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Breathe Steady 10.29.20
go forth then, unto God and his Glory, abounding and rejoicing in the power and peace of that holy dwelling place.
abide, therefore, forever in the Love and in the Light.
-sayeth  the channelings, sayeth the distorted mask,
sayeth that through which sound passes.-

sons and daughters of the Earth who bathe in the waters
drawn of love/light/wisdom in the bathhouse of
the higher densities and inner planes.
Bath waters of golden white light, brilliant in a
radial pouring forth of tangible understanding and freewill.
scarcely can such energy be described in so
cumbersome a language, charming as it endeavors to be.
underwhelming must the emotions evoked be
in comparison with the All Glory of experience of
that which is spoken of.
the death ****** of the fire-bird serves as its own
inoculum and womb; two ends of a terminus
in polarity.

I activate in order to combine,
dwindling dread.
I seal the upswing of trans-dimensional laughter,
with the everyday tone of exodus.
I am guided by the advent of thermals.
-I am a solar riptide, surf me-

and then time slowed way down.
the semi trucks were like great sea mammals with
their whale calls and slow passage by the flanks.
“Who are you?”
“I am the Kalachakra.”
“Did you hear that?” (hushed tones, hands cover the phone.)
I was quite close to the illusion of Death.
The opaque specter, shaking and rumbling the very
fabric of the matrix about me.
wavering not within the sinkhole of indifference lest my terror turn manifest.
I’ve risen from a pillar of salt,
I’ll rise from the embers next.
post bufo alvaris
s y kalindara Oct 18
I laid my pen and line to rest for twenty seasons
as the frost settling in my mind and fingers, warmed up to dream
only to waken again by the grace of a lover,
a muse unlike any other,
a kaleidoscope of raining colours.

With the twinkling of your eyes,
the words fell out of my head,
parading on papers for the world to see
just as my veins welcomed the warmth of creativity.

You are the vision behind every verse I'm founding,
thirteen in counting,
a finer motive than fresh air and tranquil sleep
every fibre is clawing at me to keep you close
to never fade away like a withering rose.

Will my senses still serve me without your touch?
Will I ever write again if I let myself forget
the melody of your voice and your silhouette?
I'm not ready to find out just yet.

We have taken a vow, my pen and I
to keep you alive, for an age or two
or however long it might take to find
our glory in someone new.

Copyright © 2020 by S. Y. Kalindara. All rights reserved.
Thinking about how I stopped writing for 5 years until I met Jordan and he inspired me in ways I didn't think possible. I'm still writing because of him, and about him. I feel like I can't let go, that I'll disgrace his memory if I do.
Lanech Oct 13
The sun would shine into my eyes,
And cause a reflection upon the land,
And the rythme of my heart became the fate of all men.
Stanza B ... Do you want to know what happened to the writer?
BSween Oct 1
See the people getting old before their time.
That’s their road but it  sure ain’t mine.
I have yet to find my glory
Make my mark
Tell my story.
Nylee Sep 30
who is the winner,
who is the loser,
ask the ashes, dust and paper.

the papers inked from history
what does it really tell.

the victor of half the world,
he had to surrender too,
who is the real victor
when the time came
and even the greatest empire fell!

A single word in history,
maybe not even that,
like losing identity
with a swish of a spell

Ink the story,
blue, black, deep
where I haven't even been
My ancestor's glory
won't keep the gleam
the light will fade off
the coming years will tell.

A select, an opportunity, a calling
it is coming with the wind,
but what does it really mean
what does it sell?

wise words,
and nothing, well!

No name for the fame,
a letter to begin,
but it is the end, expel.

My end, and yours
we'd leave the world,
leave behind our body
what of the legacy,
is there even one?
I'd be in places,
earth, heaven or hell

would it matter even,
I am going off empty hand
my hands that type won't accompany even.
Everything is Living

Aug 9, 2016

Everything is Living
What’s dying is simply Leaving.
It’s passing, it will never be as it never was.
What’s living is unseen.
it is hidden out of sight.
Where where you when
He made the skies?
If you want to **** a man,
spill the insides.
Mankind has never been kind
To the Environment
and even to his own kind.

