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Nissim Apr 2020
Ever since I was a child I've listened to the whispers,
Those whispers reverberating within me.
And I've submitted to those whispers during timeless moments of
my life.
And I became a citizen of the Eternal Realm.

And during my forays in the Eternal Kingdom,
I saw a new age soon to dawn upon humanity.
It is the age prophesied so long ago by all religions.
It is the Age Of Aquarius.
It is the Age of Messiah.
It is the the Second Coming for those who believe there was a first.
It is the age I call the Third.

And I saw Jerusalem,
The shining city of Zion atop a hill.
But in the Eternal Kingdom it is not a city of brick and mortar,
It is a city of the spirit's yearning and of effervescent light.
And the whispers lingered within me.
And they proclaimed, with the final trumpeting of a ram's horn,
The coming Third Age,
When all of the Earth will become the city of Zion,
A Jerusalem spread from pole to pole,
And around the great circles of our world.

But before the Third Age can dawn,
Jerusalem, that shining city of Zion atop a hill,
must be gifted to the world,
So that no one nation shall exercise dominion over it,
Only humanity's shared Soul.

Before the messianic age dawns the third temple must be rebuilt,
But all of Jerusalem is that third temple,
And the rebuilding is its gifting to the world.
In the Eternal Kingdom it is not a temple of brick and mortar,
That is just its shadow on the cave's wall.
And once that rebuild comes to pass,
Then the Third Age will explode in all directions,
From out of Jerusalem, ground zero,
And it will ripple across the lands and the waters,
And it will reach every kingdom and every nation.
It will become sharded into our shared soul,
And the Third Age will then dawn.
Noor Fatima Apr 2020
Entered a place, unseen.
While connected to soul
deep down.
Travelled a long distance;
but not weary.
Probably to see her beloved;
she came forth.
Her serene presence of a black hole, beseeched.
Struck with inner conflict,
Not a single frown on.
People with eerie laughter
keeping an eagle eye on.
Morosely pored, if to ask or not?
Mounted up courage,
not to forlorn
"What's the name of this place?"
Everyone laughed, as if
they knew naught.
Striving to see behind the curtain.
Wouldn't catch up this time too or
Had to go much farther, was true?
Got demons after? Or emotionally ambivalent?
Sought out till filled with light.
Was rescued.
Let it be a dream, concoction or reality...
Who knows?
E Apr 2020
I am summoned into court
The month of September
Being transgender is the trial to be fought
The jury doesn't know how to handle the situation
And nothing is fought

I am summoned months later
The year of 2016
Being transgender is why I'm there
The jury hasn't overcame their pain
And no solution to the chain

Years later I am summoned to court
A stage in my life I couldn't ever see
Being transgender is the reason
The jury has come to an agreement
That it's okay to ease in
There are trials (problems) you are summoned to.
And the jury is the headspace. (Emotions)
the verdict is atlways a lesson to be learned.

Trials reappear when the jury doesn't come to an agreement. And trials will reappear again and again. Until the verdict is learned.

I needed to learn how to fight for myself. Advocate. Never give up.
I needed to release the pain I was dealt. I needed therapy. I needed help alongside advocating for me.
And I was finally able to be my authentic self. To push through the waves of suffocating water and resurface.
The Dybbuk Mar 2020
Encumbered by the lunacies of men,
the seed of joy lays in a greater mind.
The breath will draw you closer to the den,
where every answer waits for one to find.
The self blows as the wind through all the sky,
Monsoons and sighs blown from a single Air.
The wanderings of lust begin to die,
New flowers grow from bones without a care.
The flow of water carves the ancient rock,
as cosmic wheels kaleidoscope through time.
A shepherd hunts a wolf to save a flock,
but canine birth remains its only crime.
Release thy worldly ties upon the skin,
Ascend the stony staircase deep within.
I wrote this poem from the bottom up, in a forest grove, with my love and closest friend.
Zoe Rain Feb 2020
Here it comes, another downward spiral into existential dread and the meager meaning of life. I don't know what emotions feel like anymore. Strip myself down to the core and blast that into ******* oblivion. You wouldn't even know. Look deeper. Look deeper. Look deeper. There's nothing there! ******* and your conniving business partners! Instilling false hope in the minds of people who really just need to be chucked out on their *****, into the dead of night, onto the cold hard ground of true reality. And all the while you're expecting payment.
The Dybbuk Jan 2020
The warping of the walls,
fills my troubled mind with dread,
For in the neon of the night,
is the fear of being dead.
The shaking of the floors,
burns my mind beneath the sun,
And the gunshot lodged inside me,
was the race's starting gun.
Now the air is caving in,
and reality's a lie,
So I jump off this mortal plane,
and sink deep into the sky.
Suddenly, in darkness,
I lose all sense of control
And in the place where I should be,
is a tattered rainbow hole.
This poem was written after my first ego death experience.
Mark Wanless Jan 2020
to see enlightenment
in the mirror
no other choice
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