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This soul has grown
Through all seasons,

Hanging from the
Salt-cliff
Windblown.

This heart has grown
Through all seasons
Of wild love and
Dead unnoticed man.

This soul will
Survive the end
Of every moment

To goodbye
The earth
So here I am
A couple of dead poets,
Dead people laying around,
Dead flowers

Dead souls

Dead end roads

And here am I

Dancing under the moon
How close you approach,
Moon-

How blue
How blood red.

Within the love
Of living heart
(Pump pump pump)

How close-

How far far


Away
Your laughter
****** of clear
Water over
Pebbles
Man is a drowning fish, he cries
Because he lacks the strength to fight
The waves of noise and his own lies
While he knows that in truth’s stark light

His weakened lungs would fail to fill
Lacking now all natural strength
Having sacrificed his poor will
To demons whom he knows, at length

Were promising him naught but dust
Yet nonetheless he made the deal
And trembles now, for so he must,
Smitten by wounds he cannot heal

Flying not to his secret soul
For that sanctuary has been
Defiled, it is no longer whole
The enemy has been let in

And one fears to wade past that stream
Of mere half-conscious surface thought
Pretending rather life’s a dream
Instead of the nightmare we ought

To face, for in the mind’s deep heart
Conscience promises solitude
Inescapable, and to start
Is to be finished. Attitude

Cannot avail us here, pretence
Is futile; only a real flight
Into the desert, sans defence,
Resolve to stand and die, to fight.
why my existence was just one unending question?

even in the formless and endless pitch black (his HP alias),
could hear Him smile and communicate:
if not You, then who?

We love your dreams where answers run wild like an
Oregon waterfall,
only you understand that the whole world encapsulates into:

love thy neighbor as thyself!

which must be recited as a poem
standing on one left leg

then, smiling,
god extended his only finger, touching each of mine eyelids:

sleep, friend for we need your questioning dreams,
your faith unfurled and unfulfilled
for in your unending inquiry
is all of our
in the beginning, our anti-matter rooted creation,

the Holy Dark
2/19/18 3:06am
http://www.seraphicpress.com/rabbi-hillel-on-one-leg-me-too/

n the beginning God created the heavens and the earth. 2 Now the earth was formless and empty, darkness was over the surface of the deep, and the Spirit of God was hovering over the waters.
we read the paper together in bed
side by side,
electronically,
nary a smudge of newsprint
on our fingers or sheets,
nothing to stain that wet spot
we created with the
realized physicality
of our embrace
Wooden spool,
Machine carved sculpture,
Serpentine curves,
A **** shape, a strange stage,
For the the white cotton
Common thread
That binds all of us,
You to me specially.

Sew me a white glove,
I'll provide the finger.
Sew me a white shirt,
I'll supply beating rhythms of a
Bountiful, excited chest.

Sew me a white sailor hat,
White sailor tunic and pants,
Which I will hold with two hands,
On leave, dancing in Manhattan,
Returning to you

With that glove,
Cloaked in royal cotton white,
I will tie you to me by
Signing my name to a
Declaration of Forever Keep and Inter-
Dependence
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