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Astral May 2015
I live in a forest of fallen sunflowers, old and wise, they speak to me of the days gone by

When the sun sets among the wilderness blaze, they tell me night is befalling, and I must make my departure

They tell of decades ago, how they’ve watched as humans lived their lives, most rotten in nature

They spoke of the one that used to tend to them, how gracious and kind, how pure and warm

For the sunflowers spoke with melancholy, for they knew that their former caretaker was well gone

So for a moment they wept their tears of seeds, and sung soft melodies of their former caretaker

They spoke to me and warned of the evils of humanity, how they were too once the victim of the evil

They asked why humans destroyed what’s beautiful around them, why they wish to sabotage what keeps them breathing


But they spoke to me and said I was a rare human, one that had good intention, and a sensitive heart

As night began to fall, I left the forest of sunflowers, carrying their tearful seeds

To spread as I walked away, to maybe rejoice and create life once more

The forest I hope will remain tomorrow, that it stands the test of time
Stephan Jul 2016
.

Watching the rise and the fall of a kingdom
Walls once rebuilt again tumble the ground
Allowing the beasties free reign in the village
Bellowing out o’er the wickedest sound

Pacing the streets, seeking out bits of garbage
Leaving their stains on the innocent few
Leering in windows where children are hiding
Tender young things and so easy to chew

Thieves in the night lurk about come the morning
Stealing the sun at the break of the dawn
Drinking of sewage a’ flow in the gutters
Checking off names as the many are gone

Peering ‘round corners, down alleys, in shadows
Seeking the favor of all who do grieve
Laughing in spite of the torment now growing
Licking their lips in the hope you believe

Roaming in groups so the followed outnumber
Say what you will for the king does not hear
Lost in his throne made of mirrors that flatter
Shivering, cowering, caving to fear

Deaf to the villagers asking for reason
Blind to the pillage befalling this land
Dumb, well I guess that just goes without saying
Nary a care what the people demand

Feasting on turkey, potatoes and gravy
Raising a glass to the enemy proud
Taking a stand against those who support him
Locking the front doors while yelling aloud

“Carry your torches, your pitchforks, your honor
It matters not for this evil shall win
Even when gone there are echoes of anger
Lingering on till they come back again

Give them your all, what you’ve poured your heart into
Down on your knees, bow to them one and all
Step over rock and the piles of rubble
This castle will stand even when the walls fall

Shout all you like as no change is forthcoming
Accept it or flee, you think I give a ****
When you are gone many more will replace you
Now pass those peas and a slice of that ham”


So roam the beasties, their teeth ever sharpened
Fanning the flames as so many are burned
Tearing apart what the people envisioned
Silly to think that they somehow had learned

Nothing so happy with no ever after
Always the same, it will happen again
But unlike some other long winded stories
Sadly in this I can not say “the end”

Watching the rise and the fall of a kingdom
Walls once rebuilt again tumble the ground
Thankfully I can peruse from a distance
Witnessing all without hanging around
Daylight 4U2C May 2014
The iron drips from my fingers.
The man gives out a yell.
The child launches, she launches at me.
Sadly her launch had failed.
I chuckled at her, with no pity.
Her frightened face, what a laugh.
The person she’s crying for isn't worth dying for.
After all,
he was a bad man.
It’s funny, so funny, funny the fact.
The fact, she thought if she grabbed my neck then,
maybe, just maybe, maybe I’d die.
I laughed again and finally, I gave out a sigh.
“Poor child,” I said my voice left unchanged.
“You misunderstood. I shouldn't be ashamed.
Your idol has done so many bad things,
now he’ll pay for his sins of adultery,
in a place which this blind man cannot see.
She fell to the ground befalling her tears.
This was the end of her happy years.
What? Did she think it was a fairy tale life?
Reality is sharp, just like a knife.
I laughed at the fact I took his life,
with just one swing of my most dull scythe.
Sa Sa Ra Dec 2012
If you don't by know as of yet whom
I refer to as __,
you will soon enuf;

It is rare that I can go there so well, even on occasion for the destructive,
5th dimensional gifts running backwards, Houdini by grave doing back-flips,
for along with the Heart's of David Copperfield types wanting to know how,
can we pick up a few of these tricks, in other lifetimes my type picked up many,
places along of course through Kemet's of Egypt, and not so far back but,
is where I had to go on the endless effort of trying to find the magical child,
already gone by first of memories and I thought woot hoot I could juggle,
the woes of humanity or inhumanity as I see know, you know by;

justification of I don't see any more or less innocence or guilt,
round here but if there is such a great need when I saw it,
and figged I cud get through it, it was love for what else,
could there be and I do, be and fill so much very need;

but X'yzz....ah 'um once there was Shakespeare,
an era wrapping up by befalling heads wanting bread,
of whom exclaimed well if those are their terms and conditions,
'Let'em eat cake' ergo and or our newer foundations; but as far as,
I knew it and I wondered and pondered how why wherefore before,
someone who seems projective of who dare be Queen or Princess,
more than aristocratic, the vine of genetics, KISS keep it simple silly,
why war for this nonsensical stuff;

it's not the decadent decedent's,
but off Divine Spirit;

well money power sure can keep well hidden powers and you can,
hmmm get along for a spell but here a spell there a spell with each castle,
Humpty Dumpty oh well;

but now again is the Globe again along with Life,
the stage we are cast upon truly;

it's time for our own era's Renascence;

but last I knew them truly with all gifts 5th dimensional they and their darkly companions,
too now here they are onto years unmentionable, still can't honor it and I guess they,
just want death, not more than one way about it, they will try to out wait and hate;

hahaha,
but by me I've taught them all they know and no matter who they turn against me,
10k in a court room dey'd not dare a step by one in however remember Howard Hughes,
I would say I do always love and though too I am the one and only and best friend indeed,
even though I know I am the enemy, no matter what they say believe think and even feel,
but I love to play nice like thrice no mines about it,
giving all overly good information,
fairer than fair warnings;

they gather darkly more into about their hypnotic spells castings, kinda crazy all dead set against me, when last to save their own ***'s, there were some identity issues and class type things but they were, known as good in the end and yet we have yet again to begin;

