"The Struggle for Love"
"The Longing for Home"
So desperate to prove
That our hearts aren't alone

While death looms wherewith
To make dust of our flesh
We seek in a myth
Our souls to enmesh

With a hero of hope
A rescuing source
To widen our scope
And give pith to our course

An unshakable tie
An attachment at core
Which might silence the cry
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

But it's not our mere lack
Which causes most dread
It's the earth-shattering fact
That our spirits are dead

Cut off from their Source
In a black alienation
Humanity's curse
For its rank ins'bordination

We just want our own way
And to write our own story
So we plunge on astray
To seek our own glory

To play artist or muse
Or idol or chief
Any self-styled ruse
To assuage us of grief

Any measure to show
A lasting signif'cance
So that someone would know
Our unique magnif'cence

For our beauty's been marred
And we crave a redemption
Of souls twisted and scarred
By fulfillment's exemption

But, alas, we will find
That search hard as we may
There's not one of our kind
Who can carry the tray

Upon which the weight
Of our souls has been laid
For who can e'er tolerate
Its gross debts unpaid?

Such suff'cating mass
Of defects and ills
Pressed 'gainst delicate glass
Of egos and wills

Still more ghastly to bear
Is devotion unbound
For with millstone to wear
Its master is drowned

'Neath a sea of foul yeast
And becomes the enslaved
To a hungering beast
To a worship depraved

For the heart is a tiger
And must have its fill
So it raises a man higher
With a kiss before the ****

Not intentionally, of course,
Does it slaughter its idol
But of hurricane force
Is this longing so vital

And as pedestal turns
So quickly to altar
Our wounded pride burns
When our gods and alms falter

And the fire of its rage
Turns upon its obsession
Tiger breaks out of cage
To reclaim self-possession

It bites and it tears
What it once so adored
And pride no longer cares
If it kills its false lord

But upon such demise
The soul screams in terror
For it's broken its prize
And can't take back its error

It begs and it pleads
To restore what's been lost
But at end knows it needs
To consider the cost

Of the damage untold
It has left in the wake
For hearts can't be controlled
With a gush or a shake

No, men's hearts are like bombs
Which so easily explode
Once the pin is removed
All past wrongs will re-load

So the prey becomes hunter
When the tiger attacks
For he does not want her
To see what he lacks

As he, too, had put
Her up in wrong place
But now steps his foot
Upon her shamed face

To now pulverize
As his own heart's been crushed
To blind out her eyes
And to see her lips hushed

For with words idly spoken
She'd stabbed at his soul
And had left his pride broken
By her judgments so cold

She had not meant to harm
Knew not e'en that he heard
But one cannot disarm
A thought put to word

Worse than not knowing this
She no longer knew him
And her once imagined bliss
Proved a nullified whim

Oh, what games and delusions
We play and we build
Upon empty illusions
And dreams unfulfilled

Yet strangely it's when
Our worst fears come true
We can finally transcend
All those old tales we grew

Out of ego and void
Out of sorrow and pain
When our nerves felt annoyed
And our hearts felt too vain

'Cause when ego is puffed
It is primed, too, to pop
And with pinprick is snuffed
Like a pest-blighted crop

So imagine much more
When a venom's injected
Right into its core
And its heart is rejected

But can you also not see
How it needs such a burst
To begin to get free
From its self-absorbed curse?

Except now feels the matter
Of our soul's isolation
Fiercer still with the shatter
Of our pet consolation

So we wait and we wonder
If we've missed the true meaning
Of the frightening thunder
In our heart's constant screaming

Whether homesick or lost
Whether lonely or grieved
Locked in bleak Winter's frost
We find little reprieve

Yet we know we've been made
For the glory of Spring
Some card's still to be played
Some grand song still to sing

Inexpressible yearning
For some secret we know
But can't speak for the burning
Repercussions of woe

Not some mere melancholy
Nor nostalgic forlorn
Not the musings of folly
But a sense that we're torn

From primordial root
And from headwaters fresh
Yet much deeper to boot
From our spiritual breath

