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FoolishExploding over the walls,
your personal Jesus can't save you.
Why, why, why
her demons scream in her face.
Blinding and illusionary in the dark,
but you and she can't see,
all pent up and foolish actions.
Does it loose meaning?If I say I'm sorry
does it change a thing?
Would to keep saying
that one word be demeaning?
To say it today
and then say it the next
to say it again and again
does it not loose meaning?
Should I say that one-
for just a small taste of:
anger, annoyance, bitterness,
a raised voice in a sentence?
Should I say I'm sorry?
But, still this image...I remember the days
of sunflowers and daises;
of passion flowers blooming
and the consciousness of a lotus.
Memories of wind and sun,
water lapping upon coasts
and tidal waves of revolution -
the true beginnings of a peculiar bloom.
Washing up on stranger shores,
staring at a new symmetry,
the forming of a unknown world -
the starting of quiet discontent.
An invention, a discovery, outlandish!
Growing faster, faster, fast -, fa -
to a grotesque transformation
into an astonishing reflection.
Expanding and contorting,
flowers bursting in fire and rebirth;
from marvelous and into extraordinary
but still, this image...
A Glass JarI fought with a pen instead
never thinking to use a sword.
Words flowed unbidden, non-rhyming,
the beginnings of a strange symmetry;
These words whispered across the pages,
ink constantly flowing, flowing -
rivers of words pouring out of pen
into a glass jar full of dreams.
Alas, these images of past, present
and the future of my yesterdays,
are only just a glass jar full of dreams.
Glimpse, A Glint, of possibilitiesA flash, one moment,
just a simple glimpse
one whisper full of meaning
and eyes shining out bright.
The sun catches upon a shine,
a glint, an echo, a brush,
a field of a soft golden glow
and trees of deep, deep roots.
Promise, promise, promise,
a promise of something more -
left or right, or walk off;
Make it quick! Make it quick!
Brimming full of the more,
bubbling over, flowing out
quickly take a sip from it
or the moment is gone to soon!
A moment, a glint, an echo,
one glimpse of what could be;
if only, if only but for one
moment to make a choice.
Suddenly, but oh so suddenly
It is gone.
The Wind RagedRage, rage, the wind went
it whirled about in discontent.
It never seemed to stop it's lament
and neither would it relent.
It cried and cried and cried,
having no where to hide.
It just could not seem to abide
being so very cold outside.
All the wind wanted was to find peace
and yet already had it's release;
The wind just did not know how to cease
or even remember how to be nice.
Jar of DreamsShe collected her dreams,
one by one in these glass jars.
She had a giant collection sitting,
always sitting on a bunch of shelves-
they were tucked away between books
and lost underneath papers, hidden away.
Sometimes she would take them out to see,
wanting a view of what she had once dreamed.
Never ever did she think or wanted to release them
for doing so would meant to shatter her precious jars
and she was ever so afraid that those shards would cut,
cut and cut and cut her, leaving her shredded into pieces.
So on rainy days, she would find them, take them to the window
and put them on display as she counted them all, one, two, three...
she would cry and cry with the rain always wishing, always dreaming
of the day that maybe she would be unafraid to release the precious jars
Flower's InstructionsWith tender care a seed
was planted into the garden.
It's life grew fast as children do,
from seed to bud to bloom.
Flower greeted the world with
its beauty and petals almost overnight.
The flower told the gardener,
as it bloomed it's colors:
Treat me well fair world
for I am small and delicate
Give me gentle winds of words
for hurricanes will blow me away.
Give me tender kisses of light
so that I may not wilt from harsh love.
Give me soft rains of kindness
so I may be kind and strong.
If you do these things
I'll be beautiful for life.
Desire Has WroughtDesire found itself upon lonely shores,
washed up on an a tiny island
no where to go except
in a circle around an island.
There is nothing to do but think before ,
stretch out upon sands;
come to terms, accept
what Desire had done.
Desire, Desire, the waves whispered,
expressing the loneliness of Desire
of knowing what once had been grasped
and what has been lost.
Nothing Desire thought of could deter
the thoughts of what had transpired
what desire had almost clasped
but now knows the cost.
TruthLogic is seeing
Pain is teaching
Blindness is strength
Balance seeks itself
My soul is sooted
Desperate for YouDay by day
Brick by brick
Tree by tree
Tear by tear
Day by day
Trials and temptation at my door
As the grass grows in the world
My soul being put to the test
Day by day
Every hour and every second
Realizes that I am desperate for the Lord
For the Lord to hold me from falling
Lord, I'm desperate for You
My heart tears and wears from a lack of Your wisdom
I thirst and hunger for You
Lord, You hear my cries and You know that I am desperate for more of You
Lord, You are the only who fills my lungs with air
Lord, You are the only that speaks words into my mouth
Lord, You are the only one that makes my heart beat louder than drums
I'm desperate for more of You; Lord, I'm desperate for You
Teach me Lord to worship You with all that I am on my knees
To depend on You and have Your way in every part of my life
Lord, I am desperate for more of Your love
Lord, I am desperate for more of You in my life
You are the only one that will last forever
You are the only one that will love forever
You are t
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
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
Psychedelia Dementia.Yellow night,
this alien world is so bright,
there is no darkness here only glorious light.
The grass is red and gold,
and the trees are shades of purple,
I feel this world is old,
in the distant there are mountains of silver and marble.
With every breath I take,
with an easy pace I make,
every step takes me closer to a lake,
am I dreaming or am I awake?
The lake is liquid glass,
sparkling crystalline gas,
lightning trapped underneath,
beats with a rhythm of a heart!
And as I draw closer,
I hear the music of this world,
I feel it's taking me over,
suddenly the surroundings whirled.
I look up to a familiar sky,
blackness of space greets me,
something inside me feels hollow and all I want to do is cry,
if I close my eyes forever then maybe I can come back and see.
The absense of colour drives me insane,
this place is too plain,
I must find a way to go back and stay forever,
and I don't want to leave ever.
RegretsStanding on the banks of the River Styx,
This river where dreams abandon the men who dreamt
Cold biting through my soul's mortal cage
I began to wonder about God, where He was
Although I really needed only look up from my feet
He was standing beside me, of course
Because after all
This was where I had always left him
StrangerKill me now lest I dream to deep
or to fast that I am swallowed
by all that is and was.
While chasing the white stag,
the trees melt and seas boil
the world seems repugnant.
From the land of frozen
lips become black and blue
with stiff movements of uncertainty.
From the land of the scorching,
the heart melts and explodes
while the minds discovers phantasmagoria.
And within the realm of copse,
the mind discovers the unearthing,
and there is silence on the lips.
Oh where oh where have I gone,
where is this stag and feast
taken me that I am a stranger?
Within this flow of possibilities,
a sea full of obscurity and absurdity,
there is a stranger staring back at me.
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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