'dey don't know themselves not even by here now this lifetime alone,
black art denialists wooing all about with sugary treaty's they bark bark,
but if they bit the wrong cat here to hard their teeth would fall out;

yet and the roots seeded here now for the better part of the show with new,
edit-eers producers rolling arts in, I know, I will, I can, I see these things always,
before they appear and blood bearing beings near on, ain't willing give or take,
some where and the billions of years the dust rocks and trees already are on;

all kinds of well you know, what we've got going round now along with a time,
to come from the woods of our hidings and out from the fear to be gods birth right,
citizens we played a lot of silly games of peeka boo pretend,
ain't heaven ain't here the list is long,
we know all to well
Keith J Collard Aug 2012
I had a forest tryst
with Amanita,
after it rained,
I went to see her.

Dank and slain,
suited to decompose:
her bed; and as I sank--
in ballet bare-toe
the white angel arose.

She was flawlessly pale,
and 'round her neck,
still, a wedding veil.

She slipped the straps 'round her neck,
befalling her gown at my request,
she slowly turned in place,
for her suitor to inspect,
never did comely beauty,
on Jerusalem bedeck,

On her head sat,
a white knit -cap,
to it her veil was attached,
I could not gaze on her form,
till I got past this piece she worn.

I asked my love,
to doff her bridal wear.
" My love, my groom
wears my chastity belt round my hair."

Then I could not resist,
I brought the veil up,
and gave her a kiss,
a gentle curse,
she spoke to my lips,
in great thirst I sipped,

Alas, then I saw the ring,
she pulled back,
and deep in my eyes she looked in.
through her gown
in the mire I started to sink,

I felt her gown moving through me,
with the poison of her Gothic beauty.
On her spectral white,
not even the fly alights,
I commit suicide twenty times over,
by taking a bite.

She smiled to my fear,
in her eyes, heaps of bones,
and whispered in my ear,
to whom she was betrothed.
"death"
A distant man with distant heart

Kept her, a fallen Angel, in a cage

Never would he let her be seen

But every night he visited her

Entranced by her naked beauty



Fallen from grace I now linger

Utterly spellbound by my captor

Veiled, remaining in the shadows

Untouchable – Quite vulnerable

Entangled, I shall never break free



Her thoughts within his head

He wants to take her, desire her

But afraid to surrender to lust

Always watching her, needing her

This dark Angel of hidden mystery



Clueless I am where this will lead

I can feel from afar a deep longing

Yet, I am mystified with every move

Hoping for a sign to appease my soul

To not have fallen from grace in vain



Oh, how I wish to know his thoughts

If it is not at all a dream within a dream

On the edge I now stand – so insecure

As I tread these waters ever so lightly

Frightened to awaken to a harsh reality



No longer can he resist the urge

Opening the cage and takes her

She does not resist, welcomes him

He penetrates deep into her soul

Both lost in the art of experimentation

She takes all he gives and wants more



Over and over again, they have their way

Never has she surrendered before like this

He cannot match to her satisfaction

As he fears her, the Angel of Death

Knowing she will never age, never die



He knows she longs to keep her

Wanted her forbidden lover,

these emotions are unexpected

He will always be her temptation,

now he leaves but forgets to lock the cage



Never in my darkest of desires did I dare,

surrender in total abandonment of my soul

I long for more, but my captor now eludes me

Should I escape, there shall be no going back

So here, I linger awaiting his return in my arms…



II



In the darkest of my secret desires
It becomes unsettling as time passes
The silence of these days and nights
As I wait, longing for my beloved


I become lost, in a loving memory
Yearning to become alive anew
As only, he can touch my soul
Ever so profoundly, in every touch
Soaring in abandonment – awakened


I cannot envision a life without love
Since the day I have fallen from grace
I was dually blessed and then cursed
As I am alone in the mind’s memoirs
Awaiting the break of unbearable silence


Years have passed him by
His youth seems fading away
Still she is as fresh as before
From the first moment he captured her
Now he watches her from the shadows

Remembers the sweet feel of her flesh,
the sensation of her kisses of nectar
He never locked the cage, she stayed
She yearns for him each and every night
But now he finds himself too afraid

For he is only mortal, she is Eternal
An Angel of Death fallen in love
If only he dared to approach her
Take her now in a fury of lust,
could she still crave this withered shell?