'Tis an ache not for wares,
Appreciation or fame
But a fight just for air
Against strangling shame

For we're naked, we know
And with all we devise
Our most flawed parts still show
To a pure set of eyes

Like we're walking around
With no covering intact
But thin hospital gown
With wide split up the back

So we hide our true face
Aim to be what we're not
Work our blots to erase
Lest our schemes should be caught

Be 't by friend or by foe
We dare not risk the pain
Of humiliation's blow
On top of our stain

But instead of relief
Anguish grows louder till
This life's loneliest grief
Paralyzes the will

And last hope all but dies
On doubt's bed of despair
While embittered heart cries
That its lot's too unfair

Yet on outside we play
Through our unconscious mind
Man's collective charade
That everything's fine

Like some pact we'd all sworn
To uphold and obey
To protect from the scorn
Of society's sway

If we run with the flow
'Stead of strive 'gainst the tide
We might make enough show
To salvage our pride

We forget that conceit
Is what caused all the mess
Through a serpent's deceit
And a couple's wrong guess

'Twas they first tasted shame
And then hid in a garden
Sewing fig leaves as claim
To secure their own pardon

Yet in horror they knew
They had squandered the Prize
And must flee from the view
Of a pure set of eyes

Now same state of awry
Runs through each of their seed
Inborn and borne by
Like the thorniest ****

Whose nettles pierce deep
And infect every part
While roots tangle and sweep
Through the mind and the heart

It mocks what we've lost
Torments every dim hope
To constrict and accost
Like a noose-tightening rope

Still, hope won't be decayed
Smold'ring fires yet burn
Sparking hints that we're made
For bright Eden's return

This redemption we crave
Is no phantom's false plea
But as crestfallen wave
Hides itself in the sea

It's been veiled in plain sight
Big as all of our stories
Deep as mankind's full plight
And as high as its glories

Cloaked in every ambition
That we have to get in
To some exclusive coalition
For its favors to win

Lurks a bleeding predilection
Frustrated from birth
A desire for election
To bestow on us worth

Lured by scent of a promise
To be chosen and known
Like the warmth of a mom's kiss
Given only to her own

We search tree after tree
For sweet intimacy's nectar
From a fruit that will be
Our secret connecter

To hope's nourishing breast
To life's honey from comb
To an undying rest
To a straight way toward home

One to wipe away tears
And allay deepest doubt
Which proceeds from worst fears
Of our being locked out

Of a garden again
Cast from pure tree of life
Dim remembrance of when
Mankind first entered strife

All our conflicts, comp'tition,
Confusion and blame
Find first cause in perdition
That's invaded our frame

Like the foulest disease
The most cankerous rot
Grown by monstrous degrees
Hatched by Lucifer's plot

This story's no ****'s attack
Nor archaic folklore
But the earth-shattering fact
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

And it's not our mere lack
which causes most dread
But the earth-shattering fact
That our spirits are dead

Cut off from their Source
In a black alienation
Humanity's curse
For it's rank ins'bordination


And yet...


This is also the story
Of how those same eyes
The Possessor of Glory
Looked with love and heart cries

On the crown of creation
His reflection of Self
Made His own treasured nation
The heirs of His wealth

Now broken and lost
All banished from Garden
And He knew the full cost
To grant them His pardon

Had known long before
He had e'er even made
That first man of yore
Yet handcrafts anyway

For His love is so strong
And He wanted to share
His intimacy with a throng
His own children to bear

So with souls in convulsion
From their rebellious misdeed
Just before their expulsion
He promised a Seed

One untainted from sin
Who could take its great boulder
And the weight of His kin
Upon His own shoulder

A Hero of hope
A rescuing Source
To widen our scope
And give pith to our course

An unshakable tie
An attachment at core
Who would silence the cry
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

For those eyes are His own
And He'd pay the full fee
By His body alone
To set our hearts free

He's hope's nourishing breast
He's life's honey from comb
He's our undying rest
He's our straight way toward home

He will wipe away tears
And allay deepest doubt
Which proceeds from worst fears
Of our being locked out

Of the Garden again
Cast from pure Tree of Life
Dim remembrance of when
Mankind first entered strife

But 'twas on another tree
That sweet intimacy's nectar
Was secured tight when He
Became sacred Connector

And the thorns of our curse
Were pressed onto His head
With not one there to nurse
As the Son of Man bled

Then the wrath for our sin
Was absorbed as He cried
And the foul curse was broken
When the Son of God died

But death couldn't keep Him long
Nor His glory dispose
And we found our lost song
When the King of kings rose!

