Comments Posted By Milad
Displaying 1 To 30 Of 345 Comments
uhohh get rid of that alarm clock,
it’s just another screen,
and in your face,
Use a brick and morder
your life is ready,
let’s get it stocked.
Laugh, feel the thunderous,
bubble coming over,
you like a typoon for a titration,
it’s a revelation,
when we make eachother’s day,
and avoid and sway,
from making this into just another day,
keep it classical.
» Posted By Milad On 01.15.2019 @ 7:41 am
The Crucifix was a classical symbol of sacred death,
in today’s fast moving world,
a willow tree and a deep breathe,
can be a stretch.
A human is not like a house,
after it is dilapidated,
it can be renovated,
plugged into the an outlet of positivity,
» Posted By Milad On 01.14.2019 @ 7:37 am
A baroque focus,
Napolean put in,
he’s twisted in thought,
but readily he fought.
A strategist with a map,
his enemies couldn’t see through his x,y,z plans,
and ran laps.
» Posted By Milad On 01.09.2019 @ 8:48 am
the good luck haven,
sending out products priced tagged at random numbers,
a business haven,
we set 99 cents,
and call it the only,
they set 88 cents,
and feel like
that products solid in solidarity,
» Posted By Milad On 01.07.2019 @ 7:44 am
As we weave into the thoughts of humanity,
we brink onto the mental slides of reality,
one blue pill-seed,
one red pill-seed,
In a mosaic way,
she likes to stray,
he makes a move to stay,
right in front of her moving lips,
dropping jokes and tips.
He questions as he sips his morning mocha latte,
and whispers to himself,
will the bottom of this latte,
have the answers to her questions?
A thought he’ll never know,
unless he networks enough,
to get a taste,
of the winds of diversity.
So many colors, so many shades,
the only way to find his hue,
is to pay his due(s),
and socialize passively-agreesivley,
and come about,
anew. A constant yet pleasant struggle
in forces of life.
» Posted By Milad On 01.02.2019 @ 10:12 am
I want to you feel something,
shall we get away into the dark,
of the dance floor,
and get thin,
shall we crawl the night,
like were shadows of the dim.
With my hesitation,
I lost your temptation,
and now were both recollecting our lives
outside of this room,
let’s feel something,
do I need to show you something?
Shall I circle back into the light,
and bring you back into my fighting might;
my body is right,
tell me its not,
girl its right,
follow me and I’ll take you there,
or else this will be the last you’ll hear from me!
» Posted By Milad On 12.28.2018 @ 9:49 pm
I’m banking on friendship,
do I let the thought of marriage jostle me into the jewelry store?
My friends and I ride,
the magnetic railways out to LA every Saturday,
although I love her, should I share a sandwhich with
her that never ends,
not the foot long,
the bread that never stops growing, yeeaahhh, yeahhh.
If I rely on her like bees do pollen,
maybe she’ll like it,
and I will too,
I just want the most happiness for me and you,
and her and I.
On this marquee I stand,
she holds a glass of wine,
my buddy Ryan stands right next to herr, yeahhh yahh,
she my oleander,
Ryan my fellow Neander,
shall we give up the LA heart felt talks,
where we aimlessly meander,
for my oleander,
to plant in the same,
and start to coil,
» Posted By Milad On 12.20.2018 @ 8:12 am
Your mind is like a software,
it can be programmed,
you the creator,
that seeks no harm,
only meek smiles,
and aware eyes of an owl.
Joyance is up to the puppet–
not the puppeteer.
» Posted By Milad On 12.19.2018 @ 7:54 am
They say no harm, no foul,
but I get a penalty everytime,
anyone else but me is referring me.
Harm is conducive to that go getter’s daily jostle,
I’m not sure why I’m writing, if its for the sake of the word,
or the hustle.
I came up short when I peered into my bank account,
anything less than a million,
felt like negative trillion.
Success is the best when unripe,
To enjoy the fruits bestowed by a tree,
one must suffocate, before one can replicate.
» Posted By Milad On 12.17.2018 @ 3:00 pm
builders, are society’s backbone.
We once sought to build breathe,
upon coming afloat for air,
out of that fresh yet old whom,
we called home.
We’ve built a home now,
for all our worries
now we blow,
like light autumn leaves,
whispering through dry air,
for a greener grass
to rest thy head.
» Posted By Milad On 12.08.2018 @ 12:20 pm
The Japanese Noblemen, sits down
seem to pine,
for the women,
of his dreams.
