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Chasing a thought that slipped;
the worst part is knowing it's still up here. [point to head]
I just have to reconnect those ******* neurons
the way I did so effortlessly the first time
and then BOOM:
re-revelation!
One account for all of Google;
at your fingertips
at your doorstep.
 Nov 2013 Sub Rosa
Jay
Growing Up
 Nov 2013 Sub Rosa
Jay
Here Lies The Teenager:
Somewhere between awkward love making
and suicidal tendencies.
Note to self
Stop writing poetry for members of the opposite ***
In a crude attempt for ****.
The efficacy is still up for debate  
and you're left with a beautiful creation that memories generated are absofuckinglutely hated
Like that foul mouthed gingerkid from pre-school
COME HERE YOU LITTLE ******* SO I CAN BEAT YOU WITH MY SHOE *******
YOU DON'T KNOW ABOUT THE WOODEN SPOON
I'LL SWALLOW YOUR SOUL!
        I'LL SWALLOW YOUR SOUL!
BOW BEFORE MY MINISTRY OF DARKNESS ALL YOU DESTESTABLE *****
this is my deconstructed distraction from reality  destruction from abstraction
wherefore art thou sanity
ADD
Cry/ Get baked/ Ooh shiny/ *******/ Dyslexia/HAIL SATAN/
HEIL SANtA
 Nov 2013 Sub Rosa
Lizzy
Drugs
 Nov 2013 Sub Rosa
Lizzy
Love is not a drug
Because that would imply that
Love is a bad thing
Never compromise thy Light.

Though, in Dark Times,
thy Light may seem irrelevant,
please do try to bear in Mind:
Darkness is but absence of Light;
and thus, I'm compelled to reiterate:

Never compromise thy Light.
Inspired by a poem by Kelly Rose;
dedicated to anyone who needs it.
You are not your Body,
but your Body is your Temple;
and your Temple is the only Altar
at which I'm compelled to worship.

The Goddess I know is present
The Goddess I know and love
The Goddess known to you as "I"
dwells within that earthly Temple
thus is thy Temple my Altar

I want to darken the room;
to turn off the lights
draw the curtains
and then to light candles
and disrobe our Temples
and lay upon a bed of satin
and to begin to carefully trace
the subtle curves, circles, arcs and lines of your Temple
with the lips, tongue, teeth and fingertips of mine
and to forget the sense of Time
we both know so well by now;

I want the Music of the harmonies of our Temples
to drown out the music of the turntable

I want the rhythm of our Love
to pulse so deep into the Night
that it comes back out the other side

I want the melodies we accidentally sing
to make the Moon and Stars blush with envy

I want to worship your Temple
in all the ways that we'd see fit;

I want us to moan in blissful, belligerent unison,
our eyes meeting with such electricity
that the spark creates ephemeral dim light
just before the magnetism pulls us together
and we kiss a kiss to end all kisses
just before we kiss a kiss to begin it all again.

I want this holy communion
under naked moonlight of Love
and I want to hold your Temple
until all Temples cease to be.

Time has no meaning
when we're apart.
Time has yet less meaning
when we're together.

I love you and your magnificent Temple,
my one and only Earthly Goddess,
and I can wish for nothing more
than to be able
to make you unable
to doubt it,
once more.
Love, and moreover ***, are deeply spiritual to me, as you may have noticed.
This poem is about that notion more so than an individual,
although an individual sure comes to mind
(though, she'll likely never read this unless I mail it to her; which I did)
 Nov 2013 Sub Rosa
James Joyce
Gentle lady, do not sing
Sad songs about the end of love;
Lay aside sadness and sing
How love that passes is enough.

Sing about the long deep sleep
Of lovers that are dead, and how
In the grave all love shall sleep:
Love is aweary now.
 Nov 2013 Sub Rosa
Abigail
On Tuesday, my silly mind
raided its cluttered drawers
For a scrap of reason as to why
she won't deserve
a sunset hour by your side
On this or any Friday
 Nov 2013 Sub Rosa
Jarel Allen
Just like the flower, you are a lotus
You keep me coming back forever making me not wanting to leave. And At the taste of one bite, I already want more. You give me life, at the same time hold me captive. I adore your creation, as I'm deteriorating from within. You make me feel that 1 may be a lonesome number, yet I'm better by myself. Testing the waters with something new, instead of wasting my time being infested by you. You took my heart and hold inside of a jar collecting them leaving many men with open scars. Keeping me inside of this prison where I can't break these bars. Baby, this isn't love.

Love is when you continue to finish my sentences. Accepting my wrongs instead being my critic. Love is when I am able to feel our souls combining at ever kiss we commit. Sealing the deal of trust, instead of holding me inside this solitary confinement. Love is when I'm afraid of losing you, like a lost child away from his mother. Love is when I can feel the connection as I lay deep inside your blue ocean sea. Love is when your palm rest on my chest and you feel my heartbeat being in-sync with your own. We become one, a metronome. Beating at every tic to every toc. Where is my love?

I know she is out there waiting as she stares at the empty side of her California king bed. There lies an empty space for me ready to occupy, but I have to somehow break out of this lie. Break out of this jail that I once called home. Take these chains that bind me feet and pray to Jesus to forgive me for my lust. The emptiness I have committed myself to through lust instead of love  I'm just a little white dove on the edge of a branch waiting to take that first flight in the world. I don't sing, because this caged bird is afraid to spread his wings. Afraid of not being able to find my sleeping Beauty in her tower, waiting for me. All I need is some guidance, and a little bit of hope.


I'm ready to break free, Jesus has talked to me, answered my prayers. I got down on my knees and begged Him for forgiveness. Asking Him to break these chains. And That's exactly what he did, and the next thing to happen to me was incredible. I no longer bit from the lotus that held me inside the lies I called love. I left that broken home where that infested ***** took me for her own, her slave.

Now I lay across from my sleeping beauty of restless nights. Cuddled and snuggled in between her thighs it's passion. She is the fruit of my looms. Our souls reached out for each other and the love began. And as I know rest my head on top of her breast, I heard a pulse. Yes, a pulse. 2 beats  combined into one, I then knew Jesus' work was done.
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