#solomon
From Biloxi white shirt
Mississippi cigar
Smoke had led to West Coast
To Pacific Coast Mountains
They had tracked me as prey
As the northern cougars
Ain’t vampire, thank God
Neither light in the fountains
That was time I, in deed
Meditated between
Between living in need
And minimal luxury
After island, Vancouver
I moved north to Vermont
Talked with posters and walls
Living on nineteenth floor
Then I glanced outside –
Letter S, not for snake
Even though, serpent’s bitten
I just knew it was name
Great red letter as sign
So, I took as mine
‘Cause from day to a day
I had prayed for the guide
Thus, from window I saw –
Letter S – Solomon
Then the past I recalled
And the streets I came from
And the view…
It was just Holosijiv
Yes, for window I saw –
Letter S – Solomon
Then the past I recalled
And I put my heart home
I just need myself clean
Before go back to Kyiv
From that window I saw –
Letter S – Solomon
Give me answers, my soul
Do I need Royal Mont?
I need all of them clear
Heart, mind, soul – all sincere
Nov 7, 2025
Nov 7, 2025 at 5:00 PM UTC
Twenty-four elders ,
seven chakra spirits ,
four beasts , now
the origins of carnal desire
and the Lake , of Glass .
☆
The Key of David ,
controlled by spirit ,
is in the temple
of the pineal gland
and in union with holy
secret .
☆
Subordinate to God's will ,
for thyne is the kingdom ,
thyroid and throat chakra --
the flaming sacred heart ,
triumphant in time and
tribulation .
☆
The Witness and his
golden sword of fire ,
the Seat of the Soul
attacked and defended
from evil .
To Virtue , the final victory
is delivered ,
true love and the Seeds of
the Cosmos .
Oct 6, 2024
Oct 6, 2024 at 7:56 PM UTC
w -e may notice why the
first letter of some
title sometimes might
be a little one
R -earrangeable once
we set the capslock
botton and make it
capitalize
i -used backspace
eventually for me to
change and delete it at
the same time
S -erenade peeking at a
maiden played by
young singer deeply So
in Love
T -hey press and hold
shift key in their left
and right just to
control dull moments
in long lonely night
© Easter Sunday
March 31 2024
11:20 a.m.
Mar 30, 2024
Mar 30, 2024 at 11:20 PM UTC
Worthless, worthless, says the preacher
Self-important, self-taught teacher
Worthless, worthless, says the buyer
Yet your price was never higher
You get it cheap, and start to boast
And then leave nothing for the host
But emperors are like their clothes
Their what and whether no-one knows
You take their treasure in your hand
And feel your fist is full of sand
You search for some security
See things become, but never be
Why seek to run a perfect race,
If past the sun is only space?
Would you rather face the end?
Or live to chase the wind?
Apr 2, 2022
Apr 2, 2022 at 1:06 AM UTC
The face of Earth is for no one
King Solomon or the great
Alexander the believers.
Nor for disbeliever
Nebuchadnezzar.
Hell or Paradise neither
is on the face of Earth.
What lives is in the heart!
Aug 16, 2021
Aug 16, 2021 at 11:32 AM UTC
Saying Grace
The day roped in happiness
like tidal waters
streaked with seaweed,
joyous to be afloat again.
The rocky inlet imbued
a stony demeanour, while
calmly contemplating
the resounding consonants
of a cavern within.
I could hear it swish syllables
as it lapped in the waves,
and I now channel
in gratitude,
that exuberant overflow,
and this,
which needs no rationale.
As we sit at a table,
enjoying a meal
cobbled together
from the sweet of corn,
the crunch of lettuce,
the ocean yield
of Piscean gleam,
it has begun to look
like Eden on a plate,
and I allow myself
to feel touched.
I am touched.
Gratitude is a verb
when I feel thankful
for being able to share
in the sacrificial generosity
of plants and animals.
Do we feel blessed?
We must,
for what could be sweeter
than that
we haven't been refused
- a share
of the Universal largesse.
From this bounty,
we take as we may,
so we simply survive
to another day.
It is wonderful to be alive
and I am grateful.
We are grateful.
