what sort of thing are you hiding? What sort of thing need you hide? mr. hyde?
i art man
the name is savvy, I am a writer. Innately my speech was brought about with early poetic upbringing. That is to say the inner voice my child self heard was one with witty versus and clever rhymes. the panache of good style and verve. Yes, I am a writer, a young one at that. I have a fondness for things that prove themselves true, original and even more so things that prove themselves truly beautiful. all such things have my undivided attention.
i love my wafers.
I love my coffee.
I once had thirteen (13) cups of straight blackness,
[in one sitting] my heart never beat so swiftly.
I love the afghan girl's (Sharbat Gula) eyes.
They go beyond your typical spellbinding peepers.
I love honey.
a second sunshine in your mouth.
I love the sound of old typewriters.
music to a writer's ears.
I love dictionaries.
I love to write.
My current goals are to write three (3) major motion picture screenplays this year. The works I am currently working on:
a trip
johnny voila
playboys
1.0 BETA WORLD & .5 ROM (Record of Man)
and so...
I aknowledge 'wonderment' as my first love. A fact that stands due to my soul's possessional of a 'gypsy heart.'
I was put here to tell a story, for the simple reason that I see the story in everything.
There is a world that lives on.
On a different wavelength of odd reality,
Things are manifested differently.
What we may read in a poem is more alike their world.
The subject of scars is the theme of this short.
There lives a boy, his name is Johnny.
Johnny lives in a magical place.
A young man with such a lovely face,
A lover, passion driven person from his heart that is.
Of course like the many stories we become in our young.
He suffered a heart break... now his scar tissue exclaims
his yesterday's fun.
Now is over.
Yes... the scar tissue that I wish you saw.
Is the state of his pupils in all,
For when his heart broke, out came forth a certain acid blend.
So often he did cry in woes of his sweet lover's "goodbye."
That the acid made it's way to his eyes and erased the color to fade.
Now when passersby make their glance,
it seems true that a world of heartbreak has took their stance
and into the records of his citizenship is his name along with this
description: Long lover's pass, run went her with his heart,
ill favored dance.
-savvy r.
Unalike the protagonist of my short I am not so easily caught up in things that are manifested in emotion. Though that doesn't mean that I am entirely robotic, I have me a soul mate or two. An ode and bow I give them daily, of course while alone and in my most secret of places is where I uphold there sacred worth.
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