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"breathed" poems
I walk the world with thoughts of you In every place I go Your voice is on the winter wind Your footprints in the snow And every tool I try to use to scrape you from my mind Cuts your name onto my tongue And beats me till I'm blind I layed my head upon your knees and breathed the air you breathed I cut myself when you were cut to know just how you bleed Now as I walk this empty earth with nothing but a face To breathe me and to bleed me Until I leave this place
0
Feb 10, 2013
Feb 10, 2013 at 2:32 AM UTC
Face
Heaven rained on me, I breathed in the petrichor, Bathed in the downpour.
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Sep 29, 2019
Sep 29, 2019 at 3:42 AM UTC
Submission
The mother is first— she is for all and down to earth. She, the mother Fathima, descended from uncharted Heaven— that pivotal frontier only the Prophet of all prophets has seen. Then, there was no Adam, nor Eve, nor even Jibreel. Every star across the seven skies wishes to kiss that golden dust. Not to mention the Moon at the center, waning and waxing—openly and secretly— unleashing its longing to rub this non-sublunary piece against its forehead. She knows—only then the rough seas beneath her will calm, bathed in the soft raining moonlight, rubbing off upon a lucky, blossomed forehead. Oh, if only— scarcely could they ever see it! The galaxies, since their inceptions, have longed for it. The bliss of the eyes—tucked away from the scene. Paradise lies beneath the mother’s feet! It finds its core, its resonant lore, in the shadow of the original feminine—Fathima. There, the original matter explored; Paradise breathed beneath her— but she touched down at the heart of the Earth without stepping or touching on Paradise, only to give her stake away to others. No land she would take on her way back, indeed. Not in her name. Do you know where Fathima’s grave is?
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Dec 28, 2017
Dec 28, 2017 at 4:01 PM UTC
Fathima Hailed From Pivotal Heaven
Both can ****         The only difference is                       Cigarettes shatter lungs          She shatters everything             I remembered the first moment my lips pressed the filter      as I lit it up breathed it all                 savored every smoke        as if we covered up painful lies         in a container of painkillers The same way   we used to pressed our lips      sparked something between us            savored every moment we had     as if our love was a rose                in a valley of tulips
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Sep 9, 2018
Sep 9, 2018 at 1:37 PM UTC
Cigarettes And The Girl I loved
Time and risk caught up to you; Gagged you into silence. Chasing down the dragon was Your favorite form of violence. I saw its markings on your skin; The gauntness of your eyes Your searching fingers scratching down To truth, as you breathed lies China white won this round, love You thought you'd always dance The dragon chose another one And turned its gaze askance.
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Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 9:15 AM UTC
The Dragon Won.
A flawless red curve of Seductive lips Your bold tongue On the cusp of mine I savor your words Reckless declarations Breathed down my throat Slashing my soul A wound that won’t heal Exposed to the memory of ********** Memories that make it my ruin The way you wrenched my heart Racked my mind Molested my soul The desolation you left me with When you were done I look for Pink To comfort and inspire My emotional essence You will see if you Look into my eyes.
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Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 1:35 PM UTC
Pink
* you're so perfect she said as she breathed in my skin like air.
0
Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 11:20 AM UTC
air.
She lays awake, Trembling in the dark Whispers echoing around, Cracking the glass Shiny liquids fall slowly From eyelids to floor Hopelessly awaiting For a knock on the door The darkness surrounds Each and every soul The girl's heart melting For it couldn't bear breaking As the light made its way Through the cracked glass The tiny fetal form Breathed in a rasp Soon the weak heart Slowed the last beat The cracked window opened Spreading the heat But the darkened eyes Light had no more The soul had wandered To the deadly shore
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Sep 14, 2015
Sep 14, 2015 at 11:32 AM UTC
Gone With The Wind
She told me she loved me, that I've no need to fear. I believed all the lies that she breathed in my ear. I pulled her in close, closer than anyone before. I tried not to cry or she wouldn't love me anymore. I couldn't hold back, forever stalked by self-pity- I wept, and she left. Translucent comforts pierced through me. She hates me now, a bit more every day. I've not given up yet- I want her to stay. Perhaps she will wish, once I'm hanging lifeless from a tree, that she'd loved me forever, as I begged for it to be.
