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  Nov 2019 Cyd
james m nordlund
Soon to be matter that supposedly doesn't,

it only being 99.9 to the infinite place %

of an evolving, expanding, inconceivable Cosmos,

a Bodhi, as 'twas, everywhere and nowhere at once,

with heart, Like the wind moves, not love nor hate,

only everything and nothing at all, at once, thrives.

A sea of souls, waves crest, trough, love is.

Gaia's imploring, humanity be not my stillbirth,

is all sea's songs accompaniment now, as acid rain always falls.

Will you dance, "leap, contend", be agua uncontainably gesturing?

Will humans be that evolutionary jump, back to the evolution

and the future they'll only have if they do?  Are you life?
Waves wear on stone, it gives way, stone stays, waves go away.   Indivisible, illimitable u's inner-nature's abundance self-actuating in the world   :)   reality
Cyd Aug 2019
Somewhere we were two crescent shaped bodies hidden away in a house owned by a bank
The broken blinds didn’t completely block out the lights so I only saw you in fragments
Mystery intriguing the deepest parts of my mind

Neither of us wanted to be in solitude so we climbed under the sheets where enigma could meet enigma
In the darkness you muttered something
Those words you spoke held such animus
Yet you dressed and fed them to me so well

Two young fiends just feeding off the breath and standing on the shoulders of the other
Today I'm wearing my tears in plain sight, in the ducts of my eyes
In contrast to the rage in yours so maybe well look like we actually
belong together
Cyd Aug 2019
stomach in my head
my head scattered every where
red is the abyss
no longer am I fearing
I doze with a grin, knowing
Cyd Jul 2019
young stoic autumn
grasshopper chirps beyond days
aromatic rain
Cyd Nov 2018
Before you I longed to be noticed, never to think how closely.
Ripe and married in the eyes of the lord the daunting task to officiate our union felt anything but holy.
And just like the crisp of fall ends and the swift frost of winter enters the atmosphere, almost like a magic trick a part of me was purged.
Life a new as a wife and soon to be mother.
Self stripped of character, creating a fresh flesh slate-stone the record of my rebirth will be set in.
Tattered house dresses replacing the prized complimentary gowns.
Once being looked upon with passion and effervescence now casted glances of carnal lust and depreciation advanced towards me.
Self abnegation and nothing less, a ladies place.
Locker room talk and snickers laced with malice, “A ladies place?” Contradiction in that thought.
A ladies place is on the front lines, behind closed doors.  
Tears over teenaged heartbreak wisk away into the air and settle now as young runny noses and dry whining eyes.
The name called up on you now only referring to the status provided.
A fathers daughter, a mans wife and a sons mother.
Cyd Nov 2018
You were autumn in the bush that kept me at least tepid, as I made the unknowing decision to journey through that barren waste land. If I was anything to you i was a grain of wheat, I had to let my love for your fall and perish before us. You spent four nights inside of my tomb. You lead me to love myself in my own self perpetuated hell. Four nights I was able to set aside the fig leaves my late father gifted me. On the fourth you left my walls stained, the same color of your blood. Like Lazarus, it had seemed as though you brought me back. My yearning no longer a lamb but a wolf, with the sharp, black eyes that refused to be covered. And you were just another false prophecy.

— The End —