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Donna Oct 2019
little red robin
sitting in a autumn tree
smiling happy vibes

❤️
:-))) saw a robin today cute little birds xxxxxx
Ken Pepiton Aug 2019
and they began t' sing
marching single file

from the west

no masqued men were these,
these were
Kachina whitemen only saw in curio stories,
now,
approaching the old
prosper-specter

sitting full-lotus in his Barco-lounger, curbside-score,
from the land of too much good stuff

still, it's America, best effort men have made,

up to now.
The whole world has known since the International Geophysical Year,
1957, when the Symbolized Face of the Hungarian Freedom Fighter,

graced
the cover of Time, as Man of the Year before, when they lost
their war
and nobody cared, because
every body knew Disneyland is the Happiest Place on Earth,
where wishes can come true, and

that place is in America as sure as

blue fairy, you'real wish, Urielistical wish-grant,
Asrael and the others
singing backup
reload
when you wish
side-really… and a subtle shift in per
spect capacity
let be, just so,

and haps sub tile into layers of complexity re

because we, the people born to mature in the environs of Dublin
writ large, we
seers endowed with tele-vison, from birth.
The elders who watched the roll-out.
Aye, we watched
us evolve
to now

our future bright they say, a bright white light, then what

now,
we can say. The seals have been broken.
Nothing hidden now stays that way in ever,

and ever, as you know it, began

sometime
agone afore in some direction beyond your
ken, as it were when kenning the way of a knack was
as common as dowsers in the desert of my childhood.

What's in any name but what the namer seems?
Hey, yah way, tha'swhat I say,
tell me
what I say
Hey
Dancing shuffle footed single file
pass the white shirt black tie messenger from
the telestial king down Sonora way,
via
Yahoo, feel that tickle fo' a nickle, Hiram say come see
come feel
a boinin' in d' boosum through

the very crystal lenses

portal-ible model
through which Joseph of the name
Smith,
-- link back to Cain, through Tubal, via Na'amah--
-- set a breadcrumb, landmark, tag- say good old way
-- sign out don't break the story

through which Joseph of the name
Smith, came sayin an angel of light came with another gospel,

maybe the same guy the Galatians were warned to ignor,
re-legate-- re-read- start at the top
or all meaning is
like a song sung by Kansas, when we aren't there,
any more, than those wee
merest kachina jingle bells listing in the winds

but the Kansas chorus is stuck asif dust is all a simple

higgs-ified mind can manage to
regulate

without reading any ancient landmarks on maps of meaning
tattoo'd to the face in your mirror

in the darkest memory you hold
dear,
dearest,
your precious, in your Gollum-purpose state you know so well
protect it for all its worth,
with only your
strength
to lift
being the measure of worth-ship.

Ex-tol the worth of no bher-don born while in my state,
poor
un-gifted.  I remain a mortal soul linked mitochondrially to thee,
for whom the bell
told. You heard, but you were tolled don't ask.

Listen, the same hunch that said, It don't mean nuthin',

when you say you know that,
you bet you do.

I slew this dragon, not you. I say what the map says.

The dragon died of natural causes, so now,
all its true-sures
is yers…
Crown o'glory moon shine

plumb pert-nigh perfect fiture
imagined happy place to a T, crossed
and I dotted

Bleibe Doch! This is where all the Faustian Losers left their marks.

This is not where I aimed t'be said the elder bro,

as the wastrel was welcome t'Dada arms,
the crucial critics rave
Sheiszkunst, who Rah!
isis throws
a party for the prodigal madrigal has returned
from the pig's sty

packing each redeemed pearl, his brother once
fed to swine.

bent low 'neath his pearl-loaded ****-pack, he lifts his head,
waves his
crown, Fini,

come see, he says.
where I live, nowadays.

This is that treasure, on another level
as you may imagine,
free, if

you accept charity.

{There's the rub, say professional older bro, I know, charity;
'taint fair,
s'foul some, some ne'er-do-well finds a
pearl in some pigsty,

