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Pandanoia Jan 2016
When the stars align,
No more will I bear the cruelty of this world.
No more will I acknowledge the ungratefulness and betrayal.

When the stars align,
No more will I hear light complaints,
No more will you say, 'my life is the worst!' to me.

When the stars align,
No more will I walk along side your helpless form;
No more will I have to suffer with pain not my own.

When the stars align,
No longer will I be here to guide you, comfort you.
No more will I have to live in a world I do not belong in.

And you will see.
But, you must learn patience
And then wait for the time
When the stars align.
thalassicbaby Jul 2016
the stars do not align
like they do every now and then
not as we drove through glaucous willows
not as the stelliferous night twinkled with promise through the sky roof
not as my cupidity for you
not as we danced in each other's arms paradisally
not as the lanugo on our bare limbs blazed a golden white as we watched the sun rise
the stars did not align for us.

we loved like antipodes - if antipodes did not love.
Carmen Jane Mar 2019
In warm grey matter, your masterpiece reigns,
Killer creations, pours deep in your veins...
If you stumble in sad heartbreaks, once more,
You  tell stories from which will spring folklore!

When planets align, unbeknownst to you,
Profound words, from your tongue drips,
Verses and titles are dancing on dew,
Rhymes are  trembling, on tips of your lips.
I like to align my Stars like you like to brush your hair in the morning
I like to bury my problems like people bury the dead during mourning
I'm sorry to hear that your misery is morphing
I wish i could trap it with a jar
But i'm just a man
I can just try to let it die with my words of empowerment
I work day and night on myself
Using the right words
Cause half the time it's not the right ones
I'll keep trying
Regardless of how many people tell me i know exactly how to speak.
There's always room for improvement.
I like to align my Stars just right
Keep your dreams tight.
jeffrey conyers Jul 2014
If we just align our life to the scriptures.
We might be headed toward salvation.
God know, it's possible.
Just like he know our fleshly action.

He was aware of Adam and Eve weakness.
And the sneaky ways of the serpent.
Except when tempted.
Which we will be.
Don't say it was off God.
But our human weakness.

If we just align ourselves to do his will.
Believe me, all our abilities and success will be achieved.
God know the qualities within all of us.

So of the most unjust men had some wicked ways.
And all GOD request of them, was to make a changed.

Every sin has consequences.
Some will be solved.
Others will be a serious problem to deal with.
ryn Mar 2015
Wonder if when constellations do align
And universe would finally see.
Would it be presumptious of me
To claim that then, finally you'd be mine.

Wonder if my sense would triumph over
So that my heart would be muted.
With all its contents looted...
Would I only seem sillier?

Wonder if I walked away
In due course.
You'd then take my hand in yours
So that a minute longer I'd stay...

Wonder if you'd understand
When if these feet
Should choose to retreat...
That they had to... It wasn't planned.

Wonder if it'd make a difference
If I said that I had to...
Not for me but more for you.
Would we still be able to love in silence?

Wonder if you'd wish that you made it all clear.
Before the gravity of reality would crush us,
Before the vastness of uncertainty swallows us,
Before my presence would diminish and inevitably disappear.

Wonder if you find my pessimism exhausting.
The volatile nature of my moods...
Especially when I dive deep in solitude
And resurface with a trove of words that are no less than exasperating.

Wonder if you loved me enough
In a day...
To stop me from walking away...
Or loved me too much to plainly say

That...

Future's days would see us apart...
Future's moon would glow but not for us...
Future's stars would sing but not of us...
Future's sun would dry out the passion in our hearts.
ryn Oct 2014
Arrange my mind's galaxies and planets.

Sedate angry asteroids and burning comets.

Align for me my heart's constellations.

Clear the clouded nebulae in my intentions.

Turn the moon gently to look upon me,

So I may find the sea of tranquillity...


                              Tonight.
Clouded, dishevelled mind. Want peace...
Sarah Knill Sep 2011
Aligning every thought, you not coming across leaving me the most impatient.
I may be someone to you.
**** the though, linger on dear.
Silky shadows of you rest in my soul.
Aware of my every thought, you smile.
My unimaginable, inconsiderable, unpreventable state of mind may look at you.
Come on in and gently place your flowers on the ground.
With your unobtainable feeling, ideas wisp out.
The delicacy of this proven fact is unknown
Someday I may miss you.
Come and collect every whispering thought of this world.
As your docility frolics throughout my bones, you know exactly what to do.
You came over, oddly real. And from then on turned into something beautiful.
My sensitivity collapses.
Align everything in a lovely way.
patty m Jul 2018
In the pale beyond the moon
fossilized predators bay,
while stone footprints lead us nowhere.
We slide across meridians,
masked as silent shadows,
some run with wolves
and sometimes vanish
others are mummified
soon after they're born.
Lost souls, stray cats, fleas on the
backs of ubiquitous rats,
we flail ourselves with twisted hangers
sounding discordant notes.

Tattooed our blood rituals finalized
we peel ourselves from the edge
living knife sharp against the violence always flaring.
Beat up junk, reeking of smoke
the cruelty of it all and yet we reveal nothing,

Lionesque leaders stalk
jabbing their claws, partaking in torture,
now we are random prey;
no tower of control or greetings are chorused,
as we move alone or in pairs conversing only in signs and signals.
We align our sites on the bullet's trajectory,
superimposing ourselves on our enemy's vision,
Like demons spreading disease and infection
we fight until we die, or defiantly dance
in the bloodlust of future freedom.

Idols turned clay, the universe erupting
what do we make of it all?

Nullified regions under siege
and still they fight,
don't they know that we're all dying?
War is a suicide,
of the body and the mind,
releasing spirits to the sky,
war is a suicide.

War is a suicide,
a fatal sacrifice,
of a life.

When all the stars align,
will we realize,
that it is time,
to end war.

How can man,
sacrifice his life,
for a falling mankind.

How can man,
risk it all,
just to fall.

War is a suicide,
a fatal sacrifice,
of a life.

When all the stars align,
will we realize,
that it is time,
to end war.

We're hungry for war,
we're hungry for more,
we're hungry for gore.

We're the mass murderers,
we're the world killers,
we're the war mongers.

How can man,
sacrifice his life,
for a falling mankind.

How can man,
risk it all,
just for the great fall.

War is a suicide,
a fatal sacrifice,
of a life.

When all the stars align,
will we realize,
that it is time,
to end war.

War is a suicide,
of the body and the mind,
releasing spirits to the sky,
war is a suicide.
Copyright Barry Pietrantonio
The Gift Of Conscious Creation


The supreme happiness of life is the conviction of being loved for yourself, or, more correctly, being loved in spite of yourself.

-Victor Hugo


Date: Wednesday, April 8, 2009, 1:37 AM


Divine greetings beloved way showers! We are the Spiritual Hierarchy present with you to offer insight about your next steps on the journey into oneness.
Long ago there was a call in your heart to awaken to your divine splendor as a radiant being of light. Virtuously, you answered the call to keep your head above the swells and torrents of the rising frequencies on this planet, your beloved earth.

What lies before you now is a new set of rules, new challenges to overcome, but challenges in the name of unity, connectivity and with unprecedented levels of love that surround each of you.

What we would like to discuss with you this day is your special part in the grand scheme of planetary changes. First we would like to assure you that you are well on your way to what we call the path of active service, though service really does no justice to the name for what we call service is really the souls expression of pure joy.

Your deepest joy, as a beloved child of God, is a joy that is expressed through you in divine covenant as a benevolent force of good on this planet and for the resurrection of peace, cohabitation and divine love.

As servants of God’s will, your joy is unmatched in rivalry; it is this flow of divine grace that runs through you as a clear conduit uplifting all in its path. It is the flow of God’s grace that nurtures your every whim and answers your every call as the universe aligns and dances with your light as you become a conscious co creator of divine will.

Beloved servants of God, we call to you in remembrance of your holy plan and to remind you that your plan as a way shower of pure potential begins and ends with you!

