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When the Mind Plays Tricks
The wind was music enough while stars that would someday die, stood still in dark skies as an audience sitting in the black and blue. A few lights stood out...a kitchen light left on with the blinds open, a doorbell, the car alarm lights that flickered red just under the windshields, and the automatic street lamps that would open and close their eyes as if they had always been awake and were at last drifting off like recovering insomniacs.
A man sat upon an uncomfortable porch during a gusty summers night, just after the birth of morning by nearly two hours. The trees would sing their parts in unison with the lazy gusts from south to north and north to south. Another light was near to him, just inside of his hands, while he typed. A phone, with a warped screen...its face beheld a bubble that was to it like a transparent blemish.
Off in the distance drummed the rubber of spinning tires over late night roads beneath more yellow street lights. Whether they were drunks, cheaters, teens avo
Actors in the Flesh
I'm rather good at playing the role of a man in pain. God gave me some noticeable baggage beneath my eyes, and bleak look that would have had victims of some great disaster asking me of the burdens on my shoulders. Funny thing was, that I had always been a little angry about that...never really got me anywhere but in a world of unwanted pity.
"Time was a mean old bastard to this face," I thought, "or was it choice?"
It didn't matter so much half the time. A walking, talking corpse seems like a good line up for a good punchline to some twisted joke. And that's the thing, is it not? No one likes a frown in that world of pity, they just want smiles, even if only for themselves. If they're just shy of the right size or temperature of heart, they take a swing at that joke, just for kicks...even if those kicks were really sucker punches below the belt. Took me years to realize that it couldn't be helped, but when it came to me, it came. I don't really remember when or where, and I don't thin
Things to Take on an Acid Trip
Several matches for each plot of land in a phase of suicidal tendency, and perhaps gasoline for the sake of a better show.Glasses can be for the brightest lights on the older towers before implode and fade into dust, leaving themselves in clocks to in & around time, disintegrate. A topless thinking cap, for the open mind required by a chore of listening to raving schizophrenics that may have a point or two, depending on the voice whose behalf they speak on.
A vacation round the world in matters of time and variety, in store for our future, so I encourage all to pack accordingly. It is only a vacation in that you will deviant from what you think you know.
An old paper fan for the heated debates of distractions and attractions. Different eyes for every sight to behold so as to spice the convolution. Grenades to open letters from loved ones and old friends. Magnets to toss deep into clouds for purposes of entertainment. Gargoyles for the nightmares outside every wall you've built up. Sand
Please Wake Up
Trapped in a fantasy whom harbors the
echoes of the voices that love, the false smiles
spread wide to blockade the hell forming within heart.
Yours are the eyes that will see what the senses
adapted will force them to see.
The rain buries every drop of liquid salt
from the swollen wells of brunette,
who blink bloodshot from the nightmares still
continued beyond the place of bliss, that woefully
small world of ignorance that only sorrow can create.
Small quakes come and go from the outer reaches
where mountains dwell, and they creep over your
shoulders as you run across reality,
trying your damnest to maintain that smile.
And the plants, how they wither and die as hope
becomes a fleeting miracle, and the flowers
discolor and become ash as faith becomes
tested day by day by year.
The world is collapsing, and I pray that you
just take my hand to bring up the words
we should say in heart and aloud so that this
dying world lives as some reality within reality.
For the love of our own love a
The hands press, filthy and shaking as the knees
have lately greeted the cold earth for a beggars perspective.
Silence has become the loudest reply from the
Heavens and the visions have left the ears ringing for the call to arms.
A war is traveling to a place in the times to come,
where man will hold the greatest sum of casualties and
beyond physical endings. Subliminal messages within
visions see to it to remind those see of prophecies foretold.
Seven serpents of false colors move with scales
made of all seeing eyes, weighed unevenly in ever
corrupt judgement, keeping warm beneath tarnished flags
dropped over the corpses of the contemporary river Styx.
How the river is grown from its many clots in
its veins spread out from the depths of Hell,
where the devil blushes in admiration of his work in progress.
Here there are no numbers flr the sins committed and to be committed.
I cannot run, even if my desire were in the places of cowardice.
I beseech the Host to tear down the gates of Hel
Setting Fire to The Sword.
A mystery for dinner, to be spoon fed and ensure a scalded mouth to curl up the tongue. That scent that comes forth to greet the black sunset in the middle of a predicted eclipse.
Death to come and to leave, leaving behind the bread crumbs towards a better day, like a Message from God in the times when Gabriel was given other tasks for that process of fate.
A blade left in a stone beneath the open hole of the ashen skies through which a little light remains piercing through and throughout space and time shining bright off the metal.
God help them, they only see a sword and its perfect edge. They know not how to wield this glorious tool to even the odds and clear the air, as never was it intended for bloodshed.
I have seen the fields beyond that stone that burn and build the smoke of those skies. I hear the call to put them out for all of time to come and go, just as you intend for this war of ages.
Would not it a tale to tell to eager ears? The flaming blade that consumed those fires,
Signs of the End
Smoke on the rise, where the moth flies low,
Collecting ash where should be dust.
An old structure fades with growing flames,
Until the moth is choked from its bowels.
A tree melts into the wax earth,
Sinking into the heart cracked open ajar
In many an area, round the broken tendons.
Those tendons were of the lush grass of green that somber,
never did get to see the real sun.
Let flow from the basis unto though purging flames,
that smoke on the rise, as the crazed moth
counts the specs of ash and dust amidst its collection.
