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Write lines upon my heart
in pure white light
and I will read them
  
Taste the nectar
of unbounded
sincerity

Breathe in blossoming
warm compassion

Taste the nectar
of unbounded
sincerity

Touch the tender pool
of infinite white light
    
Breathe in blossoming
warm compassion

Taste the nectar
of unbounded
sincerity

Meet me in the air space
between your thoughts
For this is holy ground
With the greatest humility and gratitude, I wish to dedicate this poem tonight to all of you at HP who have shown such lovely support for this quiet poem, which emerged from my deepest inner awareness.
Above all, gratitude to my Teachers.
©Elisa Maria Argiro
 Sep 2015 Dylan Whisman
Pax

I sit alone as if I am fading
Invisible in the ashen fields.
My heart longs to be somewhere
to where I see myself
Clear as the new day
True to oneself’s beauty
Away from the toxicity of people’s opinion
Or as far away from my own shadow of doubt.

I sit alone & not running anymore.
Losing strength as the wind passes by
Losing a bit of my edge in this unreasonable persona, I face.
Yet I never give a **** as long as I kept on going
Reaching for something Unreachable,
I can only hope…

I want to feel the life of someone’s at arm’s reach
to feel that I am alive
I missed you.

this feels like a follow-up on my 'ashen gray' piece:
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/298918/ashen-gray/
though it is much more in a different road,
a road that i am longing to have..
but darling, tis not this weight you should be concerned with
bearing weight means strength
strength translates into courage

courage
each cell within your painted body  
recreating pictures within moments
so you can adapt to the world's mysterious colors

colors
the gradient of your eyes
a scale model of the cosmos surrounding us
you and I

I
a collision of rocks in space
given the grand most title of a comet

comet
I may be this "brilliant comet"
but a comet cannot exist alone in this void of infinity
maybe I am this comet
but it is undoubtable that I need gravity

gravity
but darling, tis not the weight you should be concerned with
it is the strength of your gravity that yearns for your focus

so maybe I am your brilliant comet
but you are pulling me
my miraculous gravity
Generation X , sold out by a New World Order , fathers lost their pension to Reganomics , Baby Boomers took 911 , shot holes in the Constitution , killing proletariat , old as the strata on the canyon walls , welcome to the Holocene Epoch and ***** deals , wasted lives and politics that **** ! Change is the same barracuda caught all over again , don't defend your castle with my final drop of blood while your singing America the Beautiful on the Washington Mall , put out your hand , try to break my fall , with eyes shut , typing in coordinates on a 'Smart Bomb', or flying a drone over the castle wall !
Copyright September 27 , 2015 by Randolph L Wilson * All Rights Reserved
ı.

JųŞŧ ɧɛř קřɛŞɛŋĆɛ
MąҠɛŧɧ mɛ ąცŞզųąŧųٳąŧɛ;
I'm ʝųŞŧ ą קɛąŞąŋŧ
TıŞ Şɧɛ'Ş ŧɧɛ զųɛɛŋ ơʄ ŧɧɛ Şŧąř'Ş Şɧɛ ŋą۷ıɠąŧɛŞ.




©Brandon nagley
©Earl jane Nagley dedication (pookie) dedication
©Lonesome poet's poetry
If can't read poem reads as this

i.

Just her presence
Maketh me absquatulate;
I'm just a peasant
Tis she's the queen of the star's she navigates.

absquatulate means leave abruptly...
Stop meddling in other people's business
They dash their words against the walls
As if to advertises,  hatred of the human race.
The higher they climb,
the more you can see their disgusting parts

They comes off as useless quacksalver,
A waste of energy, a waste of space,
Words, words, mere words no matter from the heart
They form clichés, and spin the bottles
An idle mind is the devil’s playground
They smile in an annoying self-satisfied manner.
As if bitterness would bring them happiness
                
Who Am I?
This is about the Daily Advertisements
 Sep 2015 Dylan Whisman
Traveler
Cliffs of rocky words crumble into
landslides of incomplete sentences
I climb your ill frigid mountain
of self-righteous commitments
Gathering suppressed memories
I reach the summit of your greed
There the air is far too thin to breathe

The fear of your heights paralyzing
The cold of your winter realizing
I see my breath as the frostbite starts
Your avalanche of resentments fills my heart
Breaking my spirit, arresting my soul
'Til all that's left is you, the model I role

A footing unfit for vindication
A biography unfit for syndication
I froze in your tundra so many years ago
Until at last, like you I am the snow
I lost myself zeroes below...
 Sep 2015 Dylan Whisman
SE Reimer
~

here our gathered shadows,
in this hallowed place,
'neath its high hewn beams,
within its vacuous space;
to these storied walls,
we add our sighs of suffering;
to these earthly halls
for you in love we bring
our ties of heart and this,
for you a proxied offering,
for you a plea for peace,
on your behalf entreat,
a prayer for hope, for rest.
as earthly labors cease,
as in the distance,
earthly mem’ry fades,
may all its toil,
its daily rage,
dispelled as vapor be,
and in its place
may love remain,
as you ever rest in peace.

~

*post script.

for those lost from these halls,
taken from us ’fore their time
for Ernest, the Seeker, the Dreamer!
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