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Carl Webb II Mar 30
demons and angels.
horns and halos.
wings and wings.
even the pharaoh,
born with Plato,
sings and sings:

“I long for heaven
as well as hell.”

these aren’t just sevens,
they’re eights as well.
the time will tell.

—————————————

o’, thank the stars for darkness,
thank the lord for ghouls and goblins,
thanking god for satan’s roar?

playing the cards of hearts
to flash in clubs with diamonds,
save the spades and maybe score?

what more is said
for parity?

win the best and lose some more
for charity?

nevertheless and neverthemore
the wrongs go right
for parody?

enter a death
to save a life,
and lose the mind
to get to therapy?

nothing is left for days
and nights bereft,
we fuss and fight
for clarity.

nothing is left for days
and nights bereft,
we fuss and fight
for clarity.
Carl Webb II Mar 13
unending reminders that what we see is what we are
this glass reflects
that, which we see is who we are
. . . pellucid mirrors . . .
that, which we see is what’s become
this glass reflects
unending reminders that what we see is what we’ve done
Carl Webb II Mar 3
you believe in a higher power;
I believe in the power that is.
——————————————

a yielding to a god
that is not I
is but obstruction.

hidden gems of lavish thought.

the fallacy: a call to action
for rewarding purpose only.

call to thee, a call to self.

the teaching echo

echoes teachings . . .

teachings echo,
listen closely
to the distance.

⁃ then, the whispers must be godly? -

uttered in truth.

if, only, the heavens
were on earth . . .
Carl Webb II Feb 20
it was beautiful . . .

we simply put forehead to forehead,
                         fingertip to fingertip,
                         touched toe to toe and

we accepted -

we didn’t move,
we didn’t flinch

- and we weren’t afraid
of one another.

                 (it was strange . . .)

we cared not to harm
one another.

just accepted

us, together, as one
became the object of
reality.

resting . . .

breathing . . .

never flinching;
never afraid.

we even shared
our deepest thoughts

as one
we shared our plots,
our stories and
all our characters,

the . . . protagonist
and the other and . . .

                     (it was weird . . .)

we weren’t afraid
of each other

even then,
we wished not
to harm each other.

just accepted

us, together, as one
became the new meaning
of fantasy

we shared our
wildest dreams

and laughed
and danced

and, still, firmly pressed
together we were free

(and still not afraid!)

to fall down
and get up
together . . .

we helped
one another.

we’d cry
over our bruises

together.

we accepted
everything
that made us whole

and, that, was all . . .

and, it was beautiful . . .
Carl Webb II Feb 19
perhaps, one day,
once we cease,
some of us
will become the stars

perhaps,
some of our vibrations
will carry over
into the afterlife
————————————————
a flawed determination
of iridescence

a dimming, purpose:
to accentuate


a life appears to be
worth losing
life appears to be
worth more


inspiring hopes
of replication

aspiring, hope
to just feel known

without a promise

chance
to follow

dimmed in anguish

storied in peace

presenting, over all,
a flawed
determination of luster
—————————————————
perhaps, one day,
we’ll all become
the brightest of stars
and all vibrations
will carry over
into the afterlife
Carl Webb II Feb 16
perhaps, this smooth jazz
that’s playing sweetly in my ears
is from within

perhaps, I think,
I hear the melody
once again

I think
I hear it . . .
————————————
. . . as a rule
and as a flaw,
he used his soul
to guide the way

protected soles
in case of
beckoning calls
to search
throughout the day

and through the night
he fought off enemies
from standing
in the . . .

wait.

and through the night
he didn’t fight
he taught his enemies
to play

and through the mourn
and through the hate
they learned to love
and understand

they gained some empathy . . .
and more than that
they helped him
with his plan . . .

continued on
creating bonds
to break the norm
of common man

he heard the music
more and more . . .
——————————
I hear the melody
once again . . .
Carl Webb II Feb 12
reporting love from underground,
I love you more than life, itself.

I fought the gods for your attention,
talked to Hades, asked for help.

I sold my dignity to Satan;
took some hell along the way,

and, made it back to you
by midnight . . .



I just wish I could have stayed . . .
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