Melodic syntricity
Break silenced walls
Ignite the worlds inherited
Smashing, Tumbling, Crashing
Weight beared upon my core
Heads risen high
Om of echoes many
Decimate shade of cloaks
Destin for sepulcher
Has met.
No strength like this
Love of one
Love of many
Eyes wide bright
No journey too malice
Afflicted or brutal
Could slaughter.
My angels
Our spiritual kin
In which
I name
My creator
Ormond 5d

Our tryst was sore, more like pain or penance,
What kerfuffles in our unspoken for eyes
And love grew low, by unanswered questions.
How could we laugh, live in such indifference,

Long, unmerciful time, grinding us down
With not even limitless skies for leaven?
Each day was comic-tragedy, no Eden,
Lives flooded about, simple pleasures drowned.

Yet, each day we dreamed with harnessed wings
Bound together in the throngs, restless journey,
A promise was made on some green gentle isle
And we made our golden shifts such shining things,

Running to rays, future dawns never to come,
Shining things falling mute in dry rots of sun.
Sept. 10, 1987

Inside old ladies on bicycles
I see ghosts of young girls,
pigtails flying from beneath their greying hair
eyes sparkling behind thick glasses.

I search in me, for ghosts of hopscotch
and double-dutch, two-balls and tag.
I can feel them shimmer,
holograms of my youth.

I search, too, for the ghost
of the old lady I will become.
I sense her, frail but determined,
fading, but not dead before she dies.

If little girls live inside old ladies,
and age hides just beneath young faces,
there is no such thing as time.
Like the Beast with his collar
Is Man with his dollar.

The collar, you see, restrains the beast
In his pursuit of a fancier feast.
The dollar, then, restrains the man
From following after his self-centered plan.

Blue collars, white collars,
Dollars dripped in red.
Which collar, for you,
Will they place around your head?

Will you be led to believe that the collar you earn
Is solely based on the knowledge you learn?
Or will you discover that the number of dollars
Determines the number and color of collars?

It is good and well to aid mankind
Upon this noble trek;
But do it for the reasons of progress and love;
And not a collar squeezing your neck.
"And the second beast required all people small and great, rich and poor, free and slave, to receive a mark on their right hand or on their forehead, so that no one could buy or sell unless he had the mark — the name of the beast or the number of its name."
I see you on the track
Breathing heavily, sighing
Running in circles
We returned to our lands
Ages ago
With bright yellow discs
Hung on our necks,
Pride of our nation's glory,
I see you on the track
Breathing heavily, sighing
Running in circles
What happened to you?
Are you deaf or blind?
Or awaiting a signal to stop?
We returned to our lands
Ages ago
But I see you on the track
Breathing heavily, sighing
Running in circles
A flaming spirit behind
Driving your worldly desires
To glorify the nation
Shattering your own limits.
We retured to our lands
Ages ago
Quiet and silent
We rest sitting here
Meditating. . .
I see you on the track
Breathing heavily, sighing
Running in circles
2018 March 15
Nimbus Mar 12
I can no longer hide
My soul ignited

once disparaged
I long to share it

The chills in my spine put into words

Lips on skin
Eyes filled with sin

What is this sensation

I drip colors you cannot see

Heightening my passion
Enhancing my touch

Raw emotion channeled as such

My desire aches
The color of flush
My cage breaks
Expressions of lust

I do not fear it
I can hear you blush

My favorite sound

Our souls combust
My restless soul longs for something fulfilling
Maxwell Shaw Mar 12
Damn it...

Time and time

And time again

I find myself

Stuck between a twist

Within spin I think everything

Is finally settled down

Only to get back up

On my feet

To see flames around me

At certain points I ask God & his son

Why work this way with me

Why let me bathe in

This immense heat

Sweat resting on my forehead

Blood surrounding my feet

Tears ready to take lift off

From my broken eyes

Is this price of attempting to

Be Great....

Tell me!!! Answer my question

Hear my I looked

Up at the sky all I saw

Was the storm and all I felt

Was the pain I continued

To crawl and scratch my way through what I felt like

Was hell using every piece

Of strength I had left

Wondering what was the point

And after awhile I finally came to a

Just when I thought all was lost
I realized

The heat

The storm

The pain

Was no more

I looked up only to see

Big clouds and a clear sky

Then it happened a voice

Spoke inside my head must first see the dark

Before you behold the light....

Be strong not weary....

Those word from now and forever I would

Always hold dear to me
This is for everyone going through something very serious or deep that no know could ever understand or you can't express right now let this be the remedy to it all I love you guys.
Mystic Ink Mar 12
Rest from modern wave of life

Reset subconscious mind
Let the subtle spirit awake
Theme: Spiritual Inspirational
Ormond Mar 4
In the butterfly I see,
The soft seeding of mystery,
In the buzz of bees,
There are immortal histories,
As the wild geese fly,
I hear monks chanting on high,
In crow of craven rook,
There is wisdom more than book,
By heron there is knowing,
Cycles of life in still waters flowing,
In sky for all to witness,
Clouds shaping our dreams, limitless,
In symmetries of snowflake,
Are whispers louder than any thunderclap,
Swans in sky, if we would look,
Hum their wings as babble from brook,
In a blade of green grass,
Their are running grains of hourglass,
In temple of solitary pine,
There is a scent intoxicating as wine,
At the ponds edge are fables,
Deep as the sun sparkling on its tables,
In dear wood there are fires bright,
In the eyes that hear and see at night,
On the great oceans are crests,
More shining, noble than any kings breast,
In the grey, lowly moth I see,
A wondrous butterfly wanting to be.
Nicky Mar 3
As time sits still, I sit here and wonder
If time exists, this question I ponder
The clock goes around, twenty four hours a day
Time is an illusion, so some say

If time is an illusion then how do we measure
Look back and feel, pain or pleasure
The past is gone, the future, yours for the taking
It's up to you, the memories you'll be making

This game called life well it's fully in your hands
Don't leave it to chance, get on, make those plans
Do the very thing that sets your spirit on fire
Go after everything, what do you desire

And when it's all over what will have you achieved
All that your spirit wanted, previously agreed
As time sits still I sit here and wander
If time exists, this question I ponder
Next page