Nirvana of Pure Heresy

Dream of me and at the fall of the night,

Give me a place in your mind where i can exist...

Shape me into what you desire,

Make me a fantasy, a nirvana of pure heresy.

Give me life.

Dream of me before the fall of dawn,

Let me, incrust myself onto your subconscious and do to you what no one dare...

I will take life as your mind take heights in the deep of the night,

A warm light to format your drizzly nights.

Like forbidden desires thirst i will take shape into your mind,

An heresy of pure fantasy, A nirvana of lust...

I will breed ideas of passion defying the laws of attraction,

breaking theories of abstraction,  On a playground deprived of rules and regulations.

I will take you to a place where time is irrelevant, physical exertion obliterate,

Somewhere between space and time...You will complete me...I will define you.

By 

Gael K. Somayire

Letter of resilience

Letter of resilience

I experience this never ending, never forgiving spiral of resentment,

Heartfelt poisonous feelings emotionally forged for the antagonist you chose to be me.

The acerbity of your unconscious wrath aimed at destroying me, is killing me.

I am dead for unexplained reasons.

What are the mirages and illusions drifting you away from me and us from each other?

In desperation I search, petrified by what I might find I search, for I seek answers I search.

The question I want to ask is:” What is it with you and this softhearted tyranny?”

Bravely I wish I could sustain this misery you disdainfully bestow upon me,

But I can’t contain this fury gradually taking life within the abysmal confinements of my being.

I am human, therefore there’s an amount of bigotry I cannot lovingly endure,

For a soul can only be tormented for so long.

I write this letter of resilience as a mean of settlement,

To retaliate would betray my swain virtue.

Faithfully yours,

Gael K.S.

A life string of Music

I was raised on Anita Baker listening to her apologies,

While Marvin Gaye was wondering what was going on,

Trying to feel that sexual healing by getting it on the mic to my radio waves.

See music was introduced to me as a classy melody,
Only dating monarchs and cheating with Mozart;

Then in my high school years,
She turned into a bodily boomboxed vixen that got it into Biggie,

Spitting them hardcore 16 bars near the corner store,

where Mariah picked her up and turned her into a beautiful Butterfly.

She’s the soundtrack of my life,
The only track I couldn’t remix or break up with for that fact;

Fresh memories of my first kiss,
And “till the end of the road” roaming in the back of my head

Losing my edge like Radiohead.

Then I realized I was superbad,

But that was because I had soul like James Brown

Sliding across that stage like a rolling curtain that could’nt be contained,

Unshackled proud citizen of Soulville with my cool self.

Music then became my Rhythm N’ Blues acquaintance
That I reminisce my first intimate moment with,

She was right there with me playing foreplay vibes at every touch and breath of unconscious pleasure,

Discovering a whole new world of forbidden intimacy with a tint of slow jammin.

Music is that Sunday morning gospel holy spiritualness,

That made PINK feel like God was the DJ, life was the dancefloor and she was the music.

Music is my life orchestra, the notes in which my story is being written in,

The continuity of what is promised to be legendary.

I am music; music is me, a perfect Symphony.

By,

Gael  K.Somayire.

A dollar is not just a dollar.

I live on a dollar bill and George Washington is my witness for he is my pockets favorite,

Not that I am spoiled for choice in my presidents since the one I want to hold in bunches is Benjamin,

Loaded on ten’s of stacks building up like a mountain and at the sight of it we all wish to climb it.

I walk around with singles not equal to a ten-spot far from making a gold digger reach her G-Spot,

But I know my buck is equivalent to a 4/5 of a big Mac in Manila,

It ain’t no thriller but it will sure be a killer to that pain in my stomach.

A dollar is not just a dollar and I acknowledge it as such,

Since a dollar define's a certain stage in life for each one of us;

Mine showcase my current state of “wanna be baller, shot caller”

On the uprising like a good credit slowly gaining points,

Looking for an approval that, I deserve more than what I have in my account.

A dollar is not just a dollar,

It is a gun shooting a revolution of Will,

Pushing me to the limit of capitalizing on my abilities to cash in,

Living that “big pimpin” life like I am Don King, 

Promoting a fight for financial success.

A dollar is not just a dollar,

It is a horn that screams hope, saving lives, buying rice to annihilate the nation of starvation,

Bulking up a government founds for a brighter future, the promise of a better tomorrow lacking sorrow.

A dollar is not just a dollar,

Today I might be dealing with Washington,

but I am shortly expecting to tie the knot with Benjamin,

For my better tomorrow.

True Love, a bedtime story.

I often hear it but I hardly see it;

We all seek it, but few may grasp it.

He said/she said:”I want to live it, explore it, and sing it”.

But all that humming is for the moment being, since all we desire is a fling.

I will seek the deepest desire for my flesh but not for my soul,

I will dream of our perfect evening,

But nightmares of a “forever love” will not haunt my evenings,

Since all I want for the time being is a fling.

How do I see it?

Love is a prison and I was sentenced to forever,

I pleaded not guilty to unconditional loving,

But in the eyes of the jury I was looking romantically sorry.

Sadly true love ran out of our blood-pumping organ a while ago,

We chased it away with the lust of our bodies over the sacrifice of our hearts.

“Son, take women, grab wine and don’t you look behind for time will go by fast”,

Are the advices of the wise.

The days of real and true love are revoked and only our wellspring and ancestor hold the keys to such transcendence;

True love is in decay, fueled by the decadence of our near meaningful existence.

One day in disdain,

We will speak of True Love as a myth for it will be extinct,

A mere legend, turn bedtime story for our offspring.

By

Gael K.Somayire.

A walk in darkness

The day I lost you was the day light was taken from me,

And in darkness I was bonded to be,

Alone without a shadow for company.

Dead man walking…everybody said at the sight of me,

I was a leper whose skin was a reflection of his very own soul;

I was content with my situation since you were no more.

Blind to feelings,

I lost sight of happiness.

Melancholy accompanied me wherever I went,

And decay of my soul I slowly underwent.

I was shackled to the troubles of earth and couldn’t escape this fate.

I watched the diligences,

As they were coming for the utopian to take them to a place called hope.

But I couldn’t hop on it for hope was a distant relative I lost touch with,

And related we didn’t seem to be no more.

I walked in dusk,

Finding comfort in the shadow of the light,

And far away from dawn.

My name became a faded echo,

For they knew me as shade,

A wondering spirit in ache.

By

Gael K. Somayire.

The fate of the Gemini

Born under the stars,

The Divinities chose the Gemini to be mine,

Guide me under the skies.

Cursed with two sides, one good, one bad.

Two souls forever battling to take control of one mind;

My fate was sealed uncertain.

They all love the Gemini;

So they speak.

I was in love with the Aries,

But she chose the Aquarius, for he was sovereignty.

Left with two souls in ache and one heart in pain,

My prophecy was to wonder around the zodiac,

In search of a mate that would change my fate,

But intimate we shall never get.

That is my fate,

Forever loveless because the Gods wrath

Wrote my path,

The path of the twin,

Bound with two souls and one heart;

The fate of the Gemini.

By

Gael K. Somayire.