Green eyes


-Green eyes-

I did not tell you to quit,
I did not tell you to stop,
I did not say “Don’t dream big”
You chose to give in,
You decided to flop.
Profusely pissed,
I hear your disdainful hiss,
As you watch me climb the top.

You’re angry at me because you gave up and I did not.

Like a lava cone
About to disrupt,
The hate makes you ill,
No Will,
to conceal,
The jealous and envy,
that oozes from your gut.

You’re angry at me because “half empty” you left your cup…

And I chose to fill mine up.

-Andrea L’Artiste copyright 2017

Next to the energy that emanates from the Sun, there is only one real magic. It lies within the visual Artist. When one can take an empty space and create something beautiful, It is not just Art, It’s ‘Magic’-Andrea L’Artiste




I decided to write you a little note.
I know,
I’m not the mushy type.
I’m sure this may come as a surprise.
But that night on the sofa,
In November,
I looked into your eyes.
You looked into mine,
We were like
In time.
It felt as if,
We drifted together,
To a place that only granted access
To us.
A place where we could simply
Express our love.
Without saying a word.
In that moment,
I was cleared.
All of my Troubles,
And Worries,
Had all Disappeared.
My mind was at ease,
And My heart,
…was pleased.
In that moment,
I knew,
That I was finally free.
In that moment,
I knew,
There was nowhere,
And with No one else
I wanted to be.
But with you,
Embracing Love.





The scent he wore,
It smelled like,
A brand new love and that first time.
Like your favorite home-cooked-
fresh off the stove,
with steam,
still rising…
Like a Heavy rain,
on a hot summer night,
As it reshapes into tiny water particles,
to catch a ride,
on an occasional gentle wind,
pushing itself through the window,
and rests,
On the bare body.
His scent was called,
Excite. ~Andrea L’Artiste


The enslaved mind


The Enslaved mind,
Will escape some day.
It’ll find a hole in the wall,
A crack in the window,
A flaw in the gate.
The enslaved mind does not know it is captured,
It doesn’t feel the invisible chains, the ropes or the shackles.
The bricks that are used as weights to keep it from ascending
Paralyzed, pinned, like a footprint trapped in concrete, cemented.
The enslaved mind, doesn’t see anything wrong.
Everything is right.
The Sunday worship, tithes to the Pastor,
Prayers to its God,
Morning, noon, and night.
Who are you worshipping?
The question asked of curiosity,
Is it the one who cannot, or ‘unwilling’ to prevent atrocities?
But the enslaved mind is incapable of explaining its faith,
Ask it to describe its God, and the response is,
All seeing, All knowing, the one who creates.
The one who blesses me, and wakes me in the morning.
Is it the same one who kills 9 million children each year? (Isaiah 45:7)
Some with cancers, and some with no warning?
Or is it the one you still have not seen?
Not in your home, your car, your church, not even in your dreams.
The enslaved mind will create illusions. It doesn’t realize the real lies, it was programmed to do this. -Andrea L’Artiste copyright