@29Would I stay this way, Pain in my heart, Slouch in my sway,Praying for yet another dame?@29My being long’s for another;Completion its goal,A partner to bother,Yet put smiles into her soul.@29I run the worldIn search of my ribsomeone to call my love,For her I make this trip.@29Single I still amFickle in my choiceHer dimples a plusHumming to be or not to be...
by: Seun Aduwo
Yet another talented friend, people! Say hello to Seun Aduwo who unlike my previous Guest Damian Sinton, is not afraid to give his true identity 😀 I’m sure some of you are wondering “where on earth is all the female talent?!” but not to worry, I’ll have girl power in the house PRETTY soon! 😉 (lol!) Till next time… 🙂Cheers! 😉
Its time once again to introduce another fabulous Blogger on wordpress.com 🙂
Meet Scott Michell and with him the love of his life, Wéndollyn. ===========>
🙂
Reading his Poetry blog “Evoking the Deep“, you are pulled into the world of an otter romantic, but then if you are fortunate enough to chats with this amazing character you find that you were right! This very interesting North AmericanOOoozes romance! 😛 😀 To me he is also very comical, a free thinker and pretty much a spiritual kind of guy, however I think this time I will leave it to my featured guest to tell us a little about himself 🙂
I can’t think of a lot to say about me except that I grew up in a small town and lived there all my life. Childhood was filled with daily adventure seeking with friends. I had a few moments when I felt my romantic and writing side come out, but I bottled it back up shortly after each time. Until 4 years ago, that is and I began spilling out every thought and feeling into poetry. Then, I was fortunate to become friends with Wéndollyn and I made the plan for my first visit to her country with the one goal of meeting her. The visit went very well and we quickly became more than friends (for more about this romantic tale just click! 😉 “Unfamiliar Passage: Back to the Start“). She has filled my life with inspiration and love ever since. She’s supportive of my passions such as writing and photography and we are compatible in every way I can think of. We’re both very serious people, but have our immature moments together as well. One time in Cartagena we had fun on a sidewalk near the beach. Whenever someone was approaching she would keep her back to them and start shouting at me. Then she would swing her hand at my face and I clapped my hands and jerked my face to the side to give the appearance of her slapping my face. Then, we would grab each other and passionately start kissing as the pedestrians looked at us in amazement and confusion. That’s one example of our shared craziness. We also both consider ourselves very serious Christian and our daily conversations almost always include topics of our faith. We talk on the phone or with webcams as much as 3 hours every day and continue surviving the LDR, but we really want to end this distance soon.
My next visit is in July and there could be some surprises that I’ll publish on “Unfamiliar Passage.”
I work in IT for an automotive manufacturer and I support CAD (computer aided design) systems for all of our North and South American locations as well as Japan.
I can’t tell you I have a favorite piece Scott’s poetry (“Evoking the Deep“) because all his poems are “ON POINT!“, but I will say that the following was the very first piece that got me to click the “follow” button on his blog and I have never looked back since then! 🙂
The ageless artist. Vicious portrayals he reveals, made with constantly evolving brushes from stone, to steel, then fire; Novel models now made nuclear.
Strokes of the brush hints the gush of red, While the steadfast patron, his ecstasy’s fed, A hate inspired vision created, The canvas drenched in gory shade.
Mangled figures, a lifeless display Unseen souls violently snatched away, The Benefactor, His fill he takes with each image portrayed.
In time we see the board wiped clean, yet moved by hatred the artist births new scene A mural of blood, flesh, sweat and tears a horrid vision, the gods to bare.
The artist, unwavering and dissatisfied Conjured by the darkness of human pride Peace and love, his art deprive. While hatred, in each heart reside.
His Masterpiece, yet unborn! A display to end all earth spawn, Thus these words I write to warn “Keep far the novel brush lest he paint the mushroom cloud across our horizon”
I miss the emotion I carried while you were here I miss the laughter and I miss the tears, I miss the worry and the fear I miss the love that we both shared.
I miss our brawls and reconciliations I miss how loving you took patience I remember how annoying you could be! I would give anything to have you now unnerving me
I miss every mood that tied me to you I miss the bad ones, but more the good Your absence leaves me feeling like I have been run through And how deep the gash you made, you will never have a clue
Tread softly I am weak, heartbroken, won’t even speak. the feeling’s gone, nothing left to lift shattered pieces, within I sift.
This ache is real, the wound will heal but it seems stupid, this audacity to feel; lessons learnt from time and in this race, powerless though, nature wills at its pace. totally damned, children of her will it’s a marvel the grip of our skill.
Tread softly I am weak ….Tell my heart never to speak
By: Damian Sinton
Damian Sinton
Meet “Damian Sinton”, an alias of course! 😉 He’s a friend and a pretty shy one, so I have edited the lovely picture you see of himself and his little angel 🙂 … Just another reminder that I’ve got talented friends 😉 😀
Her heart is poured out like streaming water, all care is cast at the Immortal Feet Eyes shut, hands clasped together, Her African figure approaches the Mercy Seat
Its morning, She rises up same time as every other day, and with a wide smile on her face she stretches and gives out a “GOOD MORNING!” This of course does not go down too well with her partner who irritably grabs the pillow from her side of the bed and hurriedly places it over his head as he buries his face in the one beneath him. He absolutely hated those “Good Morning” moments.
Despite the fact that he has become accustom to the episode each time she wakes beside him, i.e. Her going off like a village rooster, the insecure bloke is more upset and resentful of the way she sounds each time she gives the customary salutation. Its comes out with this rapturous burst of energy… “How come I never make you sound that way at night?” he says unable to conceal his envy any longer. “Excuse me!” She replies as she turns in surprise, unsure of the muffled words that have come from within the pillows. With his face off the pillow this time he repeats his question, but unable to look her in the eyes as he does. “How come I never make you sound that way at night?” After a few seconds of shocking silence she lifts herself from the other side of the bed where she’s seated; In his baggy “Tees” she laughingly jumps on the back of her sulking lover. “You are such a child” she says as she plays with his ear lobes.
Seductively she lays on his bare back and whispers:
“Why feel spite for the morning, is she not good? Why vex as I salute day’s dawning? It is only with gratitude…
Do not compare my heightened sound of day to my lowly moans of night, when your hands, your lips, your skin upon me fill me with delight.
You desire screams as our bodies entwine and I reel in orgasmic pleasure? Well forgive me as the words lay caught in my throat while the moment I treasure.
Be not jealous of the morning and the excitement she brings me, but bless her as she gives way to the evening, and into the night once again we will be”
“This is some real Shakespearean ish” he says to himself as she nibbles on his right ear lobe and with her fingers plays with the hair on his naked back…. But hey, it worked! His supremacy over the morning is finally restored! He turns, and taking her in his arms plants a long kiss on her lips and with a look of mischief in his eyes he says “well the morning can have your screaming salutations, I on the other hand can make you moan whenever the hell I want!” She giggles as they kiss.
Chocolate, porcelain skinned sister, daughter to the African earth Nappy haired diva, I pray She knows her worth
Embodiment of Soul and Spirit, queen, commoner, slave-girl alike Her brownness is “AFRICA” whether bound or free, She bears Kush’s culture; Nubia’s history
She is a cluster of many shades, Copper, Coco and Coffee; Chocolatey-milk and Ebony No matter where her birth, She remains Africa’s trophy
She bears the “Dark Continent” in her womb wherever She may be, Those child bearing hips of hers are Mother Africa’s Eternity.
Fickle in my choice Her dimples a plus Humming to be or not to be... by: Seun Aduwo
Festival King 