0
Jul 22, 2011
Jul 22, 2011 at 11:07 AM UTC
Unforgiven Love
"I can’t figure it out.” She said. “I like cigars, and pretty dresses and crossing my legs.” She paused, then continued, “And I like smoking cigars in pretty dresses while crossing my legs.” She uncrossed them, then crossed them again. One smooth limb over the other. Just like that. “But I never seem to have a lighter on hand. Could you— sir, please light my cigar?” “You see, I have no pockets to hold such things and my purse… Well, You’ve confiscated that, haven’t you?” “Thanks.” She breathed, and inhaled, and exhaled; Sluggish wisps of smoke dissipating into the air. Just. like .that. “I didn’t know L'homme was into women who smoke cigars in pretty dresses while crossing their legs", She said. “I mean, how was I to know? I only noticed him noticing me. It was probably the way my hair was tousled like so, Or how my lipstick shone a deep, dangerous rogue, Or the way I sipped at my champagne… That made him walk over.” “But I never asked him to light my cigar Or comment on my dress… Or stroke my legs. So when I whacked him up top over the head with my glass, I bet he never expected it to shatter and split his skull like so. He dropped so sudden, sir. I…” Another ringlet of smoke, a sigh, an uncrossing and crossing of legs again. “I had no clue, what else to do, But to sit still in my pretty dress, with my legs crossed, smoking my cigar trying to figure out... Just how I'd committed ******
0
Nov 12, 2018
Nov 12, 2018 at 5:10 PM UTC
"She Loved her Cigars, a Pretty Dress, and Crossing her Legs". A tribute to a Femme Fatale.
Kapag ang lupa'y nag-alay na ng huling hininga, Alalahanin mo yaong sayo'y sumamo ng tiwala, Humimbing ka sa mga nalabing labi ng karumalan, Ilubog mo ang sarili sa pusod ng kawalan. Tama kaibigan, ito na nga ang kamatayan. Death When the earth has breathed its last, Remember the people who gained your trust Then, sleep  with the ruins this monstrosity has created Plunge yourself in deep desolation Yes my dear friend, this is no longer an illusion.
0
Oct 1, 2013
Oct 1, 2013 at 9:27 PM UTC
Kamatayan
Curled up beneath the duvet knees drawn up to chest inhaling the smokey scent of my fleece sown fresh nostalgia I remembered how we laughed and ate off chinaware while sipping out of plastic cups sitting by the fire pit in the backyard my eyes wandered towards the woods at dusk and I breathed realizing we are just specks of dust that glimmer in the light of our Creator.
0
Oct 29, 2013
Oct 29, 2013 at 4:17 PM UTC
Written On Leaves
I thought I knew myself better than anyone, The hours I spent Stood in front of the mirror Picking new masks to hate every Day, Hour, Minute I thought there was nothing more to me, The pale skin, chewed fingernails, The tired eyes Reflecting the sleepless nights- the morning coffee I thought I was worth nothing. One night the stars sent me you, I still see you as a gift So delicate and fragile; One mistake and you'd slip through my fingers Gone. To someone who deserves you. You unfurled galaxies in my eyes Flowers in my mind And feeling in my veins, You breathed life into my lungs Sang promises into my ear - Filling my head with the thought of you. You have hold of my heart As though it was precious to you, But I know better than anyone, if you let it go then Darling, so will I.
