
Monthly Archives: March 2016
“If my poem could push past poetry” – Nina
“if my poem could push past poetry”
If my poems could push past poetry…
Instead : an interstellar traveling vast opening
Then I’d have wide eyes / surprised I defined: time
Defined I…
Imagine an imagination with an application for mass creation
Would it be God? Naw…
Non applicable. Sub supersonic dubbed myracle
Left the spherical earthly worldly ways / my words create worlds lyrical
So where am I at in my meditations?
I’m gone, I left long ago and left this replacement.
“A poem.”
By Nina
Lil rhyme jot. Pen game: – Nina
It’s Nina again…
Pen game; ascend /Saturated, infatuated wit hymns
I do rhymes like crimes locked up n back at it again
N again…
Poetic Trojan horse enter minds like brain surgery man
My own self, my worst enemy trying to murder me: dead
Put n pieces back together in form / trying to weather the storm
I get better but get wetter / cause this rains an infinite pour
Yeah I’m sensitive, sure. / Sent to this world
Till I leave trying to represent a sentiment of the “good”.
Nina
My girl keeps telling me to take off the bandana, nahh son. Naw…
p
Undoubtedly; Love. – Nina
Love undoubtedly
For my lover….
As you read this*
Feel a sweet kiss* < upon your lips : My princess >
Finesse n stress relieving to your chest ❤
Undoubtedly my doubt of love would be senseless!
Profoundly bound to ; ecstatic for such to happen, *”you”*
¥ou are mine n I AM ¥ours it’s true.
My love grows more
and more
and more -8-
Adored n looked up to. Trust you; you implore my passions to grow up to…
More
and more
and more -8-
Thank you
To my love LC
—–Nina
THOMAS MAINARD…2015…
Graffiti or Art or Street Art or Magic or Nah?
All alone… – Graffiti Life “Street Photography” Benched*
Source: All alone
Writing important? Journaling? Being an artist? About me: Nina
I wrote a couple poems this morning; Releasing thoughts is important and bottling emotions is dangerous to say the least. Although writing isn’t a cure perhaps it is a permanent insight to the root, the roots of joy or sorrow. After such release I can move on and forward or upward.
I’m no Shakespeare but you don’t need a degree in writing to make a story; to create a feeling, realization or actualization. Writing is often a reflection of self for me in particular, the changes in my minds chemistry and life’s situational events. I don’t intend to write anything in particular or film or draw or paint. It’s simply…Outside world internalized and vice versa.
The importance of simply applying pen to paper (even when you dont, didn’t…want to) can be a tool for writers block, frustration, etc. “Apply ass to chair,”. My teacher would say* I read a book called : The Artists Way and it spoke of writing or journaling for one hour each morning and to spend at least one day a week on “an artists vacation”; meaning to spend one day a week doing things new or… finding inspiration, joy and possibly profound. Don’t become captive to a routine, life was not meant to be lived like a “to do list”.
I truly love wordpress for the writers I’ve encountered. I love it for its photography and news. For the most part we’re here to create, express, inform and just maybe… change the world, one thought and line at a time. Thanks for following me, I follow anyone following me and am often overwhelmed but I thank each and everyone for contributing to the artistic processes.
Featured image art by: Mear-One
Have an amazing day,
-Nina
Time, it’s time. – Nina
Waiting for time, the right time?
Nighttime daytime playtime…
Clocks with outstretched broken hands
Seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years and infinity
Time gravitates, be careful with time, it’s precious…
Do not be idle for time stops for no one, time doesn’t stop for itself
Time is life and death and the present moment rolled into one
This clock outstretched, feel it’s power to heal and destroy
It’s my time, your time, our time.
It’s time.
Where does pain abide? – Nina
I do not know who where what and why this pain has arrived.
Rambling ranting spoiled brat gallavanting… sighing and deeps breaths eyes watering
with tearful eyes fitted rage of ingrained sorrow for today tomorrow and yesterday
Mindful mind racing placing her hands over her face full of hate disgracing herself a mess of stress,
feeling down n out a useless clueless user with maneuvers; non existent n something missing…
missing her lover n missing life, missing out just pissing away time
more crying and sobbing head throbbing bobbing and weaving hurtful truths
self abuse like a tightened noose trying to break loose, still wondering, from where?
Confused…


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