Penetrating the stillness of the night
I can hear a voice, long thought astray
I can feel the blood pulsating in my veins
As I cry out for my beloved to come anew
Even as times passes, nothing has changed


Though my wings have has been clipped
As I had fallen into forbidden temptation
I remain the same, though he has now aged
I care naught for appearances, as in my eyes
It is the pureness of his heart, which lures me


I cannot help but wonder where he dwells
Grasping unto faith, that he shall return
Accepting, with no remorse of what was
Surrendering to this love, I so freely offer
United as one being, forever without end


He dares to approach her once again
Long ago he felt no love in his soul
But she has changed how he once was
An ancient naked body, he now offers
To this beauty that smiles to welcome him


He responds to the gentle touches she gives
Feeling like a young man again, once more
Lovers in this night of forgotten shadows,
daring to surrender to desires of the flesh
Allowing two hearts to be now, as one


Then he feels the agony within his chest
Age has taken a toll for a moment to cherish
He holds her as she trembles, knowing
The last thing he sees are an Angels tears
As in the final moments, he dies in her arms


After waiting for so long, it seems cruel
Befalling such heartfelt sorrow, losing
Once again my beloved, as destiny rules
Fallen from grace, atonement must be paid
Pleading now for redemption for my sins


I know there is no going back to paradise
As I have found heaven, here earthbound
It is now within my power, to make amends
Bestowing my love upon those in dire need
Finding peace in the light of loves true gift


A state of a higher power that takes hold
Ruling now these days, that comes forth
Nevermore in the darkest of my desires,
as I find the strength within to arise anew
In moving on, with all of my heart and soul


Copyright © 1/2013 Lucy Martins/Chris Smith

All poetry by Lucy Martins/Chris Smith are copyright protected by International Copyright Law, the use without written permission is illegal. All Rights Reserved ©
anshika gehani Jan 2021
I tend to romanticize, 
I romanticize friendships and love and all relations,
Makes them a little more than what they seem,
Doesn't it?
And maybe that's what the flaw of romanticizing life is,
Once you start romanticizing it you ignore the practicality,
That the real-life beholds,
One part of you stuck at the expectations,
And other tries to avoid the befalling of this little kingdom,
Your mind survives in,
So you romanticize bad memories too,
As if you were really dead every second someone scolded you,
Or crumpled your ***** of life,
And in this loop of romanticizing, you end up hurting everyone,
So you tell yourself to wake up,
You force yourself to be awake,
And when you finally are,
You see there never has existed a premise,
Where you were playing your orchestra.
It feels to me the world I live in is crumbling down and I am washing away with it.
Hal Loyd Denton Apr 2013
This great white wolf made for traversing wilderness giving it the most identifiable sound for its
Wild uncompromising soul beautifying the night wind adding an extra chilling effect but giving
Unspeakable comfort too it tells of freedom and possibilities latent in us all but he is reduced to
Confinement in a small enclosure pitifully no larger than a small yard his is a life sentence with
All these noble creatures that is at hand what would be so awful to set him free after five
Years and replace him with a kit a lot of his five years would be in youthful play and when he
Did mature and the wear begins then repeat the action we ourselves have and experience this
Fate we have a great white pure spirit that longs to be masterful but our eyes and the things we
See deface and scar our opportunities that are innumerable but dark bars hold us in pens their
Shadows show on our fleece that is white as snow there is the outward physical blackness but
Of the greatest sadness it burrows into the sacred hidden places of the mind this is a tether
Most cruel but outwardly we convulse with misery but can’t clearly identify why misery and
Sadness hounds us without end we all desire love but we practice selfishness and try by greed
To use others to give us what we think will make us happy what darkness grips us what light
Would be found and we would emerge from deep pits if we understood giving helping others is
Where satisfaction out weighs gold and its benefits are perpetual well being to making the soul
Gleam as white as brightest day and this will not become cankerous and subtly start to shrink
Your heart to bitter ridicule of your own self you can go forth groaning or singing blackness
Befalling you at every turn or your heart will be leaping over fast moving streams that have
Depths of joy they rush over your feet and then swirl upwards from your feet all through your
System until your head is invigorated and swimming bestowing on you pleasure your heart will
Leap like a hart you truly will be the envy and guide to others that you unsuccessfully sought at
Other times in devious ways and you were so misguided you were plagued with a unreachable
Denseness you fight with such fervor but it cost the loss of everything but by simple obedience
And surrender to the much over looked and demeaned golden rule all it asks is love your
Neighbor as yourself what a healthy and wise statement love yourself without restraint now
Just go and double it by giving the same consideration to your fellow man and then vanquish  
The darkest and most powerful restraints by confessing I see deaths grip it has perfected traps
That are mine alone and it is not in our power that we can break free but His power is without
Equal why should I languish in this black dungeon when on white wings as an eagle is my true
Potential I was made to fly in bluest skies and to match the cool moist clouds I was made to
Make a show only to be sky bound not locked in myself and become hidden by my black
Outlook that obscures what love I am capable of

Bonus
Imperfections
The kindest evidence the savior passed was the marks he bestowed in the most gentile articulation in this
His wise choices matched imperfection to our needs. One of the most telling attributes of women can be
Her hands but what if they are slightly marred the grace only flows to a deeper level quickness is
Replaced by deliberate action slower more thoughtful and profound a touch placed with this kind of
Feeling goes to a measure instantly felt it is not just the ordinary but a thing of force that unravels
Trouble mysteriously it finds the hidden knots looses them allows love to flow wide and full. Perhaps a
Man no longer strides with a power that has an assurance maybe he is depended on a stick for support
Where power is diffused it only changes channels it makes the heart stronger the eyes feel it too
Humanity in others is recessed the blunder the self efficiency drains from boisterous streams into calm
Assessment a flow that harnesses possibility not vain bravado that can at times wound those who are
Weaker and that are struggling. If times try men’s souls then imperfection can be a clarion call the
Placement of virtue at the lead where sometimes pride is the driving force this writing came from seeing
A woman walking in a sunny scene and she had a blotchy spot on her arm others could observe this and
Be to one degree or another repulsed but to the man who loves her it is a special calling card it
Touches makes the forces revel in a display that sets her apart from all others an instrument of sound
That separates from the den isolates carries a marker that generates tenderness, esteem, and honor
Thou art the tune and sound of a masterful violin play nothing else in my presence nothing else will do
Your imperfections makes another whole don’t ever fret over your special make up it is the breath and
The visitation of the divine in the human form boldly brushed in the shadow perfected by sun light
Nickols Aug 2014
Look me in the eyes and tell me I am not already dead.
Look within my soul and tell me, all is finally at an end.
Look with your silver eyes, which reflect my very own.
A chaotic wind right before the deadly storm.
The redden horizon, fading into the coldest of blue.
A will of a way, left to burn within the goodwill of our mortal souls.

