Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
5h · 46
fire 🔥
❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

as dangerous as
the teeth of a viper
tounges of fire
wrapped her ankle

❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥



SøułSurvivør aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis '25
6h · 55
wind
13W

÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷

the boney stick on
the windowpane
blown like God's fin̈ger
etched his fate

÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷=÷==÷=



SøułSurvivør aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis '25
There are great ideas spoken with few words I. believe this is one
23h · 50
snow
10W

@#@#@#@#@#@#@

white pieces of lace
falling from the
Ice Queen's sleeve.

@#@#@#@#@#@#@


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis '25
1d · 90
rain
10W

clouds
like wet grey garments
dripping
from a celestial
clothesline


soulsurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis
5/4/2014
It's been raining here
2d · 41
Procrastination
Tears the soul...
it is the greatest theft.
It steals the
most valuable
gift of all...

TIME

Just think about it.


20W
Soul Survior aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc


I have to honestly say that
I have a problem with this
3d · 47
Poets In Profile
word word word w
wordwordwordw
word word word
word word word d
word word word
wordwordwor
wordword
wordwordword
wordwordwor
word word word
word word word
word word word word word word
word word word word word word
word word word word word word


We love each other
but there are words
between us


Soul Survivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc


I hope this will look like two
Profiles facing each other
I hope
one can strive for greatness
in the field of dreams
in medicine or business
in law for what it seems

academic achievement
reqires work and time
one can garner laurels
and be in their prime

but to find true excellence
in poetry as art
it won't be found in dusty tomes
it must be in your

HEART


soulsurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis
(C) 8/15/2015


Art should never be strained
Either it comes from a place of
meaning for the artist
and invokes emotional impact
or it is just another business5
4d · 56
Bridges
You're lookin' at the river
Feelin' down and weak
When you're
Wadin' in the water
and it's rushing 'round your feet
When you want to
Reach the other side
And feel you can't retreat
The same insane song
In your head
And it is on "repeat"...

Just remember there are Bridges
They are made of words
Remember there are Bridges
Things you haven't heard
Remember there are Bridges
Made with human hands
Remember there are Bridges
Then you'll understand

The waters in that riverbed
They are cold and deep
They have a riptide current
So look before you leap!
You can't stand against them
They will take you down
You may just go under
Brother, sister, you will drown!

Reaching out ain't easy
But it don't get much worse
Than feeling down and vulnerable
Living with a curse
It's like picking up the planet
To lift that lifeline phone
But there people who
Will care for you...
You are not alone!

Just remember there are bridges
They are made of Words,
Remember there are bridges
Things you haven't heard,
Remember there are bridges
Made with God's own hand
Remember there are bridges
Then you'll understand.

Remember there are Bridges
When you are at a loss
They weren't made to jump from

They were made to CROSS.
muse
-----------------------------------
|   my mind's a blank.  |
|            PLEASE             |
|     write something     |
|             on me!             |
|           ♡ Cathy             |
-----------------------------------
I'm going through a dry spell





SøułSurvivør aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc

Catherine Jarvis

Actually I'm not having a shortage of creative power.
I'm just trying to get closer to the spiritual 🙏🏻
4d · 46
Poets Are Crazy!
Poets are crazy!
Poets DO have issues!
Poets are insane!
We have a different record groove,  
We have a different grain!

We have a different wiring
Don't respond to "normal" tests
We are the fish who climb up trees
Of this I can attest!


(chorus)
Poets hear their colors,
Poets see their songs,
Poets touch the music notes
They taste to sing along!


We wear t-shirts in 10 feet of snow
Coats in sunny climes!
We have no sense of timing
'Cept when we write our rhymes!

We go out in stormy weather
When it's clement we stay in!
We eat pizza in the morning
Write limericks on a whim!

(chorus)

We are calm when life gets frustrating
Mad when things go well!
Write rants when times are blissful
And sonnets when it's hell!

We travel to the Moon and back
Wear Stardust in our hair
We sail the very Cosmos
Sitting in our chair!

Our pens they scratch a tympany
Our pages plumb the depths
Of profound Pacific trenches
Or drown in puddles wept...


We have a different wiring
Don't respond to "normal" tests
We are the fish who climb up trees
Of this I can attest!

Poets hear their colors!
Poets see their songs!
Is that so ridiculous?
Folks, is that so wrong?

Poets hear their colors
The colors of the heart!
Come and see this song with us

Let your mind fall apart!


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 7/10/2016
5d · 54
Porcupine Pens
There's a form of rodent
In Latin form "quill pig".
He isn't very fast.
He isn't very big.

But be very cautious
If you encounter one of these.
They are very nasty,
Mean, to say the least.

They bristle up and like cacti,
They have a vicious will...
You don't need to touch to be
Nailed with a quill.

They will flick their tail
To let their venom fly,
So give this beast some room
When you see him going by.

People who are insecure
Will be just like them.
You don't want to be around
The subtle poison pen

The pen will rend and skewer.
The pen will have its art.
It will send a poison quill

Straight into your heart.



SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 2/12/2015
Mar 19 · 50
Poet of Stone
I am a sentinel
Poet of stone
Sitting apart
Sitting alone.

I do not twinkle
No star made of glass
I do not think
About things of the past.

I'm no wooden flute
Played with feeling and ease.
My breathing on earth
Has long ago ceased.

I'm no longer able  
To hear, nor to talk
But when I move  
YOU WILL HEAR ME WALK.

I'm not man or woman
I'm not boy or girl.
I no longer see  
With the eyes of this world.

I cannot touch
And I cannot feel.
But I can exist  
I assure you I'm real.

I am an island
a massive stone head.
An ossified remnant  
Of the long-ago dead.

I haunt the gravestones
They draw me. They lure.
I am so like them
I will endure.

Yes, I'm a stone angel
Your flowers I see,
But I cannot smell them
For I cannot breathe.

Yes, those stone markers
A metaphor be.
Those silent stones
Are actually ME.


Soul Survivor
Mar 19 · 38
Poet of Stone
am a sentinel
Poet of stone
Sitting apart
Sitting alone.

I do not twinkle
No star made of glass
I do not think
About things of the past.

I'm no wooden flute
Played with feeling and ease.
My breathing on earth
Has long ago ceased.

