The beauty of
purity in ivory wings.
That which
an angel takes
leisure time,
bathing in empyrean
felicity.... Oh,
the coolness of a spirit,
is home sweet home.

(INCREDIBLE INK- TEAM JAGUAR HAWAII)
© Copyright 2014 S.T. PARISH Rebel of Eden

She called me,
the King of her heart,
a Jack Rabbit,
Seneca of a legion
The angel of mercy with wings
propelling love letters from its bow
sharp like the Red Jacket in her chest
The ace in her heart and she
died many times before
casted aside
I'm the message in a bottle
to be found ashore...
a lost psalm

And although the tare of her brittle
hope to believe
that an angel of mercy
could enlighten her of this scar,
I'll be shooting aerrows to knees
collecting feathers in my palms
Killing soft melodies
Good or bad deeds
Perceptions of a woman
are no excuses.
No mercy for a man.

(INCREDIBLE INK- TEAM JAGUAR HAWAII)
© Copyright 2014 S.T. PARISH Rebel of Eden

Earth is sleep in sound tonight
Yet in the eyes of stars well up oceans of sadness
The streets are filled with undenying yern to live
The smells of blood courses the air
In the young and old
Not a silent completion
Not a singal comfort in a drink nor a shot of ****** to behave lively
Only death awaits in alleys
Darkness falls in dead end roads
The earth is sound in sleep tonight
It tells stories of humen nature changing and exchanging gifts for the weak
No child lay still in thier beds
No mothers arms are full but empty with weary heartbreaks
Fathers cry in rage of self pitty and drive to another rage to prison bars
No glory here In the sound of night
No hope nor will to dream but to **** the sun
And all that is left are the stars that shed little light
Still not giving up on these children who cry in the night.

© Copyright 2013 S.T. PARISH Rebel of Eden
Unauthorized copying is prohibited.

Sundays come 
and my thoughts run randonmly
they are strong and deep
but I pray for my spirit to push me

I frequently faulter far from my soul
and I can barely stand still
when I walk I keep falling deeper
in an endless hole

I am affraid of my mind
intimidated by my loose cannon
there is nothing holy here
no wing I spread nor a smile to find

I sit now without a push behind me
I can't seem to walk in his house
knowing my faith is down
screaming coast to coast for harmony

I have a want to break this curse
while the world is turning
and loving and living is on going
There will always be another burning verse.

(INCREDIBLE INK- TEAM JAGUAR HAWAII!!)
© Copyright 2014 S.T. PARISH Rebel of Eden.

I am deluged with words
With diluvial figurative curves.
I see how a king can pass through
The guts of a beggar:
I don't need to be a melancholy Prince
To understand the string theory
When a worm gets stretched
From ground to beak,
Or the night sky becomes a crossword
Puzzle.
Lakes are pools of tears;
Clouds are bandaids covering
Bleeding dimensions.
The earth is a five ball
Caromming through the green felt universe.
Does anything seem as it once seemed?
I have voices conversing
In figures of speech.
Should I be tied to a stake,
Or,
Heard as a soothsayer.
There,
See what I mean?

the challenge is to be surefooted
steps soft and light weaving
through the house as it resists
my every move
to stop and kiss innocent cheeks
make sure the bodies are still warm
prepare the same rituals
of hot coffee and cold juice
while the dogs wait patiently
for fresh air, water
they exist only for my care
and hurried touch
this day like any other
you are here as well
asleep in the back room
i know this as certain as i know
the path i need to take
towards my favorite chair
also waiting for me
to take pen to paper
in the near light
in the almost day
the challenge is to create a life story
strangers want to read