Forty-Eight - Rustling Up Frost

(Current Time: 9:50 Am, 2nd Blk)
(Current Sounds: Loveholic - Sana)

Poetry:

Haiku (Five Stanzas):

Hard beats lead their eyes
Into a twisted embrace
With the thrilling lights.

Echoes are made
By quivering fingertips
Against two dancers.

Only silence is
Created from the static
Electricity.

Intoxication
Controls the dancer's systems.
Happily seduced.

History is made
By dancing the night away
Under the twilight.

~~

Color:

Yellow-green! I feel so yellow-green!
I just want to throw my smiles like
Rockets with confetti colored tail strings!
And my energy gift-wrapped like
An explosive bomb with ions of
Exhilaration!

~~

Impossible Situation:

There is a man with a scowl
Pointing a giant bladed katana
At my neck.
Judging from his black bathrobe,
The overexaggerated skirt,
The cute white bow hanging around his waist
And the sandals on his feet--
Wait, sandals?

So he's not a Japanese enforcement officer
Who just got out of bed and sports
A fashion emergency?

And this isn't the 21st century, isn't it?

~~

Comparison:

Like a forest, frosted from the bitter cold,
With mysterious beauty and alluring grace.
That even from the harshful winds,
The gentle peace would never falter.
Like your welcoming kindness, dear sister.

~~

Auto-Bio:

Kiwi-
Kind, mischievious, crazy, loud
Sister of Klarisse and Ray
Lover of creativity, discovery and the power of freedom
Who fees carefree with her family, fear against a spider and belonging with her friends
Who needs a fresh spring day, a good video game and the language of music
Who gives laughter, reassurance and reliability
Who fears heights, unjustice, and drowning in her own pain
Who would like to see friends from many places, unity within her family tree and true love
Who lives in the bottom of a hill in a red townhouse
-Quilloy

~~
Can you say I'm crazy if I said 'I'm not finished yet?' xDDD
-kiwi

Forty-Seven - Brick Wall

(Current Time: 4:57 Pm, Evening)
(Current Sounds: GET UP 'N MOVE - S&K)

Musings and A Poem:

This just came to mind while I was working on my Poetry Project (due, like in a week xD). Well, enjoy. Not much to say here, but enjoy.

~~

You look like...

A breath of exaggerated hot air
A mockery of a bitch-slap
Like a broken helicopter blade in an IMAX movie
A haughty sewstress running out of thread
The neon label tape across a lawn
A bent fingernail grossily sticking out of an
Orangutan's lip
The tufts of fake mink fur on a pleather throw rug
Spilled cranberry juice on a checkered blanket
A beige telephone hanging useless on a school wall
Old fashioned burgers at Timmy's
Van Gogh's version of the Judas Kiss
A bride's bouquet colliding with a dj
Banter about the economic crisis
A ninja's interpretation of calypso
A French Vanilla latte triple shot without the vanilla
Foam from a lithe beaver's mouth
A chattering palace of gossiping pariahs
A young prosperous scientist who's trying too hard
Horses stampeding a post office in Zimbabwe
Fingerless gloves for a social worker
300 yen's worth of Magikut hairpins
A suspect in the 5 o'clock news holding a Red Bull can
Oversized puppies in the mud
A VCR still holding some dust from a Disney movie
A personal essay without its scoring guide
A rotten black diamond with no core of a heartbeat
A rundown SONY CD player with IPOD headphones
and an eraser with secret messages under its
cardboard sleeve.

~~
ughaaaaaa, moar later
-kiwi

Forty-Six - Talking To A Pair of Headphones

(Current Time: 1:46 Pm, 5th Blk)
(Current Sounds: Custom-Made Girl "NOT FOR SALE" - Sana)

Musings/Poetry:

ARGH

ARGH ARGH

I hate poetry. But its the next best thing before short story writing

OH WELL, LETS GIVE IT A TRY

~~

You dare to mock me, frayed wire?

You dare to snap your puny eletrical whatchamacallit's all over my face like you can just control my brain waves already with the lowered volume control cog infused seductively through your vines?

You could've just warned me that you were going to pop your popcorn sounding melodies into my cochlea (because you're sick twisted like that), you could've given me a heads-up when I heard one of my ears crackle and dismember itself with a jaw-dropping symphony of feedback and disorder.

But no. You had to break at the right song, didn't you? You cheap, dollar-store shelved bastard.

~~

next week, kiwi tries to talk to white-out and a faulty cabinet! XD