0
Jan 25, 2015
Jan 25, 2015 at 6:28 PM UTC
soulmate
When I saw her The first woman with the first wide eyes Bright and light and dark and deep With life and mystery My heart beat like the first hand struck the first drum And the first song was sung In dark caves of ten times ten thousand years ago When I first breathed that first scent My sight stopped My mind stopped My mind was my body and my hands and my gut And my legs extending to the ground and the earth and time And it slowed down like an ice age beginning Then it melted into warm fire Where it burned The first touch of the first woman Was electrical chemical radioactive bliss Every piece of matter in me wanted to move and dance and shake and fly apart The spark from the start of her heart beat Crossed through the fibers and Traveled down the pathways of her body Down the chemical electric synapses Through her arm and jumped across to my hand And traveled up and started a new beat It was a faster, and stronger beat And it beat And it beat Like the first dance, Shook with the slap and smack of ground and hands and feet Oh the first woman was all women And then there were other women And they were people Flesh and blood And minds and thoughts And feelings that I could not feel Good and bad and indifferent With hangups and problems Blemishes and baggage I met women coming Women going Here and there Now and then For coffee, for beer, One evening or ten I met scientists, nurses bartenders and baristas. Living lives I didn't mind Giving time when it was mine Asking for things I couldn't find Then I saw You All of you In time and space and speed I caught the scent of you Your fragrance and perfume And the primal musk of you That fatal lusts allure I felt you The gravity of your body from across the room Your electro-magnetic force pulling Pressure of the displaced particles pushing As you walked so slowly towards me And time stopped Light and sound and movement were captured Captive to your hypnotic sway Prisoner to your power over my perception You moved through the still air And it swept aside like a curtain as you passed The world was quiet And then it pounded   The pressure of it filled the air and everything around it As you moved closer, Like ride of the Valkyries Rising and crashing in waves It rose as you moved towards me You carried it in your wake And then it was a crescendo A vast overpowering transcendent orchestral cacophony Of immense intense sound and light and energy erupting Cymbals crashed and horns blew and strings snapped under the pressure of the vibrations Brilliant fireworks exploded in the black sky of your brown eyes As you stopped a few feet from me And time was stopped You were the first woman You were all women You are The only woman
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Aug 11, 2013
Aug 11, 2013 at 1:03 AM UTC
The First Woman
When I saw her The first woman with the first wide eyes Bright and light and dark and deep With life and mystery My heart beat like the first hand struck the first drum And the first song was sung In dark caves of ten times ten thousand years ago When I first breathed that first scent My sight stopped My mind stopped My mind was my body and my hands and my gut And my legs extending to the ground and the earth and time And it slowed down like an ice age beginning Then it melted into warm fire Where it burned The first touch of the first woman Was electrical chemical radioactive bliss Every piece of matter in me wanted to move and dance and shake and fly apart The spark from the start of her heart beat Crossed through the fibers and Traveled down the pathways of her body Down the chemical electric synapses Through her arm and jumped across to my hand And traveled up and started a new beat It was a faster, and stronger beat And it beat And it beat Like the first dance, Shook with the slap and smack of ground and hands and feet Oh the first woman was all women And then there were other women And they were people Flesh and blood And minds and thoughts And feelings that I could not feel Good and bad and indifferent With hangups and problems Blemishes and baggage I met women coming Women going Here and there Now and then For coffee, for beer, One evening or ten I met scientists, nurses bartenders and baristas. Living lives I didn't mind Giving time when it was mine Asking for things I couldn't find Then I saw You All of you In time and space and speed I caught the scent of you Your fragrance and perfume And the primal musk of you That fatal lusts allure I felt you The gravity of your body from across the room Your electro-magnetic force pulling Pressure of the displaced particles pushing As you walked so slowly towards me And time stopped Light and sound and movement were captured Captive to your hypnotic sway Prisoner to your power over my perception You moved through the still air And it swept aside like a curtain as you passed The world was quiet And then it pounded   The pressure of it filled the air and everything around it As you moved closer, Like ride of the Valkyries Rising and crashing in waves It rose as you moved towards me You carried it in your wake And then it was a crescendo A vast overpowering transcendent orchestral cacophony Of immense intense sound and light and energy erupting Cymbals crashed and horns blew and strings snapped under the pressure of the vibrations Brilliant fireworks exploded in the black sky of your brown eyes As you stopped a few feet from me And time was stopped You were the first woman You were all women You are The only woman
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86
Perched quietly in the shadows of the night, Observing completely, using all her might, Untouched the landscape sat; she breathed a sigh, She leapt and began to fly She soared through the trees, dark and murky, Weaving in and out, the ride a little jerky, Until she reached the clearing, blooming and sprouting, Where she landed and began scouting She spotted a baby, small and alone, Hungry and confused, wanting to be shown, Flying over to the area in which it sat, She pulled some wisdom from her hat Unmoving and silent, she sat as an example, Showing her apprentice just a little sample, Teaching patience and perseverance was first on the list, She didn’t quit until it got the gist Next thing she knew, her student was growing, In no time, it was the one doing all the showing, She took a step back, gazing proudly at her work, While the child continued doing all the groundwork Rays peaked out across the horizon in all hues, Most of which consisted of reds and blues, She looked at the child, beckoning it to fly on home, Although she longed to stay and roam As the sun rose, slow and bright, She decided to turn and take off in flight, Twisting and turning through trees and brush, She flew on quickly, as if in a rush She spotted it then, modest and small, The place she longed to go most of all, Adventures are fun and she liked to roam, But there’s definitely no place quite like home.
