I have the sampler HOME SWEET HOME
I've heard the words. It's clear.
Heard many people say it,
And shed many a tear.
I've tasted sweetness in the world,
Made many people dear
I've tried to make do on this earth
But my home isn't here.

I've heard refrains of Homeworld
I've been before its breeze,
The symphonic swelling peaks of hope
Well beyond the trees.
Will you help me get a glimpse?
Oh, God, will you please?
I'm tired of the poverty,
Hate, war, and disease!

If i could please just tell folks
Of its wondrous sights!
Not ever seeing want, despair
In this endless night!
Places redolent of rainbows
Refraction of the light!
Peak pure joy perpetually!
Happiness at height!

The slender, supple blossoming
Of lillies! Endless spring!
Of roses, buxom! Burgeoning!
And peonies which sing!
The dew never leaves them,
And bring a brilliant bling
There is a pleasant mist here,
Water falls and pings!

Such a spectrum! Endless!
Colors never seen
On the perch'd parrots
Which parody & preen.
Leaves which never leave the trees
Jeweled amethyst, NOT GREEN!!

I confess I've dreamt it.
Pellucid water's depths.
Though I've never seen it.
I confess I've wept.

Oh, God, let me be swept

From this place of hardship.
From this place of pain.
A place of passion's sorrow
And polluted rain
To a place so endless...
No horizon's on its plain!

Here's the place of perfect peace,
The place where angels roam
This is NOT a place of Pilgrimage...

Heaven is my HOME


SoulSurvivor
Aka Write of Passage

Silence is a golden cage hung in the Palaces of privilege.

Silence is a creeping thing lying in wait in the passage of the passive.

Silence is mortal. When it dies it does not produce immortality, only a dead cold grave.

The immortal speak up!

The Immortal have words!

They are armor piercing rounds. Hollow point bullets which rip into full bellies.
The bellies of those who don't have guts.
The bellies of the faceless...

                              ... and the silent


SoulSurvivor
Aka Write of Passage

Noah weeps
His face is the Arroyo of the desert
His hands have a stigmata
of splinters torn
from building his enormous ship.
His feet stand between the
Devil and the deep blue sea.
Charybdis and Scylla

The children of his future *****
have drowned in doctrine,
the animals he carefully chose
and placed in his craft's stalls
gone extinct.

He weeps bitter gall
and vinegar.
Hardened by hubris
his future progeny posture.
Poetry is the psalm of the
posers, the ocean
only a place of
plastic shoals.

You place the ark in a bottle.

Hold fast, ye ship of fools!
Stay your course.
You're trapped by your
own nets...

Lie in the sea you sprawl out
for others.

Your brine dungeon
awaits.


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage
2022

My feet are shod in molded clay,
My legs wear tattered gowns.
My arms wear green, torn and frayed,
My head a golden crown.

The roots of flowers twine my toes,
A serpent guards an tongue.
I am a maid with many woes,
I'm neither old nor young.

Gravity doth hold me fast,
The dragon in his lair,
I am mortal... yes! Alas!
I long to fly through air!

Looking up to silken skies
Stitched by silver birds,
I hope, I pray, I soon will rise,
That my song is heard!

Free me from this weighted earth!
A wing'd horse to become,
I'll fly this light filled universe
The harp of stars to strum.

Off to the constellations,
I'll forget the place I've knelt,
I'll sip from the Big Dipper
And cinch Orion's Belt


SoulSurvivor
aka Write of Passage
2022

Healings sway lives
from greying flesh
To a tone whole and refreshed.

There's the sound
of heaven's refrain
Where once there was
a world of pain

To get a healing first receive
It can be done if you believe!

The ear perceives the eye is lit
Flesh is sewn and bones are knit!

Jesus came to heal our land
Cancer bows at His command!

So doctors are asking for a clue
As to what has healed you!

You can tell them it's not odd

Who healed you?  Almighty God!!

SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
12 24 2021

A million people drinking
Their lemon-flavored tea
A billion bottles floating
Upon a poisoned sea

Within each bottle there's a note
To peeps who find the plastic shell
It's just a slip of paper
From the manufacturer from hell.

The water pipes in
old Detroit
Are poisoning kids dead
Because the linings have worn off
And underneath
was lead

Pollution will run
Red as blood
The sun as black as coal
While the fat cats
Who caused it
Relax on sandy shoals.

How can we prevent this?
Is Recycling the way?
Hasn't helped much
That I can see

I prefer to PRAY


SoulSurvivor
November 2021