lusting real love

I try not to get too caught up in appearances, but how could I not lust for lips that speak truth… How could I, not get lost in eyes, that have seen love in everything. How could I not marvel at a selfless smile… And how could I, not long to hold, a body that is home to such a beautiful soul?

the mystic emotion

“the finest emotion of which we are capable is the mystic emotion. Herein lies the germ of all art and all true science. Anyone to whom this feeling is alien, who is no longer capable of wonderment, and lives in a state of fear, is a dead man. To know that what is impenetrable for us really exists, and manifests itself as the highest wisdom and the most radiant beauty, whose gross forms alone are intelligible to our poor faculties – this knowledge, this feeling … that is the core of the true religious sentiment. In this sense, and in this sense alone, I rank myself among profoundly religious men.”-Albert Einstein

” yeah me too fam”- Joel chidi Sydenham

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whispers and screams

(Co-written by @fontsize4poetry)

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They tell me that I’m no good.
Crawling up along my shoulder blades, they cling to my ear lobes and pull up.
Whispering with conviction-
Look at you. Ugh. Do better.
They tell me it’s my fault, pushing back my shoulders, tugging aggressively on my ear lobes, screaming with assertion.
Look at you. Eww. Be better.
My heart beat begins to play bass to this sinister symphony of whispers and screams…
I know the music won’t last but I can’t help but hate that I can’t change the tune… They drag me down often, make this body of mine an object to be poked, and teased, and pulled apart, limb from limb like I aint shit to anyone.
I am no temple when they come around.
I remain forever bound, to the two sinister sounds no one else can hear, my feet glued to the ground, my self put in a cell…so no one else can hear… any of my whispers or screams for help.