"Although

many of us consider black to be a color, black is actually
defined as the absence of color, hence, Darkness is a place which is the
absence of the FATHER's Light." - Peter R Farley - Where Were You
Before The Tree Of Life - The True History of The Darkness and The Light



It is close to being headless, to be without a father

and how and where do we investigate who or what the responsible force
is?...

It is simply a recurring method, divide and rule

Here in the matrix you have black, brown, white and yellow races

in some places not made famous you have orange and red and blue races

So what is colour? The texture of light perhaps

So then, what is black?



Nothing, void. So then how does one refer to a whole race as nothing?

it's really simple, where there is nothing there has to be something

so the something is revered and valued as significant

and what about the nothing? Well the nothing will be made to serve the
something
But was is not from the void that worlds were created? From thought, now
thought an important factor for the nothing would be denigrated to such
an extent as to not be able to think
so from this comes an inferior race and a supercilious race
Not to blame the supercilious race for it too was manipulated into
having high esteem -
so where are the parents?

You find a black and a white wrestling unconcious of the fact that they
could consciously be cousins
In simple terms, if we are all Light then we stem from the same tree
however with polarization or dualty find we lower degree
and this state imprisons us to hate one another for one reason or the
other

And it is within memory that black and white races have been fighting
for millenia
With this, both races would boast a pride and a willingness to defend
one's culture at all costs
But then as children when do we grow and gather the gods in one room to
hear their views and differences?
When will we rise above demographics to save the human race?
and beyond other races being exploited throughout the galaxies
What would we learn if these members of Councils and Houses were
gathered in one room?
Would we learn that this universe is not perfect?
But then what is perfection?
Hyperthetically, an idea of supremacy and completeness which sets the
standards that all things and people should conform to... That is, as
far as the powers  define

It is a responsibility to search within our hearts for what is true and eternal
It is a choice we make to be continually affected by the sicknesses of society
It is a voluntary action to uplift the houses that govern however sincere and well-meaning they may appear
however promises are never kept and human beings taken for granted
It is a soul's obligation to yearn for its liberty such that we too, as Ascended Masters, can graduate and become Renaissance Man.

figurine of simplistic beauty's
she lay in the quiet afternoon shade
delicate sculpture of woman's beauty's
fine white lace
and the scent of roses
she lingers on all the senses
like smoky warm rooms of forever sunshine
like an endless caress of a tender lover
she stirs and opens me up to daylight
with just the lightest touch of willing smile
so deep runs the cool spring waters of her heart
and with silken words
cups my heart in her hands
kissing lightly away these troubles that
now are as forgotten as my name
under this earthy goddesses touch
she is the empire of summer
she is the heart of every mans desire
i stand in defense
of this true soft heart
bound by the gentlest kiss upon my cheek
and the sweet thanks of this
figurine of simple beauty's

Poetry with simple rhyme scheme
isn't really poetry at all.
It takes all the artistry of language,
and crushes their greatness
into something rather small.

It belittles the sharp peaks of your smile,
that peek through porcelain veils.
It takes the beauty of your eyes,
and brings them down to scale.

The rhyming ruins all seriousness,
true poets take in pride,
it leaves their work in ridicule,
though their emotions are implied.

It vastly understates
the warmth in your cheeks,
and incredibly discounts
the lions of your dreams,
making them seem weak.

That is why I will never write a poem
describing the perfection of you
in a silly little rhyme scheme;
that is what I shall not do.

I will, however, jest
at what rhyming cannot describe,
although it tries to do its best,
it falls by the wayside,

For limericks cannot contain
my pretentious heart and soul,
and cannot compare
to the magnificence you hold.

Because if I could contain your spirit,
in matters of stanzas and rhyme
my talents would be wasted,
this atrocity a crime,

But you make my writing worthwhile,
and give me ideas to muse,
instead of the dull and dread,
the pretender's butter and bread,
with none of my talents to use.

You've become the vine
that creeps
up
the side
of my brick encased dwelling,
breaching every
crack
and
imperfection
you've stumbled across,
managed to conceal them,
and make them presentable.

You've overtaken an entire wall;
teal
and lavender
petals,
like crayon shavings,
scattered
against their dark background,
bringing with them
the color
my house
so desperately needed.

Now,
when friends and onlookers
pass by,
they see this great green and brick
marvel,
covered in leaves,
and petals,
and vines
that stretch from every awning,
down to the cement blocks
of the basement.
We have all the neighbors
whispering about
how your greens
compliment my reds
and how bright your flowers
bloom,
even on the grayest
of mornings,
so that everyone
is in envy
of what they see.

Tired of keeping everything
inside of me
this is annoying
and just wrong
in so many ways.

I would like to tell you
but i dont think i will be able to
because you are so perfect
in your own world
that i fear my intrusion
of problems and worries
will destroy your wonders
hence, i refuse to tell you
not about anything else either
just, the fact
that your wonderful world
will be in broken pieces
should i share my worries and problems

Its too much to keep inside though
and people tell me to get help from you
and i try
I honestly try
but.
I cannot bring myself to tell you about it
no matter the amount of persuasion
done by the girl i have a lot of crush on
it wont bring me to a conclusion
of sharing my distant and evil plans
with you and your wonderful world
that i occasionally peek into
to try to replicate

but, as previously said
I am unable to do it
because of my ineptness
of doing anything