I'm no longer able  
To hear, nor to talk
But when I move  
YOU WILL HEAR ME WALK.

I'm not man or woman
I'm not boy or girl.
I no longer see  
With the eyes of this world.

I cannot touch
And I cannot feel.
But I can exist  
I assure you I'm real.

I am an island
a massive stone head.
An ossified remnant  
Of the long-ago dead.

I haunt the gravestones
They draw me. They lure.
I am so like them
I will endure.

Yes, I'm a stone angel
Your flowers I see,
But I cannot smell them
For I cannot breathe.

I stand exalted
Though I haven't a bone
My ossified head
Is mine alone

Yes, those stone markers
A metaphor be.
Those silent stones
Are actually ME.


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc aka
Catherine Jarvis
Mar 19 · 35
Love Your Enemies
Give your enemy a meal
If they're hungry,
But you don't have to
invite them to
Come in your home and din̈e!

(Take them to McDonald's)


SøułSurvivør aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc aka
Catherine Jarvis


The phrase "If your enemy is hungry, give him food to eat, and if he is thirsty, give him water to drink" (Proverbs 25:21-22) encourages treating enemies with kindness, potentially leading them to repentance or remorse, rather than seeking revenge.
Hey! Ladies & gentlemen!
All you girls and boys!
Put away TV remotes!
You have some NEW TOYS!

We have a job that's just for YOU!
It's easy! You can TRY!
WE WANT A PERSON IN THE GRAVE...
Just hear our slanderous LIES.

You know that woman over there?
She don't do as she should
She's had a hundred boyfriends
What's more she beats her kids!

You know that guy downstairs from you?
Investigation's goin' on
Law Enforcement knows about it
MOLESTING KIDS IS WRONG!

NO! DO NOT CONFRONT THEM!
WE have a way to delve
Heaven forbid they know you KNOW
So they DEFEND THEMSELVES!

No. We'll do it THIS way...
We'll do it real SLY
Don't worry bout a thing my friends
Don't matter how they CRY...

Just go ahead and spread the WORD!
Tell everyone! Their friends!
I'll teach you some OTHER TRICKS
To help make their life END.

If we do things all just right
Use my sadistic guide
You'll see that we can cleanse our world

BY THEIR SUICIDE.

Don't worry. It'll be easy.
It's quite simple to do
You will find that you won't mind...

BE GRATEFUL IT'S NOT YOU.



SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc aka
Catherine Jarvis
(C) 3/13/2017


The creation of madness always begins
With SLANDER. Imagine. All of a sudden
"Everyone" is against you! You can't figure out WHY. BECAUSE YOU'RE COMPLETELY INNOCENT
Trista Means Sorrow (I Act Play)
SETTING: Brooklyn Bridge at night. The sky is overcast, but no rain is threatening. The clouds look auburn. Lights shine in the water. The skyline of New York City painted on a scrim in the background.

A woman (Trista) is sitting on the railing next to the footpath of the bridge. She's facing the water and looks down at it. She has deep sorrow on her face, but no tears are flowing. She is Caucasian. She looks from the south. What would be considered white trash. Dressed shabbily, obviously homeless, her face etched with care. Her belongings are tied around her waist. It is very obvious that she's a jumper.

Enter another much younger biracial woman (Amanda) This one obviously a student, dressed in stylish grunge. She stops. The other has not seen her. Obviously. Trista seems off in another world.

Amanda looks around. It is quite late at night, and the young girl is frightened. She knows how to take care of herself, she's athletic. But she's alone. There is no one around, which has made her brave enough to take a walk at this hour of the night. But now she is confronted with a situation she is totally unprepared for. Trista looks over and sees her. A startled look crosses her face. Then a look of fear. Then belligerent anger.

TRISTA (mockingly): Well, well, well. What have we got here, God? A saving angel... How sweet. ( she glances back at the water, then looks again at Amanda) So. You gonna call the cops? ( her look is menacing).

AMANDA: ( with a shaky voice) No... please. I don't want... I... I don't...

TRISTA: ( interrupting) So. You don't want to... what? You don't want to call the po po. Or you don't want this po woman to jump. ( she looks at Amanda hard) don't think you gonna to stop me. Cuz you ain't.

Amanda is shaking. Filled with fear. It's obvious that Trista might do her harm. But she does not turn around just leave. Moments go by. The two women look at each other.

TRISTA: (In a voice of low, threatening anger) you best leave, little girl. Take your grunge a* outa here. You are not welcome in my livin... or in my dyin. This is no place for you.

Amanda does not budge. She's looking more and more resolved. She's fearful, but she does not want this woman to die

TRISTA: (Shouts) GO ON, YOU HIGH-YELLER
!! LEAVE!!

Amanda still stands there. It's obvious that she's not going anywhere. She sees through the woman's anger as fear. She meets her eyes. There seems to be no rancor in her stare. She does not take the insult. She's heard it all before

TRISTA: (In a low, cutting voice) Go on, half-breed. Go on lookin at the white trash. Like you better...

AMANDA: ( obviously digging into her reserves of Bravery) You're not trash...and there's only one race. Human.

TRISTA: ( obviously taken aback but scoffing)
Ah.. ah...HA! HAHAHA.. HAAAW!!! A little Brave One!! Well, I'll be ******. The little brown angel has a voice, God. But it's sayin nothing but *******. Go on out of here little brown angel. Fly fly fly. There ain't nothing for you here, 'cept watchin me die. I can fly too, little brat angel. Or I ustah.... now my wings broken. ( she looks down at the East River again. Her anger has softened. The sadness is coming back into her face)

AMANDA: (softly) You talked to God just now. You believe in him, don't you?

There is a long pregnant pause. Amanda is looking steadily at Trista. Trista is looking down at the water.

AMANDA; (Assertively) DON'T YOU.

TRISTA: Oh, yeah. I believe in 'im. I believe in the devil, TOO. Ben Lorda m' life for years... years... (she's looking down at the water again. Defeatedly.).

AMANDA; Do you really believe that? ( she's looking angry. But she's not mad at Trista. She's mad at the Devil.)