I saw God accused for giving us free will,
For this has brought us all our woes.
I heard Satan accused for Wickedness.
But isn’t it us misusing knowledge?

In this life.
the more foolish you are,
the wiser you can be.
The hunger you have
propels you to get more.
Unlike greed
which chokes your faith
And selfishness
which blocks your reception.
These two
will crowd your perception
Leading you
to your internal plus eternal death.

What is it that we don’t have in this life?
Is it the infinity of dollars,
Or aeons of time?

Do you know you can have it all
and still save your precious soul?
Or make a foul
and have it all to lose it all.
Including the soul
you never was worthy of...

I’m forever poor,
I’ll inherit heaven and earth.

Fair and fairer He is,
The goats will inherit the flames.
They once burned
with zealous lust full of pride.
But now
in their tormenting anguish
they can’t commiserate.
Chained to the depth
ov the ocean ov fire.
like their heinous names
With none to mislead
but their deceived and cloned children.
proses for the immortal souls
He has a Master Plan
Master Plan of what?
Pain, misery, hunger, want
A moment of happiness
Thousand moments of sadness
Blaming humans
For their fate everytime
Just to keep His glory pristine
Never to take blame
In His name
Only to put humans
To shame
He has a Master Plan!
Sterne sonder Zahl aus der Nacht aller Zeiten
in einem klaren Ozean bewegt ihr euch
wenn ich euch mit menschlichem Zeitempfinden betrachte
seid ihr im Rhythmus der Jahreszeiten ewig
doch wenn ich in längeren zeitlichen Dimensionen an euch
denke so weiss ich euch sterblich.
Die entfernte Stadt löscht ihre Lichter
in der dichten Nacht erscheint ihr mal zögernd,
mal überzeugt über den Bergen wohlgesinnt.
In eurer Herrlichkeit findet mein Herz seine Ruh.


Stelle, innumeri dalla notte dei tempi
in un liquido oceano vi muovete
se con il mio tempo umano vi guardo
al ritmo delle stagioni eterne siete
ma se con altri e più lunghi tempi a voi
penso come cose mortali vi so.
Spegne la città lontana le sue luci
nella densa notte incerte qui e là sicure
sopra i monti benevole apparite.
Nella vostra gloria riposa l’animo mio.
A poem of mine translated into German by Cornelia Masciadri and currently being published in Switzerland. I am looking for an English translator. I can translate into Italian and look for a space in a magazine in Italy for those interested.
Shalom Elara Sep 3
That morning Glory
Which children spread.
Over earth and sky,
Lingers like secret sunshine.
Permeating a multitude of roofs,
A multitude of rooms.

On oceanside grey,
Their precious feet tread.
Bringing refresh of light,
With every laugh.
I gaze at the sand,
With remnant proof that
Children of light walked here.
When I am still,
The Wind brings me
Whisper of their joy.

Giggling brooks,
Shining stars,
Vibrant flowers of the field,
Cannot compare
To the sweet music
Of Child's contagious laughter,
And the light God gave them,
Shining clear through their eyes of bright.
The first paragraph has some themes inspired by G.K. Chesterton's book on Saint Francis of Assisi.
Sungmoo Bae Aug 31
Batteries of the skies;
booming thunders, and so are you.
You, the whirlwind the most ferocious,
befit such name ever notorious -

    ever in a strife of your own
    seemingly unending.

The whirlwind strikes hard
and fast, and as such; angels of death
descending, striking from the faint heavens
to accomplish its sole purpose, destructive in nature,

beseeching its everlasting glory
that’d evoke the sun’s jealousy, even.
Alas! You carry out the task
that spares none of the land,

taking away the dearest one from another, weeping,
flipping cars and engines from where they're standing,
while plucking out the road signs once robust
and even the trees once deemed so ancient -

none is spared but wrecked
before the might of the whirlwind
the total annihilation being its sole identity -
the one that destroys in the name of thy honor

    and in the very name of glory in vain.
    You look around -

only to see none has survived
or has been left alive; spectating
the empty earth and the water
while being dispersed, scattered amidst the air,

lifted by the hands of thy maker
disappearing - joining the void specters,
and thus befitting the word, truly,
the vainglory.
If interested, you can also visit my Facebook page as well:

(C) Copyright: Saul Bae
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