Inspirational quotes by N'zuri Za Austin.
Star light, Star brightFirst star I see tonight…I whispered your name to a star last nightSoftly, yet so boldI closed my eyes, and saw your faceI spoke those words untoldI wish I may, I wish I mightIt shouted from my soulHave this wish, I wish tonightThe wish I can't let go...
They took one look at me,And hated my black face.They took one look at me,And decided on my fate.They took one look at me,And forced an unknown fear.They took one look at me,And caused the shed of tears.They took one look at me,And decided I was wrong.They took one look at me,And now I'm singing the slave mans song...
Bruised, beaten, shaken, weakened, tossed, thrown, lost, alone, heard, helped, healed, hope... it still works.
If you say something as if it were, that isn't, is it considered a lie, or speaking it into existence?
unheard and unseen { protected } from the vision of whatwe would look cute togetherreally means words do{ lie } amongst thelol’s and just kiddings{ hearts } lay awakedreaming nightmares of unicorns disguised as demonschase away{ hope } causing it to remain
Your heart beats between the palm of my hand.Its need to beOne with meDripsBetween my fingertipsAs I squeeze perfect drops of love into small receptacles to be preserved...For later. ☕️
Tickle my heart with your pen. Write me for all to read. Bind our love inside a book. Make me your poetry.
I don't want what love is. I want what love is supposed to be.
Can still windmills, still produce wind? Can a heart still love, when a heart no longer is?
Tonight, can we just pretend that you want me too?
Tonight, can we just pretend you want me too?
As a man thinketh so is he? The faith of a mustard seed? I planted these words in my thoughts, and still, mind wound up lost, between my dreams and reality.
I write amongst the stars, and the canvased paper moon. I paint the fields of green, sprinkling morning dew. I teach the birds to sing, a tweet, a tweet, times two. And when my busy day is done, I dream sweet dreams of you.
Your heart beats against the palm of my hand.Its need to beOne with meDripsBetween my fingertipsAs I squeeze perfect drops of love into small receptacles to be preserved...For later. ☕️
Tickle my heart with your pen. Write me for all to read. Bind our love inside a book. Make me, your poetry.
I'd give you my heart, but you'd just give it back, so I'll give you my words instead.
Twas the night before Christmas And the moon was sitting high The kids were in bed, Kissed and snuggled in tight The gifts were all wrapped There was love in the air It only came once So it was handled with careThe curtains were drawn The cookies were bit It was time to blow out All those candles we’d litThe kids would soon wake With laughter in their hearts We had a big day ahead And early it would startLaughter’s and squeals Jumps on the bed Screaming, “Get up”! “Get up!” as they fledWrappings and ribbons Thrown everywhere“Oh, I love you Mom and Dad!”Neither did spareFamily arrives, Carolers sing Stories were told Of childhood memories This was true loveTrue love was in the air And it only came once So it was handled with careNow the gifts have been opened And the food is all gone The songs were all sung And the guests have gone homeIt was time to get back To life’s normal things It was time to put away All that the holidays bringYou'll go to your office She'll go to her room He'll reach for his game I guess I'll grab the broom Christmas had come And Christmas had went It only comes once a year But it is time well spent
Once upon a time, is how stories begin...
Nothing, is what it appears to be, when it's only with your eyes you see.
the caress of each word becoming one with the pagetwisting beneath the touch of the pen forming a trail of permanent kisses until they reach me
Paint me perfect poetry.
Poetry without words, you are, the beat to my hearts rhythm.
i often sit and wonderi often sit and dreami often sit and waitfor the one that’s just for me i search the many facesin the crowds of people i see exploring, seeking,looking for, the one that it could be.is it Mister Blue Collar? is it Mister Too Clean? is it Mister Holy Onewhich was made for me? then i stop and thinkof the biggest catastrophe -what if this man i’m waiting fordoesn’t even recognize me?-LostInACrowd
even in death, his last breath was poetryexisting in the wind and on the breeze of"it used to be likes" forever remembering,yet never relivinghis lifewill never be what it used to be like.
Tonight, can we just pretend you want me to?
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