I see you Dear Brother...
A man shroud in the facade of a devils red clothing.
But men, we are not...
Are we, O brother of mine?
Two hidden lies, masked within a mould of our own demise.
A shell our mother has bestow upon her demon spawns.
Masqueraded truths smeared, until all came crumbling down.

I spoke of my hatred as I slipped from your grasp.
I fell into Hell with a malevolent wrath,
a curse befalling my tongue;

I hate you

Another lie, another sin.
Added to a pile of our transgression,
shadowing us in its path of our own destruction.

Look into my heart and see my love.
A love, which has not commenced into something dark and malcontent.

Look and see another me, (mirrored in your stare.)
Look and believe all is fine.
Look and tell me my blue coated wrath,
is nothing compared to the inferno of a burning Dante
while playing the part of your savior, Virgil.

Two souls, forever intertwined.
Both born under the sacred son,
but destined to fall under baited spikes.

When will there be rest, O Brother?
With my blade in your chest?
Or the indirect request of your blessed reprieve?

Look, before all is too far gone...
nigh is the time,
Look and you might just see...
Me.
but alas just yet,
maybe,
you shall see a piece of yourself as well.
A story of two brothers, twisted and torn. One Red, the other blue! They love each other but alas  they hate. Its a sad story. One not for the feint of heart! A love, unlike any other.

Two brothers, twined together in fate,
For ever more
424

Removed from Accident of Loss
By Accident of Gain
Befalling not my simple Days—
Myself had just to earn—

Of Riches—as unconscious
As is the Brown Malay
Of Pearls in Eastern Waters,
Marked His—What Holiday
Would stir his slow conception—
Had he the power to dream
That put the Dower’s fraction—
Awaited even—Him—
I'm a man of my actions, and not just my words
As more and more seem to fail to be
Although there are still those who still shine a light
In the darkness, just the same as I
But sometimes my actions cannot support words
I've spoken in deepest sincerity
For circumstances that so plague my life
Prevent them from showing through distance and time
I hope that you see that this tragedy is mine
Even more so than it falls upon you
In a world where so many talk without walking
My words are but all that can show how I feel
I wish that this life would so kindly incline
To release me from losing before I lose you
For every tragedy that keeps befalling
Keeps so many dreams that I cherish unreal
I wish I could be so much more than I am
I'm afraid I am all that I will ever be
Be it lover or friend, I am still by your side
No matter what this unfair life will allow
I wish I were there by your side, hand in hand
Through your darkness and light, any way I could be
Although I am here, I hope my words confide
That if actions could be, I'd be there with you now
Sa Sa Ra Dec 2012
Oh I do distinguish,
What is the ALL;

We inwardly receive,
Knowing truly;

Beyond the painful,
stories we numerate;

Which are often,
Yes painful horrific;

Yet when the love,
Beauty we all know;

Crystallizes,
clearly within;

We are empowered,
All great gifts whereby then,
Painful needs are mete with instant;

Response;

Not one doubt,
Second thought;

We are all,
Highly and acutely aware,
most sensitive too;

As the evolved beings we are;


We are the Holy Grail;

Moving the mountains;

Of the impossibilities,
Only we have already created therefor;

We are the vessels dissolving,
Mountains  back into the sea;

Of infinite possibilities;

Whereby this infinite,
Sea of love though not seen;

In blinding light,
Of our more limited,
Consciousness;

Deep gifts;

Of our commonalities,
Make the painful numerations;

All the more beautiful;

Upon Our;

God Given commonality!!!!

Therefore the fearful snake,
Firstly hissing;

Transmutable in the laughing;

Joy;

Highly developed;

Golden Wisdom;

Sans;

Any doubt,
Lest we forget;

Hard worked for,
Well earned lessons;

Thank you!!!

Eve, Lilith!!!

ALL!!!


We are ready;

Already free;

Freeing;

The almighty;

Tantric,
Holy breeze!!!

Always,
More willing;

Yearning,
What is good;

More,
LOVE!!!

Giving!!!
Receivable!!!


I call,

Welcome!!!!

Thee Eighth of Days;


*Whereby fore;


Food!!!!

For,

Our bodies and souls;

NEED!!!
LOVE!!!
DESERVE!!!
WANT!!!!


INHERENT­LY!!!
KNOWN!!!



All,
Available;


HERE!!!
NOW!!!


ALREADY!!!
PREPARED!!!


In an instant;

BEFALLING!!!
ALL!!!

OF ALL!!!
FOR ALL!!!

\                 /
HEARTS
LOVE

/            \
KNOW
NOT
\    /
B
O
N
D
A
G
E

!
!
!
.
.
.
\/
.
.
.
S
a

S
a


L
O
V
E

!
!
!
CJ M May 2016
Winter cherries
My heart is one of warmth and color, but a rarity in all aspects.
Like winter cherries
Sweetheart swarms in sudden bursts of imagination, stopping my heart and purifying the air with each breath she takes.
Never has the silence sounded so sweet as when it comes from her.
Never has invisibility been so noticeable as when she does it.
Never will I be able to share or distribute such a purity as she has.

