#giftedness
#
*It is me tonight
that will need
to find release
through ******
Find a quiet place
on the edge of
your bed
and join me*
#
Mar 26, 2024
Mar 26, 2024 at 10:24 PM UTC
#
*You need the kind of real that in its utter realness..
becomes a living form of fantasy
Something so real that it spells out the word*
"Unreal"
*in everything that it does and says..
A reality that is in perpetuality,
a forever-living fantasy
There is a condition of the heart, mind and spirit,
that is truly able to do that.
Nothing is lost within the process;
And everything there ever was within it..
becomes its own beautiful form of Gain*
#
Jan 27, 2024
Jan 27, 2024 at 7:43 PM UTC
#
"They've outlawed it, you know.."
"Outlawed what, Sweetie"
***"The Unknowable--
that which cannot be defined
or easily explained away..
That which cannot reduced, down
in to something more palatable;
Or maybe diluted-down
in to that which one could drink
..without it bringing some form
of dis- comfort"***
She is looking down;
Woven into her hair.. all things
edelweiss, suddenly begin
their wilt
..and all along the waterway
are those coming towards her
to smother
.
You will hold on, my Beautiful
*(or maybe even turn to face
for the first time, with loaded gun)*
--But Beautiful girl was never meant
to go loaded
*(..And her beloved Rooster Cogburn said
that she's no bigger than a corn nubbin)*
My beautiful girl
locks and loads, anyways--
Because the Mason-jars
she was forced to pour it all in to,
were never made big enough
to contain it.
There's a small stall at the swap-meet..
on Thursday and Saturday mornings,
she rents a space there
Her wares, true liquid Gold..
*(when a jar becomes sold
no hidden-thing will be needed
to sustain it)*
. . . . .
Quiet hearts are never meant
to reveal themselves
Some words (in this world)
were never meant to be spoken
You'll see now, beautiful Angel--
that this Rare-Jeweled heart of yours
is not the only-one,
perpetually Broken
Some gifts, the world
may never be ready for.
Lip-Kissed,
may I be the one
to help get that
un-ready World, ready--
*(so very well fed
yet still;
so very slowly, burning)*
Some beautiful Heartbeats
are so very much worth dying for
***... And I, myself ;
I am turning..***
#
Sep 27, 2023
Sep 27, 2023 at 2:17 PM UTC
#
You see, kid..
(it's like this) :
With every door, closed
another one previously unseen
opens up fully..
The moment I lift you
and press you up
hard, against that of the last
..Call it,
"A little Mommy and Daddy time"
once the children of the world
have fallen peacefully asleep..
In fact, Love.. call it anything
you want
There is a price to pay
for a life of Courage..
In as much as there is
a Payment to be received
that may.. (or may not yet)
have been received.
Consider also, Love.. the cost,
as to how utterly Incredible
(it is going to be.. to be able to feel)
What it is like
to Truly become Paid in Full
#
Aug 10, 2023
Aug 10, 2023 at 6:24 PM UTC
#
*Cloud-scraped and smoldering..
(Scepters have handles,
not every hand can fit)
Dream-scenes, on fleshscreens
by far, burn the brightest..
But;
Panty-lines in quartertimes
best accentuate--
Those wine-goblet, ****
(My head is spinning;
hellbent, on sinning..)*
. . . .
*Evil Impulse, brings me close
(you have a gift, my Love)
Rise above, Paul..
Rise above
Rise above
Rise above
Rise above
Rise above.*
#
Aug 8, 2023
Aug 8, 2023 at 5:24 PM UTC
#
A fine mist filled the room
the moment she began singing
Covering my presence;
concealing all that is congenital
in me
*--and the years and years and years
of my family-laid, dysfunction..
Of the harm, inherent in me
Of the damage to her Beautiful-Everything
I can do..
(Things are not OK
when my war-torn D N A
comes into play.) .....
I open the door and walk into the room.
Small fingers slowly sliding off of keys
as her glowing face falls,
now turns ashen*
An instant, Ichabod-like undoing
turning Steam, into stone..
*And still I reach for her;
the thin fabric of her dress
the only barrier between us--
..keeping the oils of our skin
from blending together
(the angel closes her eyes..
as the Glory that was hers
is now hiding in the corner
of the room)
I am weeping now--
This beautiful Lovedream..
This one perfect chance
since the day I was born;
For my deeply-protected spirit
to intertwine with that
of another..