What is important for you to now deeply realize is that you are the creator of all that you experience within & without.

Because of this, your inner dwelling must become the purified temple of Christ consciousness to be contained within, that which enables the continual flow of higher dimensional love to support the life that you see clearly in your minds eye, and feel deeply within your heart-space.

The moment in your life when you made the choice, the choice to live to your full potential and to radiate the full splendor of Christ’s love, was also the moment that you willingly walked forth into the line of fire.

We say this so that you will realize that the path you have chosen, the path to freedom and to your heart’s desires, is indeed the path of full human potential, but that whatever is blocking you from your highest intentions to co create a life of peace, passion and joy must be expunged. To co create with the divine and heavenly bodies of light that surround you, you must be free from all lower thought forms delivered from evil, so to speak.

In this, the realization that you already have all that you desire within you, is not just a cliché or a mark of happenstance it is a deeply laden truth that you must come to see and to embrace fully in the light of All.

For your light shines ever so brightly! It is only the darkness of outworn beliefs and illusions that limit you, that temporarily dampen your shine. To shine again, you must do nothing other than let go of all those beliefs that no longer serve you and to do this; to really do this effectively, you must first come to the level of knowing that this is indeed true.

Once you have achieved the state of knowing that you are beyond powerful, beyond capable to rise above the heaviness of any darkness that surrounds you, you are already 90 percent there.

Do you see this? Do you see that there is nothing to do per say, but to unload all heaviness?

For yes, this is the simplest truth dear ones this is the truth that you may search for in many external ways, yet we share with you that it can only be found within.

The inner strength that you posses to rise up and rise up against the weight of your past-conditioned beliefs is already deeply there. You must only strive for and crave the freedom even more! More than your past conditioning will have you to believe.

Divine passion is God’s fuel the fuel of freedom that will continually lift you above all strife.  Passion is the fuel that will keep you continually upward bound. Yet we also share that passion alone will not serve to clear the way to your truest desires.

Passion will create the impetus necessary to catapult you to higher levels of living. Passion will lift your sights beyond the mundane to where miracles can serve you, but it will be for your daily discipline to sustain and free you.

What we mean is this to rise above the mental planes of discord and strife so prevalent in your world today, you must have a mechanism, a tool within you that you can turn to each time a thought arises that you are less than, that you are incapable of achieving your dreams.

For certainly there will be those times when your dreams seem far out of reach, but we assure you that these times are the times when you are needed to rise above those beliefs most ardently.

In doing so, you free yourself...each day, each hour, each minute that you choose to believe in the higher voice...in the knowing that these times will come to pass.

Freedom comes by your daily will to concede to a higher plan.

How you ask?

And we will share, that to align to your higher plan daily means nothing more or less than staying connected to your dreams, feeding your passions, honoring what feels good and accessing the power behind those intentions.. and to never waver in and out of the thoughts that will have you believe that you are capable of less... for surely those thoughts also create.

Healing begins with the mind, for when the mind is not aligned with your higher will, it creates energetic disturbances and discordance in your electromagnetic field that keep you bound. Therefore, we remind you how imperative it is to your well being and to your forward momentum to keep your mind solely focused on only what it is that you desire each and every moment that you are captured by thought.

Each time you waver, each time you honor a thought that is less than what your intended outcome will be, you run the risk of plummeting your dreams in a downward spiral, a direction less suited for true freedom.

And each time you align with the voice within that reminds you that you are creating, in every moment, the reality that you experience, you align with the power of what is and therefore the pure potential of what can be.

Beloved wonders, you are empowered and sovereign beings of light here to concrete the physical, emotional, mental, & spiritual realities that you feel deeply within your heart. This is the creation of your life, the greatest creation of all, and it is an ever-unfolding path of greater divine love & feelings of bliss.

Did you know that the love you experience in your life is an exact reflection of the love you that you allow yourself to feel?

It is true! To increase the reflections of love in all you do, in those you meet, you must increase the love quotient within yourself. Love yourself daily by reminding yourself that you are made of pure love and that you are the empowered creator behind all you choose.

Choose consciously, in each moment that presents itself to you, choose with love, and your choices will begin to reveal themselves immediately in how you are feeling.

Are you feeling loved? Then your recent choice was aligned with your highest good. Are you feeling unloved? Then your recent choice was aligned with less than your potential.

When you feel like the radiant being of light who you truly are, you will experience life as you envision it to be. If not, you must simply choose again. And again. And again until you have achieved the external reality that matches your heartfelt desires.

These choices come to you in every now moment the choice to believe in the reality that you see with your physical eyes, or the reality that knows that everything can be exactly as you en-vision.

Remember dear souls, real-reality becomes real when you enliven it with attention and be-lie-f; when you choose to feed it with the power of your focus.

The gift in conscious creation is that the choice is always yours!

So dig deep within yourself to remember your power to have it all and to love yourself so fully that you change the very vibration of the very earth you live on. This is how you will lead as way showers of the new earth paradigm by your radiant example of what IS possible.

Become all of who you wish to BE and you will rapidly birth the life you wish to see.

We are the Spiritual Hierarchy with you today to remind you that only you can lift yourself above the ordinary to achieve the extraordinary. Only you can Become who you deeply know yourself to be.

You are loved and supported beyond measure. This is the link for this if you want to send it onward to lighten the path for many.   Lifetechnology@yahoogroups.com sent by ormusalchemy@aol.com  many blessings and much love and light to all  shekhinah.
Shekhinah En Ka Mitt (C)                                                                       4/19/09
Molly Jul 2013
Would you dance with me in the kitchen,
with the moon shining overhead?
I'll take your hands and smile into your kisses,
and laugh at the funny things we've said.

I'll bring you into my garden,
and whisper secrets into your ears.
And after we've been lost for hours,
I will tell you all of my fears.

The sunshine ripples soft
upon your lazy cheeks
so let's just lay in bed, my love
for hours, or days, or weeks.

The outline of your embrace
blooms petals around my spine
our heartbeats tonight, how quickly they match
and our breath, and our stars align.
sol Mar 2017
who would have thought it ends this way?
The stars, how they had warned us.
Now I don't know how to make you stay.

I can feel your life slipping through.
My hands shake, you are cold,
and I never guessed, I never knew.
My heart breaks as I let go.

We never knew where this led,
and now your blood is on my hands.
As the lamb makes his final stand,
I wish this wasn’t how it ends.

And now the sands tell your time.
As the wolf shouts to the moon,
the stars above you, they align.
sonnet
revised 3/27/17
My Heart and Mind had a discussion one day,
About a man that they both knew quite well.
The heated discussion continued for hours,
Both with arguments meant to compel.

A debate ensued between the two,
With each taking a different perspective.
The Heart believed the man to be true,
And the Mind thought he was deceptive.

Heart started the discussion with an obvious point,
"He is sweet and gentle like no man before."
Mind responded smugly, "That's great in the moment
but how does he act after she's walked out the door?"

Heart countered, already knowing the point being made.
"Sure, he may not be able to write or call;
He is busy with constant demands of his time.
What he feels in his heart matters most of all."

"I disagree," and Mind continued to say,
"Actions mean far more than words alone.
It is when words and actions are considered together
that a man's true feelings are shown."

"He has to compartmentalize to get through the day."
Heart continued to defend his intentions,
When they are together his feelings are real,
but her insecurities span many dimensions."

"It's funny you would mention compartmentalizing.
Apparently your memory isn't as sharp as mine,
He was once quoted as saying this was not his strength,
proof that his statements don't always align."

"You are cynical, suspicious and guarded."
Heart was clearly tired of this dispute,
"Those traits are clouding your judgement.
He is genuine and telling the truth."

"I think you are overlooking the obvious but
I'll relax and stop doubting his intentions
if he makes an effort to send a simple sign."

Heart and Mind both wanting to prove their point
and have the bragging rights of superiority.
Mind sure that the man would disappoint her;
Heart confident in his genuine sincerity.

