I want this life to read like an intricate novel. I don’t want to keep sitting at a computer all day while the romance of life slips through my arthritic fingers. They are meant to write beautiful prose that flow over our souls and cover them with golden warmth.

Yet they are tippy-tappy typing away at exhausting, unimaginative emails with signatures like “warmest regards” to cover how calloused my heart has become.

Sitting in this comfortable space behind a giant screen where nothing can hurt me is crippling.  We were meant to embrace the love this earth holds us in. We are supposed to bathe in rivers, meet strangers in different cities, and learn to fall. My knees should have scrapes, my elbows bruised from stumbles I take on dirt roads and motorbikes.

While my bones are intact, my life is what is breaking.

new announcement:
due Monday at 11:59 PM
unit assignment
requires: more energy than I can muster right now.

each morning repeats;
wake up to notifications and expectations
forcing a mindset that is almost impossible to maintain
every minute that passes
is a minute wasted.

timelines approach,
all that is felt is
indescribable exhaustion
is that assignment really due,
or is this all my imagination?

this all feels like
an overlapping, metaphorical Sisyphus;
every day I push one boulder up a hill,
but there are several others deserving of my attention
and they are never ending.

Kindred (II)
by Michael R. Burch

Rise, pale disastrous moon!
What is love, but a heightened effect
of time, light and distance?

Did you burn once,
before you became
so remote, so detached,

so coldly, inhumanly lustrous,
before you were able to assume
the very pallor of love itself?

What is the dawn now, to you or to me?
We are as one,
out of favor with the sun.

We would exhume
the white corpse of love
for a last dance,

and yet we will not.
We will let her be,
let her abide,

for she is nothing now,
to you
or to me.

Published by Songs of Innocence. Keywords/Tags: moon, pale, disastrous, remote, detached, cold, inhuman, lustrous, pallor, love, itself, white, corpse

My psychic energies are energized , warm, and strong


Signaling waves of physical feeling, warmth of a beating heart felt, and ****** moves exchanged.


Though miles apart, we are physically and in soul, together.Real.


Our blood flows through our veins and we appear to each other as our bodies sweat and touch is fused and cannot be changed.


The lightening sounds as we make love over waves so real


Sensual rhythms so bold and understandably near


we fuse together.


Real love and the desire for one another satisfied


as the remote seduction pleasurably brings our bodies to wet and desired ******


Forever.


We long for our lives to become just as fused as our psychic bodies..


we know the attraction is here…


we both ****** under a huge yellow moon….


as destiny dictates the night of lust and also deep love


between two people from two far away places


Sweat draws full and near…


Our hearts begin to swoon….


as we celebrate our need and wanting for one another


in pure exotic form..


we are now physically and soulfully an art-form alike no other..


The ritual of the senses is a fire that rages on..


Until we return to our originating soul’s taken up places….


We know we never need to feel alone or deep in separation from our bodies..souls…and love..


For we can fly, at will, remotely to greet one another as our eyes


lock


as we enjoy admiring one another’s beauty and faces.

Integration of spirit and body, is a reason for being mortal for a while
for some
secret reason

known only to the initiates,
the Melchisidekean

Priest hood, known by believers to be Jesus, Pre-existancy
Avatar thingy do.

Ah, but Lucifer and he were bros, y'know. The rub, that nagging urge,

get up and move the wagon, why lie
there comfy in your bubble
believing not all spirits are from God, but

some are. Try the spirits, if they can preach the good news
the angels brought:
God and the disconnected reconnected, Joy flows to the world.
Alleluia, right.
-- note: no list of do/don'ts save common sense.

Plugitin plugitin a bean in y'ear, a bean in y'ear
about as big as a yeast
beast.

Leaven, y'know, comes in flavors. Like proteins,

most leavening things leaven only one thing,
however,
word borne leaven leavens
everything,

and we ain't speakin' even-jello-ic jiggle of crystalizatio,

we talking boomin' gaseous gluten intro-learyant
beans, beans, beans po'folk beans
leavenistical
words witcha maya hoid yo grama say

breathe. Be leaving all your lies and tries to us as we
dare to cast our care

wind words, net let out, starboard,
un-error-o-matic
good new net. Wait.

The love we won
is so remote.  
The time has gone
since we wrote.

Pain concealed
behind pale hands.
A heart be healed
in distant lands.

Hear my plea
in simple rhyme.  
Words cross the sea
and mind no climb.

Ditch the knife
my love is true.
I give my life
for one with you.

I Recall… by Jessie 10/06

Recall the day from whence you came
When endless days were not the same
Take hold and care
Do not let go
For I recall

Black and white and hues of gray
Recount the dullard of the days
Eyes reflect of empty stares
Untouched, remote
As I recall

Both corners of the mouth
Turned, neither north nor south
All affect was lost, cast into the night
Twas but the shadows, which changed the face
As I recall

Turtle days, creeping by
If only I, knew how to cry
Swallow hard
Choke it down
Yes! I recall

Then, sun lit rays seeping in
Stained the room, and cleansed the sins
Melted heart and heightened senses
Colors now abound
As I recall

Tranquil peace, this stranger’s name
Known by more, but all the same
Intervening, locking heads
Saved me from my tortured cell
As I recall