by Tupac Shakur
Monday, December 27, 2010
Friday, December 17, 2010
love is like a candle
infatuation is like a fire
instant, passion, flame
the bright, enticing light lures you in
but bids you stay away
captivating and tantalizing
jerking, jumping in a fury of pleasure
setting your soul ablaze
alluring, flashing before the eyes
it possesses a strange aura that captivates the mind
and tickles the senses
excitement whispers yet danger screams
starting as a kindle but leaving the remains of burnt tinder
floating ashes
love is like a candle
embodied by mystery
a gift
slowly unwrapped
a candle with a flickering flame
gradually gaining light
textures of the wicker gently catching the flame
the beauty and grace of time
allowing the fire to gently ease in
slowly burning
the fragrance delicately infuses the air
tis the sweet scent of love
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Verlaine & Karaoke
It's been ages since I blogged.
one part laziness
two parts No time
this has been the most challenging and life draining semester. Bags and dents have made a permanent residence on my face. I've aged in the past three months, and my brain cells have both increased and diminished.
but I'm finally back in the concrete jungle--for a few weeks at least.
Sad to say, I've been in hibernation ever since stepping out of LaGuardia. Yesterday was my first official day out.
Christmas shopping on 34th, Starbucks on 41st, a drink called 'Nina' on Ludlow at Verlaine, in preparation for the final destination FBPC in Greenwich village for a rousing of karaoke.
Dim lit, pool table, a waiter named Arthur, jovial crowd and Ryan as the host.
Needless to say, it was a great night. Although my vocal talent didn't get discovered, something else did. In the middle of singing my rendition of Diva, a dike proceeded to hit on me, and cornered me when I was left alone. If that wasn't enough as we were leaving she came over shadowing me with sad eyes asking, "are you leaving me". Hmm... Awkard. to say the least.
We met some friendly Brits and cleared the karaoke bar. The train station was full of pounding, African beats from a drummer. With bangles on my wrist and a carefree attitude by the end of the night, I let my hands take me away into a comical interpretative dance on the Subway platform. My friend feeling THE most friendly that night led out in a round of applause for the gentleman on the drums then slid her way into the center with drumsticks in hand, and began her own medley of beats. This led to claps on the platform and smiles echoed from the once dull faces droning the subway.
We made it on the train where two Arabs initiated a conversation with us with the iPhone as the central theme. Meanwhile, the most adorable Spanish guy offered his headphones to us after we smilingly imposed asking which song he was listening to.
As if there weren't enough social vibes protruding the air, we ran into a coworker of my brother's who accompanied us for the remainder of the trip home.
Sigh, we'd finally made it.
Tired, with an appointment only a few hours away in the morning, I closed my eyes. Yet another night in the city bubbling with spontaneity.
one part laziness
two parts No time
this has been the most challenging and life draining semester. Bags and dents have made a permanent residence on my face. I've aged in the past three months, and my brain cells have both increased and diminished.
but I'm finally back in the concrete jungle--for a few weeks at least.
Sad to say, I've been in hibernation ever since stepping out of LaGuardia. Yesterday was my first official day out.
Christmas shopping on 34th, Starbucks on 41st, a drink called 'Nina' on Ludlow at Verlaine, in preparation for the final destination FBPC in Greenwich village for a rousing of karaoke.
Dim lit, pool table, a waiter named Arthur, jovial crowd and Ryan as the host.
Needless to say, it was a great night. Although my vocal talent didn't get discovered, something else did. In the middle of singing my rendition of Diva, a dike proceeded to hit on me, and cornered me when I was left alone. If that wasn't enough as we were leaving she came over shadowing me with sad eyes asking, "are you leaving me". Hmm... Awkard. to say the least.
We met some friendly Brits and cleared the karaoke bar. The train station was full of pounding, African beats from a drummer. With bangles on my wrist and a carefree attitude by the end of the night, I let my hands take me away into a comical interpretative dance on the Subway platform. My friend feeling THE most friendly that night led out in a round of applause for the gentleman on the drums then slid her way into the center with drumsticks in hand, and began her own medley of beats. This led to claps on the platform and smiles echoed from the once dull faces droning the subway.We made it on the train where two Arabs initiated a conversation with us with the iPhone as the central theme. Meanwhile, the most adorable Spanish guy offered his headphones to us after we smilingly imposed asking which song he was listening to.
As if there weren't enough social vibes protruding the air, we ran into a coworker of my brother's who accompanied us for the remainder of the trip home.
Sigh, we'd finally made it.
Tired, with an appointment only a few hours away in the morning, I closed my eyes. Yet another night in the city bubbling with spontaneity.
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