Both waited patiently for some type of gesture,
Something to demonstrate that he really does care.
Heart began to worry and whispered to herself,
"Stay calm and trust that it's not just another affair."

Patience prevailed and an email arrived,
just as Heart had hoped and prayed.
Mind, although disappointed by being proved wrong,
was relieved and no longer afraid.

Trust and calm filled her spirit when thinking of him,
but it was both that won in the end.
Maybe they were more than temporary lovers
and could also be permanent friends.
Rochelle R Feb 2018
The anguish in this alienating aloneness is alarmingly enlightening
I am aware as the colors of my aura
fade from vibrant to mute
A spiraling sense of self grasps at false promises of hope or help
Each face that shows itself as an ally is simply mirage or ghost
Or wisps of nothingness I probably hallucinated to cope
I am an anchor in a rushing tide
Life floods by with no more than a glance over the shoulder
Some collide from behind urging me to move on, frustrated when I don’t align with their idea of time
I need to be unapologetically ‘not ok’
Imagine my electric shock when I find that’s not an option
The anguish in this alienating aloneness is alarmingly enlightening
#metoo
Shanead Jul 2011
Inside and out of my mind.
Waiting for the stars to align.
Going over things unsaid...
Putting myself through the infinite grief in my head.

I should let you in my mind more,
So then you too can explore.
Subliminal messages which you find absurd;
You just haven't taken the time to let them be heard.
You probably have no care,
So hold your breath at your own despair.

Stuck in a labyrinth.
Cogitations deepening within.
I keep searching, and searching, but still haven't found the light at the end...

Finally, I look up and see the moons grin;
Along with that stars as the universe spins.

The stars finally come together putting me at ease.
The allurement caught around my consciousness pardoned my heart to be released;
Letting me escape from the deceptions of my own mind...

The stars finally came together... and I learned everything just takes time.
Asphyxiophilia Jul 2013
It's 3 am and you're restless again. Your thoughts wander briskly through the fields of memories of him and you find yourself picking each one and holding it delicately in your palm. The lights from the streetlamps outside your window peek through the blinds and illuminate synthetic stars onto your ceiling which you count like each kiss he ever placed on your cheek. Your legs are wrapped up in your sheets like the way they used to tangle around his ankles every evening. You roll onto your side and attempt to close your eyes once more, calling out to a peaceful slumber that has been evading you for weeks when suddenly, you hear a whistle in the distance. You open your eyes again to see the stars growing into spotlights that threaten to swallow you like black holes, but without the mystery. You immediately grab your wrists out of fear that you unconsciously took a blade to them but you are greeted by scars that have been forming for approximately three years (and eleven months). Your heart threatens to pound its fist through your chest as you slowly turn to see what the source of the light is. Just as your shoulders align with your mattress, a man steps from what appears to be a train engine and greets you with a nod of his head.
"Good evening, sleeping beauty," he begins sweetly, "I have come to extend an invitation to the night train."
You bring your hands to your eyes and attempt to wipe the hallucination away from your vision but when you open them again, you see the man gazing intently.
"It is my understanding that this is your first meeting with the night train," he states as he waits for you to supply an answer.
You nod your head.
"Well, my dear, the night train is here to offer a sweet elixir to cure this sleepless evening. You see, the night train's purpose is to supply the recipient ("that's you," he says behind his hand) exactly twenty minutes of time spent anywhere of their choosing. And then, once the time is up, the recipient must board the train once more, and will be met with approximately eight hours of uninterrupted slumber." He pauses as an assurance that you are following along, so you nod your head slightly. "However, the catch, you see, is that if the recipient does not board the train at the end of the twenty minutes, they will find themselves trapped in a restless oblivion with the promise of never again finding the comfort of sleep." A slight smile tugs at his lips as he tilts his head out of sympathy. "This may not seem to be much of a threat considering you are currently wrapped up tightly in your bed, but I assure you it will be tempting to remain within the place of your choosing, despite the whistle of the night train."
Unsure of what else to do, you nod your head once more.
"Alas, now we must be on our way, because the countdown begins in exactly three minutes! So I urge you to think quickly of where you would like to be taken!"
As though the train has suddenly run into your chest, the meaning of the opportunity that has been placed in front of you knocks the wind out of you. Before the conductor even finished his sentence, you knew exactly where you wanted to go, so you swing your legs to the side of the bed and push yourself upright.
"I would like to be taken to July 13th at precisely 2:32 in the morning," you say quickly as you flatten your restless hair to your head and straighten the t-shirt you are wearing.
"Very well, very well. Now board the train, my dear. And we'll be off to the morning of July 13th, but I urge you not to forget your time limit of twenty minutes!" He places his hand on your back and ushers you into the train, guiding you to a red velvet seat lined with golden stitching. Once you are comfortable, he disappears into the cabin and blows the whistle before pulling out of the station that is your bedroom.
With no warning at all, you feel a tightening in the pit of your stomach and before you even have time to clench, you are sitting on a rooftop overlooking a vibrant city.
"I just don't know anymore. It's like- It's like everything I once knew has been flipped upside-down and I'm just expected to be okay with it. But I'm not."
You blink a few times in an effort to adjust to the sudden deja-vu that causes your head to swim in the memory of an evening you have constantly waded in.
He is sitting with one leg tucked beneath him and the other dangling over the edge, as though even his limbs can't decide whether they want to take the fatal plunge or not. His hair was always absent of color, the kind of black that made you question the material of the universe because even the night sky couldn't compare to the degree of darkness; but it seemed to be doing just that as it laid haphazardly across his pale forehead. His bony fingers are clutching a nearly empty bottle of gin which he brings to his lips between sentences. He continues speaking as though you didn't just appear out of thin air beside him.
"My mum doesn't even pretend to understand anymore. I've heard her mention boarding school at least three times this week, despite my constant refusal to even speak of it. She knows the walls in the apartment are paper thin, so I know she brings it up because she knows I can hear it. But I don't want to hear it."
You notice the vacant look in his eyes as he stares into the horizon, like a hotel room that has been emptied of every belonging, including the light bulbs. He uses his free hand to adjust the collar of his leather jacket before taking another swig of the gin.
"I just can't stay there anymore, and she knows that. Deep down, she knows I can't stay there now that he's gone. I just can't."
His voice is as hollow as his chest as he uses his tongue to wet his lips before turning his head slightly to look at you.
"I wish you could come with me, I really do. It would be quite the adventure, the kind that we used to dream of having. But I can only afford one ticket out of town."
He places the bottle on the ledge, dangerously close to the edge, before resting his sweaty palm on your exposed thigh. His eyes travel from your legs to your forehead, and he leans forward to place a kiss on it, but he misses and falls into your lips. Just like before, your hands land on either side of his face, catching him before he falls completely, and you suddenly find yourself exploring the warm cavern of his vulnerability. His tongue swirls around your own and you taste the bite of the alcohol on his breath but this is the moment you have always craved so you soak up every bit of it. He pulls away just as your heart starts to tremble, and he wipes his mouth with his sleeve before picking the bottle up again and stealing a drink.
"I wish you could come with me," he says again, his eyes now focused on the street below. "But I fear I can only afford one ticket out of town."
Just then, you hear a whistle, but the timing isn't right. This is the moment you would have died to change, and now you've been given a second opportunity, but you can feel it slipping away.
You lean towards him, softly placing your hand on his arm.
"Come with me. We can go anywhere in the world that you please, and I promise it'll be better than here or there if we're together. Because I can't go where you're going, because I can't pay that price, but I want to go away with you, I do."
You search his empty expression, hoping to grab some string of familiarity that you can use to pull him back to reality, but his eyes are locked on the parallel lines beneath.
The whistle grows louder, this time stinging your eardrums, and you know that your time is running short, but you can't let him go.
"You don't have to go back to your apartment, you don't have to go back to your mum. We can runaway tonight, together. You and me, just the way it was always meant to be."
Your voice is shaking and desperate, getting louder with each word that you speak as the whistle blows from behind you, threatening to leave.
Just then, a hand falls upon your shoulder, and for a second you allow yourself to glance over, and it is in that second that the body before you tips over the rooftop's edge. Your heart falls like a weight in your stomach, just like on the evening this event first occurred, anchoring you to the cement and preventing you from going after him. The conductor who now stands behind you grabs your torso and pulls you backwards as you scream his name into the night sky. You kick against his hold as he drags you back onto the train and into the velvet seat again.
This time, you were unable to hear his body land on the pavement.
This time, you weren't able to look down and see his hands lying ten feet away from the rest of his body.
This time, you didn't get to perch on the edge and contemplate for hours joining him.
This time, you couldn't blame yourself for being speechless, for letting him be the star of his shining moment, because you attempted to be his Juliet.
You didn't realize you were still screaming until the conductor grabbed your shoulders with his hands and shook you quickly.
"Quiet my dear, I fear it is time to go. And I was unwilling to allow you to remain any longer, but I fear you will only be receiving six hours of peaceful slumber."
You look at him sternly, unsure how he can continue to speak of this ****** night train and its guidelines after you just watched the love of your life commit suicide for the second time.
You take a deep breath before speaking, "I don't understand the point of this, why bring me here if I couldn't change anything? Why allow me to relive this if it didn't make a difference?"
He smiles sympathetically before beginning, "oh but it did. You see, for three and a half years you have been tossing and turning, wondering what you would have done differently and if you would have been able to change it. But you see, the past isn't something that can be changed. It can only be relived again and again within the minds of those who continue to contain it, and the pain of the past and the memories that come along with it will feel just as real as the day they happened if you continue to dwell on them. Eventually you will see that tonight made a significant difference, because you were finally able to recreate the scenario that you always dreamed."
Your mind is running at a faster speed than the train as it makes its way back to your bedroom, and you can't seem to comprehend what the conductor is saying.
"So you're telling me that the whole reason behind this was to show me that he was going to die whether or not I tried to convince him otherwise?"
He places a gentle hand on your shaking shoulder and replies, "the reason behind this was to allow you to finally put the past behind you and grant yourself the pleasure of peaceful slumber. Because you see, my dear, there is no such thing as the night train. It is merely a figment of your imagination. Deep inside you, you realize that nothing you said could have changed that night, but you needed to dream another possibility in order to believe it. Now believe it."
"But I-" you begin to speak but in the blink of an eye, you're suddenly sitting on the side of your bed, your shoulders no longer shaking. You blink again, trying to make sense of everything. You bring your hands to your face and feel your cheeks, reassuring yourself that you still exist. You look around once more, noticing the stars upon your ceiling twinkling as though they are winking at you like the conductor of a mysterious night train. But you realize that you are in your bedroom, in your t-shirt, as though you never moved beyond that point. And you find that you're unsure whether it was all a dream, or whether you really did go for a ride on a night train, but you decide to lie back down and attempt to sleep anyways.
And six hours later, you find yourself awaking from a very peaceful slumber.
Divine Minds Transcend*