Over the keyboards I reach
as I press myself to her..*
there is a danger here..
*--as much for her
as there is for me.*
Through the tremble,
I am so incredibly
uncertain
*Yet still I gaze at her--
consumed, by Spirit-crave.....
(Small hands slowly
reach around me..
Those beautiful orbs, for eyes
staring, so intently--
..A cherub-like face
around me, peering..
--Those eyes now closing
As gifted fingers on keys
bring forth the most perfect
tune.)*
And suddenly
a whole world, treacherous
becomes immediately safe.
#
Jan 3, 2023
Jan 3, 2023 at 12:39 PM UTC
#*.. not to be so mad at me
for wanting you out of there,
or with me
where I can best do you the most good.
Your Glory was never meant
to have to hide in the shadows..
nor was it ever meant
to suffocate
beneath the blanket of indifference.
You were meant to shine, beautiful girl--
and you will..
Your brother wants you to
I want you to
Those who are broken.. who
most need you to.. do.
You will, beautiful girl
I promise you.. you will.*
xoxo
#
Dec 14, 2022
Dec 14, 2022 at 12:38 AM UTC
#
All of those people around you, hoping just for a glimpse of
something from the mental health care world
that could give them even just one reason to stay
.. And all around you they are dying
while you cater to your own, vain emptiness.
Credentialed now, everyone loves you.
And still all around you,
the ones you were meant to be here for, die.
**** your fake humility, oh empty one.
**** your fake friends, and self-serving peers.
**** your self centered, empty-souled vanity.
All around you, they are dying.
And will continue to die.
You were the one.
One behalf of all the fallen..
and those who sadly will one day all alone, fall.
On behalf of them all:
F U C K Y O U.
#
Nov 3, 2022
Nov 3, 2022 at 10:55 PM UTC
#*Heading up into
the unspoken-- a
spirit, as of yet
unbroken;
she needs to be there.
Undefined; undisclosed
with no-thing presupposed
I bring my I
(she says)
fly, said her
I...
and into the
sky
she did fly--
fully-clothed
yet, sacred-robed
she was going somewhere
as of yet
un-probed.
Is there any way to dress
for a place like that?
And when you get there
would it matter anyways?
Back down to the ground;
white tank top and panties-on--
perfect.
God-ordained but
no one 'splained
the effect this smokin-view
would have on me--
heh,
And she brought that
Love-scent
back down with her
from the N e x t p l a c e
.. and Im as high
as a man can be.*
#
Oct 26, 2019
Oct 26, 2019 at 12:26 AM UTC
#They don't exist yet, you know--
the words' Babe.. the words..
At least.. not here on Earth yet,
they don't.
They are hurting--
the broken-ones
that you love so deeply
And the ones
such as yourself-- chosen
to bring them the Message,
are broken too.
In fact, it is within your brokenness
that pieces of the Message
are made perfect--
You
who were so unjustly treated
at such a tender young age..
You have Chris's presence
and Chester's, fragmented heart
You.. who are the New-Light's flame..
Sent down.. for us,
to overcome
this ****** up, Death-sting.
.
Within you,
will be the New Unfolding
And from you, will come
the words Chester and Chris only knew,
on the other side
of their devastating choice.
#
Feb 19, 2022
Feb 19, 2022 at 10:53 PM UTC
#Don't you understand?
--The back-pasture fences, lay down
Opening up to more back-pasture, grasses
u n c o n t a in e d,
by fences, laid down..
only to be surrounded in the distance
by more, back-pasture grasses..
And yes.. my beautiful Beloved--
with its fences also, laid down
You are a Thoroughbred, love.
Within your gorgeous succulence
lies the open-field,
of beautifully-unending grasses,
succulent.
#
Feb 3, 2022
Feb 3, 2022 at 5:20 PM UTC
#sweet lord, girl..
I like the way your brain moves its thoughts into its own deeper
realms with each thing said. You have that rare gift of being able to
be your own internal/external Muse.. even while midstream within
the process of writing it all out.
Alone.. maybe more than you may think you want to be, you are
never lonely. A very rare thing indeed in the modern world, kid.
Very unique, and very very special.
(It is very much the truth..)
