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Sprinkles to Re-Awake
Some sprinkles in the rain, to re-awake my nostrils from the smelly bee
A few steps for the ones who feel it and a few steps for the ones who hear it
Rain gazes up on me, what beauty is in the name of it
When true cleanliness is something so beautiful
Purity is something I strive to be, so nothing can stick on me
Laughter from the kids around me, oh, how delightful
What an enjoyable sight, what a beautiful time of the year
I think its winter, how marvelous to see the hugs and kisses from the neighbors to their children
It is truly a picture perfect Kodak moment of awe moments
That cannot be erased, nor pressed to be re-winded
As they are supposed to continue to move in motion
It’s truly the only form of potion that continues to be explored
So like this instrumental that will continue making me, feel like I am the only one in this rain
An enjoyable sight, oh how mesmerizing to know the day like today, will go into my memory
I can repeat this day for all eternity
Like something from a children’s, story poetry
I stand for a chance to let myself be heard
Without saying neither a word, nor writing any words
I hope to understand myself through poetry
It is an emotional battle with myself, Irene and me
The only true audience I agree
I need to be criticized in order to understand
That not all of these words matter, but perhaps then
I can wash off my dirty smelling laundry through waking up my fire
That is caught in purgatory dimensions
Because as I mentioned, it’s only true if I understand my stance on this remembrance
Leon Basin
Don’t Cry For Me
Do not cry for me, cry for the devil in the mirror, you see
This pain of grieve is not yours to keep, don’t hold onto memories of pain nor grieve
Loosen up your body and your mind, let laughter, smiles and my gentle eyes,
Caress your soul, caress your heart, caress your fingertips around my eyes,
Let them stare into your eyes, while standing on the edge of a Hawaiian Maui Earthquake
Let us re-connect our senses once again; they will be molded into a union
Of forward motion symmetry,
So words of poetry, erupts throughout your busy box of mind
Its touch of feelings is truly real, like the gentle kisses around an autumn day
Where pronouncing to be your one any only, was expressed,
It was a day like no other day
The hands that moved upon your smooth skin,
Will be missed
In reversible order of speaking none, but feeling and seeing all
These words are expressful in as much power as one gives it
So if you decide to ignore them and instead care to see it shown,
Then perhaps, you need to look beyond the busy streets of mountain crisp of folding chairs under Christmas tree…
Leon Basin
The Barricade
Getting back to monumental memories of perfection,
Things are so visionary, when the pen moves away from the temple, as the enchanted beams glare in
the
sunlight …
Things are gentle as my brigade of empty promises with something of corner stone hide a ways from
my shadows
Things are as perfect as the perfection itself is…
Writing is to futuristically see, into the memories of remembrance of self
Which progresses to be a mistake on many parts of the movement…?
Something so peculiar about this particular moment in time,
that nothing and I mean nothing, holds to these mind of mine,
as I continue to write,
how I feel about the things that are stuck in the parallel universes of self
It is a holographic moments of tomorrow or today,
as something that is confusing in this dismay
that attention code of silence as metaphors are supposed to make
you feel limitless to a degree to make it more confusing…
Leon Basin
http://www.leonbasin.net
Time Places
Face the book in the scary places at times, but release these memories of ancients, into something but a combined face to feel, yet gently react to the most forceful situations, with beauty inside ones heart and soul, to speak something from GOD, is ultimately beautiful, yet confusing, but don't be afraid of these extravagant voices of your imagination, as they are being released right now through you all!!!!
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