Contamination seeps and weeps from pores and migrates from your skin to mine
I cannot see it but I feel it, sliding over me and sinking through layers
Through my skin and my nerves and my tissue down right to my bone
Where you pause; take a breath, look around;
Try on my internal machinery for size and speed and duration
Drag and rip and tear my insides for a sign and the very spark of life
Then, once located you break through, right down and into my marrow
And consume all it is there that makes me immune
Become a part of me in the parts that I was not even aware existed
A lovely parasite who feeds on my secrets and bathes in my blood
A darkness within which perfectly mirrors that already present
Both of me and alien, twisting the two so intertwined that no lines can be drawn
Until we are but intermingled and so all is lost in bones that have become yours
All that skin and those nerves and those tissues, lost unto me and gained by you
To be devoured through duplicities of dancing and deception  
A most beautiful way to die, to simply cease to exist to be
Devoured by a love so consuming and false that not a trace will remain
When you do not falter but dance on; playing out your parody of happiness
With all of those who once thought that they too knew the steps

But now what remains at last knows better
And as it burns it both regrets and adores you
It both loves and it hates you
Wanting but denying the need for a being so superfluously mendacious in their meaning
So extensionally versatile with their morals and reduced in magnitude by their ploys
Now the ash can rise above, constrained by no sentiments to bind nor naivety to hope
To fade into comforting insignificance as you compose a ******* of life with bitter strings
Tying irreversible knots in all others connected to your skin; secured by but the very finest of threads
On the edge and ready to leap; always with a larger hand in sight and the treachery to take it.

Pools of anguish overflow
   a solemn, silent dirge
From the opaqueness of my soul
   all my fears converge
Pretty lights on the horizon
   blotted out by rain
Is this desolation
   or could lucidity be so plain?

A picture is worth a thousand words but a word can paint a thousand pictures,
Depending on where you stand with your current emotional mixture,
Is it really so hard to Imagine everything isn't what we see?,
But only a picture in our minds of what we really want it to be?,
Intentions are energy made manifest by the way we carry on our day,
Reality is simply a karmic dance and we choose what music to play,
There's this indescribable beauty hidden in and all around,
What vibrates in our minds and hearts came from the sky and ground,
How small we are with endless space lurking in waiting within,
We really are deep vast oceans with our bodies as layers of ice so thin,
I wish so bad you could come with me I want to take you to the quiet,
But we can only meet there in harmony once you have decided to try it,
Thoughts are like food we can pick and choose which ones to digest,
The complexity of simplicity is clarity when we finally put our minds to rest.

Sometimes we live our lives out of fear.
Sometimes we are unaware of what is actually real.
Sometimes we take things for granted before they disappear.  
Sometimes we need to break our glasses to see in the clear.

Look around and what do you see?
Beauty lies within the nature of every facet you perceive.
Take a moment to suddenly pause time;
becoming aware of your zen state of mind.

When you observe droplets of water falling from the engorging sky,
visualize that moment frozen in time.
Become mindful of the chemical process elegantly combined;
as you experience the moment before it passes by.

Clarity will suddenly reach its remarkable peak,  
after reliving the vicarious journey of the droplets feat.

Sometimes we stop living our lives out of fear.
Sometimes in the mist we become aware of what is real.
Sometimes we cease taking things for granted after they disappear.  
Sometimes we need to fix our glasses to continue seeing clear.

By: Michael M. De La Fuente

In plain sight, the Peacocks ply their wearisome
Colours.  Awkwardly swaying, pompously preening,
They cry to be seen, their voices are gurgling  
And gawking.  The direction of wind is their vane.

Overhead, in the secret sky fleet wings are truth.
In the sun the searing Falcon is seeing all;
His talons turn and steal away, they are mad,  
Playful fingers— they will have their say.

Pray for the strength to be positive through the negatives,
If you want to catch a break well first something has to give,
So give your heart and mind to everything you do,
As souls we perform wonders I just wish we only knew,
Unknowing is true wisdom accepting what we can't grasp,
It's ok we have today and it could be our last,
In a way it is because it will never come again,
And all the before and afters are really just pretend,
This moment is peaceful if you recognize it as such,
Life is a blank canvas and you hold the paint brush,
Attachment is derailment for the peaceful train of thought,
If you always want more you'll never be happy with what you've got,
Loving what you have gives you everything you need,
I am as I am this is the true meaning of to be.