Vincent Dali

Vincent Dali Poems

I would love to expose her to my wonderland,
My world of fantasy
To share with her what makes me tick, tock
The working clock shows her a light heart, but a dark mind
...

As the sun shined upon this island in the clouds
So did the eyes of a curious young girl
Her face would one day mirror that of a Geisha’s
She, the most perfectly painted portrait in Asia
...

We lie together in complete silence
Not speaking a word, just let our hearts beat
And listen to them tell one another how in love they are
I'll put my ear to your heart and listen to it beating
...

Like an unripe melon
Like a conquer Magellan
Like a handy capped Helen Keller
There is a moonster in the cellar
...

Writing is for the tortured soul
Writing toward a tortured goal
As without a soul like the dark raven that flew
Out of sight into anew
...

Vanity hits my Face
All around this ugly Place
Why can’t I see?
I understand through all of your eyes
...

(Holla) Rain, Rain
Go Away
Come Again Another Day
...

Killing time
‘Cause time don’t mind
Time never stops
Just has the sun never drops
...

As she spins her web dew falls to the ground
Day breaks all around

Strings form a pattern of symmetry
...

Some sicknesses hide our sins
Some sicknesses of lustful romancers
Some sicknesses prey on the innocent, those plagued with cancers
Other sicknesses lie within
...

I let my demons fallow never led
Don’t let your mind be what these demons feed
Looking back in retrospect
Seeing all the mistakes that I regret
...

(PLEASE NOTE THE FOLLOWING IS THE BEGINNING OF A SHORT STORY)

Tedward Top cut on a light in his living room as he lit his glass pipe. An empty bottle of Lunesta lies next to his lighter. His insomnia seemed to get worse every night. He blew a thick cloud of smoke as he glanced at the grandfather clock to catch the time. Half past two in the morning; he followed the shadow of the clock with his eyes as his mind wondered. He put the pen to the page and began writing; he wrote a few stanzas but was interrupted by a knock at his door. The lights of the city shown on his face as he opened the door, a woman wearing a large rain coat retrieved a small bottle from he pocket and handed it to Tedward.
He offered her in by saying, “Thank you madam, come on in.” He closed the door behind her and took her coat and hung it on a wooden coat rack. The light in the house revealed that under the large rain coat was a tall, thin, blonde woman wearing a black dress. Her black high heels tapped loudly as she walked toward the living room. She sat down in a red silk like recliner and crossed her legs. “How have you been doing Tedward? ” the woman asked caringly. He looked up at her blue eyes and answered calmly “Fine, and how have you be doing Courtney? ” She responded “I’ve been doing great; it’s good seeing you again Tedward.” Tedward gave no reaction at first he gazed at the clock traced its long shadows with his eyes then replied “I’ve missed you as well.” He paused and looked at the bottle in his hand and began to speak “Thanks for the fix”
...

The thought of a broke businessman’s lonely midnight fall from a towering skyscraper
The cry of a young girl and the stranger who just raped her
The beading sweat of a Mexican father running not for himself, but his family, shot down for running toward a dream
The tears of a pregnant teenage cheerleader that got cut from the team
...

'Have you a hat? ' I asked the hare
He gave no reaction, his yellow eyes did stare
This is one bad Acid trip
A mind puzzling fit
...

To hold my darling and never let her go
Would be the easiest task I know
The words I pen for her are more than words, they are art
For this masterpiece I would use as paint blood from my own heart
...

17.

If these drugs heal my brain
If these pills kill my pain
If my name brings me fame
If these frames keep me sane
...

There once was a pot
It was filled with non-sense
So it was simply sent away
To a very beautiful place
...

Open up b#! *h and let me in
When the neighbors ask I'm just your friend
I'm not your out of town kin
But once I begin, to begin to befriend
...

