Steno Pad via Lauren “Nadi” Akins (a few from my pre-nuptial pen)

ArtEye, Creativity, Culture, Love

Steno Pad

Via:

Lauren “Nadi” Akins

 

Preface:

 Prosper.

Goodness, good news, and good people:

May they come into your aura.

Magnetize beauty, power, creativity.

Bold–Courageous–All Around Square Biz

 

THE BEST

 10-23-2013

 Seedz of joy grow magnolia flowers yall mistake as my teeth.

Smile centered,

Anatomy diagonal to the dirt.

Sun spits rays,

Faster goes the merry-go-round.

Weird and strange.

My eyes wrinkle,

Cheeks become parentheses

With as much royalty as Rameses.

 

 

 

 

10-23-2013

 come here,

let me.

be your.

life-sized centerfold.

 

8-10-2013

LAUREN OPINIONS

 

Something special in writing a book,

story or song,

to sustain the thought long enough

to feel and to meddle

with the possibility

soaking in the emotion

b/c mine are so passing, ephermal, and forgettable.

Getting my mind to stay in gear:

a great feat

-seeing as how I desire to be

planning out my career

Right Now.

Need to let myself stop feeling the need

to (get)

caught up.

And let old promise,

commitments, whatever

fly off with new wings

to see new life

as from this day forward.

The need to share ideas like water

in streams flows free.

Sleep is slipping her hands

around my waist and pulling me close to her.

I done spent the better part of the day

on a Scandal marathon with good food and catnaps:

unhaunted by tasks or to-do-lists,

a Saturday to just be.

Be flooded with a differing life pace and be sucked into a visual storybook.

When in his company 3-D is a place that’s calling my name over miles. I

love you.

I want the world so bad, friction is sandpaper on silk.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Her name is Magenta

She makes life feel like a fable,
Running on train platforms to catch unicorns flying to the Brooklyn Art Museum and Abyssinian restaurants.
She paints with a mixture of crushed ochre, wet lilacs, and oil:
Her paintbrushes are enchanted.
She practices with each picture, until for painting she is paid.
Offertory grins offering the World through her eyes.

Offhand politeness, a pretty bird from down South.
Doing slightly better on her Odyssey than Odysseus:
Her only offense, singing octagonal octaves with tremble fit only for October.
It’s that frighteningly authentic.
Official oddity, settling into her weirdness
That psychology officiates.
Her head cocked in analyzation,
An amendment to her peers’ playfully shallow scope,
And a nod to her ancestors.

She is analogous to a princess,
Petals envelope her lavender body as she drops them every now and again
Like the globe’s flower girl decorating dirty streets.

by: Yours Truly (Lauren Akins)

Fashion, My Happenings, poetry.

Dry Tribe

poetry.

drybones

It’s so hard when you’re the backbone.
Who can u cry to, if u ain’t got no eyes?
Somehow, tears squeeze their way outta da backbone, proud and fine.
That backbone covered up by a coat, so no one sees him crying.
He been taught tears mean spineless,
And he’d cease to exist. but right now damn all dat.
Drops of salty eye water itching to fall from what he doesn’t have.
Cuz his bones are dry.
And who can make nation out of dry bones?
Somewhere up in the sky,
For heavens sake, a little bone moving inside of a back.
a little bone moving, dancing
And that is his rain dance for eyes.  this backbone would cry!
Cry for his seven grown kids
And his lovely ex-wife
Only if he could relive the year two thousand and five.
He would have bent a little to see life from all sides, not be rigid and unmovable.
His own actions booted him.