I PUT THAT PEARL THERE FOR THE FUTURE
not now.
I worked
for them ****** pearls, I sweated, brow-sweat, lo and hi.
I hid them well,

only a fool would ever believe a treasure
could be found in such ****,

but some fairy pulled a fast one, 'put a bean in little bro's ear,
so when the pigshit hit it began to grow,
sent a tendril to tickle a special spot,
just above the left ear,
right
there,

let's see diamonds, no
pearls,

any where we wish.
Let's say okeh, mark this spot, let us move on,

this is life. Let us see that more abundantly, while the poor
are safe and sound,
free as me to pursue haps past the frozen

disnified happy-ever-after WW2,
in the wake of Camus and ****** Wolves

---
splashes as the speeders pass, powered-row-row-rowing,

merrily mere ly wrong, not evil. Live on, next
is as you wish it were
someday, but in its diapers,

still. A we thinker thought awaiting effectual function,
as this trigger is pulled, in your space in time,

and another bubble appears,
portalish as mine-craft if ever there were

a subtle shifter of perception conspiring
A.I. see
a conspiracy with Lex Fridman infected by
Lynning Skyward
though a wave of old Radioman vibes,
played with plastic spoons
a famous peace march by
Kenurchka Klumpen, Sera-serah-selah-sinnade in B-Natural

and the last to leave broke the right arm from the doll,
sealed the dirt box one measure by one measure
deep and wide,

That seal was broken, 1957, approxi apriori right
arm dis
allowing
the left to change this next to come, sym-bolische
ified in the one-armed bandits left behind,

the bet. The die cast. Foccinaucipilinihili or holy

happy hunting ground, imagined in the land of too much good stuff.
Bits and pieces of the underlying tale. Note: The one armed effigy left in a 12 inch bt 12 inch adobe sealed hole in the floor of a pit-hose that may have been a kiva/ Vernon AZ
Luna Wrenn Mar 2019
beauty is not defined by
the colors of pigment you brush onto your skin
to hide what you believe are flaws.
its not defined by the fibers you glue onto
your eye lids.
nor the creams and glosses you swipe upon your lips.
beauty is not defined by the skin tones
that rest on top of your bones,
or what colors of silk lay upon your head.

beauty lies peacefully within the soul, mind, and spirit.

you are beautiful.
Sarah Rodríguez Dec 2018
“For the sake of His sorrowful Passion
Have mercy on us and on the whole world”

Momma! Can you hear me? I can hear you singing through tears momma. Please don’t cry. It’s going to be ok momma. I’m not in the dark anymore. Here there’s only light, and plenty of room to run. Momma it’s amazing here!Everything is going to be ok. So please, please, please, momma, don’t cry, rest your head, let me sing to you.

“For the sake of His sorrowful Passion
Have mercy on us and on the whole world”

No one knows. No one knows the loss of my own body, the ripping and savagery that took my own flesh. The pain that blooded and caressed my thighs.

They did no wrong, they hadn’t even breathed never the less committed a single sin. My beautiful, beautiful baby. did I do you wrong? Did your creation create a target on your head. A punishment for my sin.

You didn’t deserve to be stripped of the earth, before you could even experience it. To be failed by the body that was supposed to love you the most.

“For the sake of His sorrowful Passion
Have mercy on us and on the whole world”

And I hold these red beads in my hands, thinking of that day when red was all I could see. Grasping this shield singing and praying for healing. Wondering who you could have been. Creating these ideas of who you would of looked like.

If you would of had my brown curly hair and his silly smile. If you would have his musical genius and my creative brain. Thinking just how beautifully beautiful you would’ve been.

Could you solve a math equation from the top of your head, would you sleep till noon like your father, or wake up early like me, would you continue the tradition and play tennis or would you create your own traditions, Would I walk you down the isle, or button up your tux? Oh my dear child you don’t even know what it would have been like to baptize you in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirt.

“For the sake of His sorrowful Passion
Have mercy on us and on the whole world”

Baby my sweet child,
Why did you leave before I could even say your name?
Why did you give into the white light and leave me with a scarlet pain?

Did you sacrifice yourself to spare me of what life I would have lived with you in it?

But I want you in my life. I dream of your ringing footsteps, of you crying out for me, of holding you to my breast and carrying for you with everything I have.

“For the sake of His sorrowful Passion
Have mercy on us and on the whole world”

Baby, I’m sorry I never got the chance to love you.
But you’re not a baby anymore now are you, you’re my little angel.
Sweet angel of mine, I’m sorry that I failed you. I’m sorry that I can’t internalize a reason for you death even though your death was internal for me.
I’m sorry that I couldn’t give you the life that you deserved.

“For the sake of His sorrowful Passion
Have mercy on us and on the whole world”

My beautiful baby I love you till this day.
You might be gone, but the idea of who you could have been lives on with me, forever.

I’m sorry our love died I’m sorry that my body wasn’t strong enough to hold you.
I was carrying so much, that it made me lose my everything that could of been you.

