ABOUT U from behind a cold fog , i saw u’r eyes , shining beautiful , implies something that i can never forget , n it makes me stuck , to never be run , from the grip of the eyeball rays , but i continue to let , it becomes something so special , not because u’re beautiful , not because u’re sweet , there’s the simplest thing i believe , is because u’ve a personal , which has two eyes , beautiful shine , magnificent glow , creating a rainbow , any time i can see , can i miss u every time . (at the far end corner of the house , the piano voice sounds soft , minor tones , a touch of sadness formations , creating the atmosphere . i know , who is he that touches the rib to rib piano and rhythm perfectly mastered) i also admire , over the mighty soul , passing through difficult times thatn’t everyone can afford. i remember correctly , how u’ve to think hard , to get a place that is convenient for u, to put u’r body , for u can say : this is a peaceful place , where all the fatigue can be laid , washed the feet of the effort , after thousands of time dried in the sun , towards dusk , reaching its highest point ... n so , really, u no longer need the powder , u don’t need lipstick , moreover dye advance ... u just need any life history that note as u always use the most appropriate makeup . up to colorful world , u tamed with earthy . and u ..... a kind of a very broad horizon , filled by the surging sea, sky which adorned the flock , until i was allowed to play in it , i can put anything u made a means for getting strong u’re. on the other hand ... not much i know , because u also something that isn’t easily reflected in my mind , persistence and ingenuity , difficult to represent the translation of events . possible , people with funny easy to say u’re rock miners compassion faithful to the lonely. morning had long passed , night death was never able terminated, at least for the moment , i can be a little hold . i can take some chances , n imagine u’rself , is an-option for me , i use to be , as a bridge back to the morning , because then , i could easily , discover the secrets of the world , which is always hidden . drive through the winding path without being able to be straightened . as commanded , in my way now ; is a translation of a branch that keeps wind driven . sometimes it makes weariness leaves , wrapped with a secret sky , then need words , to be held as nature . nature that could never be bent . the nature of those terms with the wave . the essence of perfection of a circle of life . that reminds me , how do u teach me about the necessity to survive . wooden bar u put in my shoulder , as it is every time exposes self with a true commitment to personal values : conflict between love and suffering seriousness that must be borne by it. the breast beam also is terror because every time exposes the depth of individual conscience , the basic dilemma between pleasure n true commitment , between power n devotion , between decay n virtue , between the sky n the sky . the wooden bar be cue that could tear the masks of the ego , falsehood n dismantle strongholds of comfort , n break down the fears that secretly hide . as the terror that continues to strip , fact that human beings are born again more divine . empty themselves in order to make room for the divine energy : were transformed into plerosis , helplessness that turned into glory . the hardest thing for me n for light eyes i kept going with the “kuk” i passed each aisle with “kuk” i entered the stalls with “kuk” lying on the roadside hit “kuk” . but path still path at the end of it there be many color i wait for stacking one on one agitated throughout the tussle skipped let the spirits cursing rolling in my head followed by flowers jasmine rose ylang “kanthil – kanthil” rejoice welcome fragrant aroma alone . ahhhh .... i hope , could continue to see u , simply releasing nostalgia , or talk about exile , about the destruction of civilization , rice fields that don’t bring virtue , mountains are tired of carrying his cross, respectively , culture that no longer has the pedigree , art is always spout , science and technology that triggers instability , philosophy that only in the wilds of a stack of books , theology guidelines milestone lose direction , world university began manipulated the capitalists , schools were turned into a rabbit cage , sewer overflow due to forgetting restoration , narrow alleys where the marginal wasted , even politics that hasn’t manners . from there i can enjoy the water flow of thoughts, politeness language n i’ll learn a lot for it . i pleaded , so that i can sit right in front of u , besides trying to steal the sharpness of u’r eyes beam , also expect silence pouring my soul . come on .... come on .... abide in any form , incomprehension n never leaves me . ( sounds more sad piano , scores - scores were created , leading to a disappointing past . narrow aisle , jumps events , meetings with the separation and the arrival of death again clearly illustrated .... piano , stab and paralyze my mind , make - my ribs intersecting ) once again i say; i saw u’r eyes , such as ocean, that accommodate any overflow, with patience, n a wave of affection, hug all gulls, the flap beaches from the mouth of the rivers queuing problems buried at depths held close to peace i saw u’r eyes , is a home, the shade of all complained, let go of exhaustion, release the anxiety, n tame the naughtiness of every “age-era”, walled cubicles sincerity, roofs dangle loyalty, in every corner, framed paintings, as the smile on the attitude, the uprising, in opposition. i saw u’r eyes , where i meditated, where i formed slowly, where i stuck the umbilical cord of life, where i knitted as specificity, thats where ... every second i fulfilled, carved and covered. on the left his seat looking at me n it was you bring perfume creates warmth i’d never felt old u stand then waved sign of an encounter the dimensions that would be i entered don’t forget, light eyes, directed to me. beautiful beautiful beautiful n say: i miss u, mama. pair of eyes rushed left me without looking because she know i don’t like tears . anthology in the struggle multi demensional jesua canisia hamasia’h
Posted on: Fri, 21 Mar 2014 23:28:38 +0000
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