We must follow
the trail of crumbs
The crumbs of celestial static
Hold on
to the secret truth
it's time to follow the white rabbit

Down, down the rabbit hole
where it leads
few will ever know

I am not what I was
I was what I will never be again
I found myself on the outside
like a mirror looking in
Like an enemy betraying a friend
and then my mind was shattered
Worthless fears crumbled to the floor
then the transformation began
The divine mind transcends

We are mindless souls bouncing off each other
until the gears fit and the machine begins to thrive
Together the powers united can be
connected by a force greater then life
The truth that leads us separately
to a place where our souls are defined
Not by the conflicted mind
but by the spirit that resides inside
to an alternate reality
the more the merrier
break through the dimension barrier
as time and the universe collide

I am not here to control you
I am not here to pass judgement
I am not here to behold you
I am here to join you in flight
I am not like the others
Like you I'm bound by destiny
connected sisters and brothers
the story is ours to write

We few
must follow the trail
the trail of crumbs
The crumbs of celestial static
So hold on to the power you know is true
as the planets and stars align
It is time
time to follow the white rabbit

Down, down the rabbit hole
where it leads
few will ever know
© JDMaraccini 2013
Emanuel Martinez Mar 2013
If (WO)men are the ones that suffer an exacerbated amount
Of the violence, the ****, the abuse, and everything that comes
with and from struggle and alienation;
it is because of their femininity that men at times
have come to believe that their contributions soften institutions.
That at times throughout history neither capitalism, neoliberalism nor revolutionary experiments like that of Cuba have placed femininity as compatible
with progress or resolution.
In which case femininity must be hidden, silenced, or displaced with no purpose or place to belong.

Thus everyone closely associated with this femininity such as homosexuals, transgendered (WO)men, and "effeminate" males, (ignoring, subverting and negating the lesbian identity because of their gender) have come to be marginalized by a structural system of exclusion.

(WO)men carrying the highest burden for originating the associative distinction

Homosexuals battling to find love by constantly having to assert their masculinity

Transgendered (Wo)men afraid of expressing their through identity.

Lesbians fighting to legitimize their own identity separate from the directives ascribed onto them by virtue of being born women.

Males who are labeled effeminate because of their sympathy toward those who struggle and are alienated.

And every other individual who refuses to deliver to give a marker to their identity and a degree to their femininity.

Hold fast in your femininity and embrace the rancor that society grants you
As a homosexual I speak with you brother and sister, not for you

Realize that our self-ascribed degrees of femininity and identity are as revolutionary and transformative, and thus necessary, as those of Che Guevara, Mohammed Ali, Harriet Tubman, or the Dali Lama.

That because we have decided to embrace our degrees of femininity, problematic to any movement, at one point or another, we have inadvertently decided to align our selves with those who are alienated the most by the systems in which they live.

So that in this way we must make our struggles deliberate and political. Let our degrees of femininity become legitimizing banners of solidarity for anyone who suffers in any corner of the world.
March 10, 2013
Georgiana S Oct 2014
There are rows of black birds
flying above us,
my love...
Away to foreign warm places
leaving no memories or traces -
There are rows of black birds above.

There is a strong, cold wind
howling and rowing ahead us,
my love...
The echo of a new harsh winter
like an unseen bitter creature
filling the gaps between us -
There is a strong cold wind ahead.

Am I entitled call you 'my love'?
This autumn feels too cold,
too empty to bare
this bare emptiness -
These gaps between us
like black doves
too bold and unreal to hold.

There are rows of black birds above.
They shall never see each other's faces
as they fly to foreign warm places,
While Autumn and Winter align,
without any traces
of you
Yule Aug 2018
'You are my star, but we all reach that point in life that we no longer wish into one.'

Moving forward to a year, I trace upon the letter I wrote for you.

With the smile on my face, I look up the night sky.  I am reminded of how your eyes shine brightly at the scene, and the mole beneath your eye resembles so much of the dots laid up high.

I let out a big sigh. How different it is by this time...

I realized now that we are two of the same; two bright stars. Glowing and burning embers on their own.

We're both coexisting to shine, though we cannot meet for one of us fell for the other too deep already.

A falling star, I cried to you; a shooting star.

How can our stars align? Our paths and distance don’t comply. Far and far across galaxies. You blinded me by that sight. My light cannot compare to yours.

My dearest, you shot too high up the skies to live on your dreams.

And mine just remained being one.
2018.

{nj.b}
I loved her.