TRISTA: (She's angry again. Her voice is low and cutting) Let me tell you something, little brown angel. I'm not what you would call Saint Catherine. That name means pure. I ain't pure.
I ain't rich and I ain't purdy. I ain't clean and I ain't sober. Only reason I'm not drinking ***** cuz I don't have money. Honey. Only reason I ain't using is same. I'm up against a wall. Wall of pain I can't stand. Can't even buy cigarettes. Had all my money stolen. Most of my stuff. Sleeping on a ******. Oh!! Did I tell you that I a crackhead? Not only crackhead. Crack-w
. Been down on my knees with bums have more money than I had. (Trista looks off into the distance. Seems to reminisce) Came here to the Big Apple full of worms with Big Dreams full of . Wanted to be a Broadway star. Same old story same old dance. Same old tale of Bad Romance. (She starts to look haunted). I had no idea. The lights were on. The big Broadway Times Square LED lights. But nobody was f* home.

AMANDA: (Her eyes full of empathy) You are an actress? What happened?

TRISTA: (Hard. Cold. Cutting.) Not "ARE" little brown angel. WAS. Has been that never was. Too corn pone. Ain't Gon School Nuf. Caint reed. Caint spel.Hell. I aint even got a GED. Shoulda stayed outside Biloxi. Married Bubba. Ben barefoot and preggers...

AMANDA: ( narrowing her eyes and looking at her shrewdly) Why do you talk that way? Like your uneducated? Like you're stupid? Like you're racist? You try to make it out like you are oh, but you slip up too often. Like you told me that the name Catherine means pure. And other things too. You may not have a GED oh, but you ARE intelligent. Act like it!!

TRISTA: ( eyes wide with disbelief) Like you care? Who am I that you should care for me? Who are you that I should care for you? Let me tell you, little brown angel, this world is cruel. It's a meat grinder, and you gonna come out a steamin pile o meat an feathers. Don't you care!! Don't you care about anybody!! Do you hear me? DON'T YOU CARE ABOUT ANYBODY!!! (Starts to cry).Least of all ME.

AMANDA : (slowly) But that's why were put on this Earth. To care about each other. Love each other.

Another pregnant pause

TRISTA: (furious) L... L...LOOOVE!!! LOOOVE!!! What the hell you know about that??? ( Trista swings her legs over the railing and stands to face Amanda) Oh. I know all about THAT, you say. (Sarcastic whine) Cuz I know God... God is love, doncha know... God is ****** F LOVE DONCHA KNOW...

AMANDA: (Cutting her off sharply) do you believe in God? Yes. You do. Otherwise you wouldn't be talking the Way You Are. Then why are you cussing him?

Trista stares at Amanda in disbelief. The two women stare at each other. Trista is furious, but she is met with a look of pure courage, love, and acceptance. Her mouth gapes closed and open like a fish.

TRISTA: (Her voice low and menacing again)  One thing I gotta say bout you. You BRAVE. Don't you realize you're in the middle of New York City. On the Brooklyn Bridge. In the middle of the NIGHT. (Her voice gets louder and louder as she speaks) With a CRAZY WOMAN??!! TALKIN BOUT GOD, WHO THE CRAZY WOMAN HATES?? (Her voice gets low again. She doesn't sound angry anymore though. But profoundly sad) go on now little angel. There's nothing for you here cept death and dying. And the crazy woman who could throw you over the side of this bridge at any time. Might have a knife. Might have a gun. A crazy woman. I'm a crack w
*. Not a nun.

AMANDA: you are a human being. I can't bear the thought that you might die tonight. I might be young, but I know how to take care of myself. I know I might not look like it, but I've got a third degree black belt in Taekwondo. Believe it. I'm no nun either. I may be small, Young, and a Christian, but I know how to take care of myself. If crossed with physical violence I am nothin nice.

Trista looks at Amanda calculatingly. She's intrigued by this girl now. She knows that in a fight the older woman, she would lose. She doesn't want to keep up her bravado. But she has learned over the years not to show any weakness. Not even to a young Christian woman.

TRISTA: my God angel. You haven't got the sense good God gave a no-see-em. Your brain is smaller! You might think you're ten feet tall and Bulletproof. You can kick like a champ, but you're not going to outrun a gun. I could have a gun in my belt. You are a FOOL.

AMANDA: Well. If you had a gun you would have sold it already for ***** and drugs. No. You don't have a gun. As for being a fool, well. I'm not the one who is sitting on a railing considering  suicide.(Her voice gets soft) I'm not going to try to talk you out of this. I have a phone. I want you to call the suicide hotline. Talk to somebody.

Another pregnant pause. Trista looks at Amanda. She sees that she serious. She knows the girl is not giving up now. Her Pride is starting to melt. As is her heart. She's beginning to like this girl now. She's tough and she's Brave. And she seems to really care.

TRISTA: (With a softer, friendlier voice) Well. Aren't we the smarty pants. You're going to get me to talk to somebody now. What you got one of those smartphones? Smartphones for a smarty pants?

AMANDA: (Smiling) it'll feel like it weighs a ton at first. But they can get you help. Maybe what you need is a rehab. Three Hots and a cot anyway. They'll take you in for a while. Have you been sober 24 hours?

Long pause

TRISTA: Yes.

AMANDA;  (Smiling, but with a serious look on her face) Let's get you clean. What's your name?

TRISTA: Trista. TRISTA MEANS SORROW.

AMANDA: (Her eyes begin to well with tears) Not anymore.

A long, long pause

AMANDA: My name's Amanda.

TRISTA:  (her eyes welling with tears, also) Amanda means worthy of love.( Long pause)

YOU ARE.

Amanda takes a cell phone out of the pocket of her hoodie. She holds it out to Trista. After what seems like an eternity, Trista takes it. She walks over to the railing. Sits down on the cement ground. Amanda sits down a little ways away from her. Trista dials. Offstage voice of a woman saying hello. Trista begins to talk to her, Softly.

TRISTA: Hi... can you help me?

[She continues to talk to the voice off stage oh, but it is a mumble and not really heard by the audience... lighting Fades to Black.

Amanda comes into a spotlight. She recites a poem...

BRIDGES

You're lookin' at the river
Feelin' down and weak
When you're
Wadin' in the water
and it's rushing 'round your feet
When you want to
Reach the other side
And feel you can't retreat
The same insane song
In your head
And it is on "repeat"...