Aug 7, 2021
Aug 7, 2021 at 10:51 AM UTC
She's risen coarse on rusted tracks,
through sandy loam, a summer sheen.
Rainbows are but colour barracks,
fair violet, through verdant green.
Through sandy loam, a summer sheen
sparked exile of Fall's fleeting mist.
Fair violet, through verdant green,
adds tint to sun in pigment grist.
Exile sparked in Fall's fleeting mist,
cleared light, silky ivory.
Adds tint to sun in pigment grist,
silhouette of this noble tree.
Cleared light, silky ivory
are petals cast in modest mould.
Silhouette of this noble tree,
tattered leaves, raging wind unfold.
Petals cast in a modest mould
are magi of summer solstice.
Tattered leaves, raging wind unfold
simply envy of breezy fleece.
Magi of the summer solstice,
Purple blush on sun dipped petals.
Raging envy of breezy fleece,
Scalding wind that scarcely settles.
Purple blush on sun dipped petals
Rainbows are but colour barracks.
Scalding wind that scarcely settles,
she rises coarse on rusted tracks.
Jun 6, 2021
Jun 6, 2021 at 3:47 PM UTC
Whispers I sent out to dawn latched
on to the solitary sun to trail
the arc of a common time
in a sky the hue of gold in grass.
The land leans on the baobab
in a dust storm of wheels and lenses.
Wheels and lenses.
When the dust settles, I will dust
my shuka and the goats will return
home, to comfort my eyes that flow
the spate of the Great Ruaha,
seeping secretly into the baobab
I have chores to do, a shuka to ****
A shuka to ****
Will they buy the beads I strung
as I rocked Naeku on my back,
to make circles of day and circles
of night, as wide as the baobab,
in the colour of clouds, the colour of sky.
There's colour to stars in a darkened night.
A darkened night.
Killeleshua is fragrant in thousand leaves
Am I not worth more than thirteen Zebu?
The watering hole was flecked in hippos
and the firewood is the colour of dusk
abundantly generous as the baobab
Time, a viscous passing of the sweetest honey.
The sweetest honey.
Apr 22, 2021
Apr 22, 2021 at 11:35 AM UTC
And the knowledge of the hedgerow plant, I found embedded in leaf veins ... like in mine, etched along blue lines of a notebook. In the ripples on the remnants of water that pooled, before the mudflats claimed them are the striations of ol'butot near Naivasha. His stories tell of caves, a gleaming obsidian of a pre historic introspection. Do forty day fasts suffice to exorcise the springs of sulphur or the forced baptism of a flash flood washing six souls to Hades ? The sun glinted at me through a narrowness of fate, a gorge of interminable seconds and I marvelled at the strata of time in a warp, for it blurted out a moan.
Love spoke in nuanced layers of molten flow that crawled to stillness. Can I not say that stone speaks? A couple of hundred years back in time, self titled discoverers had seen land that had not been unseen by the thousands who lived for thousands until then. So yes, the strata spoke to me, like the striations in the leaves and the lines that were everywhere telling stories of interminable seconds. Time grooves like a death valley in an engraving, etched like a memory of that which has never been, ripples on sand, circles on water,
Apr 12, 2021
Apr 12, 2021 at 10:49 AM UTC
#All is vanity.
(Easy for the king to say
Between concubines . . .)
Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 9:50 AM UTC
...is a purple curtain
behind this curtain
is your flesh
behind your flesh
is your ego
behind your ego is the real you
we've been on a journey
like grandpa and grandmom
take me away
take me to the place of the real you
Dec 4, 2019
Dec 4, 2019 at 4:08 PM UTC
The toils of my hands,
The marks of my work,
I’m meant to find pleasure in these
Solomon’s words,
Gentle and stern,
Have genuinly provoked me
Mar 21, 2018
Mar 21, 2018 at 6:28 PM UTC
I passed a small boy named Solomon Woods
deep in thought with a book
He licked a finger, turned a page
too engrossed to give me a look
I met a young lad named Solomon Woods
humming a gentle tune
He smiled and waved, shook my hand
and wished me a good afternoon
I danced with a friend named Solomon Woods
while he sang me one of his songs
What he lacked in skill he offset with zeal
and insisted I sang along
I sat with a man named Solomon Woods
glad of his still, gentle manner
His reliable smile and kind wise words
drowned out the usual clamour
I walked with a gent named Solomon Woods
glad of his confident stride
I knew for sure he faced the world
trusting God as his strength and guide
If you meet a man named Solomon Woods
he'll certainly stop for a while
If you have the time, he'll sing you a song
and leave you with a smile
Jan 28, 2018
Jan 28, 2018 at 4:39 PM UTC
Solomon smiled,
chanced a stretch and blew
the obligatory bubble
to the captive audience.
