PERSPECTIVE SHIFT

It rests on the night's palms the life of a star. Fist of the dark sky clinch within it the star's life span, a life with no plan fetus that generated from no sperm, plant with leaves suspended on the face of the earth with no stem, a manuscript inked with no pen.

It is short the life of a star, dies due to light dressing up the abdominal portion of sister earth. We nomads of light wake every morning moaning the star's death, every evening celebrate the star's rebirth, weep while observing the lost daughters and now with sons of Seth, casting wishes upon a star's death. Blind as to see that; it shoots not the black, sky but its own chest.

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Cease wishing upon shooting stars. As they are those who's illumination never caught your sight and now commit suicide to capture your attention. SHIFT-PERSPECTIVE

Silhouettes of eyebrows pushed to form shadows when hitting the wall, slapping his face are contrasting spectrum colors of the shy light within the pale moon, pity he cannot witness the joyful foot steps of light rays dancing on his face. Its a disgrace to say grace with eyes wide open, he is not subjected to that filthy taboo token, his eyes are forever shut, leading to emptiness that now fills his heart. A blind man dreams not, for dreams require one to have visual ability on both eyes or even one can do, well a third eye doesn't count. He knows not the skin tone of his ugly wife with a smooth skin textured hand feeding him every night, the sense of touch betrayed him! A blind man dreams not.

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Do embrace what you do not have, for that might be a blessing in disguise.

He enjoys the view of the sea and see when H walks to O, that very moment when water abandons the sea to inhabit the blue skies in the form of clouds, he finds heaven in visions he creates by stretching his imagination as a blanket pulled to cover all four corners of the earth, a blind man is free from the visual predicaments that have shackled man with solid chains of perception, man imagines only what he knows and already existing. A blind man sees what he likes and knows nothing but the beauty of his own imagination. SHIFT_PERSPECTIVE.

Confused by voices forming this silent soliloquy, words bending the equator on earth's belly. Thoughts are untouchable with characteristics of mercury; hands build gestures, shapes the idea like pottery. Balance the scale of emotions and thoughts as to surpass equilibrium, crack cranium. Roughly sketch her image, with her lips on the minimum and hips on the maximum. Yes, let your pen sell an illustration to the blank page. Now only one voice is heard. Alright, let yourself be the switch and her be the light, with this illuminated pen do write, with a sketch on the right. The precise image of your Miss Right (pardon me please, for you females Mr. Right). The wise ones did say; with your mind your reality you create. Imagine and let your mind reach all quadrants of the universe, with focus on your thoughts you're bound to find him. Then with all you are, love your Mr. Right.

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Turn a deaf ear to the voices, unplug they cords and mute they vocals. If your love is that Great, why don’t you choose to love Mr. Wrong to the Right point! Trust your love to wash his ugliness to the handsome point. SHIFT_PERSPECTIVE and love the wrong guy till he gets right.

In a restaurant while on a date at the edge of a leap year calendar. Swallowed after chewing and failing to digest exhibits of that chicken with a shovel, managed to create a path just beneath the highway so it didn't cross the road, but was killed by death.

She gets stomach cramps, heart burns, inferno melts all her chakras, survives solar plexus, fingers intertwine forms a solid nexus, the night's wind on her skin paused all her involuntary reflexes. With his hands as bandages and her the mummy, his voice in her ears altered the set to some Egyptian fantasy.

Unlike the food back at the restaurant, she was able to digest his words, when he spoke: Forget the poetry I'm an MC, so let me wrap my words around you while we embrace the beauty of the sky with its glittering million eyes, stars. Let us kiss the night bright and have the sun for all the 24 hours. Let us with our love embrace the cute nature.

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Pokes his finger, clears the soil at the cross point of the roads, the tar surface. Draws with the fluid from his finger two pentagrams and invites her to rest in one, with her head on the 1st corner, hands and feet on other corners, he does the same. Tells her to forget everything even her name: empty yourself of all your contents and let the energy of love run through you. He does the same. Now fully aware, look at the sky, see it changing from light to dark so to reveal its beauty, the stars competing by shining more than the next, others even jumping trying to capture your attention. Look at the cute nature doing all that, going through that much trouble just for embracing your existence. SHIFT_PERSPECTIVE. You don't have to embrace stars, they embrace your beauty.

Disclosed are temple doors, sound becomes so loud that it is not heard, one could hear sounds of ants mimicking the human language. Time for prayer.

The two garage doors beneath the eye brows are pulled down. Shut visions, so that one can concentrate on their words to God, log in to they prayer and never disturbed by what their eyes see. Since automatically eyes send messages to their brain even when the mind is blind.

Close your eyes when praying so that you don't get deceived by looks.

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The utterance of words: OUR FATHER. Pulled down the cosmic ropes and God descended in front you he landed, but you couldn't see him because of your obsession of starring at your internal eyelids. He stood there before you hoping that you'd see him, then you got to your last words and said AMEN, you reminded him of his heaven curfew. He motor started his wings and ascended back to heaven.

SHIFT_PERSPECTIVE and let your eyes see what they see for God might just be that portrait holding carefully the wall as not to fall, that piece of ornament honoring the entrance of your guests, that spoon on the table constructing holes on the house atmosphere for microwaves to pass. . .Appreciate what you see because God is all that IS. . .