Just remember there are Bridges
They are made of words
Remember there are Bridges
Things you haven't heard
Remember there are Bridges
Made with human hands
Remember there are Bridges
Then you'll understand

The waters in that riverbed
They are cold and deep
They have a riptide current
So look before you leap!
You can't stand against them
They will take you down
You may just go under
Brother, sister, you will drown!

Reaching out ain't easy
But it don't get much worse
Than feeling down and vulnerable
Living with a curse
It's like picking up the planet
To lift that lifeline phone
But there people who
Will care for you...
You are not alone!

Just remember there are bridges
They are made of Words,
Remember there are bridges
Things you haven't heard,
Remember there are bridges
Made with God's own hand
Remember there are bridges
Then you'll understand.

Remember there are Bridges
When you are at a loss
They weren't made to jump from

They were made to CROSS.



THE END
Mar 16 · 84
Together We Dance
When I consider others
I help me
The combination creates
the WE


Together we sing harmony!
Together we can dance!
Together we can change the world
Given half a chance!

Together we can raise a barn
Together we can dine!
Together we can share life's feast
There is no "your's" or "mine"!
Together we are stronger
Our efforts are combined!

There are no poets alien
There is no "us" or "them"
Together we can write a bit
Change lives with our pen!


I write for sharing poetry
It's not only *ME
I write for other's benefit!
I write to let it be
I write to share God's goodness
For He has set me FREE!

United we will stand
For when division's in our ranks
We all hit the water
By walking off the plank!
Sharks are in those waters!
And seaweed cold and dank...

Let's share the ship together
Let's all PLEASE agree
Our final destination
Is a land that's free
Please consider others
I know it's not just me
We're in a boat of many flags

Called the WORLD OF POETRY!



SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Mar 16 · 62
The Yoke
A green, unseasoned ox
Was put unto the plow
A yoke was placed upon it
To work the master's rows
It balked at the job given
For it did not know how.

The master saw it's plight
He knew it had to learn
So he brought a great and seasoned ox
And a double yoke was worn
They both pulled a wagon
Filled from stem to stern.

The master tapped them with the reins
They both began to pull
The new and yet unknowing ox
Got it in its skull
To go a path that was unsafe
It's wits were yet quite dull.

So it balked again and cried
To go the other way
But the great and seasoned ox
Stood there in the fray
He allowed the younger ox
To buck and buck all day.

So finally the younger ox
Was tired, began to wheeze
It knew it was defeated
It's pride was finally seized
It bowed down in humility
And fell onto its knees.

The ox cried bitterly
In its enormous shame
The other ox was greatly moved
For its weeping out HIS NAME
He nuzzled it & stroked it
For HE was once the same.

The master, too, came off his seat
And succored the poor beast
He gave it food and water
Held it to his breast
The greater ox lay down with it
So that it could rest.

The young ox finally rallied
Was ready for the fight
Of pulling the great burden...
... but found that it was light!
For the greater ox was pulling, too
He stout and he forthright!

The master smiled proudly
The young ox would reach the goal...

And what WAS this great burden?

Billions of HUMAN SOULS...


SoulSurvivor
(C)1/28/2017


*"Come to me, all you who are weary
and burdened, and I will give you rest.
Take my yoke upon you and learn from
me, for I am gentle and humble in heart,
and you will find rest for your souls.
For my yoke is easy,
and my burden is light."
Matthew 11:28-30 NIV
The Bible gives us great analogies to our walk with the Lord. This particular metaphor, I believe, is extremely apt. In biblical times when there was a great burden to be hauled, the Master of the cart would yoke an unseasoned ox with one who had carried the cart for many years. The younger learned from the older. And the burden what's much lighter for both oxen...

I haven't been around much due to my personal burden. I was also balking at the yoke I was carrying. But Jesus is so gentle and kind. He helped me through it.

Thank you to all who read me! I'm going to be reading myself today...

♡ I £♡¥€ YOU ALL
Mar 14 · 68
Reign of Ashes
Reign of ashes
and fire's sceptre
crown of blood
robe of spectres

dual tounges
speaking stealth
elites on fire
for their wealth

coal black tombs
washed with white
sepulchres
proclaiming "right"

"moral high ground"
in the wrong
they sell us all out
for a song

the rocket's red glare
anthems made of thin air
gave naught to the night
for our flag was NOT THERE

Oh, say, can you see?
or are you yet blind?
for we are not FREE
we are in a bind!

STAR STRANGLED BANNER
thunder rolls, lightning crashes
for whom the bell tolls?
for THEE, REIGN OF ASHES!


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 3/4/2016


WE'VE BEEN SOLD OUT BY EVERY ADMINISTRATION
AND HAVE BEEN FOR YEARS I sincerely hope Trump can fix it!!
Mar 13 · 64
The Garden
of good and evil

-----------/------@

once there grew a garden
of great and mighty trees
flowers of great beauty
but also ugly weeds

their petals never wilted
the green leaves never turned
winter never came there
fire never burned

children came to play
to climb the highest boughs
to pluck as many flowers
as their small hands would allow

some trees had lovely fruits
figs to please the eye
ornamental oranges
the apples of a lie

though they held great beauty
had colors to alure
they held worms and maggots
and tasted of manure

innocent of this
the children picked this fruit
and were poisoned by their evil
for evil was their root

in lands of yellow wheat
those young folk became tares
but they didn't know it
and so did not despair