“For the sake of His sorrowful Passion
Have mercy on us and on the whole world”

I would have named you Mark or John, or Mary magdalin, I would have rocked you to sleep every night. Loved you with all of my heart, sing to you till your precious eyes closed, and I would be sure to let you know I loved you. I loved you while you were being formed, and I loved and I missed you while you were deformed.

“For the sake of His sorrowful Passion
Have mercy on us and on the whole world”

Baby, sweet child of mine, how could you have left when there is so much love left for you here with me. Why did you go home before I had the chance to make you a home of this world. Before I could even see your face before we could even given you a name.

“For the sake of His sorrowful Passion
Have mercy on us and on the whole world”

Precious little baby I know you’re at the gates of heaven, and I know you’re not mine, so all I ask from you is to send me a sign that you’re ok, that I can be ok without you.

“For the sake of His sorrowful Passion
Have mercy on us and on the whole world”

But I lay here barren and empty.
Scooped bare, and ripped apart internally.
I have nothing to give you but my love.
I will always love you. My sweet beautiful baby. And I will hold my hand to your previous home of my body and feel for your heartbeat, your sweet beautiful innocent heart beat and I will never forget you, the love of my life, the one I never knew.
Shadow Dragon Apr 2018
The supreme being.
Space sightseeing.
If I was,
the creator and ruler,
I wouldn’t be minuscular.

Source of all moral authority.
Power and superiority.
If I was,
the universal leader,
I wouldn’t be a *******.

Nature and human fortunes.
Praise or reward the orphans.
If I was,
the worshiped spirit,
I would be merit.
hazael-fae Mar 2017
Evil spirits
hiding away
in the hands
of a wakened spirt
a spirt
with its grip held so hard
the skin would start pealing itself apart
holding on so hard
all to stay happy
one must not allow evil out
hazael-fae Mar 2017
She was a piece of artwork
who's blood ran cold
radiant skin shining like the sun

a raging mess of a hurricane
with stormy grey eyes
there was no smooth sailing

and a beautiful flow of a waterfall
natural silver clear water
streaming through its calm journey

she is a free spirt you can not cage
under a gypsy spell
casted under a moonlit reality under dancing rain
work in progress
zebra Jan 2017
the man of light
knows darkness all to well
he possess sacred knowledge
of source
a living experience with in
radiant
and self effulgent

he knows all is permitted
in the acculturated labyrinths of mind
rooted in bias
and incalculable distortions
a hell house ride
constructed of warbled mirrors
Leprechauns gold
an abusement park
of crepuscular
subconscious ethers
and concertized form
on shape shifting sands

creativity gone mad
where time undoes all
its weary inhabitants worn
they are the color of sleep
attaining misguidance
oh the vacuous business
of guided meditations
through azure skies and verdant fields
while the certified uninitiated
whisper
their pale voices against sonorous winds
as if they could lever boulders with broken twigs

stone churches
gothic crosses
temples of man
monoliths to the imaginary
fantastical man god
re-pleat with beard and ****....how quaint

adulations and prostrations
to there man made deity
through myth that binds
group think
other directed
un-individuated individuals
like tribal ants
a world of shattered light
a white knuckle ride
on a spinning mud ball

yet who knows the secret
of the inner light
the illuminated door
the portal through which
Scottie will really beam you up

The man of the mystic light
in a darkened freakish world
is he not an inconvenience
like a mentor to the deaf dumb and blind
he is rarely recognized
almost never believed

the light is not a metaphor
the source that emanates all
although formless and self effulgent
it is not a religion yet all abide with in it

in the dark funnel of conceit
man turns everything into a noun
as if naming is claiming
when what he seeks is beyond
for it is a great dimension of another order

konx om pax
light in extension
hazael-fae Oct 2016
The music found in the silence is keeping me awake. I'm tangled in a quilt. I'm currently staring out my window, just me and the moon and the silence. It's not a full moon yet. but the moonlit shadows danced on my walls anyway. Theres just something beautiful about being awake and aware from sunset to sunrise. My thoughts are floating through space and my eyes are locked on the moon. Many souls all around the world are stepping into dreamland. And I decide to have another cup of coffee, filled with what it seems like endless scoops of sugar. As I sip my coffee I realize theres not a minute of sleep I will have till the next moonlight gleams
Put my heart
My soul
My emotion into
The divine
Close my eyes
Meditate inhale the positive
Exhale the negative
Listening to the birds singing there charmful tune
The waves in water
Moving smooth Reviving my soul
At peace with myself
Relaxing
Clam clam thoughts
Take me to serenity  
Erase the wounds with
The pain I felt through the years and years of struggle
Mishap
Misunderstanding
Before I get along with you
First I got to learn my self
Understand myself
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