~Dat`BlaQPhoeniX~

{WOULD U MIND?}

WOULD YOU MIND IF I CARRESSED THE CORRIDORS OF YOUR MIND? LET MY SENSITIVITY PLAY SENSUAL OVERTURE, LOVER*S TUNES OF ROMANCE, AND THE BALLADS TO WHICH HEARTS DANCE,
ALL WITHIN THESE HALLWAYS OF HEAVEN, THINE MIND.
WOULD YOU CARE IF I GENTLY PERSUAVE YOUR MENTAL WITH CANDLELIT INTIMACIES OF MY HEART'S SENTIMENTAL, ONLY LOCALITY BEING OUR MINIMAL YET CURRENT PHYSICAL TECHNICALITY,
A MERE NEGATIVE FACTOR, FOR LOVE IS THE ULTIMATE BENEFACTOR?
WOULD YOU MIND-- MY-INE DESIGNED MENDERINGS, VISIONS BACKED BY VISIONS, ILLUSIONARY RENDERINGS OF WHAT I SEE, PRIVY TO ME, GIVEN VIA LOVE'S INTELLECT,
RELEASED FROM REGIONS OF MY-INE HEART'S VAULT DEEP THE RECESSES OF ME.
CAN I DISPLAY ALL THAT I SAY, PROVISION THAT MY VISIONS BECOME PRESENT, TANGIBLE & WARM TO THE TOUCH.
MANIFESTATION OF REALISTIC BECOMING REALITY INTO THIS REALM OF THEE, COMPANY OF WE? WOULD YOU MIND IF I TOUCH YOUR BODY,
VIA YOUR MIND, AWAKENING NERVE-ENDINGS, CREATIONS BROUGHT INTO BEING LIEU THIS VERBIAGE MASSAGE OF MINE?
CAN I FIND, THOROUGHLY EXPLORING YOUR PERSON,
THE ONE PLACE FOR WHICH MY HEART WAS DESIGNED, A SAFE-HAVEN FROM CARELESS TAMPERINGS OF WICKED MINDS, WITH ICEY THOUGHTS WHICH EMOTIONALLY BREAK, THUS MY HEART BE WROUGHT?
WOULD U MY-INE?

BLAQPHOENIX


{Emotional Tsunami}


Deeper than any ocean,
more expansive then infinite sea,
I ride daily upon cresting tsunamis,
but miniscule spray of Herculean waves,
freely spilled forth from the depths of my person
constantly replenished wells of emotion.
Be it neigh decision nor desire,
my rank has turned dire,
I surface unfaithfully
for one last time,
for on my next
descent I
shall
drown
the
corridors
of
my
own
emotional
mind.

BlaQPhoeniX




-----------------------------------------------


~{Do You?}~



Am I figment of imagination?
Just a gestation in relation
To a memory long forgotten.
Or do I exist?

Does the essence of my being tip-top across your mind,
Regardless the date and time?
Does hesitation become revelation?
When you pass the phone?
Vague memories of past times,
When "I wonder if he is home"
Crossed your mind every heartbeat of time?

Did the countless times,
Summarization of one another's poetic rhyme,
Simply dissipate the corridors of cortex,
Replaced by subjects of alternate context?
Such causes as these
Birth questions without answers,
Within me.

Am I last?
Next in line,
Or the past being revisited time after time?
Do reflections of me come and go
Carelessly flung to wind,
Familiar the treatment rubbish to bin?

Though I speak times of now,
Not then,
Shouldnt I voice language of future tense?
For the past has happened,
Now we should ask,
Does the present extend to past,
And for us is there a future,
If I might ask?

Such dumb questions to answer,
An awfully doughty task.
However, it is imperative they are asked,
For I have to know,
Do you think of me?
Or have I become but as textbook history,
Only remnants floating around
The cortex of thee?


BlaQPhoeniX

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