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Traveler Dec 2020
To imagine the imagination
Is to be drawn into the fire
For those
Creative experience’s
Are hard wired

Enchanted escalade
Up the mountain of archetypes
There your gift of expression widens
In a poetic array of wonder
Together WE
Rain down on the weary world
And a spark of light so blindingly bright
Brings sight to the busy ants

The hole dug today
Was just for tonight
Dear rabbits it’s time to dig another one!
Traveler Tim

“Run, rabbit run
Dig that hole, forget the sun
And when at last the work is done
Don’t sit down, it’s time to dig another one
For long you live and high you fly
But only if you ride the tide
And balanced on the biggest wave
You race towards an early grave…”
— Pink Floyd, “Breathe”
Michael R Burch Apr 2020
Our English Rose
by Michael R. Burch

for Christine Ena Burch

The rose is—
the ornament of the earth,
the glory of nature,
the archetype of the flowers,
the blush of the meadows,
a lightning flash of beauty.

NOTE: This is my translation of a Sappho epigram. It was originally titled "Sappho's Rose" before I chose to dedicate it to my mother, Christine Ena Burch, who was born and raised in England. Keywords/Tags: Rose, ornament, glory, nature, archetype, flowers, blush, meadows, flash, beauty, lightning
MisfitOfSociety Feb 2020
Owning up to the fact that I cast a shadow.
One that seems to have no end.
Hiding just behind me.
Mechanisms to keep it out of view.
Catch it in the act before it gets past you.

Turn your back to your devil,
And you will see the shadow that it casts.
The reach of its shadow,
Grows larger the longer you hide,
Until all you can see is darkness.
Our devil figure,
Reflects in another.
The Archenemy,
Is buried inside me.

We are our own devil,
And make everyone else our devil.

I cast my devil onto you,
And now you are my devil too.

Your archenemy,
Don’t push that onto me.

Your misery,
Don’t make it mine too.

Your elegy,
See that the devil is you.

Own up to the dark.
Amend yourself.
Catch your devil out in the open,
Trying to make an enemy out of someone.
Blameless, you believe,
You hide the shadow beneath your feet.
Unveil the creature,
Walk through it,
Until it is not your devil anymore.
Ken Pepiton Apr 2019
I came to witness the future
Archon, archetype
an emanation of opposites.
"not every spirit is in

try 'em. Is God? Ax ye 'em dat.

Is God, ified, a re
warder of the unwarded,
or the warded?

expiration, due date duty, now,
ad hoc an'all, do you remember
who you intended
to become?

Do you remember who we emu
late, as our flames lick
next and next and next in

axiomatic sparks stored in that
mother lode of mitochondriac
ical me-we-canicle chronicle time

reason. Ax dem ex-spirit-eers,
what is a spirtual bypass?

It's a heart way to avoid
growing old and

witchist, I y'know, 'r j?

alla words's once said, aloud, right?
alla words writ, once was heard, right.
goodt'go. Hoorah.

the code. Who? RA! powerless sans
knowing that.
Yahoo, same set of mis con ceived
battle songs
which ended wars never fought.

the preacher claimed to have known
a poor wise man, who by his
wisdom saved a city, yet
not one of us knew,
the preacher said,
that poor wise man's name.

Ja', tha's who rah, ya'll laugh later.

this is visitation day at the comedian
rehabituational s'cool.

D'jew know why you listen to non sense,
from motley clad lads an'lassies?

Culture. Kultur. Gut biome axioms
juicin' carbs 'n' fiber. Fectin'

laughter trigger,
good meds. Good medicine, as General
Custer or Emory or somebody
said of blankets. In 1763. Oh,
You know, AI knows you know and now

we watch your eyes. Grin. All done, jest

let me with
draw the cathe.... there. All better.

Wisdom will seep through. Y'live.
Practicing precision lie belief extraction tools
Keiya Tasire Jan 2019
I stand with roots deep into my mother
With branches out stretching towards my father
And Light from the rising sun reflecting within my eyes.

Machi curing, Machi healing,
I sing your song. I feel your love.
Mi Pachamama
So full of love
Your flow of life, ever flowing
Your river of sound, ever singing
Your stream of light, forever shinning.
How can I ever cry when I am within your arms?

