There is a flower within each one of us
longing to blossom to the sound of our breath
Stars of beauty annihilate in a sky of shine
while we slumber in relaxed  mode beneath
the sphere of heaven's Zen

Fortitude and hope gather through the tunnel haze
where the center core of our well being
sits in the silence of our created space
We are but one being in an entire human race
grazing possibilities into the daring dreams

Oneness is made possible when we communion
with the atmospheric beings of Godly frequency  
Solitude becomes a desired quest
as the night shows up with all her sacred realms
of beauty and splendor

Let us bloom together
towards a tomorrow bereft of sorrow and loss.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TUkwcPOXzqcInside
Within this beating heart of mine
my love for you is true consigned
beneath my skin a flowing rhyme
is tattooed on my soul, enshrined
Above us only stars and moon
are privy to our lovers croon
We are Zosma we are Supra
desired songs of Kamasutra
You can count on me my dear
my love for you is quite sublime
we are orbits of golden times  
always close and always near;  

To each other we will cling,  
as two Celestials Stars unhinge.

Some people live in cardboard boxes  
others between buildings
Certain individuals beneath a tent
others under bridges, or close to dumpster bins
Palpitating life on the street,
you never know who your going to meet
It can be lonely and  cold out there,  
some people's houses are made of brick and some of air
Some old folks wear pajamas at night and own heat  
others huddle in layered used clothing, shivering from cold
under garbage bags and ***** things;
I for one thank God every day for the roof over my head
No greater comfort, then owning a front door with a lock
and a furnace that works ;
A mattress with blankets, pillows that smell nice
Thank you God for all of that .

I remember in her eyes the color of Christmas day
and the taste of melted butter in the early morning sun
The cadence of her voice, the undertone sounds
of her silences,  it was long ago

She was a matriarchal mountain of energy back in days
when her hair was colored red and her cheeks pummeled pink
Decadent cakes for Christ's birthday accompanied by her own
we ate cake with eyes aglow

Then in the eve of midnight, we unwrapped
secrets that were handed down from family tree to family tree
prepping our dreams we slept without the know
that Christmases of future would hold no mistletoe

I remember her eyes two melting Chocolates,  
and the sound of her laughter was like rippled layers of agate.

Leave it hanging in the stars leave it round the bend
sometimes forgetfulness can be a real God send

Entrust  it to the moon above to an ocean full of Grace
velvet memories, regrets, evaporate without a trace

Live in knowledge it is safe you can trust the light ,  
relegate confide in Hope, before the end of night.  


STOP AND SMELL THE ROSES SERIES

I heard it from a good source that there ARE toilets in heaven
they are  called thrones and you must be pure to sit on one
When you do your BM it quickly turns gold, like the sun
aromatizing the sky with scent of roses at the count of seven

I heard it from a good source that there are chutes in heaven
aluminum coated tubes that deliver your innards to earth in a jiffy
you'll feel so Holy you'll want to hurry up and take a sniffy
before it all goes away, hug it,  and then count to seven

I heard it from a good source, the Angel in charge of pollution
that when Satan imposters arrive they are poked with a pin  
then as the dung falls out, it gets  neutralized with oil infusion
and sent back to that greasy devil who so loves sin  

So, if you spot a villain from hell better count until eleven
then flush twice and it will be eliminated from heaven
I heard it from a good source that Angels are savvy and smart
you can't get away with ** , for they got it down to an art.