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Khoisan Jan 2021
Mother Mary stood in the rain
with angel wings rainbow strained
where contrite victory
prayer and history
flourished against the grain.
Pray without cease
Mark Wanless Dec 2020
want to lift up world
i falter at each new weight
suffering a must
when parallel worlds collide
no words may be spoken
of the chaos left inside
how about this
you were not there
it was not real
my missing parts
you did not steal
digging deeper
deepest down
I found some thing
made me bold
alchemical gold
cannot be bought
cannot be sold
still brought a lot of trouble to my door
 future, present and what went before.
hide it in a bushell
why do the white gulls call? (everyday must have its poem)*


the cries are intelligible,
each a separate story of:
patient waiting, of seas
unending waving, unchanging,
cycling, waiting, prophesying,
propelling history, retaining a
staining past, future similar...

why do the white gulls call?

for evening tide rapid approaching,
we may even have a decent sunset,
first worthy of being drunk toasted,
all reminders that this ordinary Monday,
has nearly escaped without an extraordinary
composition, you prone position negates
inspiration, so rouse yourself, rise taller

tribute due, tribute demanded, tribute needed,
that is why the gulls screech, fearful of lapse,
that poet will suppress what is compelled, no,
compulsed! the senescent days offer no excuse,
indeed, the time of limitation is nigh, is here,
the gulls know their history human, its lore,
needs foretelling, retelling, and keeping

humans come and go, but gull generations require
the prescient precision of their words, to define,
to record each day’s unique way of living/dying,
so they can become forebears of the future,
the passers down, of that they cannot exclaim well,
we humans are their heroes, living close by,
we carry the gulls thanks given, for skilled appreciation

so they cry out, is our poem be readied, for the day’s end
comes closer and
every day must have its poem!
sundial iris Jun 2020
six trees gathered, a single stand,
looking for a gathering, standing of four more,
a prayer circle to make, branch to branch
holding onto each other, to have their bark better
heard, the question on the table, today’s agenda:

why must trees die?

overheard their human querying same, the proud trees
too, puzzled, sending their inquiry to the heavens that
feed them never failing, water to quench a rooted deep
thirst, their role, job description well understood, purposed
to shade the world, give off fruit, so tasked, so asked:

why must trees die?

Caught the busy Lord unawares, dealing with seasonal pandemics,
endemic hatred from the frailings of  human weakness, who honor
pretense by their mouth moving, but don’t believe their enunciation,
oh! tiresome battlefront, millions of casualties inflicted on each other,
Lord could not countenance another self-interested questioning of his earthly architecture

why must trees die?

on a beautiful paradisal day, cumulus whites decorating a blue coloratura that never be quite replicated, quieting, five-sense waters at ease, minimal moving, lunching noon hour,the birds, insects, rabbits all retired to cooling reservoirs, munch, gnaw, pollinate, yet the trees misjudge the sun dial iris quietude in the manger, the grove, as the Lord’s good graceful forgiving demeanor, therefore shocking, disbelieving the unforgiving ruthlessness of a deity of love, so the

cracking of a single bolt of punishing, purposed lighting, that knocked all the trees down, single blow, roots embruing, ember glowed, a “sounding” the world hears unoften, unremitting, not understanding its other-worldliness, so rare appearing when an actualized answer is returned, declarative, tangible, glorious words:

