Rain mozzies suck

Raindrops keep falling on my head.
Means mozzies will fly in when I'll be lying on my bed.
Sucking blood off every inch of my skin,
beware fat bugs from mosquitoes lean.

A nice blend

Throw in a pinch of love
A blast of air
Mix them together
Sizzling on a frying pan.

Add some salt and pepper
Add some hearts' desire
A bit of time, a bit of space,
And a whole pot full of haste.

Slowly and tenderly,
stroke the fire burning gently,
Use the wood to blow a little wind
Fan the flame from within

Some lust or secret seduction,
like melting chocolate over a hot furnace,
Some dreams or lofty aspiration
like glass roasting on an open fire.

The opening of a can
its bubbles of fizz floating upwards
like joy in a symphony
the emotions in its quivers
Though it does not waver.

A nice blend it is.
A nice band we are.
A nice blended band we'll be.

where has my muse gone.

What if your heart is with one
and your mind with another

What if the world ended now
and you dug through the rubble
and found a book
and you were told to bring it West.

But the world is round.
After some traveling, going West brings you back to where you started.
Then, would you gripe and bitch?
Or sit down and reflect upon experiences learned?

There's a man in the mirror.
But a mirror like no other.
For within are dozens of doors.
Some lead to calming streams with children playing pebbles
Others lead to raging storms and howling winds.

Some open to new frontiers
Others to impending doom.
And some to history.

One or two may lead to red roses
or a braying pony.
One or two might lead to a skeleton in the closet
Or open a can of worms.

And, what happens then?
To see, and be reminded of the past.
To be dismissed within the blink of an eye
But dismissed as what?
History; a chapter closed?
Or as a joke and to laugh about it and a new chapter begins?

I could have sworn I knew you.
And for a time we did too.
Yet there's a time to know, and a time to forget.

I can't forget you.
Each and every of you.
'Cause you forge and mould.
And I'll never let you go.

my love.

This chunk of brass
sound that resonates from within
cold and unfeeling it starts off
staring at me with such ferocity in its eyes
till we sit down
and have some time together
and over time we get to understand
each other
and over time we get to appreciate
one another

But. when you go, you leave a void within me
and yet it's good to be back with you
though i wonder for how long.

my love.

i've lost my muse

has anybody seen my muse
it's missing, so i deduce
it vanished over time
without no reason, without no rhyme

Short Story Part 1

Smoothing his coat, he strode into the concert hall, exuding elegance and poise. To the public eye, he appeared well-mannered and full of grace. Those in his inner circle, only on condition of anonymity, speak of his haughtiness and narcissistic pride.

With a swift nod to the usher, he made his way to his seat, sat down and observed those seated near him. While he appeared calm and composed, his mind reeled at the total lack of adhering to dress codes for art performances.

"These young kids in their shirts and berms and flip-flops! Do they think they're going to the beach?", he scorned inwardly. "And that male in his early twenties seated in the corner! Surely it doesn't take a lot of effort to style his hair or at the very least comb it to a certain degree. And that girl seated three seats on the left! That plunging neckline coupled with that skirt way above the knee. Was that what she wore a couple of years back, or perhaps a hand-me-down!", he muttered to himself.

"Such a disgrace to society and utterly disrespectful to the artistes. Don't they know how to dress better? Perhaps the arts management should educate the youths on the social etiquette. After all," he thought to himself, "it was only through his donation of a million dollars that this concert hall still remained standing!"

The bell chimed thrice, the lights dimmed, and the audience quickly settled down; loud chatter dwindling to hushed whispers and then to pure blissful silence save for the occasional stifled cough or clearing of the throat.

Digital Notepad / Graphics Tablet

You're diligently jotting down notes for your math class using your tablet / laptop / ipad when the teacher draws out a sphere on the whiteboard. Oh no! Panic! Quick! Start up Photoshop to draw it out. Or maybe I should just use custom shape in Microsoft Word. Or maybe just use Paint. Oh no! The teacher erased the object and all surrounding formulas already!

With the Cyberpad by Adesso, you don't need to worry about that anymore. It's a digital notepad and graphics tablet, and handwritten notes or diagrams can be synced to your computer.

So, those cartoons you drew out of boredom in class can be quickly uploaded to your blog in the blink of an eye instead of the usual scan-and-upload method.

It'll cost you around $200. Deduct the time shaved from scanning and uploading or those frenzied moments, and it becomes priceless!


http://www.adesso.us/index.php/en/home/tablets/graphics-tablet/154-cyberpad-a4