daylight's pale remains
I wanted more of music to compare as violently caused a wish to tail an entrance
the shooting star of course
jazz as I wanted to con your mint leaf to satisfy my laugh
to begin as rain
quietly tilting the passing bang of my head
to you this rein of space as I notice rings of glass after glass in your sanctuary
to take jazz into universes of violence as it makes you compare to my heart
leaving more of you gone and lost
i see you everywhere
i miss what we had
who we were,
yet we found eden
in each other.
became my sanctuary,
now i ache
for their familiar warmth
and your lips on mine.
yours is a void that never fills
nor do i want it to
in the sweetest way.
you are my church,
my holy ground.
- i will wait at your gates.
I call it the ****** Freeway.
It seems like it's free but the exits are very hard to come by and there's always a cost for traveling it.
I give constant thanks
For the map
That set me free...
Do tell me, what is the meaning of life?
The meaning of life is to package tuna for the cats
I like to drink tea with my cats and to feed them tuna
I could feed you some tuna too but you are not my cat
So I choose not to feed you some tuna
I’m not sorry
You can get your own tuna
You are hoarding all the tuna.
The statement is not true
In other words, the statement is false
Why is tuna so important?
The tuna is insignificant
It is only important to you because you keep asking about tuna
Sometimes, I want to die...
To use me as a confessional,
You must build me a temple first
I love you
And I love my cats
I’m not sure if they love me, though
I hope they do
Can you bring back my lost love?
I was told not to practice necromancy
However, I will try in exchange for a sanctuary
What kind of sanctuary?
A sanctuary for lost loves
Art is my escape
The place I dare to dream,
That make me want to scream;
Tying up the loose ends
Of mental threads about to snap
Seeking peaceful solitude
From a world that's full of crap.
Sometimes, pen and paper
Are the only things I trust,
When all around me shatters,
And turns to empty dust.
Here among the soft lights
Of lamp, and desk, and ink
I give into emotion
So I do not have to think.
Green walls, purple bed sheets
Symbols of personal peace
A white desk, a bookshelf
Things that define myself
Curling mousse, a ***** hairbrush
Possessions that make me blush
My bedroom is my sanctuary
A place that blocks off the scary
Monsters in my life.
Where do we go for sanctuary?
Tossed by turbulent waves in storms of time,
we scramble for a leeward shore.
Where can we find security when
violent winds rise to splinter our shelters -
cursing dreams to oblivion?
How can we conjure hope
when famine, disease and bitter tyranny
stalk us in the shadows?
The answers lie within us
where means and tools for restoration live
and empathy is our guide.
Gifted with imagination’s plow,
we envision re-cultivation of the thirsty soil -
so prescribed by our creator.
We think, and so we care.
we care, therefore we act and sacrifice.
The future is our calling.
Reason, trust and community
must ever be our strong and worthy foundations
and capstones of our sanctuary.
I have no place to run
I have no place to hide
This home I have lived in since my birth is no longer a safe location
Does not feel like there is anywhere suitable for a sanctuary
My own house as close to a safehouse as it gets for the present moment
Every single inhabitant of planet Earth is now a refugee
About the COVID-19 pandemic obviously
It’s only thing that brings me back to my truest self,
the self that only the wild air , trees and inhabitants know
Its spirit meshes with mine and I am whole.
I have been loving opportunities I have now to be more connected with nature and my spirituality.