and so they played and frolicked
so this story goes
and good appeared as ragweed

and evil as a

ROSE


So­ulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 5/12/2015


I often refer to hypocrisy
in some Christian people
as the fruit of the
ornamental orange
Mar 11 · 359
isle of souls
/\^
~~~~~~~

crystal ships
on turquoise seas
bring my love
to me
to me

dancing dolphins
laugh and talk
but they can't bring
my lover
back

for all the
dollars in the sand
I cannot feel
his strong
soft
hand

for
crystal ships
on seas of gold
have taken him
to the
isle
of
souls


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
December 2, 2015
Mar 10 · 83
Looking for Love
15-25
I searched for love in Looks
Handsome face and I was hooked
I was shallow, I got took.
How I cried! The tears that shook
these shoulders due to Looksist lies
These men wore masks just to disguise
Now I find they were no prize.

25-35
I went for intellect.
I was much more circumspect.
But i got what you'd expect.
Just because a person has a mind
doesn't mean they're not unkind.
In fact they're meaner, you may find.

35-45
I looked upon the Heart.
Bravery. One who'd take my part.
I looked for talent, love of Art.
But still, no love did this search bring.
My own heart n'er found its wings.
The Heart deceives above all things.

Now I look not for devices.
That bring only deceitful vices.
I'm not willing for those prices.
My man's not beautiful nor bold.
He is smart, but we're both old.
Upon him I am totally sold...

... I finally looked upon the SOUL.


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 2/9/2016
Mar 10 · 54
Mermaids and Sirens
Out of an arid ocean you came.
Draped in kelp and pearls.
Lush lips and Picean hips
You've been a witness to
The liquid dreams of Neptune,
The lofty spires of Atlantis,
The beaded shores of
Islands unknown,
The phosphoric teeth of
Creatures never seen.
The languid swirling
Of seahorses tantalizing
The mating of tendrils...

Your rivals recline on the
Ravaged rocks... patiently
Waiting for the frigate or
Schooner, or if lucky a
***** Man-o-War. Silent
Smiles perch on their lips...
They look to the broken
Boards and driftwood around
Their rocky abodes. The
Skeletons have sunk into
The sea...

Ahoy! A tall ship, by Poseidon!
They lift their seductive voices
To draw the sailors to the
Rocks & reefs... to no avail!

The mermaids, like dolphins,
Cavortingly draw them with
Their antics to safe harbor!

Jewels adorn their swirling
Hair, and gems their tails.
Their pear-shaped *******
Modestly covered with
Glowing seaweed & shells...

While the sirens sit naked
On the rocks.


SøułSurvivør aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis
(C) 5/27/2017
Mar 10 · 50
Hate this poem.
"There is none who does good,
no, not one." Romans 3:12


How is it, do you suppose,
Is it "good" for babies
Before they grow
To be dismembered,
Is that fair?
To be cut off without a care?

How is it "good" for
Those who sin
To be told time & again
That it's "natural", it's ok,
"You were only born this way."

Is it right to cheat on taxes?
This among the common "lapses".

Is it fine to defame folks?
To have some "fun".
Tell your "jokes".
Well. God don't
Find it very funny.
And on this you
Can bet big money!

How 'bout heartbreak?
Unrestraint in ***?
Harming while you
Flex your pecs.
Quite a woman
Quite the man
So ****!
So much demand!

You're quite intelligent
You're quite rich.
You are so beautiful
You sing on pitch.
You're so proud
You're so vain
You're so loud
You're a pain!

You own a castle
In a foreign land
To bad it's built
On sinking sand...

I've been reading
In a Book
I think you'd better
Have a look.
I've been too nice
I've been too "kind"
I've winked at sin
And left you blind!

Jesus is knocking
At your door
I won't be silent
Anymore.

I will be hated
This I know
But, God bless me
I will show
Love for you
It may be odd
It will show
My love for God. aka



SøułSurvivør aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
March 9, 2025
Catherine Jarvis
|>
|
/\
/   \
/      \
¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤
in a time
of pain &
□sorrow□
□there is□
hope, there is a way
there's a place to go
in hardship□there's
a space for us today
Jesus stands as our¤
High Tower□He has
been there all along
□if you but ask He'll
let you enter□a fortress built
so high and strong □ on the □
mountain□in the valley□when
the pushing comes to shove□we
are safe forevermore□□□within
the Tower of Your Love/how can
we when troubles find us□keep
our hope□in patience wait?□
when all mortal strength has
left us□we will rest in walls
so great□help us, Lord, and
be our shelter□we'll find□□
□quiet in the storm □let the
sturdy Rock around us keep
us safe from all alarm□could
we ever find this peace? How
should we ever find this vale?
could we ever find this joy□□
□if the Tower won't prevail?
□may it ever be that we □□□
in faithfulness now tried and
true□□□find with gratitude so
deep□□the High Tower that is
You□ we will e'r find victory□
□□□the might that's sent from
heaven above□we'll stand□□□
within God's mighty Fortress

The High Tower of Your Love



SøułSurvivør
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 4/6/2013


This is something I wrote a while back. I just wanted to create concrete poetry from this particular piece. Thanks for reading
Mar 8 · 46
the unseen
(=!=)/

where's the latent?
the unseen?
where's the mind
conceiving dreams?
the little man
behind the screen?
the ideas
in between
the leather cover
of a book?
it must be opened
for a look

where's the flower
in a ****?
where's the tree
withina seed?
it is there
that much agreed

where's the woman
In a girl?
the ocean in
a polished pearl?

there are leagues
within the legs
there are
eagles within eggs

there is
nothing that's for naught
behind the forehead
there's a thought

within a scroll
there is a chart
within a chest
there is a heart

within a matrix
there is gold
behind the eyes
there is a

SOUL

there is soil
beneath grass so green
look beyond for

the unseen



SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
2/16/2016
Mar 6 · 2.0k
Paper World (10W)
____
|                    |
|                   |
  |                   |  
---‐--------------

the earth isn't flat
like paper
it's an origami crane



SøułSurvivør aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
is it the forest or the trees
where the real truth lies?
is it in elephant graveyards
where a true heart dies?
and how can sages ask
the wherefores and the whys?

there's only One who measures
the circumference of the skies.


soulsurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 8/26/2015
Mar 3 · 60
I Welcome You To Hell
I Welcome You to Hell
I am a dear "friend" of yours
Yes, you know me well
If you know my name or not
Only time will tell.

There's a rave that's going on
