Colliding; the collusion of day and night
Of things co-exsisting, theirs,
Light and darkness.
Blazing across the ethereal plain
An arch angelic inferno.
Infinite is the horizon
Confluently coloured; eminence
Transforming smouldering heat.
An auric aureole interpenetrating diverse bi-unity,
Illuminative transcension igniting
The charcoal black vast depths of heaven, space.
The eternal perfection ordained, twilight
Zenith sense turbulent like the oceans tide
Anthropomorphic legions, lingering shadows
In the purgatory of mischievous children.
Blood gushing like emotions,
Sacraments ordained for sacrifice
Canonised; Sepulchre
Immortal legions mortal as the knell echoes
This side of paradise,
Heaven an altar
A church altar, rapidly retreating
As stars disperse like candles fading-
Sacrilegious; sepulchre
Of angels fallen.




1997 ELEETE J MUIR

I wish I was there again.
I wish everything that’s in my head got lost at sea,
that all I could taste was salty air.
I wish I was walking in the little shops
that all sold seashells and starfish.
I wish everywhere I was I could hear the crashing tide;
calling me back to the cold, fresh, water.
I wish my feet were buried in warm sand,
hiding from the chilling breeze.
I wish I was where time slowed to a stop,
where I had all the time in the world.
I wish I was staring into a never ending horizon,
where I wasn’t always running to catch up.
Where all I had to do was breathe in and breathe out.

If I ever had a kid,
I would tell them stories.

If I ever had a kid I would tell them of my mother,
my father,
and the loving family we had that fell in the *** holes of the long winding roads.
How I came to grow up
alone
but never by myself.
How i got to take care of the loving mother I had.
She needed the help and I did so.

Of the lake i swam in
never going farther than I could;
my grandfather's living spirt
pulling back to shore
and
keeping me safe from the untold creatures
lurking far under me
waiting to strike up.

How a father stepped in and out of my life
every month,
every hour,
and every other weekend.
I never got them back.
I never got him back.

A house ever changing
anger ever present,
resentment,
hatred,
never ending pain of not exsisting
when right in front of the man who is supposed to know you are there.

I would tell them of every summer
spent in a different world.
The world of adults.
Life slowed to a heat dazed crawl
nights spent in a haze
dazed
high on life
that wasn't my own
living as a different person
one who danced with swords in the rain
with electric lights
Daft Punk and coffee
smiles and lies
stolen hats
stolen memories
always remembered.

If I ever had a kid,
I would tell them of a brother
who loved me,
hated me,
supported me,
killed me and brought me back
only to **** me once again.
An ever changing persona of who i could be,
who I should be,
and who I will never be again.
The things we talked about
that I could never tell,
other than a kid,
who would understand the meaning of its imaganitive exsistance.
as I did
when I was a kid.

I would tell them of my loves.
How much they meant to me.
How they hurt when I left them.
How I learned to love better because of them
and how through the pain of my mistakes
I lost a family,
gained them back,
lost myself and wished it back,
and loved.
A military man
A lumber jack
A theater geek
A sountherner
A northener
A shade
and all the other loves in between.

I would tell them of my friends
the stories we made together
of magic,
and science,
and mysticsm.
Dungoens
Dragons
Wizards
Rouges
A bard
the story teller
the Dungeon Master
Ajani's Vengence
his pride mate
An ageless entity that gained my life and gave it back with each deadly strike
rendered by titanic ultimatums
a surprise attack
never ending how I wished
for it was expected by my masters
and teachers
but not by the underlings I chased after.

They would know the story of a moonbeam.
Her never ending starshine.
The lights they wove together in the dark of night
during the witching hours of peace
and secrets untold
but understood
when unspoken.
How the moon chased its star
the star chased it back
and neither won
nor caught the other
but remained in the tormenting cycle
that was their life.
shared
seperated
and forever together
through a bond unbreakable
by time
space
love
hate
pain
joy
and life lived in the moment.