Vincent Dali Biography

I am Vincent Dali poet and writer.I have a INFP personality. INFPs are creative types and often have a gift for language. As introverts, they may prefer to express themselves through writing. Their dominant Feeling drives their desire to communicate, while their auxiliary intuition supplies the imagination. Having a talent for symbolism, they enjoy metaphors and similes. They continually seek new ideas and adapt well to change. They prefer working in an environment that values these gifts and allows them to make a positive difference in the world, according to their personal beliefs INFps have a very good understanding of harmony and know well how to successfully combine clothes and accessories, resulting in their characteristic, elegant appearance. Sometimes they may give the impression that they are somewhat foppish. This applies to both male and female. INFps show interest in a varied range of the unusual and original. They are also inclined to small talk. It can sometimes prove difficult for others to hold INFps attention during interaction. They may unexpectedly disrupt a conversation by commenting in such a way as to give the impression that they are not following the subject. This can confuse or puzzle others. INFps enjoy interesting or humorous anecdotes and stories. They often recall and share notable episodes from their own life experiences. In situations where they are required to give a answer they often delay the inevitable until the last moment even if they have reached a decision by evading and camouflaging their intent. INFps are inclined to make empty promises, always finding excuses to justify their lack of responsibility. They like to make others aware of their lack or practicality. However, INFps have a good instinct for commercial and business matters showing great flexibility. This quality coupled with their ability to choose reliable deputies helps them to maintain a firm grip on positions of power. INFps have the ability to positively console people who are upset or worried by helping them to look to the future with optimism. With strangers INFps behave gallantly and tactfully, showing good manners and education. However among friends and family they can be very up front sometimes behaving frivolously. They enjoy baiting others in a playful manner in order to create an easy and tension-free atmosphere. At home INFps can be very frivolous and capricious, showing great stubbornness in getting what they want, sometimes creating dramas and scenes. These emotional outbursts are usually short and disappear without consequences. Generally they have very flexible emotions which they control consciously. INFps are usually uneconomical in financial matters. They find it difficult to refuse their whimsical desires. This can often lead them into financial difficulties and can result in them having to borrow money if they do not have sufficient money reserves. They like an extravagant style of life which is why their demands often outweigh their resources. INFps more than any other type are inclined to marry because of wealth instead of love. INFps will often accumulate their complaints in order release them all in one go in an appropriate situation. In fact, people who show concern about INFps health and well being and who listen to their problems are very much appreciated.)

The Best Poem Of Vincent Dali

The Broken Clock Of This Wonderland

I would love to expose her to my wonderland,
My world of fantasy
To share with her what makes me tick, tock
The working clock shows her a light heart, but a dark mind
That is if she does not mind
The time it takes to make her mine

My heart light with love
My body burning up in lust
Yet my mind a cool and dark place
For her to chill, not to the bone
But merely the soul
So she may strut and gaze upon my mind in this wonderland

Unfazed by morals’ shadow casting down
Walking around cool under a tree of mirrors
That reflects stairs, stairs we share in a stroll
To the clock tower
Yet in this land of majesty time makes us neither grow old or cower

She enjoys the euphoric scent of the wind
The rain pours orange in spite of a darkened cloud above
Angels sing, yet not of love
They merely mock these demons
For their hideous faces make only moans of obsessive envy

Yet, as clockwork orange as can be
Nothing is as it seems
So be what it may
This world of fantasy does not exists in days nor years, nor tears, nor skin
Only a world created from within

An imagination grown in the center of its garden
Its fruit sweeter than her lips
Yet its juice much weaker, less succulent than that which flows between her hips
Upon my lips trickles ice sickles
Yet they remain unfrozen

The vegetation rejoices as it is watered by her
The doors purr as she unlocks them
Too many doors for an infinite God to count
So she paces herself and opens them without self doubt
Puppets and strings, and zombie like things caught in a spider’s web
Dark skeletons catching rain in there mouths
Yet in vain for it flows smoothly through their hollow beings
She enjoys these sights
She is not blinded by darkness or light
She appears everyway to be just right

So all doors are open to her
If it takes her forever
I will be her infinite audience of implore
For every door explored will open another
Deep in the forest of many unforgiving lore
Future, past, even present exists no more
Only this wonderland of fantasy exists
And the woman I adore - forevermore

Vincent Dali Comments

Jessica Workman 02 April 2009

these are very great poems

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Amber Vasquez 13 February 2009

I love your work And how you make your images so clear.

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