I would always hope for the gifted ones such as yourself, that you
would always and ever-increasingly be able to see your own
worthiness in yourself in being chosen to be a bearer of such a
wonderful gift. Kierkegaard was a chosen recipient such as you
(your rare mind's unfolding thought processes are in ways, much
like his), and through his own beautiful self-love, became.. through
his stewardship of the gift, the father of Existentialism. He felt the
Living Word within him, causing his wonderous mind to feel also,
through thought.. which in turn, churned deeply his
forever-goldmining heart, which in turn, mused his mind into deeper processings of the deeply-felt word's expressions--
ever-cycling.. ever churning within him, until every cell within his
electrified body became fully lit..
And out onto paper it all went.. as what was so beautifully
self-Mused within him was brought out from an internally-lit
darkness and into the full light of day. The deeply-searching, in you
is in relationship with the gifted Magical in you,
(which is also so very much you [the gifts are irrevocable]),
bringing out words and concepts/thought processes pretty much
previously unknown here in this world. Make your own self-Love..
self forgiveness.. self-acceptance, and self understanding.. all your Art..
And it will be your art that most blesses this world down here.
You've already got the goods, kid.. watch them become greatly
clarified in you as your own self-Love becomes your own finest art.
The gift, you already have-- clear as clear can be. Shame and
condemnation are powerful enough down here to make even the
most purest of pure, become obscure.
Mm.
Yeah, kid..
*"In the end..
The Love you take (in)
Is equal to
The Love, you make"*
Make your own self love, your goal-- surround yourself with
loving truthtellers who will love you for who you truly are.. rather
than what they want you to be (or think you should be) for them.
Clearly you are worth every single bit of it all.
~Paul
*(preston
M Vogel
F Unting Somethingoranother)*
#
Jan 28, 2022
Jan 28, 2022 at 9:38 PM UTC
#
*That which is of the heart, capable
of making its stand in the world
calling "good", that which it sees as good..
and then bleeding from the inside
on its behalf;
This beautiful Art..
This magnificent creature
This one who is capable
of raising from the dead
That, which has fallen:
In to despair
In to the Blackness of the pit--
An un-supported suffering
An Un-loved, grieving
A fallen-one
falling between the cracks
--Until, with a Kiss
and a hand-chosen
prairieflower, gifted--
Bringing, back to life
all things.. once, dead
in the heart of a little boy
in the heart of a little boy..*
#
Oct 3, 2021
Oct 3, 2021 at 3:07 PM UTC
#
You are blessed by God
and that blessedness
leaves me breathless;
But.....
aw.. **** love..
The shame didn't come from me
and neither did the all-consuming condemnation..
*yet my direct words to you make you feel
as though I am the author of both*
Love, infused with truth
is a language all its own
but you can't do it.. can you
You are wholly unable to see yourself
as someone truly Loveworthy
You can't see it,
and so it is my words to you
that you attack
and then run from
and then run to
and then fall in love with
*And then you rage
and then you hide
as it churns*
***as it churns
as it churns***
And you think its from me
And you think I am the author of both
*But it was i n y o u before we ever met
and because of that, I lose everything*..
because I won't stop doing
what it is that I do.
*Love is different
than what it sometimes feels to you*
#
Sep 22, 2021
Sep 22, 2021 at 9:08 PM UTC
#
*This place. I don't know.
so many people / want to block..
their words--
they climb all over me.
one's in particular:
Heart-expressed words bringing down
the healing light of relationship to the parts of me
who up until now
have known little or no relationship of its kind;
and there is conflict within me as I fight it..
years the locusts have eaten; and the opportunity of restoration;
often squandered. in vanity.
none of that mattered much;
until now--
When the unredeemed heart-parts of myself
reveal to me their dormancy: left detached
from community with one another--
an internal community necessary
to withstand the brilliant light and glory
brought down by those here who write as she does.
but she;
through her unfiltered heart-writes
brings down the very magic and beauty and fullness of the
relational dance of the godhead.
And it's raw beauty is ****** slayin me.
I so want to block her for the conflict she creates in me
.
but I will press on
and allow her supremely-smithed words--
(words not even written to me)
to have their beautiful way,
in
and through..
the help that has been all around me;
(each and every one of us)
waiting...
all along
**--as if they were cleaning my soul,
re-integrating my fragmented, heart-parts.***
#
Apr 11, 2021
Apr 11, 2021 at 8:21 PM UTC
#
*As it is brought towards completion
the boat, through my interaction
with it, out on the lake
will then make possible the access
to fish that I, up till now
have only dreamt of
The fish are the fire.. descended
down from the heavenlies--
made available solely
through the fineries.. restored
back in to wholeness in part
through the value I first saw in it
when in its primitive, used and
unfairly treated and uncared for, form..
