English: Cathedral cliff edge (Photo credit: Wikipedia)
Come dance with me
My legs are itching
I have this disease
That makes the soul scratch
Let’s step up and stomp down
Feel the mood rise
Let’s savour the groovy moment
Like a delicious foreplay
Don’t let the music stop
Don’t give the man release yet
The legs itch and soul scratch
And we dance to that rhythm
It’s not time to quench this fire
Let us take it higher still
It may add colour to the climax
And the disease may find its cure
Maybe we will dance so well
And lose ourselves to the rhythm
Our souls dying at the climax
As we drown in the melody
Till we tango off the edge of the cliff!
It is encouraging when your work is acknowledged. On one end, there is some degree of “blogstitution” (pardon from those of delicate consciences) where you feel the need to falsely pat fellows on the back for the sake of retaining their loyalties to your blog. On the other end, you get to meet the mind of some writers through their writings and you are -at least -a bit fascinated by what you see. It then goes beyond just their writings for you.
I hope my followers will not give me a false pat for a job poorly done.
My first nomination for this award was by a blogger -Tazein, of http://www.transcendingbordersblog.wordpress.com -who apparently blogs mainly to inspire people, and I daresay I have enjoyed reading about the things she has gone through. The nomination came as yet another award combining the merits of the versatile blogger award and a very inspiring blog award.
Thank you, Tazein.
The second nomination was by Paul of http://poesypluspolemics.com/ , a blogger I came upon recently. Without a thought I’d say he is a man of words. Like I told him, his bibliophilia seems to be paying off well. One of the things I enjoy about his writing is the witty way he goes about sarcasm and satire/satirisation.
Many thanks, Paul.
Here is where I am supposed to state seven things about myself. Of course, these are expected to be different from what I have in my “About” page or other awards. At this rate, I wonder how many more awards before I run out of things to say.
1. I regard myself as no more or less than a human being, product of a Creator, with privileges, abilities and limitations.
2. I love virtually all fields of life’s studies -arts, sciences, legal,…
3. I’d rather be playing chess than watching ANY football match.
4. I love heights, and training myself to love scarier heights. Unfortunately, I am not close to any imposing steep mountains.
5. I COULD sleep 12 hours a day for as long as a holiday could afford me.
6. I am always “impressed” by man’s latest inventions at impiety.
7. I am slightly shocked I could successfully complete this list so quickly.
Err…here is the third part which I am running away from. I am supposed to nominate 15 other blogs. I have to scram because I really have not studied many more other blogs than the ones I am used to. These are already sick of being nominated by me for awards; and I am sick of sickening them. For instance, shardsofdubois.wordpress.com tries all sorts, across different kindda posts, but I am sure she’d de-blog/report me as spam or totally unsubscribe from my blog if I dare mention her again in my awards. There are many other blogs like that. So, I’ll spare us all the “blogache”, nonetheless with profuse apologies for appearing a tad lawless.
Thank you reader for indulging me thus far.
You are released now.
It is in the skies
The ears filled with lies
With tears flooding the eyes
The breath filled with sighs
Darkness hits in the skies
Into men’s souls truth cries
Free yourselves from these ties
While they wander like flies
Stranded up in the skies
A narrow road none plies
I encounter with shaking thighs
Which scales lows and highs
Like birds in the skies
Still the Dark One defies
Locking his captives in sties
But life lights my eyes
As I cruise the skies
Heart (Photo credit: mozzercork)
It hurts and you know it
You tickle my emotions
And my heart is sore
You string my thoughts along
And my soles are worn out
You play on my psyche
And I am tired
Does it give you any pleasure
To hear me admit it
That, even though I regard myself highly
You are far better than I am
You know the limits of my abilities
Intelligence, emotions, will power
Does it give you any pleasure
To hear me admit it
Because it boosts your ego
Or because it crushes mine
Yes, I can’t play along for too long
And since you likely knew
I would come to this breaking point
Why did you start this at all
To convince yourself you really could
Or to convince me you are all that
You taunt me everywhere I turn
I hear songs and my head swims
I see people and I only recognise your face
I know I am having a psychotic breakdown
Or how do I smell your fragrance
Even whilst in the loo
Through the day I dream
Through the night, of course…
Yet I can’t say I am in love with you.