Before I even gazed upon her

I loved her

Before I was even dazed by her words of splendour

I loved her

Not for her ability to
charm others
as even though she just as often harmed others

Not for her straightforward intelligence
for she shared a forward thinking
dissidence

And not for her beauty & majesty did I love her

Because not far from often, did she bring cruelty and calamity too others that I did love

And when I loved her, it wasn’t because of her bountiful spirit

For when one drove responsibility towards her
she was both accountable and idyllic
her innate strength insurmountable & prolific

And my love did not come from her humble yet dominating origins

Hunters and gatherers roaming in forests

Nor her families evolution, amongst changing nations
into cultural irrigation, harvesting & cultivation

Yet my love was neither superficial

wrought by a feverish desire for atypical minerals

As it is evident she grew up to live lavishly, as if she were a daughter of kings and pharaohs, emperors and regents

Far from superficial
it went beyond my own existence
‘tis was it deep

And watching her grow up
yet older and slowly darker
it flooded me with a sense of grief

For that was the only side she showed me, and allowed others to see

But beyond the seas and ravines, ridges & fjords, she beamed

And that is how it felt for a time
her happiness distant and far gone

Looking back it’s blatant she was far from dormant

But I believe during that time she was merely misled

It took time to connect her heart with her head

And for a time it seemed she was finally ready to proceed

And that was all but my dream
for her

But in my heart, I knew she would waver and ultimately capitulate towards the darker times

I think, even though she was mature and grown

not enough time separated her from her home

a family always wanting to dominate and roam

The precedence was set
The credulous to fret

And even though it’s in her nature to align with basic instincts

I awaited,
like those in scriptures
for a sign
that leads her to brighter precincts.

Of this hope

it was something I dreamt about
until I was left awoke

It was a scathing cycle, hopes festered
with a heart broke

And in the depth of my despair
I was still convinced,
that behind her “politics” & warring nature with others,

that the woman I loved & dreamt, was still there

And you know what?

She convinced me

Not deceitfully nor schemingly
but seemingly
through action

She was on a phase of exploration
visiting foreign nations
and establishing relations

Truth was
All of it was a ruse
corrupting & enslaving
it was just another way of experssing her roots

Since then, I’ve never been lead astray, I knew it was just one big game

Even though I never believed that’s who she wholly
was and is

I can’t help but fell this is the way it is

Her being at an unbeknownst
war with herself

One that expresses all she can be
charming, beautiful, full of majesty

That she is the most complex & admiring existence in this universe

And another of opposite birth

One that can be harming, full of cruelty and calamity

And of this side I fear brings the other to her knees

And it ladens me with tears

But of this side of her
I fail to recognise,
as the woman I loved,
and it’s the only failure
I won’t rectify

The woman I loved,
the beautiful glimpses of allure,
that sparks through the impure and demeaning

Is the only meaning I can find within myself to breathe

But I’m lost
Lost in her mystery
Lost in the past

Because, I don’t see her anymore
giving rise to my love in the past tense

For I don’t know where she lives or with whom she spend her time
with

But of the worst fear I hold within my heart
is that the woman I loved never existed to begin with

That the idea of her was just a figment
of my idealistic mind

That all these years,
I conjured a fallacy of this supposed
“Benevolent”
side of her
so I could forgive what she had
imposed

And that I believed & fought so fervently  
in her
because in hope
it would bring life to her

Whatever the reality
I will never put cease
to my belief
that I will see her

Why?

Because the person
of whom I am talking about
is

Humanity

And she is the most beautiful thing I’ve known, regardless of her flaws
My take on personifying history X
The Day...
...huff, huff, ...huff
breathe
Not one but many,
downed
twenty-two a numbered set
Push!
break, reset, align...
frost, huff,
Great God of Light reveals our Glory!
breathing...breathing
Field of pain, torn, exhausted,
sweat, rain, mist, colder
as grass-stained; the warrior's drobe.

Situate,
whistle! -stop!
Realign,
Randint, paired, matched to offset...
feign, move
'Eleven-by-Eleven,' storied beget
tension

Forty-Five!
Eighteen!
Okemah!

Rush...

In the fields herds collide,
as Chaos, Eros, Geron, Adonai,
War portends a losing side?
The cheering throngs cast coronae...


Eleven steers to sacrifice,
go they do to God.
The ritual structure to suffice,
Violent nature absorbed by sod.


BULL
The origin of football is Sparta. The Game of The Sun. Contact was only allowed when in pursuit of the ball or upon players with ball in hand. You threw the ball at the sun and any player who caught it could run it downfield. All forms of contact to get the ball were allowed including eye-gouging, biting, bone-breaking or even killing. See Justinian's Trogus.
nivek Jul 2014
action and words
should align
Silence Screamz Oct 2014
Life's not a puzzle
Take off my muzzle

It's not aligned
Don't keep me confined

It's not a game
Don't push the blame
WS Warner Mar 2012
Secretly bending glimpses,  
When pine and survey align
In tortuous accord –
Reflections of you,
Are not enough
Drew Barrie;
To insulate my heart
From the cleft between us.
Perennials, the color of
Periwinkle,
The smell of rain
And crayons
Return you to me,
Lend presence, vestiges,
Invoke
The gift of you,
Fortify my resolve
To one day reunite.

Numbness and ache,
Lavish tears set
Against the
Unimpeachable light,
Held in the glint in your eyes
Unequivocally green,
Each blink evokes allure,
Found in
A blushing smile -
Little one,
I observe in quiet
Adoration, amid
Our segregation,
Ardor undiminished,
Prayers give permanence
Uttered in a pause
Each
Breath drawn;
Ephemeral visions, alive,
Ballads and rhyme
Memories aflame, occupy
A sacred canopy,
Internal; profoundly
Savored
Never to erase.

Searching for treasure,
Collecting prized sand
And stone,
Your pockets, heavy
With plunder.

Somber tones fill
Gaps in our history,
Find new contrast,
Certain hues
Oscillating shades of gray
Stirring cues
Dearth of winter blue.
Trees bare, secluded,
Known in the bones,
This crisp boreal air —
February.
Moisture absent,
Like a father's words
Laconic;
Your irreducible gaze,
In the
Opaque imagination.

Oddly arid season,
Aloof precipitation,
The will of the wind
Indefatigable,
Sonnets of euphony, leave me
Undone,
Permit me to grieve,
Another year - gone.
Nervous Squirrels, sedentary
And quiet,
As if to mourn with me,
I miss my daughter.

The spring equinox,
Poised pavilion blended
Unfolds in bloom,
Elucidating
The approaching day
Of your birth.

Stunning you were,
Your prominent
Entry into creation,
Tiny noises,
Nestled and snug.
Reach
My effusive heart.
You are here,
Equipped with an
Absorbing mind
Wrapped,  
Perfectly  
Designed, in a petite
Fashioned frame.

Emotions, elastic -
Diffuse and Compress,
In distance friction
Attenuates,
Time and eternity
Extend to the periphery,
Agony
Absorbed into Zoe.
Grace and peace wash
Ashore, rinsing
Poetry pure;
Cleansing, with surprise
And vigor
Recall the loftiest
Of tokens.

I too
Encountered
An esteemed rock,
Smooth and orbed,
Summoning  
Long thoughts,
My citadel made
Of three,
Uniquely ensconced
Inside -
Priceless gems,  
Sustain me.

Enclaves of privilege
Gratified each vacant
Mirror,
Until notes and
Words gather to form
Your story,
Emergent,
The world shifts,
Altered anew.
Resurrection,
Simile to
Our reconciliation
Visceral and singular,
Exuberant teardrops
Flood, fall deeply
Approximating mercy,
Severe, sudden as
The April freshet.

In the lavender garden.

©2012 & 2016 W.S. Warner
mikumiku Dec 2018
I met her on a narrow street of old Verona
Her beauty’s magical, her name was Lady Mona
She rolled a cigarette between her diva fingers
A little cherry smoke around her gently lingers

She had a long deep fire-coloured autumn hair
That with the wind dance as if out of very care
Her eyes are brighter, gayer then azure sapphires
Two little diamonds that can start unholy fires

Her ******* are full of life, the sweetest goddess milk
It taste like childhood memories wrapped up in silk
The skin – an undiscovered lands of sinful wild
It sends you on a trip so rough yet very mild

She was so picturesque, a genuine sugarbomb
Like rays of sun that dazzle through a naked palm
I pray thee, Jupiter, align the heaven stars
And let me be the one who strikes of her guitars

Wish I could walk to her and ask her dearly out
I feel so brave yet nervous, want to scream and shout
I want to spill it out, express my inner passion
But that’s not me behaving in such crazy fashion

Hell to the no! I go! I’ll spit my fire lines!
I am a blonde! I curse those stupid *** designs
I’ll offer things to her, I promise I’ll pushy
****, I am gonna offer her my cola *****

If men be ***** models, I shall be one too
I have one in my mouth – a nasty point of view
If men can flirt and conquer, so can ******* I
This Aphrodite’s taken, she is only mine

I walk to her, approach her like the mighty Taurus
Rehearse my lyrics, shuffle through my love thesaurus
I smell perfume – ambrosia, nectar, lemonade…
Formation, hold up, queen of… ******* Lemonade..?

