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#tribal
found by your tribe in tribal song dance of days to eternities drum.
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May 6
May 6, 2026 at 8:25 AM UTC
in tribal song
Outside native shore where distant relatives come from Mountainous hills looked like folds of crashing tide Grooving trees danced to the rhythm of ancestral drum Woodcraft countenance of a beast appeared, faces run to hide Metal gutting through air like the reek of some fermented spirit All shivering bones must heed to this mystic call of resonance And should one ignore those small alarming bells; waist-tied to this trigger happy grit Only vicious death 'll bid victim farewell in any horrifying state of happenstance We should have set forth at dawn; long before the eve of a looming Caesar's day Lest we meet dangling blade at the crossroads handheld by bitumen-drenched ****** from southeast But as daylight covered herself with a blanket of gathered thick clouds of may The land's celebration of silence was ruined with the marching ankle-bells of the masked beast Cultures are birthed like the plethora skins of an onion Smearing our visions with this spiritual sogginess of something rooted and cruel We have always known masquerade brandishing a stick stripped from tall bamboo straws; to be seen as a merriment minion And not this awful glare at its wake, needing mask spray from mouth-spitting gin, perhaps; to aggravate horror of a burning fuel We have heard rumors of their king's weaning breathe Perhaps; mere travelers' souls should be spared from unforeseen burial rites For our supplication of a thousand lives shall go to mend his majesty's health So we may leave the festival behind with great hastiness and mights
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Aug 12, 2024
Aug 12, 2024 at 9:10 AM UTC
Masquerade wielding a machete
Outside native shore where distant relatives come from Mountainous hills looked like folds of crashing tide Grooving trees danced to the rhythm of ancestral drum Woodcraft countenance of a beast appeared, faces run to hide Metal gutting through air like the reek of some fermented spirit All shivering bones must heed to this mystic call of resonance And should one ignore those small alarming bells; waist-tied to this trigger happy grit Only vicious death 'll bid victim farewell in any horrifying state of happenstance We should have set forth at dawn; long before the eve of a looming Caesar's day Lest we meet dangling blade at the crossroads handheld by bitumen-drenched ****** from southeast But as daylight covered herself with a blanket of gathered thick clouds of may The land's celebration of silence was ruined with the marching ankle-bells of the masked beast Cultures are birthed like the plethora skins of an onion Smearing our visions with this spiritual sogginess of something rooted and cruel We have always known masquerade brandishing a stick stripped from tall bamboo straws; to be seen as a merriment minion And not this awful glare at its wake, needing mask spray from mouth-spitting gin, perhaps; to aggravate horror of a burning fuel We have heard rumors of their king's weaning breathe Perhaps; mere travelers' souls should be spared from unforeseen burial rites For our supplication of a thousand lives shall go to mend his majesty's health So we may leave the festival behind with great hastiness and mights
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20
I was **** happy and doted to her my grave that splinter her trace with two me and you an ancient love of fiesta now in Maya this ram of fire in lorry's spin
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Aug 10, 2020
Aug 10, 2020 at 10:04 AM UTC
Lorry
On this beach It's where , I find peace Sand between my toes Waves crash splashing me She's such a beauty This beach A gift of nature I find such pleasure On her shores Miles have been walked Driftwood gathered Laughter's echo Of days enjoyed here Even buried my Emma On her shore It's just a beach Oh she's so much more This Mission Beach © Jennifer L Delong 7/3/17
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Apr 12, 2018
Apr 12, 2018 at 3:38 AM UTC
Mission Beach
When all the water has left the dry Earth will sing to Sky Return, please, return! Both the stone pulling and the void pulling like to kiss in the middle of war. Scorched turns to damp in the end, providing our diligence and duty to life. It's shameful the water goes now when such destruction hangs in the near distance. Diligence may no more undo the damage, for the time has gone as well.
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Mar 27, 2017
Mar 27, 2017 at 10:19 PM UTC
Blank White Space: "Reap and Sow"
We all have our own destiny, written in the celestial mystery, Mayan cycles in the eternal so trippy, transition of ego death can be accepted, our souls last forever protected, fear is only a shadow from light of awareness, experience deathless consciousness, nothing but a transformative change, a quantum jump strange, fictional in the cosmic game, rearrange dance celebrate and play, welcome the unknown foresty beyonds, all webs of being are woven better, we are all one from the beginning until forever, ceremonial tribal & shamanic let's gather together.
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Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 5:35 PM UTC
CELESTIAL MYSTERY
Buffalo abound Providing all with one hunt Sustaining the tribe
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Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 10:32 AM UTC
On the Spirit Plains
We can remember it for you wholesale once we clear the stage of initial erase Sure I might lisp on a drunk night, exasperated and claiming in collapse, I'd rather pack rat the memories in one place and consign my pain away to tall tales. I'm drowned, running down wi-fi 6th street. Printing my soles to follow my heels as inescapably I lose track of me.
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Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 2:20 AM UTC
Rule of Rows: "Rat Tribal"
Oh mother and father The fields and the bibles The barns and the woods A bird cries for more Green forever Oh my love; my queen The carvings and the maples The sweet lips and gentle Hands clasping my arm; Moonlight quiet and sunlit smiles For a while. Oh brothers and sisters Look at the fire Look at the ash Look at the skies Feel my skin Feel A dry scale on my back Crawl in the forests Roll in the mud Feast on the fallen Birth to the given Eyes on the sky and the sky so blue I am alive I am alive I Am Alive.
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Jan 9, 2014
Jan 9, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
I am alive