| |
 |
| |
| Tuesday, October 07, 2008 |
| "My Sexy Gums" Song Lots Of Fun! |
It's a little fun song I wrote -- you can play it on your guitar and entertain your friends with, especially at our age and time, when 15 year old girls are rushing to become the sexy divas that their dolls are; and in our modern day of artificiality and Botox-for-all.
Some people have sexy chest, now, Some sexy buns, Some show off in their black dress, now, ...But, I have sexy gums. Yeah, yeah. I have sexy gums!
They always call me for dinner, Call me for lunch, My sexy gums are a killer, Other girls don't look like much. Yeah, yeah, They don't look like much.
Some people brag with their frame now, Flattest of tums, But I'll have none of their game, now, Cause I have sexy gums. Yeah, yeah. I have sexy gums!
What they ve've got flashing will clock out, Its not to stay. My sexy gums are are a knockout, At the end of the day. Yeah, yeah, At the end of the day.
Some people sway you with high brow, Wrinkle-free chums, But I don't have to be shy, now With my super cute gums. Yeah, yeah, With my sexy gums!Labels: Poems in my head |
| posted by Angel @ 12:13 AM
|
|
|
|
| Tuesday, January 29, 2008 |
| Poems in my Head! |
I've got them, and I bet you do too! Here's a song I wrote.......
1. I am a fresh air, I am your surprise. I burn up in this music until a sunrise.
I am left hungry I am left on fire, Silence is twirling me around. Silence preparing, scheming, raising higher and higher, Ready to make a sound.
2.Fluttering like the flames, like a long bridal gown, I am left to the winds to cool me down.
And to the rains to mess up my unruly hair, Longing for more, wanting too much, I am a meltdown without rules or care, Anticipating your invisible touch.
3.I am the earth, darker then the iris of your eye, With the headspinning speed revolving by.
I am dancing on the edge of the highscraper, Fallen off the edge, way past the edge I fly, I am not afraid...like a scribble defying its paper - In excitement, I forget, where's the ground and where's the sky.
4.Beautiful and sharp, like a noble metal, I swing with the force ever so gentle.
Landing somewhere between the fifth and sixth dimensions, In an array of colours spashing all around, Swimming in heavenly light rays, filled with good intentions, I channel my love to this rhythmic sound.
5.I am the dance, the rhythm - the pulse that you feel, I am a fantasy brought to life too real.
I knock in your heart, like a dream I wake you, Playing with billions of platelets in your blood, In my palm I hold you, I make you, I break you, I am the Devil, and I am the God...
Ref: The music of Love, This is, The Music of Love, Whenever I bleed, I need, I need, The Power of Love.Labels: Poems in my head |
| posted by Angel @ 10:19 PM
|
|
|
|
| Monday, September 18, 2006 |
| Color me pretty... |
 As most of us women, I am a sucker for pretty words. Without them, there's no way to justify it all. Our sinful living. Our greed. I want to live a spiritual life, but am I on a path to righeousness yet? I don't know. People like to have more money. Because...they like to have more freedom. Money is bad allright. But without freedom, how can we be spiritual? Without freedom, there's more sin, there's no beliefs of your own, there's no will. For some, spirituality is yoga, listening to Mozart, or charity. To me, it's art! And theater. And the pretty words...
So here I go...another victim, fallen into a pit of poetry. 1.Life isn't us people just standing in line And waiting for some happiness; Life isn't a fabric of dreams pouring out On naked free willed consciousness.
2.Life isn't a game where you're planning out To concur or concurred you'd be; Life isn't a butterfly flying to light... Or fire to meet destiny!
3.Life isn't a boat with a captain that sails Through ocean's most devious storms; Life isn't a theater stage, where a man's An actor that acts and performs.
4.Life isn't a jungle with animals wild Who seek for a pray on their trails; Life isn't an apple tree that only thrives, If weather is warm and it rains...
5.Life isn't a shopping spree neither, where sales Are hurried decisions to make. Life isn't a journey in strange city, where Each sudden turn is yours to take.
6.Life isn't a fortune wheel, spinning a fate In powerful, wind driven hands; Life isn't a place where history rules With sacrifice-making demands.
7.Nor life is a court with a quick thinking judge, For everything goes by the book; And no, it is not superstitions and signs, That put every step on a hook.
8.But life is fantastic mosaic of glass, With speckles that form stories plot, With myriads of hues, life is Muse, life is Love, A twister of all that it's not.
OK, the idea for this poetry is a dream that I had when I was really little. I dreamt that as I was walking down the street, all I saw was lines and lines of people, and I was perplexed about what were they waiting for, why these lines were so long, and after some more wondering, I realized that they were "happiness" lines. Now I think because I was little, that was my subconscious understanding, that our meaning in life is in finding some great happiness...Labels: Poems in my head |
| posted by Angel @ 12:00 PM
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
|
|