Solomon smiled
and formed his first proverb
of the day
concerning the foolishness
of worrying about anything.
Solomon smiled,
and after some deep,
wet-fingered thoughts
concluded that both love
and money
are best held on an open hand.
Solomon smiled,
and nodded along to songs
that he'd someday pen,
content for now to test his grip
on an offered finger.
Solomon smiled,
and settled into the joy of a hug,
in the warmth of a cuddle
and promised to anyone listening
that he'd live in the moment,
so long as it was a moment
such as this.
Father God smiled,
endorsed every thought,
every word
and promised Solomon
more of the same.
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 7:53 AM UTC
Two Maronite schoolchildren practice their English…
“Cedars! Cedars! Cedars!”
“See theirs, seethers, Caesars,
See her cedars Caesar?”
“See here, a sea-fare and see there?
And oh, I see Sir?”
“Do you see her? Yes I see Sir, -Caesar!”
“Cedars! Cedars! Cedars!”
And they are descendants of Solomon’s thirty-thousand, the great-grandchildren of Hiram’s workers.
“Sol Indiges!”
“Sol Invictus!”
“Sol-Ammon!”
“Now children, how do the three monkeys act?”
“Sol, the root of solar and it means the Sun, it means also to see or sight as it infers the light of seeing.”
“Am means fire but it is also the meditative word, Aum, therefore it cannot render evil through sound!”
“On is Egyptian and it connotes speech so it represents hearing.”
The instruction in language is not terse. Requiring broad-based understandings of how the West characterizes ideas. These two are particularly adept being taught from birth in both Maronitic and Latin and now English, in preparation for their exodus, as home has become a battleground where they must leave soon. Only in the West can they find peace and practice their faith so expressively. Only in the West can these two girls attend school if their lands are befallen…
“Now children, what does this mean?”
“See no evil!”
“Speak no Evil!”
“Hear no Evil!”
“And that children, is the Wisdom of Solomon!”
Breaking news! CNN reports that a car bomb has exploded in the ancient Lebanese town of Mejdeloon. Shocking footage now of a series of homes that have been reduced to rubble near a Maronite Church where rescuers are just now pulling out the bodies of two young school girls. Christopher Talias reports live from the Lebanon.
“Sol Indiges is the voice of god,"
Sol Invictus, in light, his mind;"
Sol-Ammon is the understanding and wisdom for all time!”
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 11:56 AM UTC
Let her take control over your mind
She full of happiness no thoughts of suicide
Or homocide
Which shed on the earth since my birth
I got no worth held on to then what i thought was girth
Asking myself? What am i living for?
And why must i chase the dough and remain ********
Its just an image that blemishes
Use her as my cleansing as she replenishes
My mind body and soul then she grabs control
Take over so i feel superior and bold
She has no silence beautiful & dangerous to all her rivals
Demons cant even see her her sight
Is more beautiful than an early sunrise
Uprise
I think about her night and day
Til the day that i die looked in her eyes
She got me hypnotize as i rise
She told me to just keep it a surprise most won't realize
What's going on? down and under sound the thunder
She makes rain drops with no clouds in sight
Shes not profain shes not a dame
She uses parables to explain
Her intellectual frame faceless
But i feel her presence
Everywhere i go she's there so prepare
For the ultimate lesson put down my smith n wesson
Light up my incense for a smoke session blessin'
Fall down out of the heavens
Then all of a sudden i get a flash
Picture perfect like Van Gogh
Midnight summer dream no longer chasing the cream
Im all about wisdom cuz its seats
Higher than gold and silver
For they nothing but clay and sand
Made by mans hands stand
All alone on the battelfield
Shedding my tears for my comrades who aint here i fear
None but the Most High the closer i get the more he mutiplies
Her to my mental state of mind as i shine
Brighter than sun everyone
Look at me like an italian don an enemy on the run?
