"becons" poems
A spiral
A staircase
A long fall
How ever you decend it's always down,
Never do we see the light before we go,
It's forever darkness,
Never do we know what waits for us,
We think we know,
We hope we know,
Never do we get a chance to change our minds,
It's there it's easy once you've made the distance to get there.
What ever we do we decend,
I won't romanticise it it's not a decision we should make yet we do,
I won't tell you to stop because that will push you even harder than before because hell what do I know.
But I will say is this:
My mind is my prison
My body the vehicle I use
My soul the fuel
The decent my escape
Every morning it is there
Every night it welcomes me like a lover
Every time I close my eyes it becons to me
Every time I get up it threatens to pull me down
Yet I stand strong
Resting on the edge
Like running a knife across my throat hard enough to bite but not bleed
A damgours game to feel alive
To feel at all
A decent into darkness
A game we play alone
Aug 9, 2018
Aug 9, 2018 at 8:26 AM UTC
DISTURBIA
HYSTERIA
FOLDED
ROLLED IN THE BACK
OF MY EYELIDS FLUTTERED BY HAIL
BUT MY EYES DON'T BLINK
DRIED LIKE CONCREAT CRACKED
OPEN
FROM TEARS OVERDONE READNESS
CONTAGIOUS
IN MOUNT OLYMPUS
PALE LIKE COCAIN
IT CONTAINS YOU
LIKE EVAPORATION
I CRAWL WHILE I
SLURR THE LIFE OF MY EYES
LIKE
CHECKING ON INTO IMMAGRATION
BOBB MY HEAD BACK
AND TWIST OPEN THE CAP OF EVERY BLOOD FLOW BEHIND THE SOCKET
AND IT GOES
IT FLOWS
LET GO
LOOSE LIKE A **** TO HER KNEES
PLEASE YOU
ME
INTO YOU
INTO ME
IN MY EYES
STAY OPEN
CAN'T PUT THEM
TO SLEEP
AND SHEEP DON'T COME ROUND HERE NO MORE AND MY SIGHT KEEP SEEING METEPHORES
OF HUMOR FORMING
INTO EVERY TRICK PLAYING OPTICAL ILLUSION
YOU WERE
...AN ILLUSION
CREATING MADNESS
AND THE CORE OF MY HAIR ROOT RAISNG SKIN DEEPINING ICE BURGE SKIN FROZEN
THE BECONS ABOUVE THE SKULL TOP SPITTIN OUT PELE'S LAVA MELTING BURNING
TEARING APPART
THIS MASSACRE OF MY HEART
AND I AM LEFT TO HARVEST
HARBOR
WHAT'S LEFT OF THE UGLINESS IN MY EYE
(INCREDIBLE INK- TEAM JAGUAR HAWAII )
© Copyright 2014 S.T. Parish CSP Rebel of Eden
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 2:53 AM UTC
In this savage land we call home
There is a pastoral valley that has the richest texture of heaven
This treasured sheep gate becons tenderly says welcome
These hills and slopes the repository of our hopes
The savior poised in their gentle steeps, for the city weeps
Sweet spirit that fills this natural expanse soft as the breeze
Each tired weary soul you refresh with a quiet hush
We are shown the wisdom of not being in a rush
Unseen pillars tower revealing your mighty power
Written on the pillars at the world side is come unto me
On the church side seek the lost at any cost
The Devil expresses defiance the church makes Heaven her alliance
Wayward souls tormented seeking an oasis dying of thirst
Today we fill these pots of clay and determine to go out of our way
Seeking those that hunger and thirst by this Christ we manifest
To the world the church is ghostly not completely visible
It shimmers as though it isn’t real blindly they feel about
In your life they find solid ground clear of the mist
They finish a terrible journey now they feed from all their needs freed
No longer exhausted from continually milling about
The Sheppard stands holy watch and cast a confidant shadow
In this respite feeding and richly nourished they grow strong
Gladness quietly cascades from spiritual hills of splendor
Apr 30, 2014
Apr 30, 2014 at 6:11 PM UTC
Flames burn where there is no fire, when one loves but lacks desire.