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Jan 11, 2018
Jan 11, 2018 at 10:27 PM UTC
Wise Quiet One
son spreads knee blood into ******* &/or sidewalk chalk. mixes reds to pinks with head cracking asphalt. of god & country. of soggy bread in a lunch-bag; snackpack readied. he skates. the concussed ****** of booming youth. omega he: to the wolf pack outers. breathing love of summer, he is the son drunk on hi-c & burping. watching teenaged supersoakers yodel on a bridge. florida. son sneaks out late to rationalize the city’s features under strange light & love of nightly people. boy sculpts body out of beast, turned dark corners. arrives swollen. his father erects a roofed flattop in the backyard slab with flood light electronics taught to worship the shred. mother rattles the blender on the kitchen outskirts, ***** breathed & nearing with hugs. blister-itched. glossed folds of scar tissue. those days on summer-beyond when the neighborhood pulsates. with satellite dishes tuneforking high-frequency vibrations from outerspace & pigeons explode. son’s ears bleed, & the television goes unwatched. he snaps plank & ankle protein, refurbishing his legs into iron-rods or wands of summer anthem. cold war. he empties sugar-sweat & toxins into the storm-drain. essence of wet heat, skin pinched, & friend of ghosts. a three legged dog lay in the shade leisurely watching the boy skate on endless.
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Apr 1, 2014
Apr 1, 2014 at 1:11 AM UTC
skateboard gothic
The scent of fresh bread breathed me home for Christmas
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Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
The Scent of Reminiscence
I kissed the dying orchid. My loving intentions dedicated Towards the withering flower. I smelt its perfumed essence. Sent it off with a blessing. Now the twist hits me. I feel like I brought love into me. What I intended to give To that dying orchid, Was breathed back into me, Unintentionally.
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Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 2:07 PM UTC
Kiss the Dying Orchid
There is a hole in the world All the doors are painted a shade of liars faces their colors while arriving are also fading but we are still here.. Where corroding slats of 63 year old wood sound like the screams echoing across the crumbling pages of days burnt yellow beneath the fire of eyes The purple pouring through unseen waves in the dusk sky as Janis joplin sang gray star clouds into my heart she sewed my wounds with the ash of of bodies adrift of lovers living only in the mirage air disguised as smiles everlasting glass of the empty kind of love that lies, and never breathes yet forever dies dreams devour you with tears remembering the terror in Janis's eyes, she poured herself out across the floor of the perishing world while performing "work me lord" "live at stockholm 69'" to the dark, we were never there we were born into hands that were dying we breathed our last breath of freedom- then we were born, It was then that I heard the darkness cry. we are dying.. because we have forgotten the free gift given, our lightless bones loose around the spine of every bolt we never knew, strengthened our stance against the murderous long night. Choosing blindness, over looking without sight, The invisible mountain, that breathed in our corroding dusty hearts, weilding love against the demons behind our mirror eyes.. Refusing to call his name.. we have lived for each one of us just for ourselves ("selflove") so it is this then, we have sold our freedom to the lie named death.
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Apr 18, 2020
Apr 18, 2020 at 2:42 AM UTC
And, so it was that in those days; the lips of clouds erupted!
There is a hole in the world All the doors are painted a shade of liars faces their colors while arriving are also fading but we are still here.. Where corroding slats of 63 year old wood sound like the screams echoing across the crumbling pages of days burnt yellow beneath the fire of eyes The purple pouring through unseen waves in the dusk sky as Janis joplin sang gray star clouds into my heart she sewed my wounds with the ash of of bodies adrift of lovers living only in the mirage air disguised as smiles everlasting glass of the empty kind of love that lies, and never breathes yet forever dies dreams devour you with tears remembering the terror in Janis's eyes, she poured herself out across the floor of the perishing world while performing "work me lord" "live at stockholm 69'" to the dark, we were never there we were born into hands that were dying we breathed our last breath of freedom- then we were born, It was then that I heard the darkness cry. we are dying.. because we have forgotten the free gift given, our lightless bones loose around the spine of every bolt we never knew, strengthened our stance against the murderous long night. Choosing blindness, over looking without sight, The invisible mountain, that breathed in our corroding dusty hearts, weilding love against the demons behind our mirror eyes.. Refusing to call his name.. we have lived for each one of us just for ourselves ("selflove") so it is this then, we have sold our freedom to the lie named death.
