Express yourself.

Creativity is the soul. The expression of the soul is unique to each. Creativity is that expression. Finding one's own creativity is akin to acheieving spiritual liberation. This is what creativity means to me. Whether it be through prose, poetry, creative writing, photography, sport, dancing or even just the crazy way I interact with people, it is a part of my all encompassing creativity. It is the rich texture of life

Friday, July 30, 2010

Hot Stuff

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Peace means love
Nappy Head

Monday, July 26, 2010

they do falter

oh wow. there are these moments when the heart does falter. often I go swinging, weeping and then singing. introspective pains I do bear. never for too long. these are moments. they flit and flutter. iconic derivatives of passion. mmm. a pity there is no candy in my soul. I would lick the candy off my heart. I would chew the toffee blissfully. instead, I have a bucket in my chest. a bucket that overflows constantly. droplets, that run down the fibres of a discordant central nervous system, seem to be a complex mastery of intensity. mmm. how this sway of the fickle heart becomes a preposterous soothing fray. watch as I tumble, fall, slip, jump - live. I live. no matter the bargain, I live. crawling, sniveling, walking, running, jumping me. look I have snot in the nose. I love, lust - live. honest hearts bear the strength of legions, but they do falter. they are honest. they must. oh wow. there are those moments that pass. contained in these moments, the emptying of bottomless buckets as the heart falters. the heart does falter.

Peace means love. 
Nappy head

Wednesday, July 21, 2010

Techniques in Methodology, Prey to Technology

scribble jam artist
beating rhythms into keypads
my future 
your future

We hold fast to sentiments
We save face
and face personified repercussions
we save face
save for the face we must hide
as we bend
and are poisoned by the ejaculations
of filthy circuitry and static charges

Silly ostriches with disproportionate brains
tuck our heads in the grainy sands of truth
Yet, how true is death

We cannot deny progress
and framing perspectives
Rest in peace

May your text messaging
slay my metaphors.

Peace means love
Nappy Head

Thursday, July 15, 2010

I can only be sure

My love is fucking ambiguous.

Peace means love.
Nappy head

Thursday, July 8, 2010

Twobop Rocks

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Peace means love
Nappy Head

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

I Am Here

I  am naive I guess. I am naive and hopeful. That's why I wear my heart in my sleeve. I enjoy being strong, I enjoy being vulnerable too. I enjoy the realness that is my experience. Where most fall shy of weakness, I dust away the boundaries. Where most place bricks and cement them with the pain of their experiences, I let volumes of expression ride the off-shoots of tempestuous jet streams... I do not see them leave, but I feel them vanish - no. I feel them spread. Weaker they grow as their bonds break. Still, they go. Tinier they feel. The lumps in my chest grow ever increasingly. My experience of truth remains raw. Lighter I get. Weightless yet intact, my hallowed home remains. The solace of my  reflection carries me upward. How revealing this text has become. My innermost -lies on a platter for the scavengers of deceit and twisted amusement. Yet cry I cannot, love I must. Seek inside the eternal I do. My soul determines the soul determinant of what I seek. My ever eternal. I shall continue to love. My soul shall continue cry out with determination. Eventually the tears and tears that shall wrinkle and lacerate my experience, shall determine my truth. I shall be free. But until then may I remain hopeful. May I remain naive. My heart is here, coloured red, dripping at the elbows. 

© All rights reserved.

Peace means love
Nappy Head