#exodus
Tiny, widdle Aliens in the red, red rain!
Just what you are, Scientists can’t explain!
You go a pitta-patting to the pretty, placid ground,
The weirdest little Creatures for a billion miles around!
Did Jesus make you up in cold, cold Space,
Ten million miles above us in a wild and secret place?
Did you reach our planet on a meteor's rocky side?
A riding rocks is poky but a jazzy way to ride
I’m glad the Cosmos has you!
Such a kooky thing to be!
That our questions aren’t all answered
And our thoughts can frolic free!
You might have tortured Pharaoh several thousand years ago,
When concepts of Human freedoms were not true and were not so.
ET’s and Freedom Seekers might have fought a common foe.
When a crazy Shepherd had a dream to “Let my People go!!!”
Cause a billion wittle Aliens fell and bloodied
Egypt’s ancient seas.
I stand before the Cosmos free to think and live
And worship as I please!
Sep 30, 2025
Sep 30, 2025 at 9:24 AM UTC
You haberdashery hauberk harangue of a hornswoggling hiatus. Your arrogantly delusory blasphemous dementia of odiously ominous diabolically grotesque gives me a decadent distraughtness of desultory debauchery and ghastly gnarly abysmal abjections . It causes hysterical deliriums of maniacally macabre . My swashbuckling surreptitious spatiotemporal telemetry tactician is tacitly inured in a phantasmagoria fantastication of fabulist façade fantasias . I could positively kithe a futurity cudgel phantasm and bonkers bluster boggle with your phrenetically frenzied phrenic and forget my phyletic you preterit rendition autonomy equilibrist .
Jul 27, 2021
Jul 27, 2021 at 11:06 PM UTC
From
neonatal cries to existential rhymes
if
any
lived
to
be
humane
the
earth will elect you
and
the
universe
will accept you
.
Jul 1, 2021
Jul 1, 2021 at 2:16 PM UTC
the yearling roasted on the spit
its drippings crackled the fire
huddled in a smoky closed space
family with a neighbour, or two
bags packed, shoes on, ready to go
the meat carefully carved
its skeleton intact, unbroken
with endives rolled in flatbread
unleavened as we had no time
meal's remains destroyed in the fire
we're ready to leave at any moment
from where we're born and always lived
to a place known only from ancient tales
outside, shrieks and wails, of horror and utter terror
inside, goosebumped, hair standing, we waited, in silence
Mar 21, 2021
Mar 21, 2021 at 9:02 AM UTC
Rapid striking of Copper and Nickel,
Tantalizing both the ear and the heart,
What is it that this hypnotic tune,
That has both the momentum of a freight train and a falling feather,
is trying to tell us?
Realization drops like an anvil upon the egg of a quail
This siren song is calling westward,
O' Hark!
Offering both salvation and damnation,
The Spirit of the West Herself calls,
Rattling one's teeth with her percussive thunder,
Blinding with the flashes of her lightning,
Strobe-like in both aspects,
Prostrate thyself,
For with every booming step she draws closer,
and the music grows louder.
Is that her steps now?
Or the thundering of your heart in your chest?
She whispers upon the howling winds,
Promising nothing that is in your control to change,
Only that her domain is a hard and still wild place.
It is everything you feel the desire in this moment,
An escape from this quicksand you have found yourself in,
Toward the unknown yet the sought after.
What shall happen next,
That is the chapter that we'd have to write,
For good or ill,
A sign or an omen.
Drive Forward!
With a thundering of your own,
With the ground shaking momentum of a thousand charging horses, I say!
Drive forward with a fury of your own making,
Let your purpose be just and true!
DRIVE!!!
...
And like she was never there,
The Spirit of the West disappears,
Her spectral like visage disappearing into the wall,
The vision broken,
Leaving you once again in the quiet and dimly lit room.
Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 4:57 AM UTC
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
Sep 2, 2020
Sep 2, 2020 at 10:25 AM UTC
What are we doing
I don’t even know
Why can’t I
Just let these feelings go
We’ve stayed innocent
But for how long
Next time we’re alone
What if things move along
That’s not what we want
But I don’t know if that’s true
There’s ideas in my head
That want to be pursued
But I can’t give in
There’s too much to lose
So I'm hopelessly in lust
With nothing I can do
Sep 27, 2019
Sep 27, 2019 at 4:46 PM UTC
In years of hunger
we workers on the land
long for a good sign
to return
to a free existence
and it has come
Thunder and darkness
The high lords mock
That is what happens!
They let us go
without cattle, we laugh
in their face and stay
supposedly
We secretly pack
go through the village at night
**** a child in every house
and point with the blood knives
at the gold and silver
as our wage of years
After a quick meal, we leave
a long caravan of wagons and cattle
We make it to the Sea of Reeds
before the army comes and
it starts hailing real stones
Doubters start to moan
Mar 20, 2019
Mar 20, 2019 at 7:33 AM UTC
A day in love is like a thousand years,
With a heart beating but time moves no more.
I know the timelessness of loving you,
Is God-like as in Psalms ninety verse four.
To be in love with you gives me my soul,
Your love is the breath of life from Heaven.
The love my lungs breathe is like the spirit
God breathed in Genesis two verse seven.
Your love shows me mercy, grace, good and truth,
Patience, forgiveness and absence of hate.
It awes me like when God showed Himself in
Exodus thirty-four seven and eight.
The more I love you the simpler it gets,
It’s something I just naturally do.
Love’s forever inscribed in my heart like
Jeremiah thirty-one thirty-two.
Jan 20, 2019
Jan 20, 2019 at 9:45 PM UTC
I knew help was needed
when I laid down my sword
felt like I was dying inside
enslaved by insecurities
abused with lies
I pushed myself to the side
to ride for the wrong one
thought I was meeting HER,
then I ran into you
my hairs gray but you’ve dyed my soul blue
the mad man blows me east to west
The great spirit, My abba,
in my soul, He invests
I’m ending my complaints
learning to play the hand
keeping my eyes upon the sand
-Ashley R Wright (@wisecurls)
Oct 16, 2018
Oct 16, 2018 at 6:03 PM UTC
quest
odyssey
deliverance
doubt
no
fire
14, 21
exodus
my cup overflows
waters
rest.
keep walking
--
Feb 9, 2018
Feb 9, 2018 at 9:59 AM UTC
"Stress is caused by being ‘here’ but wanting to be ‘there’"
that's how a German author defines stress.
I read this quote
and write it down
in that tab I open
secretly at work
to avoid being
seen by my boss.
That tab,
that lives like a refugee,
like everything I like.
Buddha whispers to my ear,
-Attachment is the root of suffering-
with his funny accent
-The richest man is not he who has the most, but he who needs the least.-
I call into question
my arms race
against myself.
That cold war that started years ago
and never ended.
Yahve sets a
bush on fire
on the park
and talks to me.
He talks about
the promised land.
The same land he once promised
to Abraham,
to Isaac,
to Jacob,
to Moises,
to my grandparent,
to my parents.
And I then remember,
I am also a part of this exodus.
-the end justifies the means-
I repeat this to myself,
like a mantra,
trying to convince myself
as I see the parts of me
being left in the path.
The goal blends
into the horizon
like a mirage.
I see how other boys
come closer.
They are younger,
and run faster,
and better.
And I once was
one of those boys,
ready to run for days.
Privileged.
My parents ensure
my path has less rocks
and that my wall
(that wall people who run long distances know)
was lower and softer.
I see the corpses in the path
of the persons who weren't even able to see
the end.
My life is a constant wanting
to reach those lands
while I hate the desert
under my feet.
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 10:43 AM UTC
the day we first met,
you manifested your will
to depart from me.
© Matthew Harlovic
Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 3:39 PM UTC
For every person there is damage.
Damage caused.
Damage seen.
The damaged live and the damaged die.
The damaged save and the damaged hurt.
The damaged forgive and the damaged condemn.
For every damaged person there is a condemned.
Condemned, they are so the damaged can move past them!
"I condemn those on the street so I may walk by".