The racing hearts that fire the blood, only to make one night of lust.
When fingers twisted and palms held tight.
When sighs are murmured and souls ignite.
When shouts of pleasure fill a room, Is it love or lusts soulful tune.
When abscent from you do you feel your heart race?
Your heart goes faster as you see their face.
A photograph of one not there.
Does that define how much you care?
When no word from them is spoken, when silence is all you have.
Is that when its over, if it ever began.
So who you think of reading this, is that the face you long to kiss.
Is that the soul that draws to you, becons, calls, oh please be true.
If there again when you awake, that picture in your mind again.
Then did you tell them?
Do they know?
Another day, lost alone.
So seize the day the cold cliche that's yelled as men go into battle
Is no longer what our souls need, this fights more nocturnal.
Embrace the night and hold her tight, If only in your dreams.
For when you wake the daylight brings the dawn of many things.
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 4:20 PM UTC
Shadow of Eden
In this savage land we call home
There is a pastoral valley that has the richest texture of heaven
This treasured sheep gate becons tenderly says welcome
These hills and slopes the repository of our hopes
The savior poised in their gentle steeps, for the city weeps
Sweet spirit that fills this natural expanse soft as the breeze
Each tired weary soul you refresh with a quiet hush
We are shown the wisdom of not being in a rush
Unseen pillars tower revealing your mighty power
Written on the pillars at the world side is come unto me
On the church side seek the lost at any cost
The Devil expresses defiance the church makes Heaven her alliance
Wayward souls tormented seeking an oasis dying of thirst
Today we fill these pots of clay and determine to go out of our way
Seeking those that hunger and thirst by this Christ we manifest
To the world the church is ghostly not completely visible
It shimmers as though it isn’t real blindly they feel about
In your life they find solid ground clear of the mist
They finish a terrible journey now they feed from all their needs freed
No longer exhausted from continually milling about
The Sheppard stands holy watch and cast a confidant shadow
In this respite feeding and richly nourished they grow strong
Gladness quietly cascades from spiritual hills of splendor
Jan 7, 2012
Jan 7, 2012 at 2:52 PM UTC
The pearly gates wideopen
bang goes the drum,
Ring is the fever of the pitch
The bell becons me home
Standing at the face of the dust covered elders
Our wispers sing into decades unbound
Winding up the gentle moss
The northern prayer echoes
Mighty drums mighty lungs
We howl and we yelp from our remembered chambers
Sketching our way thru the vivid lansdscapes
We pause, we sit we see
Breath in the great mother
For her arms await our hurried Souls
Cracking pine rustling trees
We look in awe toward the stars
Today comes another dawn
Tonight brings a golden sunrise
For creator within writes home
Oct 2, 2014
Oct 2, 2014 at 1:09 AM UTC
Every now and then I see her face
Eyes a carmel caress just like before.
Never been in that way before or since.
I have looked in many faces, nothing
Made me ache and melt.
I could look into her eyes endlessly
I swear, and lose myself .
I wonder if she knew
I was afraid to say
On the chance that it woud change.
When she spoke I hungered for her eyes
When she laughed I hungered for her eyes.
They so mezmerized. I hungered for that too.
Those eyes are gone and closed
I last saw them crying.
She turned and walked away.
What a fool
What a fool in youth.
In dreams I see them slowly dying
Shuttered windows.
The dreams they left me.
Many years have past.
I know my slice of hell exist
In living out my days to miss
Those eyes will never hold me near
Will never be again
Never be my friend
Never hold me.close.
And carress.
My purgatory burns
Softly and becons.
Jun 4, 2013
Jun 4, 2013 at 11:04 PM UTC
Here is the world, under a bleeding moon, silver as the demons songs of the bamboo groves
It sings and dances the eons away, blissfully ignorant to the horrors that happen around
It has the mind of a child, it sees the world with the sun as a beacon of hope, but it only becons chaos
Here is the world, as a yawning dog in the eves of summer, awareness thin to the quagmire spinning eternally
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 5:14 PM UTC