Peering down from a terrestial heap,
contemplating the debate at the seams,
exposing dim lights and the ones asleep.

I sat awake, in solitude, lost like a sheep.
Per(re?)ceiving all the secrets in ones dreams;
beneath the veil, and the ones that we keep.

What the bars in ones mind are made of are cheap:
confining and containing what one can gleam
from the empty gaps and the mental leaps.

I hope those objects and night-lights help you sleep;
Plato's shadowy projections move with moonbeams,
the brimful moon ebbing causes the shadows to creep.

The farside is bare, in twilight;
the mind becomes a maverick:
turning fireflies to winking sprights.

Can you regard all that I see
when you dream with eyes-closed?
And In your dream do people speak in poem or prose?

Are you transmitting dimensions of three
or are you given your dreams?

Do you wonder who contains those moments
and where they are received?

If heaven is dreaming nigh
I wonder what we would be

If God sent a message
what might be the presage;
And what might be the conveyance?

When you're dreaming Angels touch the ground,
revealing all that is bound.
~dancing with the beyond~
And (angels) evaporate in the dawn, or atleast seeming..

Let your eyes unlock~
Quick! The Gates are sealing
Run to recapture all that they've been stealing:
From all those who wish to lower your cieling.

---

A gypsy is whistling who's been up all night.
The dreams of many slip into hidden spaces:
Closets and under the bed; spirits dissipate.

As morning's light eminates
What do you see?

Today of all days I am dividing my tears into sections,

With each moment, with each tear drop and snuffle I makes

The paper tissues will always thread,  

crumbling signs some mishaps in life

surely, cannot be mended;



Yesterday was your birthday,  

Today it's my revelation, of life, (my life)

It seems lately, that I have taken a new route,

This road definitely is not paved with gold.



God truly bless heroes; he never fails me yet!

But, for sure I have encountered some obstacles,

Empathy, or just plain stupidity,  

I am an empath, I never thought I was this kind of person

As we grow older, it's so true that we see life in a different setting

the lows, the in-between and the high moments.

My so intensity, emotions, as they rise,  

and as they drop to low frustrations tolerance, I see red

Today, I need my ginger shots: who cares if it is unhealthy?



Today of all days I am dividing my tears into sections,

With each moment, with each tear drop and snuffle I makes

The paper tissues will always thread, crumbling signs of

some mishaps in life that surely cannot be mended.

Does anybody care about the upcoming presidential election this year?

Already in us
The lifespan
Diminished
Dominion
Of domino theorists
Unfinished
With business abroad
And the world market
Over
Still pumping
And dumping
Their waste
Down our throat holes
And goes into veins
A cocktail
Of their chokeholds
And cold
As the pulse grows
More soullessly
Blood flows
The poisoned
Polluted
Precluded
Provision
Nutrition
Omission
Produces
Submission
And we are but lab rats
Experiments
Testing
Their chemical
Compounds
Of boundless
Ingesting

Saw an old man down by the riverside, lookin' 'bout half past dead/

Gave him two dollars and a penny, for to get a bottle just to cool his head/

Turned around to hand it back to me,  and I looked at him like he was mad/

Swept his gaze up to my eyes, and he gave a single shake of his head, /

Said "I've been here for a long while, and I'll stay until I'm good and dead,"/

"It's been a many year since I've sat here, and I'll stay 'til my kingdom come, /

I didn't know just what to say to that, so I asked, "Hey, mister, where you from?"/

He took a minute,  thinking 'bout everything,  and I thought he was dead/

Gave the biggest smile I have never seen,  and he turned to me,  and he said:/

"I come from over yonder, where the mountain starts, and the river ends"/

"The first thing I saw was the water; it'll be the last thing I see again, "/

"Yeah,  I came from the water, and if you see a friend of mine, "/

"Tell him he's still got a brother,  who won't let him get left behind..."/

the far edge of your love
rushes into me
like small increments of sugar
stirred into my coffee cup

it is the edge of things
i most desire

golden and violet clouds
settling just above the sea at sunset

the dive into the deep
green sea
and then the slow rise to sun

the far edge of your love rushes to me
like smoldering embers
waiting to be the fire once more

it is the edge of you i most desire
like the end of a ridge looking down
into the clouds below

the far edge of your love
rushes into me
and it is the edge of your love i desire
the perfume of pale blue flowers
the elusive summer captured in your smile
and l'appel du vide

Thus shall ye think of all this fleeting world:
A star at dawn, a bubble in a stream,
A flash of lightning in a summer cloud,
A flickering lamp, a phantom, and a dream.

-Diamond Sutra, ca. fourth century CE