"I condemn those in their adultery so I might save them."
"I condemn those that hurt me and made me condemn."
"I condemn myself for ever condemning."
So what are we? Surrounded by the ******
For everyone who bares witness to those who affect them.
Who damage them.
And those who condemn themselves for damaging.
All are guilty.
And with that, chaos.
To fight the ocean of the condemned is as simple as condemning.
Only through condemning can we ever forgive.
Only through forgiving ourselves can we hurt again.
Only through forgiving ourselves can we save our soul.
Which one will you choose.
I'm still on the fence.
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 2:54 AM UTC
A beginning of a text
A begging sloppy test
Living dreams of lost
In sunken messy world
Who will take us there?
The other side of the wall
A place of open hearts
Unstirred and unstitched
The 'Jezebels' stare at us
Peeking, itching the peaks
As we lose they triumph
As we touch "ours", a pull
The exile dwelling tiresome
Sweaty drools, hunger pangs
Spotted blood stains rules
We crawl from the beauty
Where is the bounty Nile?
A plentiful stock of nutriment
Hand in hand, a moonlight dance
Joyous basket to hold and nourish
Mar 25, 2016
Mar 25, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
You’d think she really was
Mud sticking and stiffening to the Loud Lady’s toes,
And her sigh sticks in mine.
Don’t let them do this to me and I didn’t
But I did. God’s great pillar carried us west.
They dragged her like a fog.
The men who cried **** spit and grinned
and the smoke grew sorrowed with girth.
How I long to breathe in Black Hill breath
to drown in the Belle Fourche
and swallow the palest Crook ashes that float,
Chewing the body that I left and let-
But there is no redemption in the tops of towers.
No spiral of justice. No figment
of grace in these sooty species.
No Bear Lodge witches that the Loud Lady cried
So surely that
You’d think she really was
Dec 10, 2014
Dec 10, 2014 at 1:57 PM UTC
Quick! The seasons are changing.
Grab your belongings, and put them
all behind your back.
Quick! The sky is waking up.
You must hurry, my darling,
for it will catch you before you even set foot,
on the freshly fallen dew.
Quick! The flowers are blooming.
Here is a rose, to remind you of me,
when you are melancholy.
Quick! The sun has risen.
Go now, my darling,
and never look back.
Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 10:40 PM UTC
Ten remain hidden, two thousand years lost.
Two struck down by bullet, gas, and flame; the ghetto stage one.
Six million perished before the world ended this crooked crime
Remanent of those lost rose like the cedar in Lebanon, Ezekiel knew best
Twas God who gave men courage; they fought such tyranny, such hate
Twelve mourned for a season while two given back old land
North and south, east, west flock to come home, a great exodus at hand
Two now settled, secure where they stay; diligently searching for those...
Ten remain hidden, two thousand years lost.
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 12:48 AM UTC
Passover Moon's
****** hue
eclipses
the ordinary
in veils of
miraculousness
obscure
rouge
halos
illume
elliptical arcs
guiding
footsteps in
a righteous
exodus
across
troubling
waters
forsaking
hovels
with
painted
doorjambs
dripping
lambs blood
Mezuzahs
bleat
memories
holy
murmurs
bespeaking
lamentations
of ancient
hosannas
our
desperate
supplications
flesh out a
distressed
humanity
seeking
deliverance
from the
vengeance
is mine
Elohim
may it
be nigh
we wait
watching for
an always faithful
Good Deliverer
to honor the
covenant
to lift
despair
with a
liberating
yoke
lugging
leaden
burdens
Oh Holy
of
Holies
banished
in the wisp
of a bitter herb
our
distended
bellies
fill with
unleavened
grace
sweet
droplets
of manna
consumed
with extreme
gratitude
arriving
at journeys
end to
promised
lands
fully
satiated
and free
to rest in
sanctuaries
of radical
hospitality
luxuriating
in an infinite
abundance
for all
sojourners
Selah
Music Selection:
Big Mama Thornton
Go Down Moses
Oakland
4/15/14
jbm
Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 5:15 PM UTC