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65
learned to play guitar and even learned a new song played music for money spent time with my family busted a string playing guitar lost a friend fell in love climbed a mountain sat on a waterfall saw a palm tree walked along the beach in fog breathed salty air swam in the ocean discovered a fruit saw a gay pride parade camped in the Redwoods fireworks exploded right above my head made love on a cold starry night played in sand hiked down highway 101 slept on a boat in the bay skinny dipped in a lake and had *** on a train
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Nov 3, 2014
Nov 3, 2014 at 7:52 PM UTC
summer 2013
Home bound after work near 12:30 am just a few minutes from checking my email then retiring as us old folks like to call it from the North side of route 7 at a slight angle there and gone in half a second was the biggest meteor I've ever seen if that's what it was so big that I slowed and listened for a boom but nothing came I have no idea how far it went before touching down but this isn't about the meteor this is about the fact that when I got home and thought about who I would tell... there was no one that came to mind I've seen so much crazy **** in my life that the stories have grown old even the new ones I breathed life into a dead woman one morning then faced the fact that I couldn't save another hit by a truck on my way home just after midnight on the day before the great Russian meteor I saw 2 objects in the sky on fire and not moving... in broad daylight I've been touched and spoken to by spirits or ghosts or phantoms take your pick I saw 3000 people sacrificed in the name of what? and as a child I witnessed a president murdered by those supposed to follow him I've grown to see the young know nothing of that last President who actually had a vision and a spine and when I quietly leave this life there will be little to note... a brief glance of my obituary by a few sad souls I often think of a quote I heard as a young man by a comedian; George Gobel who was on the 'Tonight Show' Dean Martin and Bob Hope were also on that show and unknown to George, Dean was flipping his cigarette ashes in George's drink as he was telling his humorous stories this caused the laughs to come out of sequence...and finally a confused George said; 'Did you ever feel like the world was a tuxedo and you were a pair of brown shoes?'
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Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 11:37 PM UTC
brown shoes
Home bound after work near 12:30 am just a few minutes from checking my email then retiring as us old folks like to call it from the North side of route 7 at a slight angle there and gone in half a second was the biggest meteor I've ever seen if that's what it was so big that I slowed and listened for a boom but nothing came I have no idea how far it went before touching down but this isn't about the meteor this is about the fact that when I got home and thought about who I would tell... there was no one that came to mind I've seen so much crazy **** in my life that the stories have grown old even the new ones I breathed life into a dead woman one morning then faced the fact that I couldn't save another hit by a truck on my way home just after midnight on the day before the great Russian meteor I saw 2 objects in the sky on fire and not moving... in broad daylight I've been touched and spoken to by spirits or ghosts or phantoms take your pick I saw 3000 people sacrificed in the name of what? and as a child I witnessed a president murdered by those supposed to follow him I've grown to see the young know nothing of that last President who actually had a vision and a spine and when I quietly leave this life there will be little to note... a brief glance of my obituary by a few sad souls I often think of a quote I heard as a young man by a comedian; George Gobel who was on the 'Tonight Show' Dean Martin and Bob Hope were also on that show and unknown to George, Dean was flipping his cigarette ashes in George's drink as he was telling his humorous stories this caused the laughs to come out of sequence...and finally a confused George said; 'Did you ever feel like the world was a tuxedo and you were a pair of brown shoes?'
Continue reading...
46
Birds have their homes. This bird made this world, Its own home. When other birds struggled To make friends beyond their homes, This bird made followers and comrades, Transformed them The perseverent leaders of a challenging mission It put its foot on Argentina and Set its victorious fight in Cuba. Availed losses in Congo Voiced and breathed every millisecond Struggled recklessly for a mission, Freedom, peace & prosperity of all its fellow birds Beyond borders. The most superior of the superior birds With an infinite and complex strings of cunningness Put an end to this bird in Bolivia. At the end, the bird failed Fell a prey for other selfish birds. As a root that fell and Buried itself in the soil with an infinite power. To give hope and shelter, To all those who come under it, For the near future and coming generations The bird died! But its mission ignited the phoenix flames In its bird comrades. Got them to fight for Every drop of Injustice, Imperialism and hatred That came racing towards them As an inescapable bullet Their hearts raised in spirit When every drop of its thought Hit them more fierce than The world’s most powerful atomic bomb. The bird died. But its ideals for the mission Rekindled the fires in their heart. Being born an ordinary bird, Fighting for the most demanded & toughest mission, Its thought and principles Set new leaders to fight the unattainable mission Now, looking the most possible Within an attaining distance The bird lived its life, An ordinary and the most challenging one. But transformed a phoenix, When it left the world. And created more of Daring Phoenix warriors; Attain a world filled with peace and happiness.
