Ari White
Ari White
Jan 12

last night i killed a cat
he attacked me at the home in my head
was reincarnated into a duck
then followed me around
this has to do with you and me
and i think i want you dead

Jan 6

Another day in the life
A shadow cast upon the earth
Cold atmosphere caresses your skin
Warm blood is the gift of birth
Iron flavor coats your tongue
Swallow the cum, for the next of kin
Begins again, and again, until
You learn life's final lesson.

A matter of life, reduced to a theory of strings
existing in the here and now, but tied to other things

Bindings immortal, dimension-ally unsound
part memory and heart, not anchored in the ground

Explained reincarnation, thoughts passed around
existing in the present and the past, and to the future, bound

A miasma of creation, strung memories in time
attaching different strings, a recycling of the mind

Racing down the byways, of the consciousness and soul
a car upon the highway, just a part, striving to be whole

If ya are to believe mathematicians, strings cross time, space, and travel inter-dimension-ally. This would explain past memory experiences as well as provide groundwork for reincarnation, and how an eternal soul could exist.
Atul Kaushal
Atul Kaushal
Dec 17, 2016

Beyond the limits of life,
Born again shall be our love,
Again and yet again.

Swear you did the oath,
Swore you a pledge of love,
In that ancient time.

Do not dare you forget,
Direct me does the pledge,
Wait for you forever.

So do not you worry,
Sweet seems this sweat,
As I work up to you.

I will never mind it,
If you happen to move,
On & on in the life.

Long I waited for it,
Longer than eons I did,
To meet you again.

So I do not mind it,
Some more rebirths it took,
To finally achieve you.

HP Poem #1330
©Atul Kaushal
Bethany G Blicq
Dec 17, 2016

“You can’t help her now,”
they try to tell me.
To convince me.

“She’s a lost cause,”
they try to tell me.
Lost in a sea of abuse,
fishing for love in a lie.

“She already sold her soul,”
they try to tell me.
The devil faces me,
grinning ear to ear.

“Surrender your hope,
or I’ll steal yours next,”
it's a promise not a threat.

“All I can do is watch
and wait
for the moment you slip up,”
I grin back, and say,
“If she won’t fight for her life,
I will.”

“Why bother?”
The devil needs to know.

“I once was her.”

Written in 2016.
Bethany G. Blicq

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Apollo Hayden
Apollo Hayden
Dec 10, 2016

One to twelve, one to twelve,
clocks on the wall, one to twelve.
Circle circles, cycle cycles,
chains of time on the mind, stuck in this hell.
Back into the light, you've came here so many times;
deja vu flashes clues yet you still can't tell,
how we used to be able to reach thirteen but they've got us stuck in this cycle of one to twelve.

If time is a face on the water
and we are a ripple in the ocean
We kiss the earth
We swim in strange waters
We wash up on blood stained sheets
and with a wail we walk again

wild is the wind
Nov 14, 2016

indifferent to unplanned pathways  
destiny knows not enslaving bounds
pathways crisscross at befallen crossroads
knowing all roads lead to all roads

restlessly searching through the ache writhing within,
the voice of my soul speaks crystalline
through the hidden portal of my heart

beckoning the wounded healer within
be at home in the silent darkness of suffering
to perceive the gems of awakening light;

embrace the lessons where the wounding leads us
to bring forth a healing reincarnation,
intimately feeling the collective pulse of humanity echo
a wholeness in a deeper level our being

the only spark to rekindle a flame blown out
a soul’s assent to the labyrinth through the wound

wild is the wind

snippets from a conscious ramble;
a shameless attempt at understanding a potentially higher conscious  self
written to advocate for, to support all wounded healers
that often experience the potential gifts of a wounded heart

if this is "too deep" i'll just keep trying
to find my way through the dark maze on my own

all apologies ... wilder

all in all is all we are

Liam C Calhoun
Liam C Calhoun
Oct 31, 2016

I died the night my son became,
Come his cry,
And my promises wept;

     For the whiskey bottle’d pass,
     And now over one empty seat.

I died the night my son became,
Come his grin,
And a mother now exhausted;

     Held was her hand, held was his,
     Before the brothers who now hold spades.

I’d earn life the night my son became,
Come his whimper,
And our eternity now in wait;

     Such neon! Were the hours, so howl,
     Would and could –

          Minus I and newest day we’d become.

Apollo Hayden
Apollo Hayden
Oct 19, 2016

From the last life we were like this,
so meeting you here and now we're just reuniting.
Trying to remember all that we forgotten.
Did love stay fresh, or did it go rotten?

I guess only time will tell.
From the first time we met, I felt I already knew you so well.

I just hope even when we ain't in heaven, you'll still stand by my side through hell.

Who were we?

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