I saw a satyr in the woods, A centaur in the meadow; Travelling on, I remarked on a fawn Hallowing out reeds for a pipe. The world around me was green, The water ran clear, cold and fresh, The air I breathed was historic. Crosses were in the future. No Mecca to visit, No Temple to rebuild.
I am a beach ***, a sun-worshipper, a tree hugger. I will worship the dove, not the sacrifice. I will homage the god of the kingdom that is here, Before she rejects her offspring.
These are interesting times Blessing cursing each moment Smelling like the '80s Rhyming with the '60s Cringing like the '40s Gasping at '17
It's The War of The Worlds II Man versus man versus nature and self A free-for-all melee, just name it Where bacteria and viruses and gas and atoms Will be our doom in the end But not before we've wreaked havoc
My soul is getting restless Wishing to sail away Far from mortal misery the earthy fear and woes but waiting here as human with no way to call to home Searching every corner hoping that hiding somewhere deeply It will find the a map, the gateway too, a way across the sea of stars to sail back to its celestial home with you the galaxy will be ours.
Bright and open to bold new worlds Gold laden galaxies of glass, swirled With emerald rings of the infinite Darkness and unknowable wonders, Gazing back, so beautifully intimate, Calling through space and time, viewing the universe reflected in hers
I know how to grab your attention, but I'm not sure how to keep it, so I'll keep this as shallow as I can before diving into the deep end.
I know how to bob and weave, but I'm not sure what I believe in. Something to do with the conservation of energy, I think; expending it in a dream-like series of experiences before eventually going back to being a part of Everything.
I know how to cut a rug, but . . . well actually I don't think I know what that means. Hang on while I look it up:
To dance. "Twenty disco classics on one CD. Now there's music to cut a rug to." Usage notes: also used in the form cut a mean rug ( to dance very well): "This flamenco dancer cuts a mean rug."
I want to feel the glory of the thing that is breathing Not to take for granted that my heart continues to beat rather I am waiting for the day it will finally stop this pounding
I search for true cold to invade my bones Or the joyous passion of true love’s heat In the pit of my stomach, deep that won’t let me sleep If I could only ache of yearning for connection with another’s eager skin
To smile when I feel goose bumps rise on my pale uncovered skin As the cold winter rains soak through silk night clothes Or morning Sun sending its cosmic rays from space To kiss my cave dwellers skin with a touch of golden life and a dream that there could be more
I want to comb the Sun’s blonde fire hair Instead of only dreaming of the stars That we are all stardust We can breathe in magic of life That I will one day be free Of this life that requires so many deep and sorrowful breaths