Its fixed eyes would have not seen the spreading fires,
nor would they ever until the eleventh minute of
so short a life span for the creature that
could have easily been mistaken for the creature
that brings life to flowers...
the room of the model and artificial kingdom go
ablaze from a moment out of nowhere, as the brewing
flames became more from their source and blackened
the model and room and home to just some charred carcass,
as was that first old structure t
What Feels like Damnation
January was a first within which I quickly lost track of time, when the year began in a ninth circle developed out of treacherous fear. A convoluted scheme that wrapped away my freedom for a man of ill wealth that took fancy to my unfortunate name.
I was a gift, and show such love that I did indeed question in that following February. To and from like a breathing Valentine, walking with bare feet, cross country to be presented as god given property to the fiend that I called master against the laws of choice.
Free will was suffocated in the wearing of shackles whose rust gave new color to the skin that they met. Marching in March, the road carried on as I lived as cattle for the monsters whose humanity had been consumed by the circles of the Hell in which I was misplaced.
A fool did I think myself to ever pity a man who had allowed his humanity to be robbed from in front of his own eyes, whilst my humanity was given the treatment of beast worth a fraction to the rest of my fellow man.
TruthLogic is seeing
Pain is teaching
Blindness is strength
Balance seeks itself
My soul is sooted
you can runfather, father, will no one see us,
will the sun shield us with her bedouin cloth,
years from now will i be ashamed of what i had or
when i was whimpering in the open under dust-
soaked banners of the sun
father, father, mouth to your ear,
my sand-golem, have you ever been, if yes,
have you ever been here,
will we tumble down the crater, father,
will we let them pass,
who would be searching for us
between the frigid lips of the desert,
who would send hounds after us
except they're running,
who would leave tracks of dried saliva,
tumbleweed tongues, father,
are they far away and are we cowards
and if we are,
father father, will no one see us,
will my wish be granted,
will i be cocooned in sandstorm daggers
to be blinded, ten
years from now when i crawl out of the crat
True Strength LiesHeroes are strong beyond physical belief
With the bulking muscles to intelligence
With super powers to physical perfection
The image everyone wants to be
Heroes are stronger than any man
They are gods in the flesh
They can crush temples and fight monsters with their bare hands
They are only myths, but they are images
Be as strong as the almighty Hercules
You have the strength within to control everything
Destiny works against you and for you
All that matters is strength
Images, that's all they are
Hopes in having that body of Hercules
The tiny man getting picked on to becoming a strong man
Strength in the form of an image, but not a inward image
Samson, oh Samson
Just as bold and mighty as Hercules
The last judge who flirted with danger
He was stronger than any man, but he was really weak
A Nazarite who couldn't say no to all things that were bad
Flirted with danger with his physical being
But then was crushed by Delilah for a payment of 1,000 pieces of silver
Given into the hands of a
Lydia: The WallI used to live behind a wall,
a barrier separating me
from Those Out There,
and them from me,
tall and wide,
Some bricks were laid
some by religion
some laid by others,
some by myself,
and so the wall grew.
Some bricks were pretty,
others I hated,
some made me feel safe,
Some I wished I could break away -
others I never wanted to,
and so the wall stood,
my friend and my foe,
from Those Out There,
and them from me.
There it stood,
Gentile and Jew,
woman and man,
Greek and foreigner,
slave and free,
rich and poor -
my neighbour and me,
I felt safe
because of the Wall -
you broke it down.
Down it fell
as men took women seriously -
this woman -
Down it fell
as Jews entered a Gentile home -
my home -
Down it fell
as you gave me
a new life,
a new perspective.
Let me live
a life without walls
in your House without locks
where all may come in.
Let me invit
On FractalsI encode the commands
that instruct the machine:
and plot points softly.
Art predating earthly creation
hides within the nature of numbers.
Here, there is a sun;
there, a solar system;
yonder, an arabesque.
Beauty, from before
the light that was to be,
now awaits without fear
whatever end may one day come.
Discovered, as they were,
barely more than a lifetime ago,
these wonders, to us, are strung
between the infinities of time,
on sheets of pure mathematics
glimmering with the fingerprints
I ask for Your strength
And Your energy, Lord
For my dearest friend and me
Send Your Holy Spirit
To guide our footsteps
Provide what You know we need
For Your promise
Will not give us more than we can bear
Like the PhoenixLike the Phoenix
Like the Phoenix we raise
from the ashes of devastation
We raise rebirthed
to spread our wings and fly
like the phoenix
MusicButterflies in you stomach
Freedom tickling your ribs
Heart pounding faster and faster
Adrenaline pumping flight
Breath is forgotten
Wind caressing your cheeks
Sunshine baptizing you
Warmth spreading from your chest to your fingers and toes
Stars twinkling for you
The heavens congratulate you
Tranquility and peace
Challenge accepted and completed
Prayer of The Patrons
Blessed my guides,
Governed by our King.
His children know my purpose,
just as he upon his throne.
Sweet clarity do I seek,
But of course patience is key,
as by faith do I live, as this
nothing but mortal being.
To only them and our Father,
do I loyally obey.
Behold, for I am the left hand of God,
and I will fear no evil.
Teenage TaoismGiving birth is the closest I’d ever felt to dying.
Before that, my near death experiences had consisted only of my silent announcement of pregnancy—silent, being that my social media accounts were all deleted almost simultaneously and I never returned to school in the fall, saying without really saying that I had caught the malicious disease of “teenage pregnancy”. I’m sure the whisper spread in the hallways like the Bubonic Plague. That September, sitting at home on what would have been the first day of my senior year, I imagined friends I’d never talk to again saying “she was only seventeen, and so full of life!” at my absence in the cafeteria tables, as if they were attending my funeral instead of talking about me behind my back.
"Full of life," I had snorted then, folding a never ending stream of what had once been my own baby clothes. "Literally."
I walked around like a zombie for the months of my pregnancy, deciding t
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