He languishes Calbee
reserves anguish for
even deliciousness can be missed.
under the sun,
all run, from his judgmental gums.
Then one day, after
for longer than
water wells up
from his eyes,
sought his stormy bliss,
from the storm
and he realized
» Posted By Milad On 06.03.2018 @ 9:50 am
The mutuality of my apartment’s mundane garden
that waves hello, and high fives me, is left hanging
oftentimes when the winds of pertinent desires
blow me off into my vehicle.
One day though, a host, of golden daisy’s, prostrates my attention.
Were they daisies? or were they daffodils?
Whomever they be, they began to dance like a salsa club amplifier.
A neighbor’s child prances by, and gesticulates, ” daisy”,
pointing at the seemingly mundane garden. A lizard walks on through,
as green as can be, beckons I lean in for a closer look.
Everyday thereafter, when I walked by, I now knew Daisies were planted
there, right in front of my speedy-on the go pupils.
» Posted By Milad On 05.28.2018 @ 10:51 am
In only 4 minutes,
the clamp of love,
can be rhapsodized,
any topsy turvy turbulence in life can be,
flipped upside down,
like burger on the grill.
Music is, a part of life,
that make us fly out of the trenches,
pay the rent,
of your vocal box,
and watch yourself soar like,
a bobolink in the Northern Americas.
The power of effort is a mighty power plant,
that charges up electric ryhmes,
that strive to wave through,
when you smile and cry,
and dial and write,
austerity can be our best friend if we befriend it.
» Posted By Milad On 01.22.2018 @ 8:24 am
Oh what an austierty, I haven’t much,
not as much usual,
so what, I’d rather be awake,
a real rake,
of what’s stake, out there, for me chew up
and make my own.
To profligate over nonsensical suppressible mistakes,
overtakes what my next move is so I create
instead of hate.
» Posted By Milad On 12.04.2017 @ 8:19 am
A courtesan, approaches you,
and its just a mirage, a past dream,
that was brought to you during the day,
so you dived in,
you fell right into the lap
of the devil,
now you’re in trouble,
your feeling the stubble,
let it burn, like usher did,
and you’ll churn the pleasure of waiting,
like a russian kid did,
when alcholol fled them.
» Posted By Milad On 11.30.2017 @ 11:51 pm
The streak of learning never stops,
the screeches of yearning never haults,
we just happen to be human beings,
always on a feign,
until we’re crushed
like a smore under high atmospheric pressure;
I don’t get stressed out any more because I am my own mood’s lever;
a whiff of freshness, a gasp of a hellish,
Angel hot dog on a bun, with extra relish,
any Angeleno. Despite their mind’s level,
Without education, a wingless bird,
flapping into a misty destiny,
where in the end, we know,
that we will ultimately resent thee.
» Posted By Milad On 11.28.2017 @ 12:41 pm
I suppose as the child
we all feel like we need be wild
the grasshopper can only hop around a meadow
for so long
The rivera is where all the locusts stay,
and I always keep an open mind at bay,
when it comes to giving birth to a new thought,
or a new thought,
for my own child,
Get her a violion for christmas,
and she’ll dismiss,
all the hatred
steamed up within her,
child or adult,
we all need soulful stimulation,
because the most endeavors parts of us,
can be the most purgatory parts of us,
bliss that’s out there awaiting,
like King Arthur’s sabre.
» Posted By Milad On 11.10.2017 @ 5:07 pm
the lobbisyts in my brain
from any pain
because what’s inside the cerebelum is a militia,
that’s ready to milk and thrust,
like ghostbusters when they’re on a hunt
for the next ghostly skunk that roams
in an area where politicians chew up other politicans,
into nothing but bones,
its just the way city goers dwell,
press refresh quickly,
its time to get well
digging into the well.
» Posted By Milad On 10.12.2017 @ 10:32 pm
The juveline garnered a new found golf hat,
he found himself triumphing his own new swing,
hole in 7
then hole in 6
then hole in 5,
no longer a juvenile,
he began to run wild,
run wild with successive nuance
to his life,
his drawer that once was a mess of fabric,
a grubby, undesirable scrap yard of broken memories,
was now becoming the Florida Riviera.
