Sunday, July 27, 2014

Rip It Up

Rip it up
tear it up
throw it out
all shredded up

you know what was in her eyes
was only you in disguise

your idea of love was concealed
beneath the shattered "wasn't real"

So in light
it's not a fair deal
reciprocity, none
lost is the zeal ...

good

flip it up
take it up
face it now
wipe off the make up

you know what you wanna do's
something original
and you

so answer to no one who
doesn't deserve your heart
so true

It's time to say:

Psshhh

 to

one who doesn't appreciate
one who thinks you're throwing bait
one who understands not
your lonely state

whilst they mix the cat
with the snake ...

one who won't see
with empathy true
unconditional, like a saint
or an angel, too

don't rely on others
to be what you do
for once can you give credit
where it may be due ?

So ...

rip it up
shred it up
tear it up
wipe off the make up

wear only paint if it's you
sparkle only in your shoes ...

be no more ashamed to express
in all of what only you want to dress

burn the pieces
of the torn up picture
pick the nettle
and make a tincture

of nettle and tears
be rid of other souls
shallow and unknowingly
cheap like fools gold

go for the gold
that is the real gold
pan it from the river
with a story to be told

Rip it up
shred it up
tear it up
wipe off the make up

blown up on a pedestal
in your head
but that image
is now dead
for you know
it was overfed ...

wounded heart shall not bring demise
whence with only You
It Shall Rise

glass guard up
touch no more
rise while holding
your true core

rip it up
tear it up
throw it out
all shredded up

then ignite light with a match
Rise like a phoenix
above and detached

Suncity fly
be on your way
above those who don't
deserve you anyway

The wounded womb heals with the moon
'til your reflections' clear

Soon ...

Soon ...

....

fin.


-N.M. Rose Guedes

Friday, July 25, 2014

Melodic Horizon

Oh, melodic horizon
I finally see you there
you're like a blissful, purple dusk
impending moonlight
in the air
and as my hair
flows down my back
I'm happy in this night
like a cat
purring and dancing on the fence
for my heart is
swollen, tense
with so much excitement
it's hard not to scream
"it's time to fly now
it's time to redeem"
for all the blood and sweat there lain
must make beauty of anguished pain
tis the flower wilted, ready to steep
despite the shadows' creep and the rainbows' sleep
so let the hot water pour in vain
'cause she has now returned again
I missed her so much
and she be
from the heavens of the fallen tree
betting on a miracle
for this pitch three
I still hold a magical
prayer to be free
like a moth to the flame
of a candle on the watery
banks, alongside barricades
there's hope to win the lottery
of all that represents The Dream
and so the Yin comes
like a moonbeam
Be with me
and breathe with me
I want only to fly
So free ...

-N.M. Rose Guedes



Saturday, July 5, 2014

Sweet Star

star
sweet star
upon your head
you're gone now
oh so soon
you were dead
how did I know
why did I dread
that little star
would soon be far
you used to escape
but came when I called your name
now you wear your little cape
as you fly of late
it isn't fair
how could fate dare
to hurt so bad
to be so mad
it was so cursed
to be the worst
i wish i could stop it
i had you in my pocket
just yesterday
in this purse
which is my heart
and now we're far apart
and you're so far away
i couldn't even say goodbye
i wanted you to fly away
and i could not pay
and i would not have you pay
to have it my way
so all i could do, was pray
it was the least i could do
whence i feel i failed you
and at 8 o-clock
something brushed against my sweater
it wasn't just the weather
i think it was you
i feel you're happy now
i hope that it's true ...


RIP Cosmo G.
you will always be loved, and your short life grieved.
love from:
your short lived, benevolent stepmom
-N.M. Rose Guedes



Broom, Vroom!

woe is the withered nerd-rebel
practicing the rain
of all the tears
of riddles and fears
waxing and waning
in pain
and shards of sunshine rays
in theories
drizzling floodlights
moving dreary
spidey detective, profiles guise
call it both naive and wise
angry dexter girl in vain
skipping down the hidden lane
to underestimate
is as bad as
to hate
just like fish bait
is the colour of fate
there her toes do wade
and like a blade
so does the raid
again in meddling
avon peddling
whilst allergic to perfume
like sweet berries of doom
they grow around, and loom
'til she grabs a broom
up up away
per ricochet ...
Vroom!

-N.M. Rose Guedes