Her chill is so obvious that there are no boundaries to the conversations we inaugurate. We ride the waves of giggles and chuckles that we form, playful arguments made and led into deeper conversations never finished.
I love the way we converse like buddies yet everything about us speaks of distant strangers. I wonder does she feel the same.
It’s something in the way her voice shakes or the way her eyes dart through mine when she looks at me. It’s something about the way she smiles in a way that shows she’s fighting it.
It’s her personality
It’s who she is.
And I’m shocked to say that I’m being struck down by her energetic placidity.
I wonder more about her than any other possible that I’ve ever known. I think of what she’s like and how she’d treat me if she knew me more. I wonder what I look like in her mind and what I look like out of her mind as well. I wonder how much she thinks about me, if at all. And the only answer I get is that of cherries in calmed snowstorm
Stems filled with white crystals as light as air itself when alone, yet at the collected fruit they weigh tons.
Falling in slow motion as the last crisp it could bare falls to a rest on its ruby red outer shell.
Frozen in air as I walk past and see it. Only wondering how long it should stay before it succumbs to the inevitability of gravity.
And her voice cracks my concentration.
It falls.
But no noise shall it make, it shall stay as quiet as the snow itself and remain a music in my mind.
The befalling of her voice
The falling of winter cherries.
Can I write you a rhythm
To remind you of your scandalous beauty
That have tamed many men falling for you like a magnet
The sweet that you are is the pain that they have
Their sobbing hearts want you alone will they fit in one heart of yours
Release them ***
Your fortune against their desire

Injured soldiers to just one general
A heart of she that bears the greatest of smiles
Those in denial of her live longer as her beauty is a beast claiming souls
For if am weak take me too, the paradise of feeling your blood flow
The moments you make life worthy
The second you are a dream come true

Slain by your wonders
Your hands breed temporary heaven
See the rise of men only to fall by your side
Their strength to find you, weakness of befalling with you
Hammn my hamming guts the same pain they are left with is my desire to reach and taste
Must I be a hero in this, if I must fail I too befall along side her
The glory claim.....ahem them the men rose as soon as they fell
Poetic T Nov 2017
As I asserted my standing, slowly like sheep being herded
to a cliffs edge. They were each fading in painfully
hostile silence.. Have you seen something knowing that
this time no matter what, there isn't another existence
there is just obliteration of all there essence..

It was like candles being blown out by a chainsaw,
but a candle bled in a form of censorship.
With me though there ending crept through me
like I was feeling every torn filament undoing.
These picture once idyllic, but they were more
notable of what was befalling them and they ran.

Well not ran, the better word would be phasing
from one place to another, but the end result was
the same, a snow storm of embers fell around me.
So beautiful were the shades of each collection.
The aura a little different around each one that
was falling within me, but it was getting to much to
handle so many memories tearing through me.

I looked at the surroundings, it like autumn
leaves setting in snow, vivid emotions seeping
beneath my subconscious, I could see every
moment till that final breath... everyone was
so cold though, that last lingering moment of
fear gnawing within me like paper cuts writing
nothing but expressing everything in nothingness.

I had accumulated so many endings, such sorrow,
some happiness that the lingering moments were
fading. But this garden of white roses was being
blemished, consumed from within. I could still
see these things clinging beneath the surface..

"One with the will to live,
                   must first except the will to die,


"Our first inhale,
                     is exhaling the breath
that will eventually be
                         the last motion we do before death"


Then as this thought progressed through me,
I started to remember things of before?
              before I was a human popsicle.
There were so many machines, so much death
paused in its final exhale. Faces in slumber,
flowers painted around this garden of oblivion.

I looked around, and the bricks of conscious
memories were corroding no longer ethereal,
what was formed now seemed to have vines
collecting within them, contorting what was
pure. I gathered my presence and heeded that
what ever was consuming this place.

"Roses wilt not because
                 of time,
          but they sense the fading of love,



These thoughts were gaining pace in my subconscious.

"Memories are some time better
                       left under the carpet
sometimes we can sweep pain away,


I started convulsing, then once again regained
my composure. was this me or the memories that
we ashes in my mind. From others now fluttering in
this garden of oblivion, that now heeds its name sake
so very well.

The shadows were now surrounding others like
sharks tasting that scent of blood, but here I think
it was fear..
I noticed that the vines were echoing, I slight pulse
of aura permeated from them. In my ignorance of
staring a shadow had lingered upon the painting
of my feet and within a moment a searing pain
collected within. this was it as I started to flake away...

But then it was not me it was the shadow becoming
fixated on me and then cracks illuminated from it and
what was once a lingering gaze of quite a stature...

"What the hell was going on??

It looked at me in vacant gratitude, then saw the shades
lingered upon it and once again ash fell, autumn leaves falling
on fire.. this time it was different though as I grasped upon
its figure it was whole again.. it was more than before though
it was as I was.. It spoke in soft tones..

"You are new here,
                      "Yes, how do you know,
"Because this place is meant for the dead,
         Where are you from?
"Where frozen in death, static decaying life,
               "I recognize you now you were in the stasis chambers.
"Yes, were in our own purgatory"
            "Our own selfish need to linger on more
                        than the clock is meant to count has  lead us here,



I pondered on his references and knew that,
I had done this out a need to exist longer than
time had given me, not thinking of what lay beyond
that notion.
I told him my name was lunar regent, and when I first
got here the place looked much different, but they touched
upon me they feel like ash. He stopped me there!

