"You are what you say you are: nothing more, nothing less."
-FMG
Monday, October 31, 2011
Monday, October 31, 2011
"When one is in the darkness for too long, it will be difficult for them to bear the light."
-FMG
-FMG
Monday, October 31, 2011
"Ballpoint Pen"
Your mouth constantly releases a story.
You sing the world a song.
You lecture me with innovative philosophies.
You strengthen my hand.
However, you never tire, and your heart forever pumps the blood of meaningful and symbolic script.
You convey secrets in the most secretive manner.
Your tongue is powerful and continuously erupts with stamina.
Your mind is a flowing stream of ideology.
Your gaze is exhilarating and stimulating.
The world is your shadow.
You are an egg, an egg of new life.
You teach me.
You inspire me.
You encourage my every delight.
The sun cannot dim your eyes, for you have given the sun its shine.
You tackle paper with masterpieces of music and art.
I comfort you with the warmth of my hand, everyday, whispering to you my thoughts.
I am pleased with your effort to respond to my whispers, building my pride and fame.
You are forever beside me, prepared to dance in the whirlwinds of creativity and liveliness.
You are forever my ally, who understands my self, and dances with me in the ballroom of extraordinary measures.
-FMG
Monday, October 31, 2011
“The Feelings of the Unseen”
Silent, still, jaded as I remain upon a tilted surface.
Only gravity weighing and preventing me from exercising my dreams.
Saddened as fatigue pads my tears.
Alone.
Hardened and arctic as the winter chill blows in my face, ignoring my presence.
Witnessing grand life slicing the clouds that rest comfortably in the warm sky.
Spring grass tickling my exoskeleton, teasing my incapability to avenge my aggravation.
Summer’s humid breath breathing upon and drying the invisible tears that ooze from the
imperceptible sockets of my eyes.
Unseen.
Unheard of, and no compassion shown for me by whatever lives.
The whirlwinds of a storm whipping my backside that even I have not yet seen.
Lightning ignoring my fright as it hollers in the night that is my life’s curtain.
The brisk air chilling my core.
Valueless.
Worthless and a disadvantage to this worlds fashion.
The surreptitious threats of the thunder occur to me to be the pressure of Earth being
released.
The pinholes in the curtain of night shine like diamonds, but are only adored by me, for
they are the only true light within my heart.
Loneliness clouds my mind, however, for during each day the thought of value
continuously forces my mind to throb.
Unaware.
I am unaware of the everyday wonders of this world, for it is only I who cannot select
opportunities that please me.
I may never know the gems of this world.
I may never know what lies on the other side of this motionless hill.
I may never see enough or be seen.
I may never awe upon what deserves such recognition.
I am a colorless gem, a rock that is deaf, dumb, and blind, but uses feel to hear, speak, and see what I have in my power to, but everything, even the sky that is my roof, knows me to be only what I am.
A rock.
-FMG
Monday, October 31, 2011
To achieve is obtaining the certificate of pride in one’s ambitions.
To succeed is accomplishing one’s aspirations.
To flourish is reaching the peak of one’s individual mountain.
To persevere is enduring and prevailing over obstacles.
To grow is to develop honor from optimism.
To accomplish is to successfully complete all of one’s personal adventures.
To understand is to mature and to gain knowledge.
To be artistic is possessing the confidence in one’s talents, for art defines our world.
Characteristics like these flock stunning stones together, forming a mosaic of our true selves.
Such mosaics are scriptures of our benevolence and tales of our world’s verity.
In the prospect, our strength will not be measured by a scale of foolish ranks but, instead, noticed for the knowledge that we gained and how well we used it.
The essence of our youth must forever remain within our hearts, for if it is lost to age, then we will all become robots of a jaded world.
We are the future of the world.
Let us continue on our noble path toward a promising horizon.
-FMG
Monday, October 31, 2011
“Innocence”
My narrow backside rests upon the brisk surface of ice.
A cool rain trickling about my jowl.
Thoughts wandering into a dimension of fantasy.
My tribulations decimated by the peace released from the mellow milieu.
My arms spread broadly, welcoming an embrace by the goddess of winter.
My canopy, the ceiling of the White Queen’s castle.
The clouds absorbed by the slender sky, a sky that is the eye of this world’s ballroom of extraordinary measures.
The weightless air raising my body into the faint yet noticeable light of the imperceptible sun.
The draperies of my heart swaying in the winds that whisper my mind a most significant story.
My face gently enveloped by a translucent sheet of pure water sent by God as a true gift.
Only God possessing the aptitude to understand my delights.
My willingness to dance in the whirlwind of flowers in the garden of Eden.
Preserving the structure of my bodily depression in the chilling ice.
Dangling from what in my mind is the most ostentatious stem of a beautiful flower.
The divine power of Earth developing within me and bringing me to a stand upon my two feet.
Reborn with the closest connection to Heaven and Earth, and upon the two feet given to me by God.
I shall walk with them, I shall walk with them, I shall walk with them, upon the staircase with the grace of innocence.
-FMG
-FMG
Monday, October 31, 2011
"Me, My Mind, and I"
In the shadows of a pitiful night,
In the darkness of the faintest light,
In the glare of God's flambeaux,
I chatted with my mind as the trees swayed to and fro.
As craziness sat beside us, tickling our throats with its scrawny fingers,
We became unassailable, unconquerable, and a fiend to the night that surreptitiously lingered.
