Paul Noel Cimino
Bio
I am a spontaneous spiritual artist
I seek to find answers in the art and writing I create.
I like to express it to my heart and make it come true.
Stories (42/0)
Dark Glow
I carry the loose change of what I am looking for. I believe all the colors will blend together. Where the light has no name, I follow the sun to see her gone. To reach out and touch the flame without a name. To feel the light of the dust cloud on my face, when I go there. Turning to rust, trampled in dust, to burn out with you is all I can do.
By Paul Noel Cimino4 years ago in Poets
Freedom with a Tear
Going to try on what to do when my love is away, I feel okay. At first sight and to turn out the light, nothing is real. This easy street, with a lot better place to be, with my friends is at the cafe. Each melody recalls what used to be. As warm as May, and she used to care, when love was new. Each caress of my freedom that dragged a tear, I know.
By Paul Noel Cimino4 years ago in Poets
Sunshine Hour
Air conditioned hour, came to go hang loose glow. Within there as a wind of a phony, blow. A bell for an hour throughout the parking lot dirty, thirty, cars at play with each other, in the lovely backseat, in the parking-lot parking I imagine an hour. And she got a lot to show off. Her naked leather, treat me with a moan desire on equipment equalizer, standard equator zone-
By Paul Noel Cimino4 years ago in Poets
Public Parking—Fantastic Love Affair
In a beeping between the buttons there is to show on this day to a sunshine hour. A ray among the light of fluffy -clouds, being bear aroused. And we sweat to these flowers. And between the car seats in the backseat so neat your feet, on the gas pedal of heat. That it’s theatrical drama living in color, loving vibrations between us slower. In our hour of blu, so I can tell you that you are of the moon burning shower.
By Paul Noel Cimino4 years ago in Poets
A Police Story
A dishonest cop! A liar and his partner both, cheat to death and play chicken on March 6, 2014. In the city of swaying palm trees and rainbows, it’s a disgrace. As their pistol is caught between ther legs, it’s a sick! Those, the two cops are a couple of Pricks.....
By Paul Noel Cimino4 years ago in Poets
Devine Colour
Start writing... Admire the tune of perfume performance throughout the color, during this blessed, adoring hour. Devine swept the collision of Earth and Moon, of real and restless blues. Blessed are to be nameless colours, any sweet soft parade of confusion, and love without a tune. Let me tell you... something of a color that is true. And isn't it there in paradise to every room? l call it Devine. Clear and bright in the sound unto play it everywhere, like midnight flower. With a tune, devine today more than before. Nothing new shining through down unto burn the ground. Way up in the sky as I sit by my Fire🔥I hear a sweet call and I have been saved... this very hour. I am blessed with An Aloha Flower.
By Paul Noel Cimino4 years ago in Poets
Devine
Sincerely, that she is coming to tea in the moment, and leaving me at night—like a hibiscus cloud is on fire. I feel free with no use there is to desire. And, the wind cries like a wine. I found a picture of her to light up the time. And, to the magic world at night, it rains to a splashing tune. The golden chain, to her eyes as they descend like butterflies into the light. I appear with a golden lei to the city of Hale O Honolulu. “A toast” To The Golden Chain, locked up in a lei, in a glass with a wine... to write her name–
By Paul Noel Cimino4 years ago in Poets
Stone Wall Stare
A passion nightmare, and I see it all so clear. Nothing but shattered dreams she calls to me, woman so weary. The torment is, that in the weight of a stare. Disappear in the road before, and lead me here, to recognize the weight of her stare. Was I to blame for being unfair? A long long time to be waiting here, the stone glare. At the edge of the path a psycho at hand, the path where you held out your hand.
By Paul Noel Cimino4 years ago in Poets
Honolulu Tropics
As the Sun has taken its rest, I have my holidays at last. To lay back, and dream to a tropic night violet bright. She is doing fine and, independent beautiful with a serene light of total day to be still. Raining, and still dreaming, sunlight, and sipping my tea.
By Paul Noel Cimino4 years ago in Poets