SPONTANEOUS.

( I should be working hard for my employer, but I wrote this instead...call this a tea-break!!)

Take the opportunity while you can!
That’s the motto for the year!
This isn’t the same as grab, grab, grab all you can,
It’s more like take the chance, get over your fears.
(weak intro)

Life is like cement,
All its potential is stored in bags.
And nothing constructive happens,
til the bag is ripped to bits,
And discarded in the trash.
(better middle)

Imagine you are a prime number…
Nothing can cut you down.
Divisible only by 1 and yourself.
For all opportunity is given by 1 God,
who is King and crowned,
And life lived by 1 “you”…when? ...RIGHT...NOW.
(reflective finish...lemon face)

PS: the largest prime number has over 12 million digits.

INHALE

(Why do the most beautiful girls keep getting caught up in 1 night stands? This is 'her' story. Pause. Think. Inhale...)

Here we go again.
Tragic aint it?
Nothing to show for it,
Nothing to gain from it.
That’s why it’s tragic aint it?
What a useless routine;
How ridiculously obscene;
But here we are... again.

I hear love is a maiden and lust is a mistress,
So guess where I lie in this case.
Never been a damsel in distress,
With or without my short dress,
His only interest,
Is to have me undressed.
I can see it in his eyes;
The bastard has the fire in mine,
mistaken for being impressed.
But I engage him;
For I have surely entertained much less... much quicker,
shukisha stage, okota next... drain deeper.
Wateja wote...Beba, beba

Pain is alcohol soluble,
So we drink to make the exchange bearable.
Drop another bottle,
flush it with a flash sip.
Mouth to liver to head return trip.
Sweet release... what sweet release!
That’s why this liquor here sells.
Numb the brain cells and the firing of senses,
And the pain is replaced by the ringing of happy bells and dances.

Drink up, drink big!
The art of war and the art of seduction are siblings,
Manipulation and strategy is what they begin with.
Screw your mind and then screw you;
Squeeze you dry and then deny you.
Aint that the truth!!
The truest for sure,
For “trust” is a safe that’s the least secure,
For “trust”, like the titanic, was a ship that should have endured,
But didn't!
Instead it capsized and drowned me in sorrow,
Lazy goodbyes and forgotten tomorrows.

So why do I keep up this stupid appearance?
Like I enjoy being here, like I enjoy doing this?
The crap that it is and the ghosts that come with it;
The pleasure that drops faster than an anvil held back by a paper clip!
A rat race without a finish,
a light in the tunnel that continues to diminish,
And all of a sudden, I'm feeling ashamed and mighty skittish,
Gotta leave, gotta be free,
Gotta bounce, gotta go find me,
For somewhere in between,
I lost the plot,
I must have forgot,
Whom I was doing this for.
I must have ignored,
The loving arms and the sweet embrace;
Of smiles like sunshine;
Of laughter so divine;
Of footsteps that thumped like heartbeats,
As my heart beats.

Enough with the life of longing
Gotta leave, gotta be free,
Gotta bounce, gotta go find me.

MY AUTO-BIOGRAPHY!

My wishlist is expensive,
And therefore like Lloyd,
My bank Rolls Royce
For that Bimma, Benz and Bentley!!
Forward thinkers are known to forge for Fords,
But that’s audacious once you’re in an Audi!

The sauti of a Subaru…is sensual...
And still the best to hear!
The Kia is rubbish,
And the VW is rarely refurbished.
And what about the skwirmish?
i.e. Toyota Vitz!
With its fits of imbalance like a drunkard on stilts!

French minds started wilting;
So take the kudos away from the Peugeot!!

In the 22nd century,
Nomads should roam their Ranges in Rovers,
As they herd their cattle,
Especially their Lambos!
With predators like Jaguars,
You would need an Ascari;
Especially one as Astonished as Martin!!
For a friend for the long-haul,
You’d do well to rely on Vauxhaul.
Church pews would be full of the Pagan i.e-Zonda;
Who’d Corvette the legs of the Lexus!!

As the Pastor pushes for greater exPorsche,
The choir of Chevy, Mustang and Honda,
Would lead the congregants in revs and worship.
Something would be miss’n if it wasn’t for Niss’n!!
And we’d all say kwaheri to the disappearing Ferrari.