In Love,   I watered it
With care.. I adored it;

This  ten.. by ten,  patch..
just outside, the wire--
at the edge of my fence-line,

daily  I gave  without, tire

There's a country-side
of wild prairiegrass
that lives..  and thrives..
just  beyond my grasp

This grass..  it don't need me
in order to survive..

    And all this time
    I thought  that I was
    keeping it alive

Carefully-planted tufts--
windblown, as I sleep
uproot from this patch
that I prayed
the lord would keep..

And on some distant, hill
across these  natural
waves, of grain
Uprooted..  becomes, naturally
rooted, again--

    Forever,  naturally-watered
    by a Forever-natural,  rain

Maybe, now
I can finally  leave
a world  that has
never, truly needed me

Why  do I  still
so much,  believe?


I believe....

I believe.

The last time you knew me,
I was not
as fond of substances.
when you decided not to know me anymore,
the
    downwards
                       spiral
                                began-
allow me to reintroduce myself:
Hello, my name is unimportant, and my brain is buzzing.

You are all the things
That are wrong with you
It's not the alcohol
Or the drugs
It's you, alright?
It's. You.

They call you judgmental yet frown upon you when you are not exactly like them
They try to pick apart any possible reason for an action you take, a mistake that you make
Then boil it down to their own perfect little answer
Their expectations they hold for others can be grueling with how many hurricanes run through your head, though they claim not to ask for much
To act as if they can see right through you can sometimes be their favorite way to pass time, though  of course they don’t know half of it
The strong vibes of arrogance and judging glances they shoot behind your back are enough to suffocate you, but you choose to hold it together with a smile
Until the weakness returns, where you break down and shake
You try to place words together in your mouth, your poems, in your eyes, your soul, anything.. but the largest part of you screaming out remains silent
To expect to be fully understood by another is foolish  
For their selfishness and their narrow way of thinking are evidently highly prominent
And far too many complications are forever involved
The attempts to silent your mind  unfortunately prove to be futile
A cigarette, one drink after the other take away the gnawing pain that will eternally make its presence known
Moments of happiness turn dark as ash ever so quickly
To laugh at oneself, to lose one’s mind is hauntingly easy enough
In a world where no one truly knows your name.

A hollow shell
Lays amongst stained glass
The only thing thing
Thats seems to enjoy his company

There is a stream
  in our theme,
a  river that flows through us--
that stream is us.

In the stream, whose name is
"All it is that We Are",
there  is a continuity--  
a common ground  
in  everything that the
    stream contains;

    it is ours,
    our substance-- our essence.
    .   .

Place your hand
into your stream
and feel
    who it is that you are,
and know that as you do,
every part    of
what it is that  m o i s t e n s
your arm  

    is that which is of you..
        you are   t a n g i b le.

The stream is yours--
    who.  you.  are.  
ever-flowing, yet tangibly  felt
at any given time.

This stream, also aptly named
"Substance of Being"--    from
beginning to end  contains
    within it
    all of what it is that is yours--

      and yours alone.
      .   .   .    

Jump, beautiful one--
right smack dab  into
the middle of it, and
feel yourself  in its entirety--

        beginning to end,

    yet,
with no beginning that can be seen
and no end.. save the vast sea--  
the  beautiful final destination  
  of all streams.

    .   .   .   .  

  Feel yourself flow in it
  and know it is you--

  bank to bank;
    the stream is you.

Last night,
I dreamed of the red sun
whose rays have fallen
into the centerline
& swayed into a pollen tube
the birth of Hibiscus
Rosa-sinensis

Then, its stigma
swirled into a human heart
& its beat - echoed -
shined through the dark
into a vibrant atmosphere
I could finally see the horizon

it was the beginning...

Asphyxiated
High on sleeping pills,
A human form lies in bed,
Who knows what grief snatched
the bag of life from him,
Now he sleeps like a body
conquered by death,

I knew him once, he was a jolly creature,
the life of party, the dream of every girl,
drank wine like Romeo kissing Juliet,
danced a happy dance which his moving-shaking
limbs professed the inner detention,
But one day, he vanished, making parties lifeless,
girls restless, and Wine heartbroken,
He was amid us but so far,

I wonder about my inaction,
why I never invited him in
when he daily came asking for his room key.

D Vanlandingham

"The only way to deal with an unfree world is to become so
absolutely free that your very existence is an act of rebellion."
~Albert Camus


Manifestations, through metabolization--
there is a shift provided  within
their very act of being,  causing a cost
that none of those who choose to  punish

would choose to pay,

    Yet.. pay, these earth gods will:
    as that is the only world that they know

And to survive, with such a vengeance
as to provide the necessary offset   powerful enough
to bring about the very death   of death, itself

A death, not wanting to die,  but instead
made alive  within the very death
it brings about in the hearts of those  

    who punish the very ones  capable
    of causing its own demise--

A catch-all, catch-22...
a never ending, vicious cycle
the offset  made nearly null and void

    through deception's presentation of the image..
    gunfire in the air, there is a celebration--
    its Wehrmacht-like rallys and assemblies;

                                  social media at its finest.
                                       (selfies, selfies, selfies..)

But the Earth Gods;
they are an insertion in to every bit of this..
     undeceived  
     unwavering

     uncontrollable.