“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

 

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

 

 

 

 

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

 

square-modern-clock-graffiti-model-2-craft-397882.jpgWaiting 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

 

tumblr_n2howaAtRL1smyby2o1_500.jpgI 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?

photoedit_1444759925825Confused…