While the wind whispered into our reddened ears,
My mind and I remained rather near.
We laughed, we danced, and we joined in the chorus of the winds.
We haunted the monsters that remained foolishly hid.
We roared, we made gestures, and we vexed the superiority of the storm.
We howled at the moon and exceeded the boundaries of the norm.
The night was a playground of insanity’s life.
We pounded on our drums and boasted with might.
We are extraordinary in our manner and are one of a kind.
We are together a beautiful mind.
-FMG
-FMG
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Saturday, October 15, 2011
“From Home I Come”
Carried by the hushed wind that spirals through the sands of sin.
Spiraling, spiraling, spiraling.
And in that cloud of dust comes I, a flambeau, crackling with whispers of the tales I dare know.
The trust that I expect,
The malice that I detect,
The wisdom that I respect,
From the hearts of my elders I am from.
From her captivating berth of awareness.
The milk of happiness as she bestowed.
Upon us all, with purpose of expansion of her kind heart.
Swallowed by the warm sky.
Whipped by the sly.
Forced to cry.
From there I come.
From the silence of a nook.
My nose, skinning the chest of a book.
Surreptitiously plastered with a delicate mold of knowledge.
Refreshed by the waters of its mystical seas.
Toil, toil, toil, but never learn.
The book, an escape.
From there I come.
From atop the torch of Liberty.
Her eyes congested with sensitivity.
Overlooking Her country.
Nothing causes Her more glee than the history that She sagely guards with pride.
My eyes are Hers, intimidating the offenders of our homeland.
Her metallic draperies swaying in the breeze of triumph.
The greatest earthquake rattles Her ground, but dare not She think to fall.
I thrust my arm upward, empowering Hers to proceed in supporting the weight of our freedom.
Her heart is the sun.
Its rays are the spears of Her crown, generating our every breath.
From Her patriotism I was born.
From the meadow.
My hands rummaging through the fertile soil of the Earth.
The scent of pollen boiling in my nostrils.
My sneeze, splattering the Monarch with a swift caress of weightless air.
From the élan of nature I come.
Suppressed by Mother’s arms.
It is winter, the season when her heart pronounces its tenderness by heating my quivering hands.
The goddess of the chill dancing in her ballroom of white glory.
A reunion of Earth and snow, reveling in the crystal lattice of the frost.
I am home.
From home I come.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
"Comfort is a Lightning Storm at Bedtime"
The lids of my eyes,
Still,
Sideways,
Staring,
As those in a portrait of the beautiful woman.
Her lips pursed with the pride of her suave elegance.
Her face rattled by the strike engendered by the angels in Heaven,
Bowling with spheres of thunder.
Her neck is centered by the precise angles of her delicate clavicles.
Those eyes,
They capture the stories of her land's history.
Her heart is secured by the meandering vines of her gown.
It is her waist that sways in the periodical elucidation of her structure that oozes Victorian
perfumes.
The emphasis of the storm is outlined in the elliptical sky.
Phantasmagoric images congregate into a tableau of Hates apparitions.
I rest.
Comforted,
By the lightening storm that is reflected in her eyes at bedtime.
By the lightening storm that is reflected in her eyes at bedtime.
Friday, October 14, 2011
Friday, October 14, 2011
"When trapped by the lingering darkness, try not only to search for light, but rather illuminate the environment with the light that naturally rests within yourself."
-Francesca
-Francesca
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Friday, October 7, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
Wednesday, October 5, 2011
When you listen to my words, I hope that they can release the pressure of your stance. Let them rattle you with a gentle breeze, whispers of the inner conscience. Become unbalanced, and trust their arms to catch you in fall. Do not rise against them, for what is the purpose? Let them guide you into the sun; their rays will not cause you to squint, but rather invite you into a ballroom of daisies, drifting through the air as weightless birds of the meadow. Let them release your inner soul, the beast, from captivity. Roar with the once painfully sustained power of malice. Release it and become free of it. Let them cushion you with the clouds, praise you with the trees, sing to you in the breeze, and dance with you in the pasture of moonlight. Beneath the stars, pinholes in the curtain of night, shall they pierce your melancholy eyes and rip your inner elation from the core of your heart. Close your eyes as lions and open them as foxes of knowledge. See, from the glistening horizon of legacy, your future prospect as it awaits your arrival. Protect it, cherish it, and permit the sound to stimulate your face to evolve from the deceitful mask that you wear. Gain confidence. Fear will, indeed, fear you, and understand that to be nervous holds no purpose, for fate will hold its course. If you are not accepted you will not lose your health. If you are not befriended, you will not lose your health. Why, then, should you worry? Why should you allow the nerves of a healthy body transpire into the stimulus for cancer, that unnecessary spark of a negative flame. Accept yourself as a unique child of the lawn of diversity. Every blade of grass differs. If one cannot see it, than that is their flaw. Do not mistake it for your own. Let my words prove to you that your best is your best. Never ponder whether it be good enough. One's best will always surpass that question of rank. Invite my words to embrace you with a gentle hand. The same Earth and the same sky holds everyone in the same place.
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
"Life can be compared to a roller coaster. At the end, I want to be able to say that I have had a good ride."
-Francesca Mildred Gualano
-Francesca Mildred Gualano
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
"The mind is the most powerful existence. Its hungers will be satisfied and its thirsts quenched."
-Francesca Mildred Gualano
-Francesca Mildred Gualano
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