“What is the name of thee, do tell me, pretty dear
Just like the beauty goddess you to me appear
By any chance you are one of the youthful Graces?
Be careful, darling, I can see your leather laces”
Shofi Ahmed Jan 13
Take the right step to rise perfectly straight high
and rip the reward is the opening of paradise.

The road ahead is all clear an open space
down on this lane, nothing could reach the end.
Things small and big, all fit and can disappear in it.
So you won't see a sun appears on the way
nor can you find a guide a flickering star in the dark
your sway is your best bet it got to be laser-sharp.
There is no hard shoulder on this way
miss it by an inch you can loose forever!

The black canvas of the night is not always dark
the sun can descend on it painting the firstlight
exposing up in heaven the source of the daylight.
There is hope there is light up in the high
as long as there are a man and a woman
never give up we must reach out
to the enduring heaven's light at last.

(1)
A woman indeed plucks up the courage
she never had to look up to the stars
be it for the guide or the light in the night.
Fathima herself was the full Moon every night
is thanks to her Godsent innate light.

With it, she can bask in the full spread of the pi
on top of its short decimals mounting high
constantly as if countless stars in the sky.

The time and space down the sun
and that under Fathima's light
is a far cry from each other
but can live side by side.

Like she points out:
'A circle is masculine
while the pi is feminine'.

Pi forms the circle while it's fine prints
decimal dots continue to spring.
Sprawling trillions of new digits
the bandwagon is still increasing.
Connecting the dots is an untouched dream.
The full moon pi picture is in veil
unseen at large, yet in short 3.145 it can live!  

(2)
Fathima can fly her lock of hair
in the lurking air of the transcended pi.
Because she is the primitive feminine
God's secret feminine opus!
An immeasurable black hole in between
the short and transcended pi runs like a river
and dances new on every riverbank
in the many curls of her jet black hair!

She lent out a hair to the planet earth
and crossed over here like a silhouette
without spilling out the colour
of the transcended end of the pi.
The earth takes it in the core of her heart
as if it would keepsake it forever.
Weaving the pi in Fathima instils the hair
tied it as a perfect circle the first and the front one
of the only ideal circle duo in the universe.

The motion inside the hair is the earth's finest fluid core
none is as deep as high as proportionate a perfect flow.
No time is as revealing no music is as sweet in this orb
no force is as mighty nor as a prevailing giant to explore
it's the cause of gravity and the heat at the earth's core.
the play of spirit and matter in the mix first and foremost
thanks to the pure resonance of 'Qun' be the word of God!

(3)
The way to the earth's core is exposed to none other
save the Angel of Death the lucky one.

See both sides of the one lofty sky swathed in countless stars  
but the day and night render through still remains an unseen one  
Terra is shalet zeroed in Fathima is heaven on earth!  
Up in the sky-high bank turning the starry bowl upside down
Fathima took no star nor a pearl diving deep down the Arab water.
The brightest luminary came after Muhammad (PBUH)
in veil from the Night of Measures and into the flipside in the night
she's gone without lifting the veil but left her penetrating mark.

Few could find the shortcut contemplating on this blank canvas
till to date, the Moon looks down into the abyss down the sea
looking for a mirror in the bottom in the as above so below matter
since God Sent Fathima touched on the all-inclusive primitive water.

She just raised a drop up, and the sun got caught up in the sky
the ancient fold of time still unfurls with the sun-kissed flowers
for the new hands yet the fingerprint on the sun remains only her!

Azrael heads to Fathima around the year 632 after death
touches down in Medina on his usual thin earth he steps.  
But this time a little mundane dust couldn't be thicker
He keeps descending deep down to the earth's centre
following from Medina there the angel locates her
inside the perfect circle a closed geometric figure.

(4)
Fathima is the female headline her secret is not all known
when she used to visit the Prophet Muhammad (PBUH)
he would stand up for her hold her hand and kiss it
and seat her on his seat, she would do the same to the prophet
when he would visit her like they did know each other
in and outside the spheres of heaven and earth!

She is the embodiment of the infinite feminine variations
the first spiritual woman created following God's word Qun.
Her is the mother tongue of the ever diversified feminine lingua
no one woman on her own can rhyme with her alone.
She has no peer her rhetoric is unique like none other
from planet to planet the galactic run up on the starry ladder
climbing high up the mountain heaven yet streams out like oval
off their rock bottom stone until that unleashes the final run
in perfect circle delving into the rhythm of the loop at the centre
made of Fathima's hair charged by 'Qun' God's uncreated word.  

Prophet David can sing on the bank of the river
and can see the fish are jumping to him out of the water.
The masculine is open form eye on everywhere
but not her the woman is in juxtaposition her
all-inclusive schema supplanting the details rest only on her.
She is the unseen world within the world at best imagine her!
Such an inwardly open door indeed opens the door for nature
to vanish if she wants to at the sight of the whole matter
before the scientist on ultimate discovery nature can disappear!  

The land, the sky all can flower within her
can align with her down the rainbow on the high.
Her words can spread through like the smart cloud that flies far
over the lands and valleys but not even the wind none other
gets a sniff of the potion and melody it caries until it rains down
at the targeted place without a hurdle, she moves on far ahead
such a soul needs no after death lift from the angel of death.

Before Azrael Fathima loses the arc of the circle then and there
so not the earth but giant Azrael can take the pressure!
Marked by a fluid discharge since then she is cooling this moisture
In Shaa Allah God willing when she ajars it so it will be elixir, not fire!  

(5)
Draw a straight line, but it won't be perfect
it keeps bending, fly straight touching the sky
the flight path won't look like a straight line
it would be like the crest of a crescent moon
like curve touched the sky, like climbing up
atop the pyramid is not going high straight on
it goes up from the widespread seked slopes.

Like the stock market chart moves never
in straight lines but in a zigzag pattern.
Move big but start small, the golden ratio
is always 1.618 something is never the full 2
but gives the formula to design flawlessly on the go
from micro to macro level all the way to the true north!    

Fathima being the original feminine eyeing at her
she can tap in the knowhow of naturally feminine nature.
And discovers the immanent pattern - the world
is pre-designed and measured is never a coincidence.
The creatures' creativity, scientist's science
is to follow, discover working formulas like phi and pi.

Play along it works until an unknown hour strikes
comes with accurate knowledge dead on time
numerically correct never miss taking life away
as if it was calculated beforehand before the birth.
A newborn is born for a limited time
already set but no one knows when it goes up  
is a deadlock clock but it isn't so shrouded
in the blueprint of the creatures' grand design
there the clock ticks safe and sounds it never dies!  

(6)
Fathima hailing from the other side of the pool
eyes on the ever live pre-design side of the creation!
Then its corporeal face was only a water drop,
the primitive one looks see-through but dead zero
knowledge of its lively other side of the pool.
She comes closer and perfectly mirrors both sides
that shines through on her reflected face on the water.
An absolute new image that livens up the dead part
Bang - Big Bang! It gets the spark for the corporeal world
to explode out from the very first drop of the water!

The appearance of Fathima was miraculously instrumental
by the grace of God, it showed up the finite and infinite, 0 and 1,
future in the present and the death and life on the play!
Nature tends to follow suit it just saw the perfect role model
it moved big bang, but banged out only to its corporeal set!
A far cry from being at par symmetrical with its infinite reality
like the precursor image of it's Big Bang that it aspires to be!

