my true love is 30 gram paper
my pens are legion & strange
this oddball idea of writing
on a machine will die out
bless me, it 'twas great good fun
yes? for every scratch o' the pen
gave me back more than I can
"Mystery Cult of Two" by Medusa (in translation)
<this is Modern Greek, transliterated so that I can study, but it is my own original poem>
oi archaíoi pólemoi ypoféroun apó ti moíra mas
poté den eípa kalá, poté den eípa alítheia
O, i agápi mou, poú échei páei i alítheia?
ópos ti mními kai ti dikaiosýni
pou chánetai sta óneira
den oneirevómoun pléon apó ména
gnostó vathiá se sas
móno eseís, epithymóntas kai oi dýo
mazí mas gia álli mia forá
oi archaíoi pólemoi ypoféroun
mia moíra san erastés
to parelthón den tha gínei poté
na eínai arketá gností
mia mystiriódi latreía tou chrónou
makriá, mia latreía mystiríou
dýo, móno dýo
agápi: mia latreía mystiríou
tou eaftoú mou
Poetry as study guide, seems to be working for me.
This poem is sincere, and also helping me re-learn my Greek.
They tell you to eat your wheaties and respect the kings and queens you only see on t.v. or in the bed with teenies. While these pigs devour our flesh their eating. We starve and march to the drumbs their beating. We tried to find meaning through a church preaching freedoms. But While they built warships, we were chasing imaginary demons, out of lands to this day we still think were freeing. Instead of breaking bread to figure out the reasons. We build walls like the rest of the world aint humans. Are we looking through the lens, because i cant seem to find any truemen. This aint a movie, I know what moves me, and it will never be pre-tend. I care not what your creed defines, your needs are mine. And unlees we stand together we'll never be freemen. Believe me now, dont believe me when, theres nothing left to believe in man.
The prison is your misery, unless your adolescents is at the hands of bill and hillary. The only statute we have is a lady burning liberty. The corruptions is tyranny. So, when they try to analyze me its mirroring. Liquidity. The reflections on the waters is not you literally. But your vehicles effects across this plain are rippling consistently. Deliberately conditions are visibly indignity towards our self esteem. We all live behind a screen invisibly, you dont see the Brilliancy we recieved after eve's temptation of the tree. Saturns sycle grazed scicily. So *** was sold openly in the streets. His story secretly on repeat. Shiva, kundalini, the eye opening. Idiocracy. Love whats at your feet. Gia gave you everything you need. One day you will be free. This is all a very complex dream. oxygen needs blood to stream. All Hues are beautiful under the rays the sunlight beams
And as I sleep,
in bed of pedals I dream...
Of dancing to the music of the wind.
Of standing tall like tree with power and grace.
Of being set free with fragrance strong to enhance noses.
Of sinking into my pedal bed
and become a blossoming flower.
A flower that is child of Mother Gia,
who loves all
Inspired by Muna Thank you
— The End —