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 May 2014
SG Holter
You couldn't swing a dead cat
Between me
And the Core of All Existence.

I hide myself from External Affairs
Behind homeground
Impenetration.

All I care to explore is my own
Present outermost psychocosmos.
I could open my mouth and
Expell whole systems; solar and
Other.
In constant consumption with
Every sense employed; I know not
When to stop.

I breathe pure air on spiritual diet,
Slimming down to a complete
Absence of Self. Leaving an
Impression like a Lover of Life on
Something dead; I feel nothing
But alive.

I close my eyes and bask in the
Loaded sensation
Of every gun in the room

Being pointed at my person.

They live by me.
 May 2014
NuurSeraph
I was reflecting on a moment, as I reflect oftenly..True.
So in this vision I looked deeply at the picture of the figure standing there.

There she was, I use this tense because a stranger is a she, a he, a they...not You.
But really it was a picture of the little girl, that once upon a time was me.

Maybe some of you saw it, the little girl...standing in a costume, just as was accustomed thing to do...every...single....day.

She was her Parent's Molded Clay...in which they made their plans with their hands, their work of Art, prospect for blood, they craved to feed from poured out Praise one day.

You see...I was a malleable creation, a desired exploration
To design & mold her, Zoom in to Zero, the next multilateral SuperSoldier.

Every moment of everyday, they tended to their artistry, to my dismay.
Their Scientific Approach was so cold and calculating, so as to miss the spirit in my eyes slowly dissipating.

The tears that wept precisely calibrated for the flow,
To keep the Clay moist for the work they must do.

Twas Painful, albeit, of gutting in the Unnatural Power.
My head be last, lest they loose Pressure from up top the Water Tower.

I'm glad they left my Eyes for last, cause I watched and waited behind the Glazed Over Glass
I saw it All,
the sinister craftwork,
my reason to exist,
in such a wicked Plan
to be unleashed across the land.

The Rage against this mistreatment, the injustice, the lies, the secrets:
Their Plans

I Swore an Oath to the One Power to Be , so Young, I assumed it Was Me
I would use the Power they delicately labored, albeknowenced,
to them,
with
Blade of Truth as my Sabor
I would act in the milliseconds between transfer
from the Furnace to Surgical Chair

And Rage the Rage of a Billion Suns,
Bring Reign,
such a schorching electrictricity,
Fry the Circuitry,
the Programmes, each Implant, **** each Signal before it could reach me, redirect and reflect every laser pointed at me, back at it's Source  

The Panic Spread, backup squads called in quickly to attend
to a Power
they knew Not what
Orders for Kinetic Delivery
in Defence

My self generated OverRide Made immediately operational, I just knew what to do

I Spun so Swift, drilled beneath the Earth,
Close to Oceans
of the South Pacific,
I emerged, shapeshifted
into a Magnificent Dolfin

Swam far away, across the Globe
to find somewhere safe

In the midst of a deep red sunset, I emerged a Young Woman with nothing Other than to complete:
                  
   My OWN Mission
 ~«\~|§|~/»~

With Blade of Truth & Justice Vision
§  
Resurrect Truth, Protect the Mistreated Nature
ω  
Expose Corruption, and dismantle for
Reconstruction
|⊙|
°
Reign a hellfire on the Offenders who refused to Submit
      
V||§||V

© All Rights Reserved
Feb. 24th, 2014
Venusoul7
any Syfy Buffs that would like to collaborate on a more in depth screenplay version of this supernatural concept
please message me
it is by far not even close to presenting detailed ideas I would love to explore on the movie screen l
Let me know
 May 2014
SG Holter
Her still warm
Imprint on the bed
Body and
Wings

Feathers on whole
Pillows

I wake up in Heaven
Alive.
 May 2014
Roberta Day
Today I had ***
For the first time
and it wasn’t like I expected
I’m sure that’s everyone’s first thought
when we’re beaten with the idea of
grandeur before we can even comprehend the act
Pressure in a foreign place
rotating and grinding, balancing on a fleshy beam
The hard part was getting it in
I thought alcohol would help
but it only made sleep take me
Fresh, crusted eyes and the silence
with rain pattering on roof shingles
and the ceiling creaking with every step above
was all the noise in the background
and all I could think was we needed music
then I thought shouldn’t our breaths be the music?
and the squishing sounds of wetness being slapped?
When you’re older it’s easy to separate *** and love
When you’re older, you’re hardened and care less
In every aspect of your life
Yesterday, I thought it would never happen
But today, I had ***
and that’s all it was
Had to share.
 May 2014
Roberta Day
Please, oh please
can you spare a drop
of the liquid flowing through you,
dripping down your sweet ****?

I am quite parched
I’ve been barren for months
Please can I drink in
your billowy lumps?

Pour into my crevasse
Make me bloom with life
Moisturize the cracks I’ve earned
from loneliness and strife

I’m a desolate island
desperate for nature’s touch
but too far from land
for one shower to be enough
Wrote this while inebriated eheh.
 May 2014
Ianuaria
she reached out
for a vivid
dream

came back with nothing
but a silent
scream
 May 2014
NuurSeraph
From the Swirl comes the Structure,
In the Structure feeds the Flow and the Flow maintains the Focus.

So we can deduce, much like the pattern of life, it begins as Freedom, like colorful movement exempt from rule, while the other extreme, the skill obtained of Focus & Form, akin to miraculous mystery, wise sensuality, from royalty born.

