Even in the darkness we rise at steady pace (loop)


&I know her secret
Written on her petals
She shines the brightest
By Her Self

&Drops of water
On Her surface
In the Stillness,  
Holding Light


Circling like a Sunclock in slow-motion
Following the Light x2

-Hayleo Liz Songs

I'm sorry.
I'm sorry for the stupid things
That I've done.
I'm sorry that I haven't always
Been there for everyone.
I never said all the things
I really wanted to say.
I wish that I could be a
Hero to all the friends
That I've made.
I'm sorry that I've laid
All these regrets on your head.
They've been clouding up your
Vision, hanging above your bed.
I don't think I've been so
Kind to all the people that
I've met.
I hope they can forgive me
For any cruel things I might
Have said.
I'm sorry I haven't told you
How much you mean to me.
I think about you always
I hope you think fondly of me.
I'm sorry that I hurt you
I want to take away that pain.
Maybe I've been too guarded or
Seeking too much personal gain?
I know that I'm not perfect
But I'm sorry anyway.
I love you so much -
There's so much
I still need To say.

-Hayleo Liz

Mary Mary
quite contrary
Once the girl that never cried
You were Mary Beaton
And pretty Mary Seaton
And simple Mary Hamilton they all saw die.

Mary Mary
so you cry
To see the flames take breast and thigh
But heart takes hold for a thousand souls
Who hear their blasphemy no more.

Mary Mary
take his hands
And put them on your swollen waist
Make him love you
Make him touch you
Feel the phantom babe within.

Mary Mary
haunted face
The chapel so bereft of grace
curse Our Lady for her place
as she quickens see the kick
and your barren womb below.

Mary Mary
echoes call
the ghost of hopes that haunt the hall
Your darkened chamber lonely cast
reluctant lord to break the fast
two bodies strangers
one unchaste.

Mary Mary
sickened lie
the blood between your legs belies
the death that grows within your womb
around you languished hopes are strewn.

Mary Mary
So you die
with painful breath and blinded eye
The ****** takes your place at hand
with fecund fertile ******* she stands
to suckle the nation you could not nurse
for surely, you bore your mother's curse.

She danced with others,
with no shame, only laughter,
Elizabeth was her name,
and she had eyes of flame.

Her golden head was beyond the beauty of the Sun,
yet her skin was paler than the Moon,
and she signed the perfect tune.

She lived alone, deep amidst the trees,
her friends were the animals, especially the bees.

Nothing could compare her beauty because she wasn't a human,
yet an angel who fell from the sky,
a gift to all beings that walk the Earth and those who sing her lullaby.

Veiled from the world the Queen did keep
A '*******' girl who cost her sleep
Though tethered down and kept from sight
Still she shone forth as purest light

A brazen heart (to match her hair)
Beat in the breast of 'maiden fair'
She fuelled her lusts for life with love
Of country, and of God above

She sought no spouse to guide, for she
Was wise enough for her country
As fire and ferver burned within
Ne'er a fool charmed his way in

Her sister, on her ravaged throne
Felt only fire for her betrothed
Yet failed to birth a princely son
And ruled and died in fear, undone

And thus, Bess ruled as Princes do
Absolute, and mightily too
And whether truth, or rumour stark
Purity did become her mark

For she who held her own did learn
By passion, one could easily burn
And thus she led, her heart beholden
To England; and their reign was golden

My hands are there
just like an instrument
in need,
to feed
to embrace
to **** out your space
And so do people
as they like
to disguise themselves
unlikely greedy
to feed the world
with love of none
to scare the others
who are finding them
dumb

And what a frightenance
to seek a skeleton
like wind blows
imence
in a greater atmosphere
of the 8th sky over divine.
Unlost.

Halle lujah , who will praise
who will try to seek their own
way.

As sparrows eat the seed
and narrows finding their ****

The babys still can grow
the world needs more to show
and when you are there
you hope and find later  what was worth
was an ego of  longings
to enter the harder ship
were humans are contaminous
into sensitive.
fragical,
Just gaze, what is there
and the beauty appears
rehealing the one and beauty
of Gods,
were humans still can
that little
feel.
and powers reheal
your hands ,
and you Breath.

The art of losing isn’t hard to master;
so many things seem filled with the intent
to be lost that their loss is no disaster.

Lose something every day. Accept the fluster
of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant
to travel. None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look! my last, or
next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

—Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture
I love) I shan’t have lied.  It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

From The Complete Poems 1927-1979 by Elizabeth Bishop, published by Farrar, Straus & Giroux, Inc. Copyright © 1979, 1983 by Alice Helen Methfessel.