I  have low comedy
novelty policy,
Honesty my conscious consciously and with veracity produce's a quality odyssey.
I'm probably a true anomaly, honestly.
**** modesty.
...Like that flow.
Well here's something you should know.
I'm exposed and under its Auroral control from orgone pyramid glow,
I start to float after cells explode releasing and letting tachyon's go.
Either that or I'm possessed like Emily rose.

On a hot summer day,
her birthday.
There was a man
who took hours
making a beautiful
ice sculpture
of his love.
who long ago
passed away.

As she melts,
both with water
running down their face
he expressed everything
he could and couldn't say.  
How his
"love for her
will never fade".
And how she
"still lives
in his heart
to this very day".

Camp surrounded with her favorite colored lamps and preferred plants with tears he laughed,
raised his hands,
fell into a trance,
begged heaven for the smallest chance, for just one more dance

Destiny on his mind
as planets aligned.  
Wine, Chimes,
Rhythm and Rhymes offered
up as gifts to the divine.  

Venus now raises
in Aries,
a chalice full of sherry as I burn
bushes of rosemary, blue berries and cherries invoking
every elemental fairy.  

Loving her
was so natural.
He now calls upon the supernatural
with mixed mineral granules to make this night magical.  

A feeling of
pauper to king
as he puts on her ring.
Goose bumps all over his skin as a million lighting bugs drift in, on strong winds.

Whispered
"I miss you,..
I miss you,..
I miss you,.
baby I miss you",
into amethyst crystal.

He couldn't, feel more alive.
Heart filled with pride
He couldn't believe his eyes, as a star descended from the sky.  

A poltergeist
in an amber soft,
off white light.
while reciting written rites with all his might

Her wings open,
He's frozen
No words to describe what was spoken what a beautiful omen.

Come and look at him,
you couldn't fathom the
battalion of phantoms that
inhabit my atoms.

I sit here with the license to
abuse my barbiturate and vices,
They are never subsiding.
Lamp lights become blinding,
Imagination and heart rate climbing,
Muscle tightening from typing and transcribing a
666 page book from automatic writing.

But even tho you just flowed with him,
You still don't know him,
Listen to his hymns
of the Divine King residing inside of him.
Check the glow of his skin,
The twin angel wings now attached to his limbs,
as he floats upon wind.

You wouldn't comprehend all the hours I've spent wrestling with my pen so it could obey my every whim.

I write sonnets nightly,
You have taken your gift
of writing too lightly,
Your so unlike me.