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 Oct 2014
Onoma
O to dawn on oneself...
freed of particulars...
bears infinite repeating.
Standing in place...as
change moves...people,
places, things--also standing
in place.
Caught tellingly by a light's
need-to-know basis...there...
THERE...just so...dear
Rembrandt.
I do not presume, nor should
you...the mind's a mere
peephole of a ghost who's
bound to the next.
...We will be gracefully bested...
we're all unknowingly in love
at first sight...it's a matter of
Lighting.
O to dawn on oneself...
freed of particulars...
bears infinite repeating.
 Oct 2014
Onoma
The beginning of any beginning...
the end of any end...
come from the same Meditation.
They are just two thoughts
insisting the nullification
of the other.
 Oct 2014
Onoma
We will be lulled
out of this shell when
the in-breath/out-breath
Unite.
We will take the Aum
of this shell with
Us.
The holiness of
touchy-smiles...
oceans of them...
will come away gently.
 Oct 2014
Onoma
How many perspectives
have you
married...
just to divorce?
Realizing...clouds do not
yoke the
sky.
 Oct 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 Faerie to ‘nother
Swift~ Shift
Slighted plea
what cares of Noumenic Clemency
divide amongst they~
who do not know or care to see
forever to possess perverse tales
to talk away the mystery.
Swift ~ Shift
acrimonious possession
Sudden urgency
Cares Not~
Divide amongst Noumenic Novelty.

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


This is about Strife.
The way one Group tends always to find flaw with another Group, finding all the differences to hate, ignoring any similarities to love.
A repost from earlier this year. I had a hard time trying to find a connection with myself and others then... Now, I feel good and wanted to share this again
 Oct 2014
Onoma
The forgotten bedrock gleams...surrendering
crowns deep in majesty.
As breath comes and goes freely...what of
your fashioned cage?
Your multiplying extremities by mind's might
to touch the untouchable...allows religiosity of
fragmentation.
******* recalls of salvation...coasting still lifes
who blackened an etheric sea.
Seven Days in, and Seven Days out...clockwise/
counterclockwise, a Black and White Hole.
God of thy God in doses...whose meager One
be death at Once.
In the subtlety of trillionth aspect a clearing
may resolve as it were...what's point blank stands
as you Are.
Angels don't cry for me
Shadow light sprinkle lightly on my head don't you see. .

Sparkles lightening in the sky
Dying grey day envelopes the way
Where hearts surges to follow the silence of art
with wind beneath your wings
I beg you not to cry ...

Having taken the journey
from dark to light
became the beginning of the end
discovering my own source
hence the reason to look within ...

Soft wind prayers surrounding the hearts
That fluffs like the peaks
Of the valley alms that leeks
Where random fathoms live so well
High on the hills that ring their bell
In a gentle sweet sound
Finally To be found. ....

Angels Don't Cry for me....*

Debbie Brooks 2014
Her monstrous tongue
spits fire

before her ire
the demon cowers

his limbs sloth
before her fiery wrath

by her annihilating eyes
no more can he rise.

Returns lull

*when she wears his skull!
 Oct 2014
SøułSurvivør
flames
lick the horizon
consuming all the stars
the moon is
burned in
effigy
no more venus
no more
mars

ash falls down
like snowflakes
cinders fall
like hail
comets
stream the
atmosphere
with hell
fast on
their
tail

crimson
light comes
from the east
but all sight
is gone
yes
the
sky
is

RED

and it
isn't even

DAWN


soulsurvivor
catherine jarvis
(C) october 18, 2014
red sky at morning
sailors take warning
 Oct 2014
spysgrandson
as dusk rolled into night,
we watched a gray storm pour off the mesas
you spoke of life, death and what lies in between  
I smelled the rain and watched the lightning dance off
every rock, revealing some sacred secret alchemy in their stony souls  
a molten mix from ancient seas which yet today  
makes a bargain with light brighter than our simple, dying sun  
when your words faded into a sleepy slur, I walked
through the torrents of rain, not shivering
from the dreary drenched burden of the flesh
nor from the earthly winds, but from the vision
of my paw prints disappearing
before they were even made
(Inspired by a fierce lightning storm I had the privilege of seeing/feeling Saturday, July 19th, 2014, in the great American southwest--the only thing I have written in weeks)
 Oct 2014
Ghazal
Oh Winter, I welcome you,
Your nippy air, your kindling hues,
And the tint they cast on my moods,
Oh Winter, if only you knew,

The simple pleasures your arrival bears-
The precious sleep that only your lullaby brings,
The sudden love for rich food you excite,
And so many other little 'winter things'-

Things like colourful gloves and socks,
And poor unsheltered, chilled pink nose tip,
And age-old pseudo-smoking out cold breath,
And cherry/strawberry/cocoa balms to coat the lips,

Doodling a beloved's name on a frosted window,
And tugging blanket under toes in bed, snugly,
The evening nap feeling more easing than ever,
Followed by heavenly gulps of warm milky coffee.

Oh Winter, despite, as the time of
Separation and Forlornness being ill-famed,
Each time you visit, you touch my senses
And leave them pleasantly tingling and inflamed.

For summer may be bright, sunny and sky-blue,
But you can be an enticing dark, a passionate maroon,
You mischievous cupid hiding under the garb of cosiness,
Refilling hearts with yearnings anew.

Welcome, dear Season of Romance,
Time to commence the routine all over again,
Of you- enthusing me with deep cold-warm sentiments,
And me- writing poems celebrating this eternal game.
 Oct 2014
Kayla Hollatz
If the sun had hands, he’d reach out
to touch the curve of the moon’s spine, tracing
his fingers along each crater as she lit up
for him like a paper lantern
in the sky. His flamed limbs enveloping
her, his Luna. The arch of her back
against the backdrop of night, her fullness
intoxicating. After all this time, still burning for her.

When the sun was given hands, he cursed them
as he watched the moon crumble
into ash in the blaze. His hands were Rome
and he couldn’t stop the collapse, the ruins of her
scattered across his cupped palms. He prayed
to Moirai for revival, but all three gods
were silent. Choking back flames of fury, he tossed
his beloved into the black expanse, each flake still lit
with a passion to rebel the stars
that continue to burn with foolish hope.
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