CreativitysCreation's Blog

February 5, 2011, 8:25 am
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If I were a souljah I’d be packin heat nonstop,
Crosses for guns in my back pocket.
Electricity running through me every day and night.
You’re surprised? I surprise myself. I’m static. I shock it.

I sock it but that doesn’t mean that I’ve got cold feet.
It means I’ve been runnin in the snow barefoot.
Because I’m a combination of the abominable Bigfoot:
I’m everywhere at all times, but nobody can see me or knows if I even exist.
Yet I am Big.

February 5, 2011, 8:21 am
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Like a mine in a field you decide when you want to explode, except you don’t even know when you’re going to blow up.
But something was planted a long time ago that you don’t want to let loose:
A secret path through and a map of your entire family.

But you’re out there waiting for the next person who steps on you or trips your wire.

Good luck out there, kid.

February 5, 2011, 8:18 am
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If I fell in love with a pretty ballerina I’d take her out to eat.
First, I’d light the candles, and then I’d pull her seat.
I’d treat her as a queen, and a pretty one at that,
All, of course, to please her dearly, and then we’d begin our chat.

We’d talk and talk of future times, of soon-to-be romances,
Of places she had been and gone, and who had offered dances.
If I, for one, could be another, how happy I would be
To be mesmerized by the fluttering fly of the frilly pink.

After our dreams we awoke and had tea, for we had overslept.
But she, Queen Punctuality, was late and at once wept.
Here, here, oh, Queen, you’re still a dancing bird,
A flamingo frolicking in fair form, but she said, “How absurd!”

No matter how hard I tried, the pretty ballerina persisted.
No matter how hard she tried, her spirits would not be lifted.
From then and now forevermore the Queen still sulks away,
Now in her castle in a far away land, perhaps she’ll come again some day.

February 5, 2011, 8:04 am
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I’ve been on this Zombies and Hollies kick over the past week and a half.
If you listen they’ve got something we don’t now.
Maybe it’s something in the hand claps or finger snaps
As they move on stage before they take the bow

Or put their hearts into every note they sing
As they perform for the fans who scream out their lungs.
Maybe they just did it for the fun instead of the bling.
Chords and melodies, people, together they were all strung.

February 5, 2011, 8:00 am
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It’s too late. She’s gone too far. She’s lost the sun.
She’s come undone.
But she was undone from the beginning.
She’s lost too much while thinking she’s winning.
She’s come undone.
She drew back, pulled her shades up tight.
Locked the door to her heart
And said goodnight.
Before she could ask she told him no
Without any words, but a loaded gun.
She’s come undone.

February 5, 2011, 7:56 am
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In today’s episode of Love and Life: Independence and Logic pull their last straws with Insecurity and Emotion. Stay tuned to find out how it…

January 29, 2011, 4:42 am
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I don’t mean to revisit, but until someone else takes my breath away you’re it.

January 20, 2011, 6:36 am
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What if we lit it up every single time?
Like a state of mind, set the brain on fire.
We could agree to conspire the plot:
What all those others have that we want to get got.
Flames are hot, though, especially when it burns
Turn it all to ashes and put them in an urn.
Then we’ll take them to the mountains and the peaks,
Cold fire and rain then come off the tongue of those who speak
Spreading to all of those who take the time to listen
To the thing that got him where he’s at now: the vision.

January 20, 2011, 6:26 am
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Muh lady, muh lady,
To keep you waiting I’d think not.
Respond to you I would!
We were in the dark; twas a shot.

Attend with me now,
Remember and reminisce
All of the things that are so new
But that I’ve newly come to miss.

Of course, it was unintentional:
Those feelings at first sight.
Fresh flowers and tied bows
Masked by the night,

All drawn and placed
With perfection and care.
Hopeful laughter and smiles
Floated before us in the air.

Now that time’s hands have moved
And my hair has grown grey
I look for you
But you’re looking the other way.

I’ve come to think,
And believe it soon I will,
That my emotions, motions and notions
Have now become stagnant and still.

You even know this:
That I am a man of commerce at best
And with respects above all others
You’d someday display my crest

Upon your chest
Until the day we die.
Til’ death do us part,
Muh lady, please do not cry.

For we are fortunate enough
To now have time on our side.
Your ship is still tied at the port;
Please wave farewell or ride.

For better, for worse,
For yes, no or maybe,
Remember, always,
That you’ll forever be muh lady.

January 20, 2011, 6:06 am
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For your pleasing I do aim.
All the fame and the glory, you can have it,
And if you want it, take it.
But make it, and make me,
Both what’s inside and what others see,
Pleasing to you
From your terrestrial point of view.