awas amidst
the bits and bobs of my pseudo-sleep,
check my watch oft habitually,
understand
that the precisive time is not
what I seek,

no,
what I desire is reassurance of
some sort, that time is present,
that it is
a measurable actuality in,

my about,
a breathable actuality
woven into my
Body’s  Constructional
Constitutional Cconsciousness


that time is there, here,
for it is rhe

wondrous of all wonder,
it is a
present of, from,
and,
is love itself,

love is time…
(think on it)

it is all and only
butpossibility,
the future in
slow mo
is both
realizable & visible ,
even some part knowable;
its somes & sums,
as we daily
practice realizing it,
as if
time is a
smuggler of snuggles,
comforting but not
for too long
like
a new lover’s
exploratory
beginning beguiling explanations
reforming our ardor
into
viability

or

a glove
asking us each:
slow s l i d e
your hand inside,
then,
newly commence
waving yours,
airy all about

conducting a new self
into your
precious moment of precarious
existence,
that we dare not waste!

so:
write and right
are no accident,
but purposed
equals,
friends,
brothers and sisters,
one and both
coexisting
at
in
the same time…

messing with perfection,
you critique yourself,
why do it yet again,
a single choice, *******

yet every time them words,
penetrate, they instigate,
and you want to let~vent,
burst busting out in glory

bible student, we both. so
understand that titled reference
instantly, the secondary hid, secreted
a hurting with hallelujah familiarity

I weep. missing the singer,
his poetry delights, paralyzes with
a *******, indescribable, ecstaticly
indebted to him, his chosen words

he chose, I chose,
this decision to accept,
the need to expiate, explain, to better
understand our whys,
therby grasp our wherefores,
to give ourselves up entire,

thereby making, giving and even
t a k i n g,
the very chore so human to accept,
that surrendering,
f o r g i v i n g, one
accomplishes a chance to uncover the godliness within

that sparks
our frail humanity
to blossom to fruition, that our
fragility is the thinnest tissue of
diamond iron strength
encasing and encoding us unique
but yet united by
a single commonality,
that we are holy,
born to be
to be celebrated
and to share our voices
so differing
in an
unceasing
harmony

“Looking back, I’m ashamed of what I was
I’m different now, though not without flaws
Each crest becomes a trough, as we move on
God slowly steers soul towards a new dawn”

I was a dusty carpet always ignoring abuse, it was being piled
never differentiating between a real friend and an opportunist
I always made sure I gave others more then I gave myself,
my heart was always a blood bath and my soul hurt like hell
At the age of thirty six I began my journey with a therapist  
who found the little girl in me and helped her rise again  
Locked inside a suitcase at six, the world to me was closed  
I started living again, this time I became my own best friend
I learned to say no when I meant no and yes when I meant yes  
there were adjustments along the way, with family and friends
but sooner or later they came to realize I had seen a new dawn
and I wasn't going to be used as a runner for their ***** feet
God slowly steered my heart towards a wholesome love of self,  
after freeing my soul I embraced the fire and began living again.

Copyright © Mystic  Rose |2024

an instant coffee poem scribbled
on the back of an iPhone, and mailed
to the motley crew hanging in these
environs

my request, your bequest
<>

never had an article of clothes
that required a hem to be tailored,
but you my daredevil darlings,
bring me now
you &  yours,
a hem of thy choicest choosing

that I may taste your dew,
this and thus
enlivened,
I will love you,
far more than forever,
beyond my overwhelming
incarcerated capacity
to absorb,
but to exist and seize
the dew of your souls,
each an adrenaline ephedrine
shot to our mutualized brain
~
our soul’s temporal abode

the meaning plain!

you too
will forever be
within
the unlimited scope of this script
on the universe of the internet,
far longer than any intimate moment
we could share ,

a sensory
beyond the physicall

I beg you
please!

9:19 am
Thurs Sept. 12
two thousand and twenty four