Can you see the Procession, in difference yet alike?
Infancy is always Free,
from Wisdom comes Sight,
the Master of Vision,
Magical Majesty,

    ~Immaculate Precision.
    ~A Rainbow in the Light.

Deep unto the dreamy wood, Walk We, one Faire to ‘nother
Swift~ Shift , Slighted plea, what cares of Gnomonic Clemency
~ divide amongst they~ who do not know or see
~ forever possess perverse tales to talk away the mystery
Swift ~ Shift, Acrimonious Possession, Sudden urgency
Cares Not~ Divide amongst Gnomonic Novelty ~

Coming birth of Elementals
entrancing ingenuity foreseen such heavenly conception
Ironic irreverence of Elements pure Majesty
Still in Expectance of blessed Faire’s redemption
They ~ who do not care will never know and ought never see.

This is about Strife.
The way one Group must always find flaw with another Group, finding all the differences to hate, ignoring any similarities to love.
Assyllium Moratorium Serophis et E Pluribis Unum
 May 2014
SG Holter
She's having a bad day
The way only women do.
I pile all our pillows in the
Wall corner of our bed.
Carry her into it,
Cover her with both
Our duvets.
Comfort womb.
 May 2014
SG Holter
Girl, it is summer in just a few months.
Springtime -a newborn that screams.
World will be warmer with wildness in hunt.
Winds wave away winter dreams.

Girl, we could sleep just as normal would be.
Awaken when sun chases moon.
But baby tonight, let's get lost in the night,
Let's get dressed, see the sun's setting soon.

Boy, you will say, not a scene have I seen
That scares me and still owns my eyes
The way this is cut from the textile of dreams,
You were right; I did not realize.


You'll see elk in the moonlight; not sensing us there,
Bats between branches in dance.
All playing near to the river down here,
Like some unwitnessed rural romance.

But more than the Wild, there are mysteries still,
Of nature beyond what we know.
Of trolls and of elves and of creatures that will
Only let nighttime them show.

Let's get lost in the woods, find our animal roots,
I will go there with you if you might. By
When Sun lights her flame, we will not be the same.
Let's get lost in the woods tonight.
 May 2014
SG Holter
Life is too short to waste
On insignificancies,* she says,
Waving carefree toes under socks
On my lap
-One green; one red-
When I call her my
Lantern-Lit
Vessel of
Wisdom.
 May 2014
Michael Amery
Bloodied and bruised lips,
I enjoy the taste of iron passion in your kiss.
Tears filled with too swiftly spoken words and
feelings never to be expressed well up then slip out and over,
leaving salty trails of dried up promises, of joy of pain.
Dark smears of mascara mark your otherwise flawless face.

I can read your need.
Our stories are intertwined and older then the cave paintings depicting hunter slaying prey,
and just as primal.

Sing me no sweet lullabies.
Rather pound me into the moist earth with your crescendo,
your dirge,
a harpy's cry coupled the siren's song.
My lust will answer in kind.
Rising proud and *****, a soldier standing tall, fearless, with yearning gaze searching the worlds between us, welcoming you, the enemy, more friend than foe, into a dance designed to wound,
Cupid's arrow through our heart.

The only peace we will know will be the quiet of the field when the battle is done.
The only victor the carrion crow,
a ****** of beaks to pick over our shredded skin, our false pride, our misconceptions.

It's not the bride who cries on this wedding day.
White virtue walks the aisle splendid with beauty that shines from within, sending my ghosts screaming as they are replaced with a spirit far more profound.

My knees shake as I lower myself to worship you at your alter.
Any more sacrifices and I'll be dead. I am laid bare before you, every layer pealed back, raw meat for the knife.
I await your tender kiss.
 May 2014
SG Holter
Fighter jets in formation
Above Ekeberg Hill
Remind me of years
Spent on airbases
During my time in the
Royal Norwegian Air Force.

I was stationed at NATO's
Northernmost base during 9/11.
Minutes after plane #2,
I was upgraded to
NATO Top Secret
Clearance.
Given live ammo for my P80.
Witnessing the colonel's
Marlboro Light shake in his
Usually steady hand as I
Approached; MSO briefcase
Handcuffed to my wrist.
There were papers inside
I was expected to
Die for.
I was 22.

Not even the police carry
Firearms in this country.
Not even the police are expected
To give up ghost over information.

For a nation of such ******
History, we maintain a mellow
Attitude.
We choose peace over "piece".
Gun-sense over violent nonsense.
Naïve? Maybe.

There are nearly no shootings here.
We've had one lethal act of
Terrorism since WWII.

We can live with that.
Literally.
 May 2014
SG Holter
Do you speak to yourself
With respect?
Thinking back on words
Fit for retraction, do you call
Yourself idiot? "Why didn't
You just shut up? Stupid,
Stupid, stupid!"


Spitting foot flavour
On your own shadow, leaving
Bile, regret and self-loathing on
The walls and floor
Of your headroom.

"You always mess up.
Why will you never learn?"


Forgive yourself. How would
Another feel if spoken to
With such hostility?
Day after day.
Minute after minute.
We talk down to ourselves
Like invisible
Evil twins.

Be nice to yourself, even within
Your innermost of monologues.
Be nice.
Watch your mouth.
Don't talk like that
To my friend.
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