Arising with the warming sun
Flowing through the air on the breath of her winds
So softly the clouds release her love
As they are caressed by the tops of her mountains.

Her waters of love flowing…
Trickling down onto the forest
Gathering into the brooklets,
Streams, riverlets, and rivers
Satisfying the thirst of all her creations.

The sound of pan flutes filling my ears
The dance of chi coursing through
Even this body, this gift, this flesh.
Singing her lullaby
Embracing & soothing this tired soul.
Softly the winds bring the colors
Of her song into my beating heart.

Machi soothing
Machi healing. Machi Curing
Machi, singing me well with Her love
Mi Pacha Mama , so full of love
Your flow of life, ever flowing
Your river of sound, ever singing
Your stream of light, forever shinning.
How can I ever cry when I am within your arms?

Healing, Soothing, Curing, Love
I sing your song. I sing your love
Mi Pacha Mama…
We are each born and sustained by elements of the earth. We are born from the earth that gathered within our mother's wombs and sustained by the plants, airs, water, minerals, and the warm life giving rays of the sun. One day we will give our body back to the earth as our spirits soar towards the heavens where our Father in Heaven and Mother Earth reside.
PS Apr 2018
You called it our baby
And I sung it into life
The first word in its ear
The song of all our strife.

I am the ****** queen
No man to make me rule
Your underestimated dream girl
Your perfect ingenue.

You called the sounds
The good sounds
And from the rock came death
And all the sad destruction
And all our baited breath
And all the holy discord
And every frightened dream
And bare breasted, I move on
Like water in the stream.

You called me your baby
And swan-songed ever sweet
I went along with every gamble
Til you tasted defeat.

I am the queen of snakes
The Pythia, obscured
The maiden, mother, mistress, crone
The one that’s never heard.

You called my body
A celestial body
And from the sky came rain
And in the eclipsing silence
You never heard my pain
And all the holy hatred
And all the washed up dreams
And now, I alone move on,
Like water in the stream.

Sweet Pythia, I’m burning
And I must find the way
The lonely heart has never learned
How to make him stay.

But he is not contention
He is only choice
The songs I sang for many men
Only make him love my voice.

And you call these sounds
The good sounds
When the good sounds please you best
The sounds when they adore you
Not the aggressive ‘I digress’
And all the holy Heras
And all the built in rust
And I, without armies win battles
And you without care, **** trust.

I am the mistress, maiden, crone
All dolly-eyed and blue
Your manic little angel
Your perfect ingenue.

I am the maiden, mother, crone
And now apart from you
Because no one is anything
And nothing you heard is true.
Make of this what you will.
AD Mullin Sep 2014
You are a leader ship

how I know this?

cause I'm a leader ship too

I can see the sinuous fibre of your very being

take a look

I bet you can see it too

we are borne of the earth and the stars

borne in the wind

there are four cardinal directions, N E S W, do not forget about the intermediary

be an intermediary ~ who wants to be a cardinal?

we need our leader ships following their own true north

2D - 3D -- 4D --- 5D ---------------------------- >

following the wormholes ... the aether

following certain signs and symbols

trust in divine feminine ... .. . .. ... masculine divine in trust
trust in masculine divine ... .. . .. ... divine feminine in trust

" 'It's all this!' He wrapped his finger in his fist; the car hugged the line straight and true." ~ Kerouac

Ship builders choose their timber mindfully
Be mindful with your archetypes, Noah!
Fleshed out 25 September 2014 in High River
Finished and published in Whitehorse ... but always in process ... stories are kinematic
kenny Jul 2014
She's the girl with the Bambi Eyes
Hidden behind a pair
of heart-shaped sunglasses
The ones I bought her

I like to roll her name
off the tip of my tongue
from the pit
of the fire
of my *****

Great artists steal
She took my heart
and fueled it with temptation
and had me
fullfill her wish lists

with kisses of wishful thinking
if I thought I was going
to get more than pics

Something beautiful
in the back of my mind for once
'cause all I see dark
things sometimes

It'd be nice to shed some light
on the situation
like I'm worthy of enlightenment
we are all one narrative
choose your own anima archetype

my heart like a harp
and makes life seem

The more she stares me down
on her mind

— The End —