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Orakhal Oct 17
a truth in tune
knocks everything that isn't out
Orakhal Sep 5
From the great dust bowl of infinity, birth sat ready on the lip of time,
no not I , until the grill of sun made its home in the chesty melt of crystal dust come hither from the rip of a burning blue azzure,torn thru the fabric of universal skin I bled my bounty dry and pressed my eye to the moons harrow , face frozen to the light of mystical embrace, beatified to the pallet of eternal bleed upon the gallop of thought chasing memory to the seed, stood foreign on the freeway of emotion
Orakhal Sep 2
The Stir of the Cat

Start here, be and don’t move a morsel muscle, as the paradox reality intertwines the tussle in the backlash of a centre fold be bust by natures kindle thru the nasal vine upended on the bruised subtle fracture of a distant muse ascended , before the young scoff of a gene crafted blood to the brawl on the top end street, the lamp  lit doorways poised and ready for deceit, letterheads frattled and tapped to the foot of post modern magnetism as the diamonds cut and rush be siphened off  into the physical pivotal of jovial concession, mothers sons and fathers daughters tending to confessional  pretending hope to land its place in life’s allure and lapping grace a ***** ***** grab and sickle to the handle with out care , a crushing on the temple door made fickle in despair, into the land of crisses crosses oer the holy ground , on to the seat beset to throttle praise and  duty bound as naval buttons cut  the cordial  make into believe, till redeemer redeems of its brat and re-buttle relieved of its cervical hat, the raven retires to all that is subtle, be no grounds for divorce in the stir of the cat
Orakhal Sep 2
Hope and fear lie sizzling in the hand of a kind dry light sun drenched to the fire of silken sand, the naked voices of ones be heard on the bereaved winch of wind as the niche neglect pitch nuts and bolts to the ****** of grace, filled to the pinch and quench on a human oasis, the stiff of heat slaps the face of the souls cry to the deep sweep of dust and swine smell a sway on the principle of a turning tide, oer the eye of the opal queens velvet cress of sleep sipping her lips to the sweet serene atmospheric, tumbling toward xtasy on the tender rich faint silent hum arrested to the ***** of elemental bliss
Orakhal Sep 2
We last as ever
again we come
for we never leave the earthly hum
the dance thru amber gold and blue
keeps shaping life inside of hue
Orakhal Aug 22
You will find that you can never lose
when you stop looking for that you never  lost
Orakhal Aug 7
Life knows something you don't
and its telling you

as you stop knowing something life does'nt
Orakhal Aug 5
Life appears in form
because you tell it to

it really isn't there otherwise
All bes mental Creating
Power thru Projector Projecting
Paint thru painter to painting

Each one has a vibe rate signature
calling forth to it all physical manifestations

no one creates for another
one sees only that they put in their eye
not that others put there
Orakhal Aug 4
bes a wider vision

not a more of it

one cant force more to a full glass
one can transfer content to a larger vessel
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