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Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 9:14 AM UTC
Phoenix for the humanity
Birds have their homes. This bird made this world, Its own home. When other birds struggled To make friends beyond their homes, This bird made followers and comrades, Transformed them The perseverent leaders of a challenging mission It put its foot on Argentina and Set its victorious fight in Cuba. Availed losses in Congo Voiced and breathed every millisecond Struggled recklessly for a mission, Freedom, peace & prosperity of all its fellow birds Beyond borders. The most superior of the superior birds With an infinite and complex strings of cunningness Put an end to this bird in Bolivia. At the end, the bird failed Fell a prey for other selfish birds. As a root that fell and Buried itself in the soil with an infinite power. To give hope and shelter, To all those who come under it, For the near future and coming generations The bird died! But its mission ignited the phoenix flames In its bird comrades. Got them to fight for Every drop of Injustice, Imperialism and hatred That came racing towards them As an inescapable bullet Their hearts raised in spirit When every drop of its thought Hit them more fierce than The world’s most powerful atomic bomb. The bird died. But its ideals for the mission Rekindled the fires in their heart. Being born an ordinary bird, Fighting for the most demanded & toughest mission, Its thought and principles Set new leaders to fight the unattainable mission Now, looking the most possible Within an attaining distance The bird lived its life, An ordinary and the most challenging one. But transformed a phoenix, When it left the world. And created more of Daring Phoenix warriors; Attain a world filled with peace and happiness.
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52
In this life you will find Degradation unavoidable For it is in the weather of our life Degradation is like radioactive waste We pass like presents to each other The rain on a wedding day As I did once live In the shadows of dread As degradation breathed on me And I fell into the pits of self doubt And stank of slimy sewers For I was lost in loathing , But my soul grew rapidly In the muck and mud of this world For it was fertile and rich As my roots drank up all its goodness So please send me your degradation Your disrespect and contempt Your pretty wrapping of best interests Makes no fool of me For I will soak it up like the sky above For I embrace my madness And caress her beauty Like the most cherished lover As you reject your life Within the tight confines Of your own reason As you seek to bury your Disappointments in me I hold your self doubt in my hands For you live by scales and ranking As I throw away all scales And burn all efforts For there is nothing I can take from this world So please, please Strain if you must Look down on me If you can, As I am above For I own the sky And live above and beyond But all degradation disappears In the softest heart Of self acceptance As I fill the room All banter falls like the softest snow As we serenely dance and play In our snowball games As I learn to swing and play All jokes bounce and tickle The inside of my belly For I live in the ecstasy Of my own self acceptance As we roll around like clowns All barriers broken Our bellies full of joy As we spill over with love And bounce around like jelly For no degradation exists In the center of our hearts Where God permeates our souls For his love should be Followed into us whole As I accept God's goodness And perfection in all of me
0
Jul 15, 2014
Jul 15, 2014 at 6:06 AM UTC
DEGRADATION AND SELF ACCEPTANCE
In this life you will find Degradation unavoidable For it is in the weather of our life Degradation is like radioactive waste We pass like presents to each other The rain on a wedding day As I did once live In the shadows of dread As degradation breathed on me And I fell into the pits of self doubt And stank of slimy sewers For I was lost in loathing , But my soul grew rapidly In the muck and mud of this world For it was fertile and rich As my roots drank up all its goodness So please send me your degradation Your disrespect and contempt Your pretty wrapping of best interests Makes no fool of me For I will soak it up like the sky above For I embrace my madness And caress her beauty Like the most cherished lover As you reject your life Within the tight confines Of your own reason As you seek to bury your Disappointments in me I hold your self doubt in my hands For you live by scales and ranking As I throw away all scales And burn all efforts For there is nothing I can take from this world So please, please Strain if you must Look down on me If you can, As I am above For I own the sky And live above and beyond But all degradation disappears In the softest heart Of self acceptance As I fill the room All banter falls like the softest snow As we serenely dance and play In our snowball games As I learn to swing and play All jokes bounce and tickle The inside of my belly For I live in the ecstasy Of my own self acceptance As we roll around like clowns All barriers broken Our bellies full of joy As we spill over with love And bounce around like jelly For no degradation exists In the center of our hearts Where God permeates our souls For his love should be Followed into us whole As I accept God's goodness And perfection in all of me
Continue reading...