Fathima leaves the door open elevating a perfect circle,
not a straight line, follows the pattern to take the variations
into account in the very first matter, the water drop.
She zooms in more into the abyss irrational portion
and aces the circle with her hair leaving a muslin fine
empty open zero at the starting point at the bottom.
The ocean of the pi digits, the DNA of all things material
banged out of it, still, the zero is numberless irrational!

(7)
All things, within oneself and in a set constantly vibrate,
strive to align with the enduring reality of itself.
The atom vibrates to reach out to its immortal proportion
that doesn't die and is in the know of its lower base.
The planets are in a defined circular orbit, accurately measured
just the apex on top of their dynamic pyramid the pyramidon
is tucked away; they too have an irrational portion in the circle.

With the finest spin, they zoom in the spacious universe,
in part and like the sun outside the constellations round they go
never miss a target line yet to re-discover Fathima's perfect circle
the origin of their digital essences' breakthrough
the door to their transcended destination de jour.
Lo the matter turns the last stone pulsing across the cosmos
the mortal horizontal spread, the spirit returns home.

The earth has a line in its swansong it has a place in paradise
it's not here to stay for good neither to perish forever!

Matters form and break without losing the rope,
it's not to paint the shades of the eternal blue.
There is just an irrational portion in the circle
at the heart of the earth, as above, so below.  
The deep the high the perfect circle
up and down the centre of gravitation for all!

At even and at odd the vibration within the matter is fluid
somewhere is parched there the arch matter must make a splash.
Far away on that dark beach, the full-fledged sea of the matters
outpours its billowy potion with the Moon on the frontline
the physical world's most glowed up firefly!

(8)
The seven seas swell up smoothly into the moonlight-dip
oh, the waterless Moon at the core is still fasting.
Led by the time the sweet swan punting along the waves
streams down the watery inner circle of the planets.
In the Moon, it's stuck no water in the last waterfront
where paradise is on the other side of the pool!  

The sun dips away into the night
bathing the horizon in shades of pink and gold,
the dazzling hues soon turn to taupe.
Drawing down painting the picture in full colour
only to find the time is up on the halfway,
yet to print a colour copy of the night!
The other unseen half is passed down to the Moon
tiptoeing in slow motion in the depths of the night
barely keeping the head afloat in a fathomless ocean
of shades of black hails from where knows none.  

The sun enkindles the moon half-lit keeping itself away
in the shadow as if comparing the shades now it knows
a mehrem a veiled female is ahead not to look on or
compared to that the sun has no light or true are both.

Wrapt in the eternal night beneath its black mole
once the moon on the front approaching most close
directly down to the centre of the earth eyes on
over that inlaid string hairy black perfect circle
never did it turn back the same gaze is still on
orbiting around the earth in synchronous rotation.

(9)
The never-ending night, becoming a night indeed
it's coming to an end so soon in our time.
In Shaa Allah I will see it with my eyes before I die
in the Night of Measures in an odd night in Ramadan
Fathima from the transcendental end of irrational heart
will turn on top of the curve opening for the first time
a 9-degree angle in the circle at the centre of the earth.

Instantly the leading force, time will get the first sniff
of the other world, so peaceful heart-melting serene.
Rapturous time feeling an ounce of the enduring peace
for the first time cutting all the corners with ease
will be propelled into its yet uncharted golden mean.
Scurrying to the peaceful abode time will be on its wings
across the globe, people will be stunned seeing
how first the times pass from then on incredibly quick!

Fathima, the first spiritual woman on duty, will start
pulling her hair back off the circle at the centre
Juxtaposed in between the worlds of here and hereafter.
She will take back every inch of it, the heavenly bodies
will feel the pinch of her every little subtle pull
that too will be a boon helping them perfect their circle.

(10)
Soon she opens it just 9-degree wide at first
the Moon will see a glimpse of the first drop of water.
Without it, it's living perched without the water of life
soon that's destined to rain down and the Moon
back into its original pond shall revive!
Mapping the pi's whole infinitesimals playground
finally, Fathima will turn the circle upside down
before the stunning sun rising in the western sky!

By now under Fathima's hair's shaded closed circle
it must have sailed far over the blue sky in the other world.
Billowing with the breeze over the sea of uncharted water
and stacking to the brim with all that it could discover
humbly stood like a cloud in that corner of the sky.

The time is finally ticking fast for it to rain down with love
as if paradise's welcoming schema rendered in waterpaint drops
for the Moon, the most glowed up firefly over the sea of matters
can sip in the water, at last, breaking its fast with elixir!
It's their heavenly adopted, Miʿrāj performed, primitive water.
The Moon with the seven seas will leave off the corporeal shell
gliding gracefully with this stately water nymph as if it never dies
and will make a splash plopping into the pond of paradise!  

For the matter ultimately is water and its extent is sound
Fathima will fetch it the water of life and take it to the next life!
Oh the matter shall do both die and revive with Israfil's sound
the cloud will fly out of the dead water on the ground,
like the earth with chorus songs of the rain revives.
When that a melodious nymph in the water makes waves
see paradise is here the Moon over the sea can't take off its eyes.

(11)
Hang on though they all set ready on their horizontal span  
to pull in such a fluid yet colourful descending like a rainbow swan.
First chaste Fathima will evaporate her hair's perfume away
that's yet lingering in the water warming it up to its premium
no crowd then can see where this heady, fragrant cloud will fly!
There are the momentum and delights where it well alight.

Israfil might then blow his trumpet swooning the world away
the secret will remain secret exception is noted in the Qur'an.
A strange sound will silence the chorus of the innate digits
collapsing the floating cosmos bubbling on their music.  
The corporeal circle will collapse as if there is no base no pi
the melody of the first word Qun means Be will still be loud
supercalifragilisticexpialidocious so how can we all expire?

Israfil too will play his reviving trumpet pure mellifluous
and In Shaa Allah numerically perfect Fathima will rise
amidst the resonant Qun as like she did in the beginning
when except prophet Muhammad (PBUH) there was nothing!
Now the earth once zeroed in beneath her hair will follow her
the stunned terra will discover Fathima took her hair away
only to shift the constellation up onto the upper world!

The old songs of the planets the chorus of the digits will revive
from the zero bases in the core the digital panache that dance
planet upon the planet as if they are always at the perfect hertz.

Indeed that is yet to come, the arts of the fine layers
opening from the irrational pi, the finest one is to flower
when Fathima will unloop her circled hair at the centre
piercing the very immanent irrational cut
that no creation can fathom only the loving creator
Allah will turn odd to even in between the here and hereafter
then the ocean stuck in deep salt shall turn to enduring potion!
The As-Sirat shall turn to be the bridge to paradise
the body shall revive with the enduring soul forever
and with ah Fathima couple shall enter paradise In Shaa Allah
with the rhapsody 'all praises are for Allah' Alhamdulillah!
Star BG Feb 2018
Today I shall get high on life.
To feel the energy of wind,
hear birds sweet song,
dance upon sacred Mother Earth.

Today I shall take the drug of life.
To be grateful for all that life brings.
shinning a light upon difficult
situations.

Today I shall move in my power
To feel connected to source energies
and all the invisible allies present
who come to my aid.

