chromaciticious.blogspot.com
Chromaciticious
http://chromaciticious.blogspot.com/2011/05/i-am-so-tall-and-blooming-not.html
But i may try. Where water seeps in. Away from the sun. Away from the sun. And the friends we'll meet. One day we'll climb. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Denise Scicluna's Art Blog! I can keep on. I am so tall and blooming not everlasting but i ma. Awesome Inc. template. Powered by Blogger.
chromaciticious.blogspot.com
Chromaciticious: In You I Trust
http://chromaciticious.blogspot.com/2012/04/in-you-i-trust.html
In You I Trust. When the darkness comes to light. With the ushering of angel's song. I find myself at the foot of my plight. Lost in the place I did belong. Once again I pray. Like a begging fool, before the light of day. Buried in pain-chewed sheets. And clenched with doubt. Again, and again. Control fleeting from my fists. Clenched, so hard, like the hearts I face. O, But the fight is from and not for. The Vanguard of Victory. And hope, with the melody it sings. Rings through the annals of history.
chromaciticious.blogspot.com
Chromaciticious
http://chromaciticious.blogspot.com/2011/05/what-wayward-hurt-is-this-what-terrible.html
What wayward hurt is this,. What terrible fated twist,. What discord of angels song. And Ballad of thieves,. Playing in the night by the waters,. Like minstrels from the King's Quarters. Stung by obscurity's callousness. And drugged blind by the uncaring,. Glances and fatalistic staring,. Uncalled for and dispelled. What rhythm of heart. And what love have I,. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Denise Scicluna's Art Blog! What wayward hurt is this, What terrible fated twi.
chromaciticious.blogspot.com
Chromaciticious: Avaste.
http://chromaciticious.blogspot.com/2011/05/avaste.html
Expose yourself a little more. Let others your soul explore. Grab the brass of the door knob. Turn it quick and hear the lock bob. The creaking and clicking of mechanical devices. Their inward curious-peeking it entices. There you are on a table fresh and bare. Like the midday hen or the dinner hare. Your inner workings cleverly inspected. The pump of your heart and the blood it's directed. Lightly lifting the little lid. Hearing the heavy thoughts of your head. The deepest of your intimate feelings.
chromaciticious.blogspot.com
Chromaciticious: Speaking
http://chromaciticious.blogspot.com/2011/10/speaking.html
To the smaller ideals of larger nations. When the Lord has not forsaken. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Denise Scicluna's Art Blog! You are amazing You are mighty You are creative. Awesome Inc. template. Powered by Blogger.
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Chromaciticious: Worship
http://chromaciticious.blogspot.com/2011/10/worship.html
He's said to have loved. Loved so much the man who was sinning. Out of nothing man came. His wife much the same. So she he would blame. Resolved and unshaken he made a plan. To become flesh, to be a man. Resolved and unshaken he made a plan. To become flesh, to be a man. But there you hung on the cross. Dying and dead, a life, a loss. A Saviour A king. In Glory you rose. Resolved and unshaken he made a plan. To become flesh, to be a man. Resolved and unshaken he made a plan. To become flesh, to be a man.
chromaciticious.blogspot.com
Chromaciticious
http://chromaciticious.blogspot.com/2012/05/i-once-found-man-looking-into-well-lost.html
I once found a man looking into a well,. Lost in the depth of the waters trapped. I once found a child playing by a well,. Looking in and out and running around. The man looked back so hard and for so long that he fell. He delved further and further through more and more water. And he lost control of all of his senses, from balance to sight,. To hearing and touch, and time and smell. The child did no such thing,. All the child did was play, and watch the water fill the well. Denise Scicluna's Art Blog!
chromaciticious.blogspot.com
Chromaciticious: The Mercy of Chase
http://chromaciticious.blogspot.com/2011/10/mercy-of-chase.html
The Mercy of Chase. The dire response of the rabid dog. The tired retreat of the school girl. Matted fur chasing bobbing hair,. Pounding iron tendons race to ensnare,. Small rubber soles can carry one but not fast enough,. Before teeth a life to snuff. Cold blood rushing through veins. Dress now covered in mud stains. A cold sweat laces each lung. At the sound of its lapping tongue. O greyhound major, the neighbourhood terror,. Wherefore lay your master's hand? What punishment should you withstand,.
chromaciticious.blogspot.com
Chromaciticious: He of Saving
http://chromaciticious.blogspot.com/2011/05/he-of-saving.html
A chest like mine. With ripples of flesh and blood,. Clutched 'tween it's awkward matter. Are deep-seated hates that none do flatter. This heart-laden burden is none too rare,. This sorrow-maiden voyage does little to care. For brother and sister. It does not discriminate. It does not limit itself. In growth or spate. Consuming till I myself am consumed. Presuming till I myself am presumed. Lost, forgotten or doomed. But You did not listen. You did not care. You did not fear. And the monster a mere pup.
chromaciticious.blogspot.com
Chromaciticious: Steps
http://chromaciticious.blogspot.com/2011/10/steps.html
The steps of a far-away church,. I feel my stomach in a lurch,. Your eyes leveled my nerve. Your back nestled in my chest. My hand resting over a curve. My soul at peace, at rest. Breaths are shallow and stares are deep. Coldness slowly begins to seep. Eyelids glowing to open and close. As I look from your head, down your nose. We start to be tempted by the night to sleep. It's at that time that we start to dose. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). Denise Scicluna's Art Blog! The Mercy of Chase.
