Can You See?

Whose soul your steady breath does reward
For but only existing on this heavenly plane
I wish you would open up to me!
See all I can as well?
but you don’t see it this way.
as most probably not.

If so Maybe I can convince you,
Maybe I can show you,
how true I could possibly be.

Unfortunately, you will not hear me out,
it seems I’ll have to forever shout.
but please,
believe in me

Additional content assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy

by C

When you’re buried
You see the face
a mask
i spit blood
when things were trying to hurt us.
All I know how to do is Here
It is my job to be God
Live like you might as well be dead

assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy

by C

Down to the soft earth
for no greater inner rapture
as the sight of you sleeping

Together, we can face anything
Life throws our way

then that joy is not one known by me
forcefully ripping out my raw emotions,

i spit blood

assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy

The Traveler
by C

I like to play on the relationship between color and perception.
I find that it brings
a subtle emotion out from within.
Like a woman looking to hitch a ride.
“Might I please step inside?”
The woman asks as she stands in the night
“You may have a place here, if you so inquire, but you may find it a clearer journey if you cross some other way. I have nothing, but hate inside this place here.”
“Do not worry about my being,” she says solemnly as she slowly walks through my door.
What is she after?
No one could possibly find it here.
She’ll probably come across it.
Long after she leaves this place.

Additional content assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy

by Evan Spooner

I am talking with my friend
Saying over & over
to join me

but my mind told me
at the end. there was only space

for thoughts.

assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy


 
by Evan Spooner

approach
ask
without a word
 
by Evan Spooner

These people call this Faith,
bring them to my table
the next bit of gospel
I wrote on a napkin.

assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy
 
by Evan Spooner

I’m dying the other five
Quite possibly
It may hide all
it’s a mask My head
modified,

assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy

 
by Evan Spooner

Sometimes
I never really expect anything
In return


Nothing
Left

I can’t handle all these choices.
like wishes of dandelions
“Please pay attention to me.”
“These can’t be saved.”
Here and there,
Nowhere.

If there’s a reason
It’s lost on me
Let this run its course

When I found the one dark road
a knowing glance

You’ve reached the deepest part
The splendor of the stats.

Moonlight floods my window,
I shouldn’t be so tired

assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy and in The Lakelander, Lakeland Community College, Kirtland OH

I will love the idea of what I will be
“I used to believe that I could find the light in anyone;
In me I lost the ability to see the light.”

I love and hate me

BUT

There is a time to let go.
Humans are also stardust.
Wrangling all the stars into our own constellations

assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy and in The Lakelander, Lakeland Community College, Kirtland OH

by Arthur  B.L. FOP

Looks as though the heavens have finally released the weight of the stars to the ground
As I marvel at this, a twinge of fear arises. In this modern age I warn humanity to not let the computer think for you.
being murdered by a knife is more painful than any other weapon
tools to assist in our quest for knowledge, but in a culture of instant gratification they can be easily abused
Essentially if people do not sufficiently exercise their own mental capacities mangling nuance out-of-order

assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy and from the second Jigsaw Workshop

Chapter 3
Positive Reinforcement
by Johnny Utah

bio of human development with a theory vocabulary
Timeless COGNITIVE LEARNING of God and without pretense,

Long live Capitalist
A rusty blade to the King
& don’t save the Queen
need more pennies

Observation #2

I was wrong. I’ve become a monster.
They live in the battlefield.
Hiding behind real American faces,

I spend most of my week
In the back of a factory
Where I sell my free time
Now all I can feel is scorn and hate.
We are a world of truth benders
Rule breakers

Remember this the next time you try to make an angel into something it isn’t. They, and you, are the imperfect remnants of an arbitrary undertaking.

assembled from works published by Beautiful Blasphemy and in The Lakelander, Lakeland Community College, Kirtland OH