A place that I have found
Kids! You need to go there!
Tho it's 6 feet underground...

All dressed up? Ready to go?
I tell you... it's a blast!
You won't know it's a furnace
And the pain will always last.......

There's party treats for everyone!
Maggots are just grand!
There's no food or water
But there's a Mega Band!

Come! We're getting closer!
And I have a hunch
That you won't mind the sulfur
No, you won't mind the stench

What's that noise, you ask me?
Oh... it's not what it seems!
Those are the amped-up guitars
NOT a-g-o-n-i-z-e-d screeeeams!

Don't mind the cuts & scratches
Don't mind all the flies
Don't mind that I am uglier
I'm losing my disguise...

Oh, are you uncomfortable?
Is it getting HOT in here?
Well, sorry, there ain't any punch
Much less any beer...

Yes, it IS most very DARK
It's very black and dank
Are you having trouble breathing?
Is the odor getting rank?

Ah! Now you see the lava
Is leaving your desire?
Sorry, your ticket was one-way
To the burning lake of fire...

Yes, regret's your portion
For your soul you did sell
You'll be here e--t--e--r--n--a--l--l--y

I Welcome You to Hell.



SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 6/28/2016
Þhere are actually kids (of all ages) who believe hell is one big rave... oh, there will be raving alright... in endless pain and terror!
Mar 3 · 86
Lovers (10W)
\/💙💚\/


we stare into each other's eyes
'til their colors

blend


10W
soulsurvivor aka
Ŵrite of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 7/21/2015
Mar 1 · 76
Fight the Devil!
Dark Tracing on Tattered Window Panes
Eulogize ripped tears
Hazardous sight, from eyes of night
Fallen creatures they shun the light.
Catastrophic wailing
Cacophonous they weep
Pounding fists upon my eyes
Curtailing chance of sleep
Piercing me with sorrows
Flailing by the moon
They grow upon hate
It won't abate
It will not leave me soon

It would have me trembling
In agony of distress
But I won't let it bully me...

I WILL GET MY REST!!!


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 6/21/2016
I'm putting on praise music.
The enemy fights but HE WON'T WIN.

Going to bed now. G'night.
Mar 1 · 291
Songbird
^¡^

I heard a desert bird
sing a new song this morning

yes... before the sunrise

i recognized it as the
song of a cactus thrasher
but it had added a
new note to it's call

i've never, in my 40+ years
in the desert, heard it's like!

it must've found love

i know

because i myself
found a new note

the first time i said your name.


soulsurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(c) 5/31/2015
When I wrote this I ehad a new love I met online.  But a long oʻng distance love affair is like taking a bite of a chocolate bar with the wrapper on
Feb 28 · 51
GENESIS
In the beginning
was the
WORD

God spoke all things
into existence.

He literally sculpted all things
by the power of His
words

That, for a poet, should be
EXCITING!


John 1
Genesis

SøułSurvivør aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc

Catherine Jarvis
Feb 28 · 303
Chains
::::
The chains
'round      my
ankles      are
sterling fine
the
very
   best      that  
I could
find
:::
The
chains   'round
your     neck
are purest
gold
and
the      lock
will      cost
your
very
SOUL


So­ulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) September 17
2014
Feb 28 · 83
Chains
::::
The chains
'round      my
ankles      are
sterling fine
the
very
   best      that  
I could
find
:::
The
chains   'round
your     neck
are purest
gold
and
the      lock
will      cost
your
very
SOUL


So­ulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) September 17
2014
Feb 26 · 69
My Side of the Street
I lived in a war zone
Streets filled with razor wire
Nothing much to cling to
Nothing to inspire

On one side was my enemy, and
Filled with angst and hate
I lobbed all sorts of insults
The war would not abate

But one of my neighbors
Suggested that I find
Some forgiveness in my heart
To give me peace of mind

And so I started cleaning
Picked up all my waste
Swept up in all the corners
And found peace at last!

Across the street they saw plain
The white flag I errected
It was a thing that gave them pause
Not what they expected!

They threw trash, and they threw dirt
Upon my sidewalk paved
But i expect that I just swept
And gave a friendly wave!

After a while of this response
They were in retreat!
They could never get a rise!
They knew their hate was beat!

And so together as one
We removed the razor strands
And had a big BLOCK PARTY!
We even had a band!

And so "us" and "them"
Finally became "we"
No more HATE! Isn't that GREAT?!!

*At last we're finally FREE!


"Blessed are the peacemakers, for they
shall be called Children of God."
Jesus Christ in the Sermon on the Mount


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc

Catherine jarvis
Feb 25 · 60
Envy's Edge
envy
is a strange emotion
you get caught up in the motion,
thoughts that give you the strong notion
others are more blessed than you
in what they have and what they do
and so jealousy ensues.

I'm an amateur and I know it
I have no background as a poet
I have no sheepskin. No degree.
No tenures. University.
I'm just here to simply state
I don't rank there with the greats.

When I see the stats of other folks
I don't poke fun and make rude jokes.
Yes. My heart, it sometimes breaks
Do I have the art it takes?
It sometimes makes me sad and blue
I would like to be like you...
but honesty is my ego's salve
it takes time I do not have
I'm happy with the things I've done
I am here to have some fun!
I'm also here to be inspired
Your poetry makes my level higher!

This goes out to loving peers...
thank you all for being here!


♡ Catherine
I
Feb 24 · 52
Lucky Gate 13
Walking through the airport one rainy afternoon
She was sitting there, at Gate 13
The woman had a dress on a denim shade of blue
Loveliest **** girl I'd ever seen!

I wanted to go up to her, then I heard her cry
She shed her tears so lonely, just like the rainy sky
She sobbed and sobbed so hard, just like she would die,
And right then I knew some man had told a lie...
Had told a lie.

I decided to approach her, very shy due to her grief
She looked up with a little frown
I took in her hands and arms, she was shaking like a leaf
Home sewn dress told me a little town

Her eyes said...
Too late for her to fall
Too quick to say goodbye

Too young to understand
Too old to tell a lie

I just sat down next to her
I didn't want to pry

Too late for me to fall
Too quick to say goodbye


I am still working on this CW song,
I welcome constructive criticism


SøułSurvivør
Feb 24, 2025
Prophecy of the Ages: Isaiah 1

Burning 🔥 city's pain and sorrow
God makes the plow dig deep and harrow
The fruit of mercy and compassion
He the Lord in Wrath and Passion
Don't you see you pray is error?
The flames of Judea are your mirror!
