Quiet Storm

Touch me where I cry

Its neither my heart

Nor what you see inside my eyes

I used my flames to melt it outside

Ignite you to pieces

Let’s feel it all fall apart within our beasts

Let your belief hit my philosophy

And when it’s all said and done

What’s left to be engraved within our heart’s beat?

What should I do as you pin me under your soul and secrets

I’m wrapped inside of your goals and dreams somewhere to breathe in

We’re falling to our little death

On the deep end

Oh what a magnanimous creation

About last weekend

Penned by Phoenix of The South

©2022 Keota D. Picou


Did You Read My “Trilogy” Dream Post? Well look what I’ve found..


Here’s the link to my previous post



Requirements were logically created

It is expected that we prove oneself

Understandably yet overstated

Circumstances designed parallels

It’s much needed but poorly communicated

The woke swears full efforts we extend

Silently bestowed

But intentions are jaded

Time clocked It’s ticking

Life tip toes into fading

Mouths rock in rhythm

As vibes tickle sweet nothings needed

But fate is

Half religion

Half what you need to perceive it

Seems per word type of easy

Feels good

When you’re inside the game

It’s school

It’s still the popular kids amongst the Emo freaks

But it’s all cool

“We good”

A different year

But you’re the same human

Just searching and finding decorated groups

A crew

We call it a cause

Degrees feel good

Except when it drowns out

Your trauma

Back then wounds

Your lost while you’re making moves

It was heavy

‘Til you pledged

So your owners could bury all your moods

The thoughts

The feelings

The chase

The race we run

Success is sweet

When you earn it huh?

You’ve paid your dues

We get the gist of it

But the rest is all a blur

The bigger picture feels like a fetch

By now

Consumers to be consumed

We live in the height of it

So rich

So happy

So smooth

So honored


Penned by Phoenix of The South

©2021 Keota D. Picou

I Decided To Research and Interpret

On June 15, 2021 I posted about a dream I had. There were some points that stuck out more than the others. I revisited the dream once I felt ready to look into it in August 15. The word Trilogy that would give information on a cure to what was happening in that dream and the pinky finger of the person which was gangrene or necrotizing (decaying for those who don’t know). I’m merely sharing my findings from the messages ringing in my mind.

Update: Thursday afternoon September 9th.

The Trilogy (dream revisited)

A dream of mine that I had over a month ago(typing on August 15, 2021) that I’m finally ready to delve into

My children and I were in this facility that resembled a hotel. Each family had their own room. We were only allowed to travel outdoors during the day. As a different set of humans were allowed to travel during the night. The night was high alert and very dangerous.

What was sad about this is that my kids father, my partner whom I refuse to marry no matter how many times he proposed (as you know if you read my poetry, especially about devouring the ring), happen to be a part if the night group of humans. But something strange was happening. We would look at each other through the windows as he stood outside on the sidewalk. I noticed what seemed to be necrosis or gangrene forming on his pinky finger. We discussed as much as we were allowed with the time that we had. I had to drive East to find the Trilogy. A set of three books, articles, or maybe pages that could reverse what was happening to these people who had taken something.

Were these three books sold to the masses as a fictional series? Or what was the meaning behind Trilogy.

Patchouli and Chanel

It was hot when I met you

It was cold when I fell

I thought I drowned in your water

Instead I was baptized inside of My Well

So much I learned of your crashing tides

The beauty of Earth I could smell

I thought I was wrapped inside of your love

Turns out I was anointed with My Chanel

Penned By Phoenix of The South

©2021 Keota D. Picou

Photo Credit:Keota D. Picou