#potpourriofthoughts #ideaswithink #nothingbynobody #nothingbynobodI
Life invades your love and melts your gold heart and silver eyes into a single brick. You are golden not a stone.
You are a country, not an empire. You do not own the hearts of anybody else.
Jump off the face of the earth and you’ll end up on her feet.
Every person is a mirror for everybody else. Don’t reflect the world but have the world reflect you.
Our roots of our destiny grow into the tree of our life.
Dreams have expiry dates. Souls have name plates.
Curiosity is the scaffold of imagination.
Universe puts on the asteroid belt and Saturn’s ring.
Days are planes that crash in the waters of time.
#potpourriofthoughts #ideaswithink #nothingbynobody #nothingbynobodi
When you slash your wrist, you are slashing the tires of your soul.
We are tenants in our own hearts.
Oppression has a face but no voice.
There are good parts of hell and bad parts of heaven.
We buy months in dozens.
Mine the depths of my life.
Your eyes are an airport.
Relive life vs unlive.
Cages live in birds. Houses live in people.
I am inside my skin but outside my soul.
Earth is a carousel and we are the workhorses.
She moved from the child-hood to the mother-hood and then back to the child-hood.
Yesterday sells roots Today sells compasses Tomorrow sells wings.
Death was a fisherman so God became a lifeguard.
A little glimpse on how (and why) my first Book of Poetry and Flash Fiction TIME CAPSULE came to life and what writing meant and means to me. SHARE YOUR STORIES in the comments, if you wish:)
Dear Subscribers! Would you like to get My FREE BOOK? Rules are simple: Share/LIKE this POST, and e-mail your CANADIAN address to firstname.lastname@example.org
WAIT, GET, READ
Sorry, no other countries BUT Canada.
Void where prohibited. No cash. I respect your privacy and will not sell or share your e-mail or any other information.
Earth lifts us so we can lift her when she gets old.
The nuclear-family power plant does not provide energy to the city of love.
You watch the movie of life in the bed of death.
Life is a heart-dying salon. Death is a heart-dieing salon
A heart is a house. The heart is a home.
Some hearts aren’t break-king because a queen lives there.
Our souls are colorblind so we put on glasses of prejudice to see the world.
Every human is a building. Some are skyscrapers. Others are houses. Some are airports, and hospitals, and jails, and schools.
Love is a farm Death is a slaughterhouse.
Egos are plants. We cut them to make humble pie.