If I ever had a kid
they would live to never understand me.
my life
the things I went through,
the things I knew but should have never learned,
just as I couldn't with mine.
As I never will with my mother
or father
my brother
my sister.
Our lives seperated by an unchanging opinoin
always wrong
always right
and never accepting of the others.

For they did the same when they had a kid.
As I would if I ever had a kid
trying to teach lessons
experiencing the learning moments
the advice that went in one ear
out the other
and fell in the *** hole on the same winding road my family ended up on.
How I could never see
through their pain
a life they tried to better for me.
How my eyes
20/20
20/80
would never be strong enough
to see past the unreal
to what was right in front of me.
Love that went untouched for so long

If I ever have a kid
I would tell them how it all came back to me.
When my father stepped back in
as the others finally walked out
and
only one came back.
How my mother finally had the health to be happy
How my sister
gave me everything
that i tried to give her.
How my brother didn't except me
and i excepted that
finally
letting go .

They would know
how one dream
of amnesia
brought back the me that died
so long ago
when I choose my heart
over the one's who had put the heart there in the first place.

They will marvel,
they will hate,
and they will learn to love all the stories
both true
and fiction
that was me
and may they learn
as I did.

For if I never have a kid
then my mortality is gone
for what is our lives
without those to forever remember
as we sail out on our voyage
to steal the great ship of Bassette.
and sail to the world of peice we earn.
Once our future
understands our past

I miss it here,
Under this pale street lamp
Dry winds and conversing frogs
With the prayers of the mantis,
unheard by any God.

How I love it here,
With it's depressing skies  and diamond stars
Only exsisting to show off how "pretty" they all are

But though at times I do miss it here
Now I only miss you more

Memories haunt me
Of the times I had spent here within this space unknown
The green doors of my past, closed,
Forever more.

The chaos behind me
As I sit here, On this decaying porch
Missing you...
And wishing you could be sitting here too.

i sometimes sit and ponder
what my life would be like
with out the both of you

i suspect,
i would be some
small (uni) town
catlady, about sevencatcrazy
exsisting on takeaway chinese and rom coms

soglad you came along, happenstance as it was...

If I wrote suicide note...
It wouldn't be a love letter
If I wrote a suicide note
Would you be in it
Would it sadden your conviction
Would you be my hopeful light that made me leave with a smile
If you read the note
Would tear ducts flow
Would you caring make a difference
Woul I be pushed aside or would it be more delibrate
If I wrote a suicide note
Do you think I would end it
Would life crush me to the point
Thyat I would morlly want to end it
When you read it and the truth spilled out
Could it make or brake your attention
My hateful restitution
My loving resolution
What would be the reason
Today or tomorrow
If you wrote a suicide note
Would i be in it or make the difference





Have you ever thought every consequential second me just exsisting or emotions thick as resin
Would you cry knowing I did. The guilt would it **** you that I lived and you weren't around to care or do anything about it. If you were there and tried as hard as you could and love me with warmth and not responsibility as I would you. I left it in the note as my best and worst

The toxic fills me and I ravish in the moment,
I watch as the blood slowly stops,
Lessening with each passing moment,
I take one long sigh of relief but something is awry,
Tears well up in my eyes as I watch my arms,
The blood a beautiful crimson red still seeping out of me,
What have I done but add another scar,
I just added another reminder to all of my exsisting pain,
We all have our reasons and mine are hidden.
I refuse to let out the monsterous stories that created me,
I tried so hard to lock up the devil in me it's already free,
Constant fear of being caught washes through my mind,
Still who would see and who would bother to care,
My demise is inevitable,
It's all dependent on time
And soon enough my time will come,
My Time Of Death.

she disclaims her beauty has been long forbidden,
I will release the very low curve
of your manifesting back
lock it with mute fragility
and the furthest land away from absence

I sense curiculum
the binding of neverending days
overturnedto the same face
and the same wake up call
the long exsisting dream

venture you out
from the most brutal mortality
in my small hands
I will make you fit

your heavy
and your abudunace in character
murders me

but I will find
the right place
for you

precious torment

I have hidden away for so long
I will exhale my very breathe
the one which I have held in for so long
you see I was suffocating

tender,let go

Gracefully.