Today is the first day of the rest of my life
to align with higher self
moving with the grace of self.
skyle Inspired me with her poem Crave for Freedom
Candice Jul 2018
“And in that moment she was star struck. She looked with ocean eyes to a man with a crystal heart. She knew she could never have this man, for the stars did not align. Shooting stars tingle in the hearts of these lovers, yet meteorites crash inside of their brains.”
-Candice

© 2018
Wilted Seaweed Feb 2014
You helped me build the courage kiss you
And I'm so glad you did
Every time I think about our first kiss
This stupid smile spreads across my face
I get these butterflies like I've never had
And when I kissed you
All my worries were gone for a moment
And all there was is you and me
You kissed me for the second time tonight
And it was just as magical as the first
So will it be the same for the third?
The 50th?
The 1000th?
Im a confused little soul
Always depressed and awkward
But all I know for sure
Is I want to waste all my time with you
You make me feel worth something
And when I kiss you
Everything is right
The stars align.
Lost Apr 2014
I fell in love with a boy
whose smile outshined the stars in the night sky

I fell in love with a boy
who couldn't stop laughing
with the crinkles by his eyes
making him look older than he is

I fell in love with a boy
who had dreams
big ones too,
and the world was his oasis

I fell in love with a boy
who could make the saddest story
have a happy ending

I fell in love with a boy
and how lucky I feel
to have loved than never loved at all.
Tim Knight Oct 2012
Walk by numbers in
the Parisian palette ,
spreading the paint around
in a long line of lip red scarlet.
Pipette sized width following you
as you tread on stone, you’re new.
Sit with the trains and listen
to walls and notice small change,
loose change on the floors.
Passenger’s stare moves you from
carriage to carriage, regardless of UK, American baggage.
Surface again, the longest breath you’ve ever held
has escaped again into winter’s cold.
Steps climb and feet follow,
Anubis with a rifle watching over-
graffiti crowd control for the younger;
sad face, a smile face, Sacre Coeur white face.
Sink down along the track,
railway men hanging large and fat.
Tea for two with warm milk,
tea for two without the milk,
no tea- up and leave, tip with guilt.

**** kicker Paris scruffs her shoes
amongst the paint, the blues, the museum’s closed.
Again, we have to wait for the universe to align before we get to see her smile.
Wait, keep waiting, Mars is coming, revolving towards us.
Doors unlock and we enter a tide of tourist
and artist and the modernist futurist- lost in this department.
She sits there still, not smiling

Paris, without you no coffee would ever be deemed good.
Without you, I’d be lost and artless and heartless and broke.
Even when you take the covers from under me-
I’m still warm.
Arcassin B Sep 2015
By Arcassin Burnham

in the night time,
Until I align in the night time,
They'll never be another life time,
Where me and you once had,
But I come alive in the night time,
Its never completely staged in the
Night time,
Days where I would spend all of
My time,
With you,
No other pleasure could match,
Until I change in the night time,
Until I make a mends in the night time,
And every single day the light will pass,
Nothing ever last,
But the flowers in my garden do,
I see stars,
Is this kidding to you.
Drugs lll
Scarlet Keiller Jan 2018
Where is my language
and why can't I speak it?
It's being replaced
with a haze of Spanish eyes
and olive skin
casting shadows across itself
in the mid-morning sun.
I would be one
to remember the days
of what I could say,
words integrate,
binding my tongue to the roof of my mouth.
Colder, colder, migrating south,
hold my hand and tell me
it will be alright.
I wanted to know how the bird in flight
felt to have its feathers washed from its body,
how the decaying leaf
felt to be buried in snow.
And now all I want to know
is how it would feel
to be the world's smallest organism.
How it would feel to divide, divide,
roots so shallow I can't find my feet,
swept away by the smallest rush
of pins pushing against my body.  
How it would feel to be torn apart
in the name of science -
would I still be beautiful
if my ribs were inside out?
Would I still be beautiful
if my heart bloomed like the winter flower?
Would you love me if I could be anything,
a wasteland with a clear surface,
water being poured down the drain?
If I was a sequence,
the number of steps before the next system over,
would my DNA align just enough
to make me reflect you?
I'm hapless,
lethargic,
entirely theoretical,
and I'm counting the number
of substitutions I can make
before I no longer exist.
What will it take to wipe me away?
How many cells do you have to remove from my spine
before it is no longer my own?
I used to want to feel
the air breathing with me,
to know what it is
that makes the water love the earth so dearly.
Now all I want to feel
is soft skin on my hands,
the curve of my waist as I sleep,
the skin pale under the sheets,
beauty sighing from between my blue lips.
~~ Still going strong. ~~
Crucifix Feb 2015
Look at me. What do you see? A boy crying out for sanctuary? I morn only myself for the life I lead.
see I ware a mask to shelter the past. To keep thoughts away who do not plan to stay. It might be lonely it might be sad, but when I meet my reflection I know ill be glad. Where ever she is, where ever she may be, I know she wares a mask just like me. Together we will chase the bad guys away. Ill see her scars and she will see mine. Below our skin our hearts will align. I can't see her face yet but I know she's out there. The girl who carried my heart all my life. Through heartache and hatred and anger and strife.
And I will thank her for saving much more than my life.
The journey to love is often unkind to who follow. But every now and again you find someone worth the hardships along the road.
In lonely moments
I stroll the waning memories
when love pure smiled blissfully
deep within a fawning heart

a wistful melody arises untainted
like a steaming enslaved passion
                         breathlessly released
                              unrestrained,..

         ­                          evident
                    as the pressed and dried flowers
          cuddled between life's ardent petaled pages,
                         bookmarks of the heart

                         traces of the wild bouquets
                         that often soothingly caress’d
                         the energizing tingles  
                         inflaming a tantalizing touch

                         the yearning  empty voids
                         feverishly undressed,
                         traced in the hidden sands
                         of unexplored oceans..
                        
                         though time and distance
make the bereft heart grow helplessly fonder,
memories fade softly as the summer breeze befalls,
  
                         as gentle feather’d touch
                         the evanescent sunset afterglow
                         where the earth and sky align
                         the dimming of the day

         loving can heal
the poet’s bleeding words,
loving can mend your soul ―

                         the perennial dawning of an
                         unpromised new day
                         will someday come again

        bequeathed like the bluebird’s mirthful song
to bring forth nascent wild flowers’ blossoming petals
              flourishing in the meadow of my heart


                 *Someone you used to know
© March 2017
Thank you for reading
.
CeilingStar Jul 2018
I am Autumns baby

my bones align every Autumn season
I come alive, rising from the earthy soil
I'm Summers poison,
my blood all hazey sunsets and leaf mulch

It's just something about the way the dawn and dusk shaded leaves flutter delicately onto my bronze barked skin
and the way the forest breathes, shedding it's summer shroud of green, canopy now thin
anticipating the snarling undertow of winters frosty bite
how the branches twist their arms and fingers,
reaching up to the light,
sky as blue as my doe eyes

the sunsets are all for me, low and piercing,
using her fiery fingers to stroke my face
I dance naked with the birds, the trees and the sun, a blur of grace

I'm all variations of brown, with the occasional pop of green
my lungs house my earth and its flower children, in my rib cage built of twigs with a magic sheen
my hair cascades like a molten copper mess
I'm a reflection in a lake, beautiful crystal but a construct you cannot caress

luke warm, barren branches and burning peat
crows, shimmering sunsets and crunchy leaves under your feet

I am Autumns darling

KG
Its something about the earthy air, I feel it deep in my bones
Leslii Carling Apr 2011
I want to hold you and kiss you
And never let you go.
I want to keep you, and protect you,
Just so you know.

I want to make you shiver
And fall apart in my hands.
I want to soothe you when you quiver
And show you great lands.

I want to fall asleep with you in my arms
And I want to kiss you awake.
I want to make you fall for my charms,
Even though I’ll burn the pancakes.

I want to wrap you up in great black wings,
And kiss every inch of your skin.
I want to show you the beauty in things
And have you meet all of my kin.

I want to come home and see you beam,
When all I want to do is cry.
I want to close my eyes and see you in my dream,
And I never, ever want to say goodbye.

I want to get on one knee
And give you a golden ring.
I want to make you feel free
And I want to hear you sing.

I’m so, so in love with you,
I wish I could say it more.
Tell me what I can do,
Don’t let me be a bore.

I give you my sword and my heart,
I give you my armor and wings.
You are a work of art
To be desired by kings.

In the end though, you’re mine
Just as I am yours.
With you I align,
And for you, I’ll fight wars.
Written for the beautiful girl I've fallen so very hard for.

Don't steal.

— The End —