Dont care who feels this or dismiss this
Ya cant deny her existence
She'll be there to ride for you die for you
If only you treat her like you suppose too
I been touched spiritually since i was kid
Didn't understand the wages of sin until i took a bid forbid
Once i partaked in the garden of eden
Original mark of sin before she entered in
Instincts was her game
But we always choose pride and our own fame the game
Is designed for them to win
She might not give your earthly riches
But ya mind will be healthy and wealthy
For the Most High say don't be like the critters of earth
For they boast in secrecy and wickedness
Surrounds thee
For the devil aka lucifer was the Most High first rebel
He used to be married to her then divorced by her
Cuz he choose will over living eternally
Sin casted through the heartz of men
Listen to how he speaks verbally
Everything is lost from what was once was gain now all i see is generation dying in vain
Got homosexuals tracing back to the roots of ***** and gemorrah how can you ignore the
Media when they all over your face she braille the darkness for me
So i can light up my trace
Path of righteousness leads you alone
But if you take the path of darkness
Ya get alot following demons swallowin'
Every march of ya footsteps
Crazy! how this world loves God
So much
But it makes sense cuz "god" switched around is "dog"
Short for dogma im speakin marxism and communism
And all those locked in a spiritual prison
Wake up before it's too late she could make mountains shakes once she awakes
She doesnt hesitate
To those who wanna learned ya might get burned for telling the truth
See all these stage events
That's a sign of repent
No remorse when i see sinful corpses
No hate in my heart she wont let me part
Of her ways
She even shown me brighter days even though it was a cloudy day
Hold on steadifast cuz she only.will last
To those who choose right over wrong
This ain't a song they say in wrong
But im right so please listen to me before death angels sound the gong and we long gone
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 6:20 AM UTC
#ክብረ ነገሥት
*Oh Sovereign of wisdom Solomonic,
forgive us. The wicked wax demonic.
Golden vessels fill with foulness
man is bankrupt, sold and soulless
Unsettling harbingers loom dystopian.
Sheba rises in dreams Ethiopian.*
Tested with questions, her spirit once gone,
occultic suggestions postponed her dawn.
(Six-hundred and sixty-six talents of gold
paid Nineveh’s rise as Messiah foretold.
Go read it in Matthew, obstinate sinner
You think He intends to have Satan the winner?)
Her ruins now surveyed by satellite
beheld on the screens of the Canaanite:
canals to expose, southern deserts to cross,
Eritrean legends of Prophet (and loss),
the Ark of King Menelik—Kebra Negast,
treasures of darkness presented, now past
have us checking those texts that worldlings despise
as we wait under dread Luciferian skies.
Break the sixth seal of the seventh scroll;
let the thirteenth angel spill the bowl !
(or smoke it up in the courts of Heaven
till ganja’s infinitude totals seven…)
Exhume Axum with the ****** of Marib.
decode the encryption on Adam’s rib
unearthed from some Antediluvian ravine—
Blast from the past: she explodes on our scene!
Seven oaths shall be sworn on her spectral beauty
(our Biblical transcendental duty).
The libation is mixed. Are we ready to swill it?
Beersheba? She brew ! Let us rise to fulfill it.
from sita to Saba fifth columns are ready:
Oh Sovereign — render their pillars unsteady.
For after explosions there’s mess to clean up,
and it’s worse than the horrors inside of her cup.
Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 9:47 AM UTC
Ascent
The narrow passage arched over the gaping river
like a gymnast vaulting backwards,
gracing the ground with open palms.
I began to climb--
beleaguered on both sides
by insecure concrete obstructions;
I diverted my attention to the ascending road ahead.
I continued to climb,
like a slowly chugging roller coaster,
meekly scaling up the track
with subdued anticipation.
I sunk into the road;
the sky merged with my pseudo-perpetual path, forming the offing--
where it seemed the road ran eternally into the heavens.
I saw blue reach into black in the late afternoon's
fading visage.
