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 (43)
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Mika Song
Mika has color that is a gift of real music, this is to say that the sound of the Mika color it has a melody. Mika has only the right song in mind. She is in the light and in right mind to conduct a song. That is to say that the excellence it has been real, fair, distant, rare, and true. This is certainly right and in the sense of a song. I draw it now with the Dream of light. Truly so this is a song of the combination of the two. It is in the sound within the sense of the blues.
By Paul Noel Cimino5 years ago in Poets
Kitty Kat Corner
To be surrounded by warm caring thoughts it could be my way into the future. Slumber the nights of my life with my dreams away and be happy. And it’s a life of the thoughts of that I can finally drift awhile. I take it to sleep in the night with a prayer. A sweet delight my thoughts are in flight. Carry me to the realm of light. I’ve done my share of coming down in a deep dark night.
By Paul Noel Cimino5 years ago in Poets
Rainbow Rain
Too fall in love under the crater in the Kona Sunset beyond the color in tune with the thunder that goes out to beam. Making love one more time that shoots the comet over the tides and brings the sunset into a fine tune with the Devine rainbows is only a scene that shows how many features she has.
By Paul Noel Cimino6 years ago in Poets
In All Is Quiet City
Coming, and going all street day. I can sleep with your warm forever ways. Forever love, together love warm ways and, coming on a warm and fine winter, winter of a new decade. I thank you. Can’t let you down, to not lie, the fire in a song just ask me how it is to revive the burning. Can’t give you up, what’s been going on? A deserted city street in paradise, going home the great hot lava. Over the rainbow bluebirds fly, and she is far behind me. Too die in this wonderful city, and she is the color. Babys cry what do we know of the hotel street blue? Out in the distances, fire escape is under you. Great to be interpreted by you, and there is a, peace still; covered by you still.
By Paul Noel Cimino6 years ago in Poets
A Stone Soul Perception
In my mind there is a knowledge that reminds me the beauty of intention. Sometimes I escape to a passion outside my mind. I know that a place is in my mind. Inside of me there is a place with no sorrow, or sad tomorrow. In my mind there is no time when I am alone. I think of it Devine, as the words go around my head, the things she said. I remember to look upon the words of love, beauty without sadness. It is a feeling that is left with a thought. And that it takes me over, caught up in sorrow, lost in my soul.
By Paul Noel Cimino6 years ago in Poets
Hotel Street
She is the salt, the queen of the prime. She is the only one who’s got to choose, when it comes in tune with the time. Truths that I must be sure, that I known of this time before, with Windy, Pink, and The Sunrays Motel....Out of this ticket, on downtown Hotel St. Pink, Punk days untold. He says that she takes her city as it is to the melted ice over here in the sunlight. You’ve got to be free over me. Aloha! The trolley bell it rings at a Smiling Sun coming in tune under fire 🔥 🔥and the siren screams. Me, and Windy is smiling, and the Sun is too. Everybody! She sees the gun! Once before, and the coming of the Sun is in the city and that hotel is on fire! The police are hitting wrong notes, and her daddy said, "they took her just a little too far". Like this, the band is at Pinks Garage, from 10 to 6. When those Police knocked, her doors flew back. Riding high, and the place shocked!
By Paul Noel Cimino6 years ago in Poets
DayBreak
In the midst of this street to be, inside by my car. And, so free by my engine. That’s just to say, that it’s a good intention. At this invention of looking that way, she is my connection. And for a minute at this direction up above, and I see a glare. I’m soon to be physically, intact at my seat. Can I crawl out from under my feet, and I’m free to test my invention. The daybreak is at this stop, and up on top she stares down. And the light shines in my direction to steer to her perfection. Go that way I am near my injection. Because under the assistance of the stick could be a way to see I can crawl out my window, going to repeat over, and over again. Start my engine, it’s at this street and warm sweet. She is, under my skin. As she has taken it in. Climb out to be free tingles inside of me. Sober, living it up, at the stop, and go though, as it’s in my interest to be seduced. She is introducing my engine. Stop and go in that direction to feel the beat behind the seat. Baby buggy bumper in a rare occasion outside to the stop sign and time to stop the motor, extra hard core. Move over, rover and let he wheels take over. Beyond in thaw meat. Slider pitching a strike, hot dog!
By Paul Noel Cimino6 years ago in Poets
Back Door Caffe’
No sun coming through my window, and I’m sipping my tea. I can hear happiness on down the street, and the white truck is parked so neat. Still as it’s time to play the music in the Cafe. I see my rainbow bridge, calling me. And, it simply won’t let her be. A ticket to ride I can see, so I’m fine to see out the shady tree at a quarter to three (2:45) coming for me.
By Paul Noel Cimino6 years ago in Poets
Naturally Sacred
I will walk through this scene, had it been another day? I might go a different way. All through the jungle I hunger for a place to stay. Naturally I am faced with a dangerous circumstance, to betray the truth. Scattered visions, and be in regard to the natural Forrest of a paranoid distortion. Reality in truth, of correspondence, to my streetwise knowledge. Known of that is in Devine, open and honest. So, am here to bare to the public, as of standing trees. But, am a subject to this society without a place.
By Paul Noel Cimino6 years ago in Poets
16 Vessel Virgins
She brought me a flower at the front door at the Cafe Corner Store. I have never seen your sister standing alone in a shadow alone. She promises to be siting upon a throne. Now she is at the Cafe Corner Stone. How many more times they have caught her standing there to carry that stone to the shore.
By Paul Noel Cimino6 years ago in Poets