"You are the course of all what has perspired in this place,
"Me but I didn't do anything?
            "Your alive where we are dead,
                "Your like a lighthouse in the dark,
  "But everything you linger on, drowns in the evanescence,

I stood back in disbelief, I'm the villain!
The desecrator of this once tomb of thought
that has no reason to doubt their existence.
"How do we stop it?
Jump in the pools of shadow and do what you did
before, always grab on when the shades linger on
the new infused apparition of reflection.

We went through this motion, it felt like weeks,
as every emotion that had lacerated within me
fell like tears of happiness from my grasp.
We had continued, and new faces and gratitude
had graced my eyes.. what was once fleeting
images and layers of reflection and thought became
form the oblivion I once gazed up now was a garden
of reality...

"We are all grateful for this last moment.
to see ourselves as we once were,


"But we can feel the petals
                once again fading..


I asked with sorrowful glances of what could be
done as this would just be a reparation of what
just happened.. I found out that even though
clinically dead our brains were monitored and
thought is but energy and all lingered in the
oblivion of each others memories.
This wasn't an existence they wanted they just
wanted to die.. to be noting once again as it was
meant to be..


"We will use our residual energy to force you
out, to bring you back, please end our suffering,


I didn't have time to even speak as I felt immense
pain flood over me, and before I knew it i
was cradled on the floor.. So cold, my sight regained
and I saw other pods, rubbing the frost from the
windows seeing faces that feel like ash before.
This wasn't a life.. this was a garden of oblivion,
and I was the blossom blowing in the wind.


I reached over seeing an emergency panel,
gazing at it for what felt like eternity..
I pulled it, as I did alarms rang..
I tipped over a pod unused.. blocking the door way..
Then I collapsed in exhaustion.


Awoken by the sounds of a phone ringing,
looking up I saw unfamiliar faces.
"Sir are you ok
      "You have been through a traumatic experience.


"Yes, what about those other people,

               "They were already dead sir,

"Frozen echo's in a chamber of ice,
             "Pardon sir what was that?

"Nothing, how long was in there for?

"Two days.  "Two days,

Once I was well I found out each of there names
and visited there graves stones, laying blossoming
flowers on each one.
Your at piece now friends.
                  There is no garden of oblivion only peace..

I walked of realizing, that life is every moment
every breath is one granted by our willingness
to see a new sunrise. Mine will come to pass
and i will be silent not an echo or in darkness
just a memory fading slowly away.
Nicholas C Feb 2014
There’s too much light
deluge of photons
an affront to Night’s ambiance

Harsh sulfur streetlight glow:
trickery. illuminating
arteries of Artificial

making the Night
dull dark distant
confined to human construct

robbing Mystery
masking subtlety  
devouring nature

the Immensity
the Antiquity
the Beauty of Stars: gone

Lost
blotted out
by buzzing wasp’s nest

Denizens’ sting
to eyes & minds
inflaming consciousness

no longer can you Feel
small and lost
under the grandeur of nocturnal sky

all is set
before you
here to there

Elsewhere to home
Home?
Sleep in Darkness?

listening & thinking
‘til sleep succumbs
No, now rather

befalling Sickly
pallor of computer glow
we stare with blinders

all else fading
save the screen
before us

******* us in
trapping us
excising thoughts

keeping us
from ourselves
that is why we fill the night

Out of fear. To hide
but not from monsters
nor from ghosts goblins gremlins ghouls

not from lurking eldritch terror of yore
but from ourselves
from Feeling and Being

for fear of perceiving
tactile intuition in the air
of what lies ahead rather than seeing

for fear of walking by ourselves
just ourselves with unencumbered thoughts
and seeing through the facade
the facade of daytime ascribed meanings
the facade of of who we are
the facade of light

The facade that Darkness
is what is lacking
that light is normality

That light is beauty
light is hope
light is life

but it’s just that
a Facade
we plastered ourselves: an Illusion

But there’s truth
at Night and under stars
truth in the sensation of dusky hours

Artistry in ink
the allure of “unknown”
feeling small and lost

Under soft Milky Way
floating over dew laden grass
caressed by cool currents  

There’s Truth
& Beauty
in the Night
Nik Bland Feb 2014
Growing is my inner sense
Fading is my innocence
Life is fleeting, non repeating
Forgive my belligerence
Find my as I reference
My childhood that's now gone
Fatalities befalling me
And forcing me to move on
Forcing me to live strong
Forcing me to love long
In reference to the present
I pray my head's not on wrong
Wishing for the simpler things
A time before feeling the sting
Of adult reality and missing all the mystery
Emily Pidduck Mar 2014
Sweet whispers, unlock me
Set free my dark misery
   Sweep paths full of mystery
For truth is a devil.*

It's not a rush you feel, it's fear
A darkness prevailing, soon to be near
This kind of madness, will claim you for years
And all I can say is, "Take cover, my dear"

It's not unknown, you've heard the calling
A seductive moaning befalling
Begging for directions, pleading
That you take place leading

A soft greeting so fleeting
That you've been intrigued
But I sense that this meeting
Will leave you fatigued

And the kind of horrors you shall view
Shall leave you believing
Red has only one hue
That of life leaving

And those villains knew
They've become you
Once again, a warriors poem. Start: regrets of a warrior. Stories told to him of war. The glories of killing with guns, asked of him. Curiosity before the ****. The overwhelming sensation of ******. The horror of no return when you see life leave a killer's eyes and enter your own.
Awake and alone the little boy lies. Darkness gathers, eclipsed only by the shroud befalling his soul.

