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  Aug 2017 Styles 12
jude rigor
blind date
with my college
career, i ask them
what they plan on
doing with their
degree and i get
a shudder  and
an exorcism
all in one
breath:::
                 i'm trying my best.
Styles 12 Aug 2017
her voice won't stop dancing
between my days

she brings clarity
like a library to the homeless

on a sweltering August day when
cops are trigger happy and water fountains out of order.

I want to pull behind her eyes
and float her hidden dreams.

feather bound on sovereign wind,
gusted up out of cynical cracks
cities wear like so many scabs.

erase the gang signs carved on every window, bridge, wall,

her clean eyes will tell them
how we're all the same thing
at the core.

Soul is colorless.

No red, no blue about it.

I want to sing inside her covers

Autumn splashes
on
extraordinary
  electric air

deer leaping over cruel distances

click mute all the impossibility of
can't from her busy schedule.

I am driving inside her Pacific ocean eyes and they crash my stillness
with blue bliss mystery.

her voice like a sun flare curling
a dragon's nail across a merciless city.

I am just an ember being dragged beneath her scrape leaping up sparks in extraordinary electric air.
Styles 12 Aug 2017
I am building you back
piece by piece
my granite child

who ran below fire

to feel

a slow
crystallization
of minerals embed you.

I am going deep down
to tame your fire.

I will speak to you calmly now
since nobody else would.

I am circling your rage
water flowing from my hand.

I do not expect you to trust anything.

Your crucified eyes scream nails.

I will catch them with my heart.

I will not run away.

I am here to let your fury put their deeds on trial until you are ready to **** or cry.

I am building you back
piece by piece

after this sentence
we will walk down
the street
free of everyone
who told us who we are.

We will know
on our own,

finally calm.
Styles 12 Aug 2017
Eyes stare on the other side of a mirror looking through him.

Light is breaking through his spine in brilliant shafts, name it electric.

Call it dance, it breaks in, goes up and down his body like an invisible elevator.

Someone is pushing buttons on the other side.

The silence of the void is a letter written without words.

She is there buzzing him.

Warm hands against his face shattering skin.

Nothing describes it.

He tries to pull down magic ink.

Nothing sounds right.

Maybe he has forgotten how to write from the viewpoint of angels.

He won't stop trying as her invisible sun continues to bless him.

Light continues to drown him.
Eyes stare on, almost visible.
Styles 12 Aug 2017
Talk of night.

Speak in starlight
listen closer,

while the moon keeps
changing faces
dancing around
the earth.

Higher than eagles.

Waiting for the sun
to tommy gun it all.

Bullets of scattering
slicing away words
branching down
livid leader of flames

Toast me
golden brown.

Talk of Sky.

Cursive feathers
white ink performing introspection.

Ear on fire
eating Psalms
at night and for breakfast.

Tongue of clarity
water so clean
I can't stop crying.

Sparrows flying across white ink
wing bars trap me to the promise
of her freedom,

eagles soaring  above them
calling them higher.
Styles 12 Aug 2017
Job is back *****
I saw him on stage
singing like a wild man,

destruction's wings

flew out of his
broken home throat
like a village of spears
impaling faith,

stop to listen
wilderness has a voice
deeper than moonlight reach

strength has an outlet now
listen, listen, stop it all and
******* listen to it shatter
devil cage.

Job is back *******
and his army of gypsies
have gone black blood
warrior hanging upside down

on a skyscraper about to rise!!

one hand
gripping the Sword of Truth
eyes gone clear from talking with God.

I heard him wail,
back up against the wall
ready to thrown down
a hidden suprise.

Everyone who saw him
leap up
got out of his way.

Job is back
His ****** hand
holding the devil's head.

I saw him cross the street
His spears taken out,
Faith was all he could see.
Styles 12 Aug 2017
If
If every word
from all the stars
fell down all at once
it still would not be enough
to show you
how I feel.

If all the words
that ever moved us
began to speak
from four directions
they still would not capture
what it is I need to say.

If all the gold from heaven's domain began to melt in my eyes when you said what you said I would not have the ability to show you what I mean.

If all the yellow grass is hungry to stay green and all the captive elephants break their cruel and inhumane chains I still could not tell you how freedom sings.

If the cricket chorus lays me down to sleep and the heart is opening again for God with a light so bright
all my secrets sneak away from me,

then maybe you would know this is what I mean when I tell you that I love you.
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