Beauteous and countless divine spirit,
he broke free of his regard for delinquency,
because of a simple ingredient:
» Posted By Milad On 10.06.2017 @ 7:55 am
Irritable, garrulous, kids running,
around in the apartment court yeard,
lets eat a bannaa,
the fruit will chill you out,
leave your smile in a river-ran drout,
A grubby day that doesn’t let go like a leech suckling on doomsday,
heals with the power of love,
go grab a kiss,
from a loved one,
your top stun,
will be a chocolate kiss,
and I’m not talking about hersheys,
I’m talking about eating pure choclate,
while admonishing pure love,
like its the only candy in the store, that’s in store for you.
» Posted By Milad On 09.27.2017 @ 9:52 am
The garrulous chatter in my head,
mixes up like cake batter underneath the gusty wind,
with every tornado, there’s a butter fly, that makes it through,
if all i could do in life was be optimistic,
then I’d be at heart, truly pessmiistic,
every one plus sign comes along with 7 negative signs,
as humans we have to acknowledge that every
encounter with a frown,
means we must leave the sanitarian counteance,
with 7 smiles,
into the beachy peachy pearls of the sun,
chipper sun dial,
is the trial,
we end in,
if were relentless,
with our thoughts and knicks,
in the end well be freed into bliss.
» Posted By Milad On 09.25.2017 @ 4:52 am
There’s a gravitational field,
where thou must yield,
because even though a horse wants to chomp on a carrot,
that doesn’t mean the horse need clomp over another horse,
there’s always more beets,
on other streets,
there’s always more hay,
The first instinct is one to listen to,
the second is one to glisten your tongue,
and prepare to speak through,
the third is an itch that must be scratched by another,
whether it be a hindering neimisis, or your brother.
» Posted By Milad On 09.23.2017 @ 8:25 am
fields in business, require expiation,
its a revelation, of a sensation,
that one gets when they connect with another,
the warm, feeling you get in your esophagus when you drink coffee;
stimulated and part of an impetus of righteous ethics,
and then visualize, all these party people,
up on a cloud, together,
and never quail their endeavour to attain endeavours!
» Posted By Milad On 09.23.2017 @ 8:20 am
what if a good morning message
came to your desk of thought,
would you become bought?
by the bliss,
that’s there to dismiss,
all the toxic fish,
floundering in your dish,
then when the ocean goes silent,
as you were drowsing off to a cervine divine in the peaceful woods,
and a pigeon clawed down a message written on a small log,
would you sleep on the log,
until you logged off into dreams?
or would you bite your teeth until you had TMJ,
like a blue bird, knawing on a worm that’s made from clay?
» Posted By Milad On 09.16.2017 @ 9:34 am
when eye contact hardly stutters,
its a gutter feeling, when someone else is bored
of feeling a tooth that’s been pulled,
harder than a hunter on a bore,
most of the time, if the ryhme,
of the eyes, cement and bequeth
onto another pair,
then we can dare,
that moment of attraction,
but if here and there,
then then and here,
eyes begin to wander,
use the art of visage,
and acknowledge boredom has come,
time is now beginning to squander!
» Posted By Milad On 09.16.2017 @ 9:23 am
The bark in the tree shuddered,
as if it was qualied by the wind,
Owls perforated maple trees,
the wind perforated Owls;
The purgatory prowls of owls,
as the chipper sun overcame the wind.
» Posted By Milad On 09.15.2017 @ 8:11 am
The broken terrace shudders in sheer frozen bark,
marigold visage lies,
yet wears chiffon gilded with gold!
» Posted By Milad On 09.07.2017 @ 7:54 am
I quail through the land of buisness;
and see that computers are zombies on this playing field,
humans are the baloons in the ambiance
that make up the color
of most flanels in the room
and ready to vroom
People, make a money movement, not pcs.
Thoughts actions and values,
are a tribute,
to the new boot, that has my name written all over it,
until money begins to dump.
» Posted By Milad On 09.05.2017 @ 5:22 am
Just because her mind is on a terrace
with no shoulders,
up on a boulder,
somewhere where pressure even gets smoldered,
every minute she’s aging,
she’s feeling colder,
but sabre’s from my words perforated,
into her mind,
like wind into water waves,
If I don’t use music,
or use my words,
she’s loose it,
here I am to navigate and pave new pathways!
» Posted By Milad On 09.02.2017 @ 1:42 pm
Back To Stats Page
I swooned into the streets of LA
from Long Beach,
now I’m prepped to teach,
how we in LB never leach,
here to reach,
for the heavens,
like snoop did, when he was puffing at eleven,
the marigold return is what
Im driving back with,
here to click clack my radio knob in,
» Posted By Milad On 08.29.2017 @ 5:53 am