He shakes, ever so slightly, then the crescendo grows.....gathering momentum with each passing moment. Soon, he shakes uncontrollably, as would a freezing man. He squeezes himself into an ever tighter circle, fighting in vain to stop his trembling.

He clamps his eyes shut ever tighter, so tight it hurts.... a futile effort to stop the hot tears beginning to streak down his face. Slowly his resolve melts, his scant remaining strength leaves him.

He sobs, gently, nearly silently. The walls come falling down, the fear rushes in. He presses face harder against the pillow, muting the sound of his cries. No must hear, no one.

Somewhere in the dark, cold chill of the night, his sobs cease. He drifts out of consciousness and into the abyss of dreams. His only escape, his only refuge.

All to soon, the bright light of the morning sun breaks through the night, announcing a new day. And his cold, stark reality begins anew.
Anna Mosca May 2016


me decorated
with an unexpected smile

I now expect little and live the moment
exploring while passing over

I’ve quit detaining I let
motion befalling having no

more addresses pinheads or pencils
I found myself delighted
in the last three lines
www.annamosca.com

From the collection California Notebooks 01
Sa Sa Ra Dec 2012
Believe as 'The Heavenly Father" speaks life living within you!!
Than cast continually outward and you will see the "Promise",
outwardly befall befalling now!!

Like any 'prophet' who has spoken 'Gods Word',
recorded as scripture no matter how it is seen,
or understood or not with old ears and eyes!!

Each of these said who me how who am I,
beyond humble being for such grace!!!
Then truth was nonetheless clear,
then compulsion drove out the 'Word'!!!

No doubt it has been said as branches of this vine,
the greater will be and indeed is being here now,
among us and One with the ALL it is!!!

Sans little half steps backwards,
we count the ones forward;

In the new 'Double Triple Two Steps' forward,
that count for all that matters;

There is,
a little half step back,
for we shall not forget;

Our lessons in what matters not!!!

No doubt greater;

Than shall keep you breathing,
Outwardly;

LIFE!!!
LOVE!!!

Mete
NEED!!!

Believe do accept breathe;

The holy breath is about awaiting;

It's Divine Will;

To flow freely;

In abundance!!!

Sa Sa
With
For
Timothy!!!
ALL!!!!!*

<3r
See Timothy you make easy,
'Lite of Heart',
'Like a Feather'
That weighs not!!!

http://hellopoetry.com/-timothy/
Oliver Miamiz Jul 2016
The salubrious nature
of the climate,
could'nt Conceal the
Sardonic smile of
the Sun.
Scorching heat withered
the Green carpet on
the Visage of the Earth,
Turgid & Rigid plants
Conceated defeat to
the Harsh enviroment
and became Flaccid.
Both live & dead,
micro & macro couldn't
Elude the Vindictive
& Reprisal power of
the Earth,
Destructive habit of man
was Remunerated with
the Sadism nature of
Eco-system.
If only Replenishing was
a Custom within our
Volition,
Catastrophy befalling us
would be a Past-Tense,
Trees & Animals may
seem lesser
but there Impact on our
eco-system is Vital......!!

@miamizoliver
Gary W Weasel Jr Dec 2012
For he is gone, for he is dead
For he has left and left us dead.
No!  Wilt not yet young flowers,
Flourish still.
Thy lost flow hast merely chosen
For God's table vase.
Radiate they iridescence to the eyes!
Captivate still.

For he is gone, for he is dead.
For we go on, recall instead
Dreams a dreamy man conceived
Of a flower garden, watered well
Flourishing its beauty.
Every seed of soil meticulously placed
To watch the roots grow shoots
Shooting into the sky
Capturing glorious warmth from the dreamer,
Of a thousand dreams
Come true.

For he is gone, for he is dead
Think not that, conceive instead,
Were thy flowers shall come to be
The dreamer who did succeed
Bequeaths to you
To dream

Dream through walls
Befalling the best
And become thy exalted one.
Written February 21, 2004 @ 11:33 PM CST
Written in memory of my best childhood friend's father.
Oliver Miamiz Jul 2016
I'm the cradle of
mankind,
yet I Prey on
myself.
Atrocities befalling me
are Unimaginable,
Warriors & Intellects
have met their fate
at my feet.
Millions have Yielded to
Despair at my Guard,
in Desolate am left
to Fend for myself,
Feigned smiles, Gorged
out Eyes,
bony Figures,
Ghost shadows ramble
my landscape.
Pain and suffering is
so Certain & Dogmatic
in my Vicinity.
Sons & daughters seek
Greener Pastures
in far away lands,
Yet those left Behind
are Caged in today's
living HELL!
All we Yearn for
is Tranquility,
Valour and
Redemption.....

@miamizoliver
Sherilyn Tan Nov 2011
People will be people,
I see them all around.
They seem to have a role to play,
to encourage,to command,to judge or put you down.
You think you're better than them,
they think they're way up there.
You have that much to say,
they think they're way too good to care.

I say, people will be people,
they play their role so well.
It's as if they have all the time
to judge you even for awhile.
As if they couldn't bear the good,
that's befalling over you.
They'll tell you,
"Oh, I've been there,done that, nothing new."