because I am who I am, The Eternal, alone, who keeps the imperfect balance of all my creations, without oversight, asking only from them
acceptance of things beyond earthly comprehension...
God's Oracle May 2020
My overactive imagination roams tapping into the rhythmic vibrations of the Multiverse. With each passing moment I converse with my Inner Child "the pure spirit of freedom from worldly views able to only love deeply yet without favoritism forgive all trust all be kind meek and humble to all having a gentle touch towards humanity and their flaws" the Mature Man "a augmentation of millions of ideas, information about what we know and what we think we know about God and it's celestial hosts...combining reason, wisdom, discipline and complexity to what our Creator has made simple for us to understand believe live and abide by....forming a TRUE Relationship with his Only Begotten Son Jesus Christ" and finally our fictional and surreal yet real and "Instinctual Self" pure living conciousness the epicenter of where our child mind develops to a mature mind our IMAGINATION & DREAM Self. In between this transference I had a revelation that my Inner Child and my Instictictual Self where far much greatly developed than my Mature Self and I knew then due to my knowledge of the unknown had vastly growed in massive proportions. High price to pay though for being hypersensitive and deeply gifted with the speciality to bend energies visualize auras foretell Destiny Numbers and write draw and do anything I set my mind to doing outstandingly well over others. My overactive imagination couped with hypersensitivity and able to tap to spiritual dimension freely able to transmit healing or cursing to others thru words of power and Tongues Of Divine or Demonic nature have created a conception that I was born a Schizophrenic and to that I do NOT deny its existence within the inner mechanisms of my conciousness and perception towards Life and reality. It's true I am schizophrenic but I have learned to live with my mental disorder...yet I see it more as a Gift than a curse. Self pity, victimizing myself, self loathe, self deception, self sabotage and grandiose illusions created long ago by my Inner Child is what I deal with in my day to day basis. Visual, Auditory and Inceptive thoughts become real to me combined with excessive amounts of free time and sedentary lifestyle I choosen to adapt to molding my current situation I have become too comfortable with this style of living. Deep inside I want to do different I want to mature and be a full grown man and take care of myself but am so afraid of failing I have given up on trying something new for a change. My reward is slowly self destructing because I feel unworthy of having a different kind of life than the one am currently living. Am terrified of the consequences I'll have to face if I fail at becoming my own self sufficient person that I so much want to be. Nevertheless, God I pray to thee you will empower me to take on this challenge and change and become what I want to become a full functioning Grown Adult taking on a job, financial stability, a wife, couple kids and a happy life. In my case NOT all is lost but I have realized I do NOT like responsibility,  I don't know how to take the right steps forward to be what I envision to be but not all is lost I will keep persuing my dream on one day being able to become and be what I envision ...A happy full Grown Man Mature and wise enough to do the right thing. With God's help and me communicating my current struggles to someone I can trust I can start taking small steps on changing me and my life and lifestyle. So help me God. I realize that for me to finally reach my end goal is a lifetime of progress not perfection. Is committing myself towards doing something different and sticking to the plan layed before me. I have an extremely difficult time going thru change because am so used to being spoiled, taking the easy way out, living a double lifestyle and having ways to prey and use my gifts to exploit others vulnerable emotions and use them as pawns to fulfill my own twisted sense of altered life and reality. This I need to work on day and night to use my gifts to help others instead of how can I benefit from the arising circumstances and situations I am dealing with and what can I gain from playing with people's time, emotions, perception, and energy cues...that I can easily tap into and administer small changes day by day till they start to feel the need to do things how I want them to do it by implementing small radical shifts of change in their primal energy pool. Devicing ways to slowly set them to pay for their time being spent on being disobedient towards theirselves and converting them slowly to become more distant towards their Mature Self in time becoming more disciplined towards self perdition and destruction leaning on a touch of Godliness with extreme amounts of self indulgence towards this World and it's carnal temporal luxuries we all partake into practicing. I want to instead begin to heal them slowly listen more carefully and attentively empower them to be focused on God rather than themselves...on the spirit rather than the instant gratification gained from the temporal carnal pleasures and enjoy the experiences of a deep and personal relationship to a higher power that they can tap to and call upon when in doubt or need. I am NOT saying I haven't done this before with others either but when I have tried they push me away because their afraid of a pure change of mind heart and soul. We are all confined to a prison within our own minds and we are doomed if we don't release them "the mind" from it. True Love is what matters and with it we can truly change the world. May God be with you always. Thanks for reading.
My Spiritual Gifts. Self explanation of my own reality and how I deal with Life in my own way.
Dominique Feb 2020
If we ate the rich
We could build playhouses from their bones
Paint fairytales onto marrow
Watch our children dig pixie dust from the grooves
Charleston to their windchime laughter

If we ate the rich
We could pave roads with their teeth
Crushed into twinkling mosaics
Speed in glee down the polished calcium roads
Walk on blooms of gold and lilac at sunset

If we ate the rich
Their skin could line our altars
Or catch the heat slipping through our walls
To warm our hearts or frozen feet
Whichever love was needed most

If we ate the rich
And cleaned our teeth for ligaments
And spat out the fatty gristle
And when all that remained of the last billionaire
Were just an eyesocket and some coins

We could sit back,
Minds and bellies full to the brim,
Fragmented bourgeoisie burps ringing, melodious,
And laugh at those who claimed, in the old days,

"You can't eat money".
eat the rich :)
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