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 Apr 2013 Veronika
Michael Allen
Spring creeks born from infinite knowledge
gaining speed
riding cloaked horses that show
Peter in the stained glass surface

young creek
carry
salvation price televangelists can't match
melt bullet proof screens between altar and flock
wash the old mans feet

Summer river border
bring
fresh water to stagnant minds
earthly limits can yield no nutrition
salt smooths David pebbles to fly straight

Journeys from the Abaddon threshold
(leave the salt behind)
riding
clouds like the cloaked horses to stained glass Peter
past our own existence watching self hematophagy
all things are one

Fall crosses river styx  
until we are wise enough to take the coins from our eyes
see
his lonely gold coin fall from the mast
economists miss the beauty in a negative *****

Cold winter brooks
forget their age
babes no longer baptized in ***** whale heads
no longer giving squeeze to oil that fights the freezing point of time
no longer running from the mouth that carries you west
are we anchored to god or do billions of monkey ropes join to give him life
There is, this blue, this, something that grows inside of me, something that coils through me, when the distractions are gone, or forgotten, a forgotten, feeling, rising up from within me, and within me, lifting a hope, a hope from a dream, a dream, suddenly realized, and realized, i was always there, just there, always here, just here, waiting for me, waiting for me to sync to it, to a place, a place, where the light is thicker, in an encompassing blue haze, a blue haze of a comfort, a comfort i will not explain, but will say, that this, this, wholeness, this wholeness exists, i felt it, sitting in a chair, with a view, that i have never viewed, and beside me, things, things i have never seen, and nobody, nobody was there, but me.

It was peace, all that ever was, or shall be, it was me, projecting on the screen, what was needed, to redeem, the blue light for sight, into others dreams, as i master me, tethered by a single string of tranquility, i could, and always can see, the light beyond my thinking, and i think, everything, is where it needs to be, for the time being, a non entity to my being happy, embracing my duality, the happiness, as well the tragedy, of the sadness that lurks, upon the birth, of reprisal, to take me higher, than i ever knew to desire til now, as now, is all there ever was.
 Apr 2013 Veronika
Cali
my city
 Apr 2013 Veronika
Cali
in a city that breeds hooligans
ingrates and indecencies,
where the architecture of a lost era
crumbles into brothels and madhouses,
where shootings peak
with the heat of summer,
where new windows are boarded up daily
and we chop down trees like fanatics,
in the city I call home,
in the city I love,
destroyed by its ignorance,
I am condemned to silent pleas
and empty stares.
 Apr 2013 Veronika
Dalton Burnett
I contempate, is this my fate?
Nothing comes to mind.
I've lost the light, fallen down,
No hope here I'll find.
No strength remains, in my heart,
There's nothing I can do.
For in the dark, I have lost,
My will to sail this storm through.

They spit on me, with their apathy,
Why can't they understand?
I'm all alone, far from home,
Lonesome broken man.
Inside of me, only misery,
I'm done it's too late.
I'm letting go, breaking off,
Full of fear and hate.

So take your world, take it all,
It is lost to me.
In the cold, my soul unfolds,
This you'll never see.
Broken thoughs, haunt my mind,
There will be no rest,
Is this the end?, surely not,
Mors principium est.
Mors principium est- latin for "death is only the beginning"
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