Feel good sorrows,

Wishful never and forever tomorrows

This heart is hollow; your potion is only fleeting my love

Azza Gallab (c)

Listen to the silence of the havoc we’re making

Monsoon fireworks splash eruptions of scarlet jellyfish in the clouds of our minds

Blinded by metaphors of passion

What more is there to see in life?

I have forgotten you…

~

Let’s not make sense of this,

Let’s live senseless…

~

We are senseless

How divine we are…

Then, now, and hereafter

Azza Gallab (c)

Unknowingly Known

I’m standing within the most vividly invisible setting that one could sightlessly see. Bright black beams of dimmed daylight wrap me in the morning night’s dawn-dusk. Birds hum while crickets chirp, collectively caroling cries of contradiction. Muggy moons melt glacial capes of snow flakes for falling stars. Melancholic merry moods make way for todays tomorrow, and tomorrow’s morrow at present is satisfying the sorrow of a bitter sweet stream saturated with saccharine saline forever briefly flowing toward it’s drenched dehydration. Silent instruments voice harmonious nothings blaringly while ambiance dances at rest. Passionate apathy absorbs hollow sentiment producing numb tingles. Hearts pump callous compassion through forlorn veins of admiration. Insignificant significance is the birth of demise. Melancholic merry moods make way for today’s tomorrow, and tomorrow’s morrow at present is satisfying the sorrow of a living loss. Death breathes a breath that blows evermore into the last taste of ones beginning end. Unknowingly known.

Azza Gallab (c)

I extend my hand to you…

I think I’d like to get to know you
I’d like to figure you out
Can I take you out?
Outside on an outrageously sunny day
Two outstanding outcasts outing somewhere out of this world
You are out of this world, and I’m mesmerized

Let me take you in
Inside an entirely insightful mind ride
My incessant thoughts of your invaluable worth are incredible
This is incredible, and I’m mesmerized

Two outstanding outcasts outing inside an entirely insightful mind ride
The perfect peculiar paradox

This seems so familiar
Once upon a time I knew this moment
You must be my present past
The perfect peculiar paradox

You are so familiar and I am at ease
Please, let me take you in
Our moments shall bring out timeless passion

I extend my hand to you…

Azza Gallab (c)

Oxymoronic Truth Does Not Inspire Me Anymore

Inspire me world!

Inspire me life!

Inspire me…

For the moment I retire shall be untimely

Timed

Oxymoronic truth used to inspire me

But not anymore

I was once inspired

But not anymore

My vision is dull anymore

Or…

Your vision is dull?

Or

This vision is dull

I see that I cannot see anymore

You see?

This box is full to capacity with lackluster nothings

I am so anxious for nothing

I am trying to make something out of nothing anymore

It’s there,

The sensation.

These tingles cause utter frustration

I adore them

I am absolutely mad

Why am I not inspired anymore?

It is difficult when:

“You can only die each morning

And live again in the dreams of the night”

With Fenton Johnson

He is not here anymore

But, I shall see him tonight

Only then, will my thoughts ignite

Inspiration

Until I wake to see

Nothing

Until I wake to hear

Something

Common sense telling me to “keep on”

“God is freedom”

Allahu Akbar

Words have become my vision

Why am I not inspired anymore?

Sense is not common

Words have been tainted

And yet I “keep on”

For the moment I retire shall be untimely

Timed

My uninspired soul inspires me anymore

Though, oxymoronic truth does not inspire me anymore

I am absolutely mad

Azza Gallab (c)

Rapidly Still

Within…

Inside my skin there is another life

A life of immobility that stagnantly moves so rapidly still

What is life? I do not know.

Whatever you make it, so they say.

Let me build my recipe with positive vibrations and realism

2 cups of Oshun to wash it all down

I’ve been deficient in vitamin optimistic

I’m all out of sense, damn.

Woulda’ spiced the meal up a bit

1 cup of Oshun to quench my yearning for sense

Infinite cents spent on retailing sense

One or the other? Can’t have both.

But I can, I make sense

I make cents.

I only wish I did.

Give, provide, bestow your soul.

Nothing is ever balanced.

Which is why I’m out of sense

Which is why I’m out of cents

I sense a reeking scent of dilemma.

There is no dilemma,

There is no sense,

There are no cents,

There is no scent

Nothing.

There is nothing here,

Why do I try to make something out of nothing?

Because I’ve never had something.

Never kept something, I’m always giving.

Generous by no means, I’m stingy.

That realism must really be kicking in.

So let’s be real, let us be real.

All I have left are positive vibrations.

Which I give yet do not receive in equivalence of what I bestow

Because nothing is ever balanced

Which is why I’m out of sense

Which is why I’m out of cents

I sense a reeking scent of dilemma.

There is no dilemma,

There is no sense,

There are no cents,

There is no scent

There is no balance. I need balance.

Within…

60 percent of Oshun submerges within me

Positive vibrations and realism swim, making love within the salubrious deluge

Planting seeds of paradox

Within…

A life of immobility that stagnantly moves so rapidly still

Azza Gallab (c)

My ideal Paradox

Covet off beam
Skewed…
My ideal paradox

Intuition
Sensation
Difficult to confront
Immobile, I…

Fulfill my need

Rejection
Approval

Covet off beam
Skewed…
My ideal paradox

Azza Gallab (c)