We create our own inertia, movement, chaos.
We align ourselves with the tumbleweeds of our thoughts, the shooting stars of our imaginations, the rainbows of our fantasies.
We build bridges into other kingdoms while taking our rightful place on the thrones of our creations.
Our minds are the fertile grounds of our future. Our thoughts are the building blocks of our own predestined worlds. We write the stories of our lives with the ink of our blood, the parchment of our skin, and the mechanisms of our sweat and tears.
Our fantasies flow into the streets of our reality; creating new alleys and crossroads, constructing new dimensions and dwelling places – leading us to richer, more complex surroundings in order to fulfill our purpose, complete our deeds, and finish the assignment that we were sent here to do when we first made up our minds and agreed to return to this physical, natural Earth that we come to rely on as our home.
You spark something in me
Poem and photo by L J Priest
“If you would not be forgotten,
as soon as you are rotten,
either write things worth reading
or do things worth the writing.”
Photo by L. J. Priest
You are the apple of my eye – one hundred times over.
L. J. Priest
A sincere heart and an upbeat attitude can carry you on for miles.
I took this photo in La Ceiba, Honduras. The pier, the view, the people were all magnificent.
By L. J. Priest
Can you hear me?
Can you hear the silent screams of passion taking place right now in my soul?
As my hearts races in furious longing.
As my pulse quickens its beat along the extensive highways of my veins.
As my breath labors heavily in my lungs, and raises my chest in rhythmic anticipation of your love.
As my eyes darken under the fluttering of my lashes
as I steal sideways glances at your naked form.
You are perfection…..
Born from the joyous union of irresistible charm and impeccable physique.
The waves of my lust come crashing
onto the shores of my conscious,
and make me vitally aware that without you in my life,
my world is a muted place.
L. J. Priest
My model is the adorably colorful Heather Marie Miss Kitty. Find her at https://www.facebook.com/HeatherMarie.MissKitty
Ode to Amber Ale
Weighty lightness, solid levity,
Some ancient rite, draws me
To the foam.
Its celestial colour,
Its effervescent overflowing,
How it teases my buds,
Picture taken at Zum Rosenhof Restaurant in Hinesville, Ga.
Only credit on poem that I could find online was the name “Ormond” – if anyone knows anything about this writer, please comment.
The winter is for the young and foolish. Give me a warm beach, with white sands and crystal blue waters. Take me away from the Nordic winds and bitter chills, and give me Latin music with a strong beat, a full dance floor, and a beautiful man to jump and sway with me into the early morning hours. Give me a strong drink of rum with a shot of lime, and a Cuban cigar smoldering beside my glass. I want to wake up in the morning and be greeted by a hot sun and warm breezes drifting in along the ocean shoreline. During my day, I want to move through a city that does not speak my language, but challenges me to communicate with words that are new and foreign to my ear. All around me I want to see smiling faces, and bright colors, and strange fruits and vegetables. I want to feel as though every day is a fresh day, and I am more alive now than I was yesterday. I want to wake from my northeastern daze and feel more vibrant with every breath of the Caribbean air. I long to be a foreigner, living in a strange and exotic land.
Spring is a mere three weeks away.
“Oh play me some mountain music
Like Grandma and Grandpa used to play
Then I’ll float on down the river
To a Cajun hide-a-way”
‘MOUNTAIN MUSIC’ by the group ALABAMA
Photo by L J Priest