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M Vogel Sep 5

She is shaking,
fingers on keyboards, trembling

A confined spirit..
               now  untethering

You are absolutely beautiful--
Immersed within  this magical-Unfolding
as music  mates to words
Fingers, strumming now

Now finding their perfect placement

     ..On the keyboards
     of her newfound freedom
     A beautiful spirit   now returning
     to a once-little body,   beaten

     for being her beautiful spirit's  home.
     Now with headphones  on ears
     there is a  restoration

     of years and years and years,  

...Of those years, and years, and years.
                   .      .      .

Tell me about pure Joy, churches..
the nice cars in your parkinglot,  
    aint showing

The look on her face, while untethered

     tells me everything
     You can only dream of 
      ever knowing.

This is true Church--
This beautiful  Sunday-mornin' glowing
This spirit-infused flesh

A perfection of music
momentarily, flowing.

From hidden cloud
her flesh-infused  spirit
is my one chance
at pure Joy, knowing..

My love  for her,

     In heart,

     In Art,  all  hers
     I  am  become


The smell of rain and streetlight thrown
A love, a lantern in the snow
But when she feels it taking hold
Finds it so hard letting go
Can I tell her that we'll shine,
She dreads the devil's yet to show

So **** reluctant to expose it to me,  so

So I think of the things that it taught me
She starts to think.. "evil has lost me"
I walked with the wolves, and it haunts me
She steps with intention to run free

So stunner, don't ever move softly
You've been on a journey they can't see
When dancing in ballrooms, you will lead

Promise you'll smile off a memory

the angel opens her eyes
M Vogel Aug 24


Jerry Sandusky too..

  ..And anybody but Jeffrey Epstein
   killed Jeffrey Epstein,
   I am sure of it.

Self-assured and self exonerated;
for a master manipulator,
**** Jagger will forever  sing
in the background,

"Ti-i-i-ime is on myyy siiide.."
           (oh yes it is)

         In this world, it is.
There are school principals,  
who say  to the truthtellers--
"Go home and think about it.."

And who is it that   continually
pulled victim 1 out of his class
at the behest of the perpetrator?

A Jack-Mormon mother
kills her children
  and then smiles
the most ******-up smile
while in court.

Jack Mormon children killers,
know God.

And for a while,
Every single Sandusky
and every Mr. Epstein

   were known
   on earth,  as Gods.

ouch, ouch, ouch--

M Vogel Jul 18
You are describing the luscious moments
of being caught up within the gorgeous beauty
of the bewitching hour.
Here on Earth, your spirit  is encased
within the confines  of skin and bone..
(however beautiful that encasement may be..)
yet within those tremendously beautiful,
mystically-tantric moments,

everything about who one is  becomes caught up  within
the unchosenly-chosen Third-Heaven form  of ecstasy

        that enters into realms
        which are beyond all human description..

..Yet we still feel compelled
to find the unfindable words within those moments,
to send a lovenote concerning it all  to our internally beloved.
Within those moments.. and within the ******-saturated ecstasy..
everything about the need to convey it to another
makes perfect sense..

     yet within the first light of morning,
     we suddenly see how every single part of that message
     would be.. /could be misconstrued  as wrong.

At death.. the body's husk falls off..
and the spirit continues on--
       into what, I do not know.
I truly believe that the ecstatic moments  of that
beautiful bewitching hour is the foreshadowing
of what the forever-realms will be like for us
in the Nextplace..  Yet within the  limitations
of being encased within the confines  of flesh and bone,
how can not the beautiful body express it  through
nothing less than that of ******-laced sexuality.

I'm sorry for the length of this,
but yours is one of the few times
I have seen something parallel  to my own experience
during those wee hours of the morning..
so very beautifully, bewitching moments.

I've said so intricately-much,
you should probably block me now, young-love..
I certainly wouldn't blame you if you do.

Peace to you, sweet beautiful girl.
love hurt magic bewitchinghour sexuality eternity
M Vogel Jun 20

All your little feelers out
Doing all your feeling, sideways
(that way you don't get caught)

And me,  feeling--
within the heart's natural response
(and treated as if I am stealing)

Oh, marriage and romantic relationships
finding their buried needs on the internet
Y'all can **** my ****..  ya hear?
(You're this way one moment..
and that way, the next)

   Ya.. **** my ****.