it is time my friend
to put my thoughts
on paper...
to write you

what my tongue denies
what my heart screams
in the middle of the night

it is time to speak in
the words etched upon
my bones
to give light to this
seed with in my soul

even as the ink blots the paper
my fears rise, and my courage quivers
to give this entity the substance
of words

is to give it the power
of freedom or destruction
but I am weary, so weary
from carrying its burden
through this long peroid
of gestation, I am beyond
beyond trying to carry
this thing with grace
and have now become
a lumbering leviathan
treading heavily through
each day,not evolving
or creating, just barely exsisting

So, if it be freedom,
there will be relief
if it be destruction
there will be release

No more dallying,
No more delay

You left, You died

leaving us behind
no recompense
no answers
just a ***** room
and unpaid bills
You, You, walked
out of life,

without
finishing the conversation
without
any explanation
without
care for others
without
thought for self

You told us nothing
You hid your hurt
till it was to late
till...it..was..too..too late

And tho
I WILL LOVE YOU
til the end of my days

Now,  I  hate....

I hate you are not here
I hate that I did not see
I hate that you did not ask
I hate the incompleteness
of it all

So my friend, I write
this to you...
then make it into
a paper boat
that I set on
the waters
before
lighting
it afire
in
the hopes
it will
bring
freedom

to be a speciman in a jar
inspected from all angles
not freedom,
no hopeful view
inspected for your shape,
your feelings, your i.q.

to tip and tap scream and
yell for help to free oneself,

to pace cyclically while the beat of
your innerclock ticks your
precious time away.

to watch the watchers,

hear them whispering,
gossiping, laughing,
pointing at you,

curled feotally, as far as
possible from the incessant
view.

to want one thing,
but have another.

to desire,
to emire oneself
in a,
crooked point of
view.

to be confused, restrained
by sundered synapse,
or
fixated on rythmn, numbers,
rhymes in order to get through.

to be  black ink stickmen,
in
an ink black room,
with a black dog,
chasing you....
growling out doom.

to be living a hell private
and encompassing while,
working  in uniform
oh so neat.

we are one and all,
the specimans,
incomplete.

the glass jar is there,
for
all who stumble in defeat.

....to be a speciman
in a jar
judged for ....



is a living death,
a soundless living hell

a far cry from heaven,
more an automated shell
walking, moving, talking,
exsisting.....
             in a jar...
                        ..... on a shelf.

I feel like over this past week you've fallen out of love with me. I mean, you've never been good at texting but at the same time where I am is six hours behind you. You're having fun, unlike me youre with people you like. Earlier you said you'd "text me when you could". I wish you'd make time to at least tell me how much fun you're having without me. Nothing, even when we're in the same time zone you don't really try. When you're home alone bored in sure I seem like I'm worth talking to. But never when your out. I can count on one hand how many times you've drunk called me. I wonder if you even ask if I can come along. Probably not. I'm having a really hard day. I wish you seemed like you cared more. I wish I was home. I wish I wasn't here anymore. I really doubt if I go to jail that you'd really wait. You've never been patient. I know because you burn yourself on pizza rolls and you cross roads when cars are coming. And I feel like I stop exsisting as soon as your busy. No matter how busy I keep myself I still remember I miss you. I wish you were the same.

and here comes the day when she no longer can feel her soul, the lullabies of her atom that used to move every substances inside her reckless personification. she is numb, but no longer have intention to overcome it. she was there, breathing, exsisting.

Just because your parents didn’t plan you doesn’t mean your a mistake and it doesn’t mean you are a accident either. You were simply a surprise. A surprise God wanted to perform miracles in people’s lives by giving them hope simply by exsisting. Your presence is the light in someone’s darkness, your smile lifts someone’s mood on a bad day and your friendship is enough to give someone strength to face another day. You matter. You are somebody’s world and you don’t even know it. The next time you feel like your a mistake remind yourself that your a surprise, a surprise who is loved tremendously.