there is
no being rid of that creates you

you may
deprive yourself of life force

life
not ever deprives itself of you

its you

not them
you are missing

be aware
of all feeling
held to the image of another
in your mind

and know
its you not they

requires an adjustment

know your own power
hold to it

theirs
may or may not activate

if you accept
their hunger
asking you to stand with them
where it hurts

it feeds on you
and you feed them

that they do not want
to be chewing on

be clear and honest
at all times

no one
is worth worrying about

unless
you wish the worry
to come forth

and live
© an hour ago

remember
to the birth of time
held to nothing
but the play of life

remember
to a warm day
cradled to your skin
no talk of living
only laughter and joy
on the lip of adventure and discovery

remember
to the excitement of friendship
created to a star and hero
on the sword of imagination
neath the flight of a dream

remember
to the glow of nurture
breathed to a skip and run of little feet on earths foothold
as the close of a hug
on the beat of love
holds charge
to the heat of a body
found by the hide of seek

remember
to the belt of a star
to the eye of eve
as you make the first move
on the kiss of sunlight
and touch soul to the flesh of a sleeps fade
into the light of a nights close

remember
to the rush of a bloods desire
thru the pounding of a vein
slipping its teeth across the make of your naked pure

remember
to the sip of your body
on the arc of a rainbows melt
as the ray of charge bursts open
on the blistering sun
and drips to the earth of ground
through the light of a dusty mantle

remember
to the burn of life
held tight on the hunt of scent
gifted to a rise
on the black slow of heat
as the pelt of a wolfs prime
escapes to the prey on a red white snow

remember
to the last of kings and queens
answered to the truth of gravity
swept to an infinite mind
on the lift of light

on the hand
that none behold

he hammered down
on the nails deep

to the throw of a sqeak
thru woodens pine

blunts
a stain manic on the turn
of the machines steel and sweat

heathens a blow
to the mark of an eyes sap
weeping at the shredded corners
of a timbre some shroud

times counting
times coming
crows a shadow to his memory

thumbing its putty to the waters milk
fed to the velvet silk of her red rise

its morphing
to form your inner ideals and feelings

projected at
and reflected back at you

from the field of infinite intelligence

in coherence to your body hum

things are made

to be

in the space of your own mind

to see
my self there

i looked
thru your eye

as mine

to scan
its sense of betrayal

to my sanity
unveiled

a wish we birth together

hurt

that a blood hangs
the boil of blame and bitter on
thru history

is the culture
to be released from and refurbished

and a new blood
breathe itself into place

until ones resolve
is to their own to settlement

nones blood be restored

showing
that you mean

not telling it

is an easier energy to receive

a with
not an at

kind of feeling
© 2 hours ago

is thought awake

or just a picture to a wakeful state

failing us
into the risk of knowing

the take of leave

a leaf that wanes
on the wither of a stowing breeze

carried to her seed
on the heel of a fickles mind
by the seek of his grounded harrow

a meadows hang
on the tenants tell tales wonder

advent on the shimmy
of her seasons *****

a braze on the heat
of a weathers mulling think

this weigh in on a souls being
is no see saw

its a required
transformational balancing
on the scale of ones own flesh blood and bone

against the fire of divine light

we have no desire
to scare the living daylights into any

but to the wit

we wish to alert one
to the savage nature that self realisation throws up
to a blind and ignorant mind not preparing the essence
and ground to walk with the fire of light
that comes to prune its garden at the dead of night

this time

death
has no option

but to rise up

You may be right up close to each other
share the same space and be infinitely apart

cause you live
to the mind of where you put it

against the soul

not to feel
is a blissful martyr

only a point of you

are you really

or is it that your imagination
has taken the place of your true substance

to find you out

Human thinking's habit
of making things up to worry about

perpetuates a reality
that otherwise would not be

throwing the self
in front of a train of thought
not ever stop its momentum


be like a hot air ballon and be lifted up

and
there is more

you are equally
not you

and
there is more

you are equally

not you
and more

but I'm not that

the feeling
of a cuddled cat

its your childs mind

feel it your healing

we neither hear
nor listen to thought

we be busy on the body
and its weigh in on life force

but really
we are a no body's any body

Through the slip of time
this angel serves her feel to yours
cheeks her flush of beauty
to your misty emotional body
touching her heat to your hearts warm keep
slight as a whisper says goodbye
to her ever lasting stay

you may shuffle the cards
and still play the same game

if you re arrange only the content
or thoughts of a mind
and not spin or feel it different at source
holding to its own story

an instance keeps returning to you
over and over in the flesh

until one re unites , balances and aligns all the bodies
vibrational firstly then emotional and mentally
to the point of activation or to the hollow space
nothing ever changes

the deeper you
shows up to the shallow waters
on the face of behaviours forthcoming
brought to you on your vibratory command
by others and the world about you

The weigh of a life
is as shadow to light
on the backbone of a souls body

the throw of force from the open source
to the spin of a hearts command
hung on the heat of a higher mind
play rule to the skeletal bare burn
tasked to the clay on bones return to the mould
fetched blind on the parcel of a thoughts thinking

is not a choice

it is a right
beyond choosing

you'd surely
stop looking for your self

the nothings lost
is the best place to be looking

The ball to drop

is not ever
on the other side of the net

self service with a smile

I apologise

that was not my sorry

but yours
I was being sorry about

vibration not ever
betray its physical properties

you are that your not
before you become of it

a silent hue about your frame
feeding your intention
to the mood and matter of the universe

where did I last leave you
behind enemy lines

pats my back

come on son
we're home

as a passenger

to some one else's life

Mother

get off that cross would ya
or you'll catch your bleeding death

before any feeling arrives
in the flesh

and be moved

beautifully

as she can be

now is the time
to stop winning it back
and be on the losing end
of life on track

no fault here but forgiveness
and an army of silent action
bound by heart to soul

no plot to sow

the sown

you'd surely
stop looking for your self

the nothings lost
is the best place to be looking

unless it hurts you
to know it more

but roar

into your own eye

thought application
is no way to liberate an i pad

All just passing through
forever's point of view
trust life to take it all away
to put it back together again

that remains not ever die
as that not leave be left behind
a story written to the mind
the human pen but ink to life

I wonder has anyone looked me up
any highlights on my avatar
or comments that might fill my cup
a robots touch a single star
to feel connected to the fire
the want of me that thick desire
an all out nothings cloak of lies
to tell me of a fake disguise

but no not I my arty craft
I lay no bet on hover that
tastes much better on the real
a nothing special to reveal
but a human kind of *** appeal

not to say your not my type
just blood is blood and hype is hype
how little do we really know
realities remote control

is not the power
creates it

but the power
makes it real

thought hangs no power on you
until you believe it and receive it as your truth

control me

and Ill learn to die trying

a death
denied life

is life pronounced dead

until you make it
an enemy or friend

crazy how
the human mind believes
life needs help

each thought alone
has itself a personal reality
history and story to be lived through you

and all be left
is more of it

take sight away
and all be left is life

This food you feed me
explores my deepest thirst
draws tear to a sting of eye
warm from the swell of this hollow body

I be loved to you
and you be loved to I
one voice
one singer
one sung

no skin to separate
sleeps awake

a love not taken
creates another
such a love I be to you
as you be to I
my love
my light

my soul maker

an idea

and all it represents to a mind

to inspire
or destroy itself