Phantasm

Reflections of sadness
Through an amazing third eye creep
Producing futile lucidness
As magic abandons my dream
Catching your ghost in my workspace
No matter how unreal – Quaking –
Meeting craziness head-on

© Amina Caprice Andolini 2017

Cherry-Pink Metropolis

imagining the wind…
as rough as every seed
in its long, pale clutches
shaking in the wake of
its pink lethargic change
and her delicate mind
realizes the shift

to cherry-pink metropolis

and she realizes…
it doesn’t include the
blast of her symphony
it doesn’t include the
blast of her abundance
it doesn’t include the
blast of her breezy soul

to cherry-pink metropolis

the original crew…
from the soggy outback
to new reality
their words make little sense
to her delicate mind
covered in cherry-pink
imagining the new

© 2017 Amina Caprice Andolini

Unstable ((Short Prose))

Utopian Puzzle Piece
I am knocking on a door to another dimension.  I am speaking to the Spirit Beings who dine on inadequate flesh and fear energy, on the materialistic aspect of the World and all its lower dimensional kinfolk.  I am knocking at your door – don’t deny my abundance.

As of now, I am unfamiliar with your tactics; however, I would like to decipher its ferocious peaks and echelons, its sharp horned heads and enormous wingspan, its misshapen mouths and buttocks; I would like to decipher those things and more in totality.  They are neither good nor bad in my reality.  I am knocking – don’t deny my abundance.

I wish to understand a stronger sense of self-worth, and peek inside the insatiable need to kick the well being of other brothers to the unfeeling portion of intelligence.  Perhaps I can find a balance between the emotional and the poker faced.  Perhaps I can finally know the true meaning of nirvana.  Perhaps I will find my Utopian puzzle piece.  I am knocking…

© 2017 Amina Caprice Andolini

The Invisible Tribe
this is for the Beings who desire nothing in particular: I vibe with your frame of mind.  It is as if we’re an invisible tribe – congregating at our designated grid points, conversing over fruity tea, sandwiches and little cakes.

© 2017 Amina Caprice Andolini

No Bloody Eyes 👀

How’d the shadows know
Of her rapid transformation?
Rapid tarots read
Of her rapid transformation.
How’d the shadows know
Of her twisted, bloody lies?
How’d the shadows know
When they have no bloody eyes?

© 2017 Amina Caprice Andolini

Ignorant Oblivion

Rolling rock inside her hands
Dripping like obsidian
Twisting round inside her head
All around the winderlands
Waves arise in dead of night
Fighting round oblivion
Crashing brashly near her shore
Sandy pink oblivion

Breaks arise outside pastel
Feeding on her sleeping shell
Lying in oblivion –
Ignorant oblivion

Rooting round extremely well,
Consciousness can never tell,
Dripping like obsidian
Lying in oblivion –
Ignorant oblivion

© 2017 Amina Caprice Andolini

Famous Heart

Veiled from birth to middle-aged
Staging her “malevolence”
Hence her rapid, greenish glow
Growing underneath of it
Though she’s s worth the tower change
Danger’s still so prominent
Hence her rapid, greenish glow
Growing underneath of it

© 2017 Amina Caprice Andolini

 

Consider This #1…

Internal negative energies/dark forces masquerade as Light, which is why it’s extremely hard for some people to know the differences between enlightened and unenlightened information.  To put it bluntly, some people cater to too many demons.  They are blind; they honestly don’t know the difference between the Light and the Dark.  SIMPLE SOLUTION: Get rid of internal demons by finding God/Unconditional Love within.  We all have God’s Truth/His Word written within…

With Proper Respect

To have several seats – And sweep challenges away
Are challenges not met with proper respect

To stand & greet challenges – Like the illusions they are
Are challenges met with proper respect

((👽 by Amina Caprice Andolini 👽))

In His Crazy Light

The secret puzzle hidden in your name,
Is the most fragrant blossom I suppose,
The moon’s flow is apt for this grand bouquet,
Of magnificent works of hopeless prose.
Composed for the likes of your Higher Self,
Though prose could never offer true acclaim,
Repeating patterns of the number twelve,
Raises awareness, strange pains, and heartache.
Deriving from the heart space are visions,
Past the dense Earth’s air, they have not changed much,
Said events push forth by the Universe.
In His crazy Light, I gladly immerse.

((by Amina Caprice Andolini 👽))