65
Sonoran desert sacred, hot breathed scorch of footsteps, blood red sands sun bleached bones and skulls this wash a hallowed holy ghost an unnerving place of hiss and fire molten sun to dry the water a drowning fever of prickly sweat last night the Yaqui man you met undulating in a purification ceremony lashing energy cords cut he is laughing like coyote, wild eyed green the velvet desert peyote awakened you have come to understand a universe within a fleck of sand.
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Oct 14, 2015
Oct 14, 2015 at 6:11 PM UTC
Desert purification
♦   ♦   ♦ She was an earnest devotée. Her ideals, birthed in Chardonnay were globally diverse (read: white). A liberal bark preceded bite. Her crystal clearer than her vision; she provoked bemused derision as she breathed intolerance toward all who would not dance her dance. She swooned for distant pagan tribes, attuned to their exotic vibes – rapt in multi-culti piety strangely deaf to her own society, judged by her as abomination; unredeemed. The background station always stuck on N.P.R. (the soundtrack of her culture war, Pacifica News and Democracy Nows, and other progressive holy cows) Her motherland a shameful mystery: guilty first, and void of history – its origins defiled, corrupted… while she enjoyed uninterrupted freedom to pursue her whims: misguided one-world global hymns. The sisterhood of hu(man) kind was foremost in her earnest mind – even should that same sisterhood be sealed by her well-meaning blood. Out on a date with global death she hoped to unify the earth in solidarity with causes led by killers, warlord bosses, thugs she never knew existed who, if she’d met she’d have resisted. Her theory landed far from her praxis spun, by default, on an evil axis. Hot with zeal she fumed and stormed quite certain she was well-informed, at benefits, non-profit functions rallies, boycotts, left-wing luncheons; warm with righteous spite for Israel, aiding and abetting Ishmael with fellow-travelers, like-minded similarly hateful, blinded, rattling sabers, scimitars, axes… (lunacy never wanes, but waxes hotter with the passing years as activists confront their fears). She finally shilled for the Intifada (stopping short of reciting Shahada), reaching out to the terrorist with righteous raised progressive fist… offering thus her neck to blade: collateral to be repaid by murderers who couldn’t care less about her open-mindedness.
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 9:57 PM UTC
Suicide by Diversity
♦   ♦   ♦ She was an earnest devotée. Her ideals, birthed in Chardonnay were globally diverse (read: white). A liberal bark preceded bite. Her crystal clearer than her vision; she provoked bemused derision as she breathed intolerance toward all who would not dance her dance. She swooned for distant pagan tribes, attuned to their exotic vibes – rapt in multi-culti piety strangely deaf to her own society, judged by her as abomination; unredeemed. The background station always stuck on N.P.R. (the soundtrack of her culture war, Pacifica News and Democracy Nows, and other progressive holy cows) Her motherland a shameful mystery: guilty first, and void of history – its origins defiled, corrupted… while she enjoyed uninterrupted freedom to pursue her whims: misguided one-world global hymns. The sisterhood of hu(man) kind was foremost in her earnest mind – even should that same sisterhood be sealed by her well-meaning blood. Out on a date with global death she hoped to unify the earth in solidarity with causes led by killers, warlord bosses, thugs she never knew existed who, if she’d met she’d have resisted. Her theory landed far from her praxis spun, by default, on an evil axis. Hot with zeal she fumed and stormed quite certain she was well-informed, at benefits, non-profit functions rallies, boycotts, left-wing luncheons; warm with righteous spite for Israel, aiding and abetting Ishmael with fellow-travelers, like-minded similarly hateful, blinded, rattling sabers, scimitars, axes… (lunacy never wanes, but waxes hotter with the passing years as activists confront their fears). She finally shilled for the Intifada (stopping short of reciting Shahada), reaching out to the terrorist with righteous raised progressive fist… offering thus her neck to blade: collateral to be repaid by murderers who couldn’t care less about her open-mindedness.
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