Friday, November 28, 2014

The Sweet Smell

The sweet smell fills the room leaving an aftertaste
I inhale it's presence with intensions of intoxication
Wondering how the rest of it would TASTE in slow and gentle consumption.

The sound sweeps the quiet in this room
I filter it with intentions of reproduction
Wondering how the rest of it would SOUND in whispers of seduction

The warmth heats my skin like the transition from a cold room into the sun.
I devour the feeling with intensions of innocent corruption
Wondering how the rest of it would FEEL in smooth and tight contraction

The presence embodies the space
My vision captures it with intentions
of rendition.
Wondering how the rest of it would MOVE in spontaneous position.


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kaleidoscope Eyes

He had kind eyes, that's what did it for me. I could tell he looked at the world from the inside out. His gaze acted like a boomerang, projecting intentions while collecting information tainted with his own perceptions and opinions. I'm certain they were kind. I wondered if I had looked directly into them, would it have been like looking into a kaleidoscope. You know, like in the Beatles song. I write about him as though he no longer exist; it's just as so, I'm positive I'll never see him again. All I have is a picture I took that day as my eyes casted their own boomerang. They collected an image depicting a man with kind kaleidoscope eyes. A gentile face imprinted with a smile now ridged, paralyzed, translucent, with less detail from the moment I took it. I wonder how long it will take the image to fade or be replaced by another captivating face.


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Inner Workings of my Mind

Tongue painting colors too bright to digest.
Truths depicted that would otherwise mix into rotten ideas on the walls of my head.
Swirling around in debate as to whether or not play dead or fly like a moth to a flame attached to the sun.
Landing in a pile of ash from the heat of judgment lay the aftermath of my best secrets kept worst.
Realizing the swirling debate is...
Best kept "in the inner workings of my mind"
(C) Elizabeth Zsamboki


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Memories

Memories are tucked away in tiny boxes in our minds, some collecting dust, while others never given the chance. Make the ones you open be those that make you smile not keep you in the past, or you will be the one collecting dust and never giving life a chance.


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I'd Like To Know

Id like to know...
Is it because you see yourself in the reflection of my eyes?
Is it because you hear yourself in the echo of my questions?
Is it because you feel free in the gap that I've allowed?
Is it because my hands are wet from your tears?
Do you wait for me only to feel yourself walking?
Do you look for me only to find yourself?
Do you touch me only to pay the toll to keep me coming back?
Do you smile because I can't stop mine from forming?
I'd like to think it's the color and shape of my eyes.
I'd like to think it's the sound and inflection of my voice
I'd like to think it's the strength of my independence
I'd like to think it's the gentleness of my heart.
I'd like to think it's my smile, laugh, and character.
I'd like to think it's all of me you're finding.
I'd like to think it's my warmth your wanting.
I'd like to hope you'll be the one that's asking.
I'd like to hope you'll be the one that's reaching.
I'd like to hope you'll find me after you've swallowed all of who you are
I'd like to hope you'll have an appetite and I am what it's craving.
For once I'd like to KNOW...


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Beautiful Contradiction

Drowning in the fears of others.
Negativity grasping at my ankles,
pulling my spirits into a corner.
Inundated with questions, demands, and accusations.
Reaching for answers to questions
prematurely plastered.
It is my happiness Im after, not fulfilling dreams casted on by others.
Am I mistaken to follow the golden rule of loving unconditionally without regret and expectations?
I chose to drown in faith, hope, and courage.
In his grace, I ask for the strength to help us emerge with beautiful contradiction.


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The Moon


Although you are always there, translucent blending in with the baby-blue light
The sun, blinding all the beauty of the night
I wait for you in anticipation as the sun dips behind the ridge, surrendering the sky
I witness the twinkles beginning to reveal as though waiting for your permission to appear.
I watch as your glow gently illuminates the dark sky
Gazing as though believing in it I will see the shape of your eyes
Convinced that the beauty of it's light reflects from the center of your disguise.
(C) Elizabeth Zsamboki

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