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Zephyr winds bade me follow
To the black coolness of the night
Do bear my souls sum
Call forth the God Apollo
Upon his lyre strum

Pray the voices of nine muses
A lullaby to soothe me
As a willing soul
I open the box of sleep

May the son of Hermes
Lively cloven hoof centaur Pan
Join me in sweet slumber
Birds song on pipes
Of hollowed stem reed

Through shadows of Pluto I pass
As I sail into Neptune's blue green oceans deep
Hear the wails of the lemur's sorrow
Song of poor Orpheus love and plight
Gently wake me on the morrow

This poem is copyrighted and stored in author base. All material subject to Copyright Infringement laws
Section 512(c)(3) of the U.S. Copyright
Act, 17 U.S.C. S512(c)(3),
She was holding on to a man broken
every gesture made, every word spoken
was a desperate cry from a place so deep
that he can only reach it in his sleep

she holds him together so the pieces don’t fly away
keeping her balance as he kneels to pray
sometimes he sees her, sometimes he doesn’t
sometimes he lives in his past, sometimes his present

she implored, she beseeched
she tried action, she tried speech
if you cannot love me, let me know
if you will not love me, let me go

But he holds on, as if holding on for dear life
as if he is drowning and every stroke is in strife
as if she is the only thing keeping him afloat
as if she was every single word he ever wrote

and his eye remains to the shore -
someplace clear but far
it seems within reach yet
more distant than a star

more and more it appears an exercise in futility
finally admitting it is beyond her ability
she drops to her knees, eyes up to the Master
trying to prevent her heart’s impending disaster

the weight is so heavy, so hard to bear
hope only comes in the form of a prayer
with hardship comes ease, promises the Beloved
but try as she might, she cannot rise above it

despairingly close to losing all hope, she implored
her tender hands bleeding from the double-edged sword
would letting go bring relief or a tortuous void?
would her heart remember the previously enjoyed?



~ epilogue:

Then one quiet night upon an angel’s wing
she heard a voice that only an angel can bring
somewhere between a sigh and a scream
somewhere within  a half-awakened dream

She watched him float above the ocean waves
his  feathered wings skimming the waters surface
catching rays of sunlight into pristine prisms
a radiant reflection of blue-green and turquoise

From the edge of clouds,  he finally spoke
and his words became a poem
singing sweetly behind smiling eyes
gliding together over the ocean foam
http://skyblueandblack.com/2015/01/12/between-a-sigh-and-a-scream/
 Jan 2015 ISSAI MASHINGO
Sana
My heart I bequeath you
O’ stillness of my universe
I bequeath you my sanity
Spreading this cloak of being in your dust
I bow to your twinkling stars
To the waxing sun and scented grass
I bow to your springing rivers
To the parched grain and blossoming flowers
I bow to the warmth of my lover
And want of my beloved
I bow to your saccharine figs
And honeyed nectar in chalice filled
I bequeath my mortality to your transiency
Blinded by this light in game of ruse
Into your cohesiveness, I fuse
In blinkers to win the race
Espying a king in glass
Presage of being a slave

Yet when darkness falls
I furl my cloak and solemnly rise
For I bow not then
To your barren fields and waning suns
I bow not to your garish colors,
To the cloying drupe and wilted blossoms
Bracing my feeble transience
With my tenet and trail of faith
I bow to the King of kings;
Whilst I beseech for emanating hope,
In my tigers clasp, my God’s rope
I beseech,
Till the noise becomes music again
And as I gaze in the glass now,
All I espy is a beseeching slave
True, the brightest light casts the darkest shadow but it is in darkest that brightest embers can be found.
"Inside the womb, silence whispers;
Darkness wombs the light
Raging storms give birth to light"

Our fate is storm,
We are the light
We are the raging storm
In search of truth

Did I go back and forth

Wandered through mountains

Bathed in rivers sacred

With the pious

Whichever way the blind pointed

With hope and zest me travelled

Every which way I smelled his scent

But round and round is all I went

Wasted lives to know the one who is not

But the feverish pitch of seeking would cease not

What does it take to fathom the ocean

Even fish or whale is clueless of the ocean

It is only the salt that can be ocean

A salt doll I became

Just a plunge made me the ocean.



So all it needs is a plunge.
Guru...
Dear Depression,
It has been about 6 months of being away from you
I would breathe a sigh of relief
but I am afraid to let down my guard
If I give you an inch you would take ten miles
You are like a lion seeking to devour me
You are like a cobra waiting to strike
They say that misery loves company
You hang around with doubt and despair
You are close chums with Anxiety who I know to well
I have know you since I was a kid
Your connection to me grew stronger in my teens
I had a few good years apart from you here and there
Then all of a sudden you were back with all your bad friends
  and my life fell apart again even worse than before
  You robbed me in regards to my relationships with family and
  friends
  Sending me into isolation
  I have to make it clear I don't want you around
  I have had a taste of happiness and peace without you
  I don't want to give it up
  I will be better without you
  I will be in the company of family and friends and with other
  people who understand
  I will be the one wearing a genuine smile
  I will be the one encouraging others when they have a bad day
  I will be a shoulder to cry on for my friends and family or for any one else who needs a friend
I will be the one who is grateful for each new day
I will be the one who is hopeful that I will part ways with you forever
I am the one who is finally pursuing my hopes and dreams
That is why I need to be away from you and all your friends
Goodbye depression I will not cry, I need to part from you
In favor of an improved life
I know at times I will have bad days but I had worse ones with you
   Sincerely,
    Ann
^   ^   ^
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/----\

One Tree on the Hill

Cracked and  broken
( dead or dyin )

One saint comes to meditate

/:/

Sing a song if you still can

See birds a flyin cross clear skies

If you can hear the maiden sighing
Blissfully

///

The saint sits beneath the Tree

In clarity he hears the cryin

Invokes  all the sacred Names

Callin out in vain



Smoke signals

Intuition

Mothers ' hopes and fathers' fears

Drifting aimlessly it seems

But striving yet to come together



Is it just the bitter End ?

Is it Alien invasion ?

Is it but psychopathic greed ?

Or just our childish ways ?

///

The broken Tree
( dead or dyin )

The saint comes to Meditate

Even if it is too late

The saint comes to meditate

Just to keep the Vision clear

And to set the story down

Full and complete
these are the questions
i ponder on a friday afternoon
after a few mango beers

do slugs get to volunteer to be snails or vice versa?

do you think, tadpoles grieve for their tails?

are the black and white
goldfish, aware of the colour
of their skin?

do polar bears, in captivity,
miss the ice fishing?

do lions get jealous, of how
cushy housecats get it?

why does nobody ever ask,
does my head look to big in this book?

yep..... i know ....deep
i think i might need to change beers
but i like the taste of this one....
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