Go plant and grow your vines of pity!
Then I will restore your cities
They will not be restored they say
Gomorrah's darkness ,feet of clay
*****, yes!they will have to pay!
San Francisco and LA.
A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

BACKGROUND

I was born Catherine Eugenia Jarvis,  and I was a *horrible
child. The kinda kid that you'd LOOK for if she got lost... but NOT very hard. I was the sandwich child. The red headed one. The BAD girl. A terrible tease.

But inside I SO longed to be loved. There just wasn't alot of that to go 'round. Mom was working or sick. And dad worked LONG hours. My sister and I were ***** at age 4 & 3 respectively. She felt guilty she couldn't "protect" me, so she withdrew. Then my little brother was born. He was my sister's little doll. And it wounded me so that I lashed out. I targeted my poor little brother. I called him names, names that I knew went straight to his HEART. I'm weeping now. How I wish I could change the past! Dear reader, I have a samurai tongue. And I knew how to cut where it would hurt the MOST. A fact I'm not at all proud of! Inside i wept SO bitterly! I did not want to do what I did! But SOMETHING compelled me...

Then at the age of 13 I began to drink. I started using "white crosses". ***. By 14 I was using LSD. ***. Peyote. I was SO out of control!  My poor parents despaired...

Then... a MIRACLE! My parents put me in college when I was 16. I hated high school with a PASSION. I didn't fit in anywhere. Not even with the stoners. I was kicked out of my 10th year for ditching and possession of marijuana. My vice-principle told me I'd always be a LOSER. That I'd never accomplish anything in life. Nice. He put me in Juvie. My parents got a psychologist. He said I was bored in high school because I was too smart. So they put me in college. I THRIVED! I still ditched a bit, but I could take ART CLASSES! And WRITING! POETRY! And MUSIC! And the people were SO different! They LIKED ME! Well. Part of THAT was because I lost weight. About 50 lbs! I was actually pretty. For the first time in my life. And to say THAT was confusing wouldn't be nearly enough.

At any rate, I'd CHANGED. I became very spiritual. I read about Transcendental Meditation. I read the book "Siddhartha". I dabbled in the Self Realization Fellowship.
And, finally, I joined the

"Church" of Scientology.

THE WORST MISTAKE OF MY YOUNG LIFE


I was 19 years old.
The first thing I want to say is that I HAVE CHANGED. I'm NOT the mean little girl I was. I've tried all my life to be KIND. To make up for the evil I did as a child. You'll find out. Just read on...

I'm reposting this as this cult is still very active and powerful. They have MONEY...

I've been brutally honest for a reason. I want you to understand why my family thought evil of me. They did, but THEY WERE NOT AT FAULT.

.My story continues with my scientology experience. Don't want to miss THAT.

Coming tomorrow...
Feb 23 · 66
Ocean
why
do i see
my face
in the

mirror

why do i
see my breath
superimposed
upon the
cold night
sky

i died
long ago

drown in
your ocean
no deeper
than a

pane

of

glass



soulsurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
catherine jarvis
(c) october 9, 2014
If a heart broke in the forest...
... would you hear a sound?

Where's the sound
of a heart breaking?
Is it a mighy noise?
What kind of music does it play?
The lullaby destroys!

Where's the crash of a soul cracking?
Is it in the rushing wind?
Is it in leather'n flapping wings
As all of Hell decends?

Where's a bass cocophany
In the wrist that bleeds?
What sort of soil accepts and grows
The poison crimson seeds?

Where's the green stick fracture?
Where's the ruptured spleen?
Where's the cancer in the brain?
Where is the pain unseen?
the Foe Forest
And what if the
Entire moon should crack?
And all the high stars fell?
There's an end... and you decend...

... into the pits of HELL.



SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Feb 22 · 65
vacuum
nature,
abhorrent
of a
void
creates
the
space
in the
conscious mind
for

POETRY

and
only a
poet
can

FILL IT


soulsurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis
once there grew a garden
of great and mighty trees
flowers of great beauty
but also ugly weeds

their petals never wilted
the green leaves never turned
winter never came there
fire never burned

children came to play
to climb the highest boughs
to pluck as many flowers
as their small hands would allow

some trees had lovely fruits
figs to please the eye
ornamental oranges
the apples of a lie

though they held great beauty
had colors to alure
they held worms and maggots
and tasted of manure

innocent of this
the children picked this fruit
and were poisoned by their evil
for evil was their root

in lands of yellow wheat
those young folk became tares
but they didn't know it
and so did not despair

and so they played and frolicked
so this story goes
and good appeared as ragweed

and evil as a

ROSE





SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis

(C) 5/12/2015



I often refer to hypocrisy
in some Christian people
as the fruit of the
ornamental orange
Feb 16 · 79
City of Angels
Summer 1986 Sunday 5:30AM

Misty morning in Malibu.
Seagulls stitch the sea to a subtle
silver sky. They sputter stridently.
Each elegant gull hovers effortlessly.
Entreating each other. Echos bounce
off the sound of the surf into eternity. The screeching of many a
soliloquy akin to silence.

I sit on the pier. The water before
me washes onto the staccato legs
of tiny waterbirds who wander
in and out of the surf. Little
windblown ***** of ecru and grey
wool. I worship in the womb of
the great goddess ~ nature. I wasn't to know the Creator was watching patiently...

6:30AM
I make my unhurried way up the
pier to my car. A cheap but
comfortable convertable. Nobody
walks in LA. I punch in a tape.
Don Henley. Boys of Summer.

I take PCH up to the incline that
takes you from the beach. Pushing
the pedal slightly as I slide by the
colossal bleached cliffs of
Palacades Park. There the homeless
sleep under the benches dedicated
by friends and family in
rememberance of loved ones.
Small plaques attatched for
posterity.

My hands are on the steering wheel
at 7 and 12 o'clock.I look at the cast
I wear on my right wrist. A token
of rememberance from an angry romance. He and I parted
respectively, if not at all
respectfully. I drive.

7:00AM
Venice beach. Not yet boysterous.
But never boring. The young people
(and old) still bundled together in bed. Saturday night hangovers will
be had by most of the denizens of
Venice beach boardwalk. A grainy
eyed few wander around abstractidly. Shopowners enter
their buildings, their storefronts
almost as small as booths. Graphitti
and giant works of art grace walls
everywhere ~ Jim Morrison and