Well,that's why people will be people,
each soul for their own.
You'd imagine why this world's together apart,
perhaps our action's been condone.
We pretend with hands united,
but really, are we one?
We people will be people,
it cannot be undone.
It is nature of all the mothers
To heartily cherish their sons
To believe with worship
In the mortality of the sons
To whim and fancy
That nothing can beat their sons,

It is nature of all the mothers
To replace their love for husbands
With the love of sons,
Always to suspect
That their daughters in law
Are giving raw deals of life and love
To the precious sons,
To stress for ****** marriage of the sons
To doubt and snook at the beauties of sons’ loves,

It is nature of all the mothers
To be in nostalgia of their past love
On the look of the new beards on sons’ face
To equate the ****** tone in the sons bass
With the voices of a raw lover
On the nuptial night of the eloping evening,


It is nature of all the mothers to fault the person
Of other woman’s sons
Only to glorify the character of their own
As they project fortune for heir own
But stark fate or failure
Befalling the male neighbourhood,
To ask the powers that be
For a political treat to their sons
On a baseboard of full discredit
Unto the otherness that be.
Noel Dec 2014
The animals are running.
Night is befalling us.
Sickened twines clench within.
 
Forbidden gardens shy their eyes.
Insects crumble beneath the earth.
The steeple light banishes.
 
Appease the darkness
or succumb your will.
Fear the loathing cold.
 
Shadows creep among trees
the birds flock to chase day
I stand arms open waiting for the change.
 
Only the moonlight's madness can veer
prospecting the future of lost outcomes.
The forest holds it's breath.
 
Howling winds guide the dark chill
Everything is gone, the light has vanished
Nothing can be sure of tomorrow.
a really old poem I wrote that I just recently stumbled upon.
Nickols Nov 2013
Under the shade of a tree, I can see the world.
Unadulterated colors, bleeding between then lines of society.
Lounging in the depths, soaking up the cool, cool cloak of solitude.
Masked proportion of land, dipping beneath the heat of a comets flare.
God's favorite creation, walking under the sun, melting away in a job well done.

But from the shade of my tree, I can see the world.
Not a bead of sweat befalling my brow.
No shades of luminous ribbons, blaze through my shadows.
My blue eyes, the only ray forgoing all rhyme or rhythm.

I watch the world from behind the line of light.
The untold story, of a girl battling that fight...
© Victoria
Picture this Jul 2015
Decaying graveyard flowers
rotting time down drains
painful memories sour the day
and only grief remains

The fading light gives way
to death's dark shadowed wake
and roses fall from loving arms
too weak to undertake

Veils cover bloodshot eyes
and whimpers turn to sobs
mourners fill the church inside
another soul's been robbed

For death denotes finality
fading time will stop
the cemetery houses many men
buried prone in their plot

There's no avoiding time's
ruthlessly ticking clock
the secret is to live your days
as if tomorrow's locked

But death is a certain path
befalling all us mortals
rejoice in life and live
realising all potentials
Poetic T Aug 2017
Wings migrated to this point,
it was just a passenger on this
journey of inspiration.

Exhalations of past moments
carried it upon the many exhibits
of  wonderment befalling its senses.

Fatigued wings collect on delicate
petals, slumbering it awakens to the
ethereal  mirage of beauty before it.

Majestic droplets refracting the
imagery beyond the luminescent
pools of peaceful retrospection.

Fluttering its delicate motivation,
deciding this is the place for it to rest.
For life is moments silently contemplated.
Poetic T Aug 2016
They had waited in ill conception upon the
reality of man, between the moment this was
but a flicker in the eternal motions of what waited
eons for it unwitting birth of perpetual existence.

But where there in metaphorical thoughts urges
the reality of thought into eventual birth. And it
tasted upon existence and succumb to it taste and
wished to depart more on its hungered birth,

The signs had fallen upon the calendar of mans
folly, where there  had been no relevance now
conjectured thought had birthed it into place.

Like an egg it hatched upon the civilization of mans
wanting of retribution. All ill conceived musing
now given an illegitimate form of what feel on the 13th

13th moment of mans fall of what was meant as luck
now befalling into disrepute. Now given the day of
mans weakness upon its self wheres its weaknees falls short.

Feed me glutton upon the stupidness of mans folly and reap
the seeds sown in tempestuous ignorance and on this day the
worst tiding will fall on the many now called man.
Juniper Apr 2020
O my precious flower of amethyst,
Who blooms in the early spring,
And whose dreadful fate befalls him fast
For any of my everlasting love to last.
To you I will go forth and sing,
As once did my lord, the Sun King,
Of your amaranthine beauty, by which I am bewitched.

By the hands of the West Wind did you fall,
Where you withered in front of your god of light.
For I, your death was my most tragic loss.
But if I had stopped that discus in toss,
I would have prevented this plight
From ever befalling my sight,
And never would I have listened to you wrawl.

To the Messenger did the Sun King flee for comfort,
But I, without you, had no one to go.
Even in death, your fairness remains,
In the shape of the hyacinth, forever contained.
My love for you still overflows,
Even amidst all the woe,
But now, alone, I shall go into summer.
Dante Rocío Jun 2020
The antonym of befalling
to the Matrix
and its shackles of death,
injustice,
self-lost
or “drugginess”
is not exactly leading a protest,
an obvious to eyes fight
or anger-loaded activity
but in fact going away
from all the Movement
to the Stillness.
To reclaim the earth as ours
and ourselves as its,
our presence in senses,
kisses by pupils,
glances in fingertips,
honourable existing
and all the truth of our own
aside from anyone else’s claims,
facts & dampers.
That is a mutiny,
from the rush,
absence in our person,
the priorities cast on our choices
by seeming authorities.
Into doing,
being
and adoring
conscious
Nothing.
This is one of the greatest strikes to lead.
Stand up with me to that liberty

— The End —