo Llorar solo Balia yo Balie me Mientras estás en las sombras Ella anhelaba el toque Consumidor Buring Furioso Muévete conmigo Encuentrame Dibuja de mi La quema edificio Calor Anhelo
Balia yo Balie me
Balie me
Crooked smile
Behind laughing eyes
She knew
What
She wanted
To say
In the play
Lips pursing
Pulsing
In the guard
Of the halflight
Salvation
Offered by the moon
As
She moves
Pulsing
Longing
Driving
Building heat
While
Silver ear rings flash
Beneath
The glorious cascade
Hair billowing
across shoulders
Tan
Proud
They have held
The weight
The world
Yet
The laugh
All the while
She smiles
Hips
So svelt
Move
Towards
That
For which
She will dance
Seduce
With the move
Rythmic
Unrelenting
In cobblestones
Piataza
Bending at the curves
Always bending
At the curves
Soft
Slow
Confident
Pulse
Pushing towards
Goal
Of her desire
While the smile
So crooked
So perfect
Stays
Upon brazen
Lips
Longing
Frozen
For the touch
Of life
Balia me
They Cry
Her legs
Hips
Breasts
Face
Eyes
Laughing
Cry only
Balia yo
Balie me
While in the shadows
She longed for the touch
Consuming
Buring
Furious
Move with me
Find me
Draw from me
The burning
Building
Heat
Longing
Balia yo
Balia me
Balia me
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