Summit
Gliding over the mountainous ****
I stared over the horizon
where the sun was neatly tucked
under the trees--
silhouetted against the dusky sky,
looking like fingers reaching up into the void,
accumulating like earthly pillows to a heavenly face glowing brightly.
I watched a murky blue dip into a wet grass'd green,
then a traffic cone orange,
followed by the passionate (infra)red of two lovers' entwined,
climaxing in a jaundiced yellow--
tucked neatly like a layer of film
atop the silhouetted landscape.
Descent
I wished I had
descended the adret
of my ascension's perceived perpetual offing,
rather than this gritty one--
to dip into the horizon,
where I would metamorphose
into a dazzling array of colors;
feeling myself slowly fade away
into the impending night sky.
Tucked away for another day,
sleeping under the stars,
in the fingertipped forests
now obliquely reaching into their absent luminescence
but relishing the cool night air--
silently waiting for light
to soon again
breach their gloomy shells.
[Enlightenment lingered within the visions of my ascension--
I danced with its transient spirit at the summit--
to be decimated as the car lurched downward into mortality.
I saw what could be as I moaned into the
fading afternoon's dipping colors.
Who knew the descent was the hardest part of humanity?]
Mar 4, 2016
Mar 4, 2016 at 6:23 PM UTC
Sara L. Russell, 30th November 2015, 17:00pm
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Let the man and the woman be free to choose one another in marriage;
For therein lieth domestic accord.
Let the woman be free to obey the man solely out of love,
only because he deserveth her love through his loving kindness,
therefore she loveth him above all others (with the exception of God).
The man must, in turn, deserve her love; and if he does not, by reason of cruetly,
the woman may flee, with God's blessing, never to return.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
Let the man and the woman live and work together in equality;
For woman is the greatest ally of man.
Let them pray together at the holy temples of the Lord our God,
kneeling side by side in devotional acts of love and worship.
There is no room for oppression in the House of the Lord;
no flowers can bloom in a garden of burning thorns.
Be gentle with one another; or else incur the maelstrom of God's holy wrath.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
Mark this well, brethren; cut not the fragile Flower of Life.
A woman's body is sacrosanct unto herself and unto God;
therefore mutilate her at your peril, for the Flower of Life
is also the Flower of Love. Herein is a font of ultimate power and purity.
No man can exist without the prior existence of woman,
for out of the body of woman cometh the infancy of man.
Whosoever causeth harm to this bloom shall be punished by God.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
Let the men and women of the world be free to express true love and desire,
For out of desire cometh the sweetest songs and most joyous of dreams.
Bring forth thy children in the blessed spirit of love and gentleness.
Be not warlike in your dealings with outsiders; negotiate the ways of
free trading through cooperation and sharing.
There is enough land, grain and livestock for everyone.
Be tolerant and fair; let tolerance guide the destiny of mankind.
✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿
Dec 1, 2015
Dec 1, 2015 at 5:48 PM UTC
beating as i lay my head
ongoing fast pulses as i close my eyes
and when i awake, it's all the same.
conscious pulsing always.
Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 8:33 AM UTC
A regal nose leads down to luscious lips
A tiny waist yields to imperial hips
The wasp-like figure zips past, fairy-fast
And leaves him dangling in her wake, aghast.
"Like young deer on the mountain-top" says he,
"They rise and fall as shivers come to me.
They rack my soul with conquests sweet as wine,
And raise me up to lofty heights sublime."
She smiles gently; wrens tap tiny dance
Upon her gaze, he looks and finds his trance
Her eyes as blackened hazel, all afire
With love and lust and mirrors of desire.
He reaches out his hand to touch her own
As skin grasps pastel flesh, lets out a moan
As softly she caresses him so light,
Then disappears into the dark of night.
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 1:00 PM UTC
Solomon.
Rubies and sapphires
Rolled off your tongue,
Long legs and crimson lips,
Abysmally endless,
Muscled stallions and mares,
To take you everywhere,
Sweet and delicious,
Anything you taste,
Alexander would've bowed,
They could call you Midas,
With fingers of gold,
Solomon,
You asked for wisdom,
Man of God
He gave you the world.
Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 12:33 AM UTC