And you.. with all your magic
(yeah..every single one of you)
Always pickin' for yourself
the one for the home
who least, challenges

And so..
you  move towards me

And then punish me
(a true, single man)
for reminding you  of the dream
that fell back to sleep
the moment  you chose
a life of sleep--

(when you chose  for you
the one who sleeps.)

So **** me
you gorgeous little *******
**** me for being  the one
who shows you what it  feels  like
to not sleep.

**** me for feeling.
(oh, and *******, sweet-dream)

      I will  never,
                fall  asleep.

There must be something in the way I feel
That she don't want me to feel
The stare she bares,  they cut me
I don't care, you see, so what if I bleed?
I could never change just what I feel
My face will never show what is not real

A mountain never seemed
to have the need to speak
A look that shares,  so many seek
The sweetest feeling I got from you
The things I said to you were true
I could never change just what I feel
My face will never show what is not real

I could have lied, I'm such a fool
My eyes could never, never,
never keep their cool
Showed her and I told her how
She struck me but I'm ****** up now

But now she gone, yeah, she gone away
A soulful song that would not stay
You see, she hides 'cause she is scared
But I don't care, I won't be spared

I could have lied, I'm such a fool
My eyes could never, never,
never keep their cool
Showed her and I told her how
She struck me but I'm ****** up now

I could have lied, I'm such a fool
My eyes could never, never,
never keep their cool
I showed her and I told her how
She struck me but I'm ****** up now
(****** up)
go back to sleep now, my beautiful.
M Vogel May 26

..Your name is Stands?"

#prairiegrassfriendships ❤️xo
  May 20 M Vogel
Stephan W

I have seen you there,
standing alone, along the shoreline
    --if you only knew--
Your thoughts- a poetic buffering,
spoken out- onto weathered paper,
through trembling hands;  words
let in to the ocean wind--
the dreams of your heart, the needs,
ah, yes.. the deep needs of your heart...

    among these rocks,
    you are always alone.

At the tip of your fingers-- the small ridges;
fragmental, yet monumental imprints, etched
in to you, the moment your spirit entered
your temple. They tell the world of your story:
through fine, texture-perception, you feel it--
your trembling fingers grip the pen, expressing,
conveying your truth into a world that does not
hear.. a shallowing, that deafens..

    You glance at your fingertips--
    to assure, you're really there
    ~ ~

(The sea has picked up a bit, now
the waves, crashing against the rocks
rocks, that still won't hear..)

And here also, outlined
within the warm beat of the
human heart,
there is a sound that can be heard--
one similar to the aliveness
of the crashing waves.
Place your fingertips against those
that are real-
the sound blends-in perfectly
with the sea
as the uniqueness of imprinted ridge,
moves up against that of the other--
contrasting, here.. fitting together
perfectly, there..

    Scream, "I am!" to the sea; and see, love..
    scream it out, and see.
    ~ ~ ~

I am everywhere near you-- encouraging,
celebrating.. at times, weeping;  hands
outstretched, the uniqueness of my
own finger prints, longing
Along this shoreline, I have watched you
for an eternity, hoping
that you might somehow take it all, in.
Clouds beckon, asking again for the
earth's moisture

      and I respond,  e v ap o r a t i ng.

      ~ ~ ~ ~

Your small, beautiful feet, now
all pigeon-toed- now, standing
at the water's edge; as the
rain cloud gives up its prize
just beyond the breakers--

    (my imprint remains,
    but I am of the sea now..)

    Wade into me, love
    that I may wrap myself around you:
    Along this shoreline,
    may you never be alone again.

The voices in the wind,
will take you home again,

the journey home has just begun, my friend

The magic in your eyes,
was more than I surmised
and I surrender time and time, again

To the will of the wind;
the will of the wind, child
The wind in the wind chimes,
takes you home again..

the will of the wind
dancing, dancing..  dancing

this one always makes me cry
M Vogel May 16

"What profits a person,
if they conform to the tetherings
of their own,  mundane life..
yet, in the process
lose their very own  soul.."


Away from it all--
fully Awake and Alive..

and as you return back  down
to the ground,  your beautiful soul

   returns  back,  into slumber.
                 .    .    .    .

Get after it, Babe..
you've got work  to do;

A remembering..
A returning

     ..Of you,
     back  to you.

Whoa, Baby, Baby--
you've been thunderstruck.

.. simply everything. xox
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