Venus in workout leggings much
in evidence.

I smoke my cigarette and drink my
hot coffee carefully in the open cafe'.
I consider the eyefest of the crowd
that will congregate here to enjoy
the clement weather.
The cacophony and the clamor.
Touristas and Los Angelinos alike
drawn In by calculating vendors
and coyote souled street performers.
I look forward to seeing the
non conformity usually. But not
today. For now I sit in the quiet cafe'.

Venice beach. Vulpine. Vacuous.
A strangely vunerable venue. The
***** and the beautiful. The talented and the ******.

A street performance pianist trundles his acoustic piano on
casters out onto the boardwalk.
I ask him if I may play. He looks
at my cast doubtfully.
"I can still play..." I tell him.
He ascents and listens thoughtfully
as I play my compositions. He really
likes them. I ****** the ebony and
the ivory with insistant fingers.
The smile on his face is irrepressable. I smile back and we
flirt in self conceous, fitful fashion.
Time to leave.

9:00AM
Radio is on in my car now. A cut
from the musical Chess. One night
in Bangkok makes the hard man
humble... I like the driving beat.
I'm going up I-10, a single blood cell
in the main artery that brings life
to the flesh of this mamouth town.
Traffic is tenuous. A boon here in
this conjested city.

I drive to Fairfax and Sunset, where
I lived with in a tiny one-bedroom
apartment with my mom. An
ambitious actress. I an ambivalent
artist.

Sunset. The Roxy and Whiskey-a-
Go-Go. Cartoon characters Rocky
and Bullwinkle casually cavort on
the top of a building. Billboards
as tall as the Hollywood sign. The
street of broken hearts for many
an actress -slash-model. They
wander about on street corners
looking haughty and haunted.
Waiting for who knows who to
honk. Their dreams have flown
away like the exhailation of smoke
from the mechanical lungs of the
Marlboro Man. Schwab's drugstore
and diner. The place where some
famous starlet was discovered.
Delivered into the arms of the
Hollywood machine. I opt to go
to the Sunset Grill.

11:00AM
I'm walking down Hollywood Blvd.
Perusing shops and persuing
pedestrian pleasures. Everyone
talks of the star-studded sidewalks.
To me they look tarnished and
filthy. Stars from a sultry smog
laden sky come to earth. The names
of some of the folks honored on
them I don't recognise.

I'm here to view movies today.
I'm definitely not going to
Grauman's Chinese Theater.
Been there. Done that. Gave the
very expensive T shirt to
Goodwill. I look around at the
proud and the plebian. The pedantic
and the pathetic. No prostitutes
out yet that I could see. Probably
toppled into bed to sleep
(for once). Deposed kings
and queens of the monarchy of the
night. The homeless hobble along
with their hair matted and askew.
Shopping carts with stuttering
wheels de reguer.

A couple of tourists with Izod shirts,
plaid shorts to the knee and deck
shoes sans socks gaze in a shop
window. It's borded by tarnished
and faded silver garlands... tinsel
Christmas tree.
"Want to buy a mood ring today?"
One of them querys his buddy,
laughingly.

I find my small theater and enter
the air conditioned lobby. I purchase
a soda and pass on the popcorn.
As I enter the theater's modestly
plush, dimly lit cocoon sanctuary
I notice very few patrons are here
for the matinee. GOOD. I finally
watch the premiere product of
Los Angeles. Movie after movie
slides across the screen. The callus
morally corrosive corporations
conspire with the creative to produce
the culmination of many art forms
in one. Cinema.

LA. Languid. Luxurious. Legendary.
Rollicking, raunchy rodeo.
Seaside city. Sophisticated. Spurious.

SPECTACULAR.

8:00PM
I wend my way up Mulholland Dr.
Another tape is playing in the deck.
One of my favorites. David + David.
Welcome to the Boomtown.

I pull over at a deserted vista. From
this viewpoint I can see the city
spread out like a blanketfof brilliance. The gridiron of LA.
Glitzy and glamorous. Generating
little gods and goddesses. A gigantic
gamble for the disingenuous and
gouache. Tinsel town. Titillating.
Tempestuous. Only the very brave
bring their dreams here... or fools
rush in where angels fear to tread.
All but the fallen angels. They thrive.

Oh! If this place could be bottled it
would be such sweet poison. I
look up at the auburn sky and back
down at the breathtaking panorama
The metropolis that is LA with awe
and angst. I carefully stub out my
cigarette and flip it irreverantly
toward the lagoon of lights.

I get in my car to drive home.
Home?
Could this imposing, inspiring,
impossible place be called home?

Well. Home is where the heart is.
And I live in the heart of a dream.
This is the city of dreams...

CITY OF ANGELS.

SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine E Jarvis
(C) 2005
This was hard to read. I lived in LA for 6 years. I had a love/hate relationship with the angels of the Pacific Coast.  But the fire has ravaged her. I doubt she will ever be restored fully. The love side of the relationship with her weeps. The hate side says "you got what you deserved".
Feb 16 · 89
The Love of God
Could we with ink the ocean fill,
  And were the skies of parchment made;
Were every stalk on earth a quill,
  And every man a scribe by trade;
To write the love of God above
  Would drain the ocean dry;
Nor could the scroll contain the whole,
  Though stretched from sky to sky.

"The Love of God"
This is the last stanza of the old hymn. It was said to be written on the wall of an asylum. But the author is unknown.
Feb 16 · 63
Blue Note Special
Blue Note Special
Your ears were trumpets
Your teeth were keys
Your eyes were drums
Their rhythms cease
Behind them the color
Of disease
Blue note special
There is no peace.

Your hands were golden
Your feet were clay
Your head was sodden
Your hips were grey.
Your legs were green
You paid your way
Now all we can do
Is sit and pray


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis
Lucifer was the most beautiful creature in heaven. He was made of musical instruments according to  the Book of Enoch. Some say he's a lion with no teeth... they couldn't be more wrong!
Feb 15 · 94
Night Court
Death comes an infant
Biting on the breast.
A nightɓirds's call...
a weighted chest.

Death comes a jester.
How he cavorts!
Kings and Queens laugh
And reign in his court.

They jeer his antics!
They do... for now.
But in the end

THEY SHALL ALL BOW.


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/28/2017
Feb 15 · 369
sans
~~~






a lone
heart like is a
crystal vase
without a
l
o
n  
g  
s  
t    
e  
m
e
  d
  r
o
s
e
Feb 14 · 57
Xylophone
There are so many poems
making music
of their own

They are in my
ribcage
beating on my

BONES!

(ouch!)


20W
Soul Survivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
Catherine Jarvis
(C) March 20, 2014
Next page