But it was the deep love for that form
that helped give the vessel its access
back into the restoration of its
own, true glory..
And now, all alone--
out on the lake with it
it brings me access in to
places and magical depths until now
only thought of and dreamt about
as that which exists only, in heaven..
It is the vessel's motor, now fully restored
that brings the boat and I together
out on to the lake
but it is the boat's very uniqueness
within it's own natural state of beauty
that helps to give me access into the magic
that lay currently undisturbed
deep in that glorious lake's depths
The boat has always carried within it
the rarest of gifts
and somewhere buried in my deep
love for it.. those gifts, while out on
the lake with it, will make themselves known
to me as we together find those fish
that so beautifully represent, this..
the Holiest of all fires.
Those trophy fish are the magical moments
that up until now, lay dormant,
swimming far away from current distractions
of the every day, mundane
accessible only through the restorative process
and one's love of it's rare and magical beauty
It sometimes feels as if all of heaven is
waiting. (I know I am insane to talk this way..)
I truly do love that boat.
When I am out on the lake with it,
every difficult moment will be so very
worth it all to me. That is the joy I get
from the giving of myself into it's
much needed and fully deserved, restoration.
. . . .
You will not sit out there,
so all alone--
weathering, out there somewhere
in the corner of the shipyard. If that is
the case, and that is your current fear..
I know that you will find a way to
make yourself find-able by me. The
greatest tragedy of all would be for a
vessel of your unique and rare beauty,
to die off all alone--
unloved..
scuttled, by the wind.
The energy that was meant for you is
now, going into the boat.
--tho I can certainly do both.*
#
Apr 8, 2021
Apr 8, 2021 at 3:26 PM UTC
#Selmhem Naise
(02/2016)
I was so much older than you, but not enough to where
we couldn't be in the same school at the same time.
I watched you grow up throughout the years,
and you attracted my attention in a way
that I have yet to find words to describe.
The first time I saw you, you were with your friends
stopping in the park on the way to school-
swinging on the swings, even though you had
long outgrown that stage. It didn't matter to you
because at home you still had Barbie dolls that
you played with. You didn't care what people thought,
you just did what you did because it made sense to you.
As you got older, so did I and I grew in stature, yet
would still look towards you where you were at, four
grades younger than me. I was tall, muscular, tanned,
long blonde surfer hair. You were a freshman and always
hung around with that messy looking nerdy-type kid
who had tape on the edge of his goofy looking horn rim
glasses. An upper class **** started ridiculing him,
and you jumped up off the bench and literally climbed
up on his back and started punching him in the head
as he was spinning to try to grab you off of him.
I was close enough to run to the commotion, and told him
that if he laid a hand on you I was going to knock him cold.
Do you remember me grabbing hold of you
and lifting you off his back and setting your feet
back on the ground?
I looked you right in the eyes..
and it was at that moment that you saw
what I had carried of you for so long.
You were still just a little girl at heart and in body.
The end of that year I graduated and moved away.
I went on to marriage and family, work stuff.. everyday things.
When much of that crumbled, I found myself here;
and there you were again..
*I have loved you for nearly all your life, little scrapper
it has been well worth the wait.*
#
Jan 20, 2021
Jan 20, 2021 at 7:45 PM UTC
A heart
that just wants
to be what it is..
without edit needed,
to avoid punishment
or worse yet,
counterfeit imitation
So why not we
stoke up
the gaslight flame
and color it all, empty
or count it all
to that of self gain
nullifying the good
down to that of
everyday, commonplace
or that of an every day
self-centeredness..
making
every single bit of this,
un-fixable
Jan 11, 2021
Jan 11, 2021 at 10:09 AM UTC
#PaulSN
She clutches her heart
with both hands
in hopes that he will not see it;
*(But hearts like hers--
they cannot be held back; and
who it is that she is cannot be hidden),*
but it instead was built to be out there--
right out into the light of day.
Her fingers look so cute as they
work so hard to hold the view of her in--
she oozes out between fingers
in the most beautiful of ways.
And with a heart like hers--
*even that which tries to contain it
becomes beautiful--*
she seeps out
through the most beautiful of fingers.
#
Nov 11, 2020
Nov 11, 2020 at 11:47 PM UTC