The debt had been paid
He had finished the work
The tide 'gainst us was swayed
We weren't left in our lurk

And we've only to now
Just repent and believe
To open and allow
Our hearts to receive

Our Divine Fountainhead
Our covering complete
To sup from His bread
And to sit at His feet

To worship the One
For Whom we were made
By Whom we've been won
Whom forever we've craved

The One Who can bear
Our hearts' full devotion
The One Who won't tear
At our souls' raw emotion

The One Who will be
Sweet eternity's song
Who with lasting decree
Will...right...every...wrong

' Inborn Poet ' - Poem by Marvin Brato Sr
Autoplay next video

Inborn talent
bards have
to express

Innate drive
intuitive mind
intimate feelings

All these
are factors
poets possess

To inscribe
poetic phrase
describes life

Poetry writing
is only an instrument
composing it is inborn

"The Struggle for Love"
"The Longing for Home"
So desperate to prove
That our hearts aren't alone

While death looms wherewith
To make dust of our flesh
We seek in a myth
Our souls to enmesh

With a hero of hope
A rescuing source
To widen our scope
And give pith to our course

An unshakable tie
An attachment at core
Which might silence the cry
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

But it's not our mere lack
Which causes most dread
It's the earth-shattering fact
That our spirits are dead

Cut off from their Source
In a black alienation
Humanity's curse
For its rank ins'bordination

We just want our own way
And to write our own story
So we plunge on astray
To seek our own glory

To play artist or muse
Or idol or chief
Any self-styled ruse
To assuage us of grief

Any measure to show
A lasting signif'cance
So that someone would know
Our unique magnif'cence

For our beauty's been marred
And we crave a redemption
Of souls twisted and scarred
By fulfillment's exemption

But, alas, we will find
That search hard as we may
There's not one of our kind
Who can carry the tray

Upon which the weight
Of our souls has been laid
For who can e'er tolerate
Its gross debts unpaid?

Such suff'cating mass
Of defects and ills
Pressed 'gainst delicate glass
Of egos and wills

Still more ghastly to bear
Is devotion unbound
For with millstone to wear
Its master is drowned

'Neath a sea of foul yeast
And becomes the enslaved
To a hungering beast
To a worship depraved

For the heart is a tiger
And must have its fill
So it raises a man higher
With a kiss before the ****

Not intentionally, of course,
Does it slaughter its idol
But of hurricane force
Is this longing so vital

And as pedestal turns
So quickly to altar
Our wounded pride burns
When our gods and alms falter

And the fire of its rage
Turns upon its obsession
Tiger breaks out of cage
To reclaim self-possession

It bites and it tears
What it once so adored
And pride no longer cares
If it kills its false lord

But upon such demise
The soul screams in terror
For it's broken its prize
And can't take back its error

It begs and it pleads
To restore what's been lost
But at end knows it needs
To consider the cost

Of the damage untold
It has left in the wake
For hearts can't be controlled
With a gush or a shake

No, men's hearts are like bombs
Which so easily explode
Once the pin is removed
All past wrongs will re-load

So the prey becomes hunter
When the tiger attacks
For he does not want her
To see what he lacks

As he, too, had put
Her up in wrong place
But now steps his foot
Upon her shamed face

To now pulverize
As his own heart's been crushed
To blind out her eyes
And to see her lips hushed

For with words idly spoken
She'd stabbed at his soul
And had left his pride broken
By her judgments so cold

She had not meant to harm
Knew not e'en that he heard
But one cannot disarm
A thought put to word

Worse than not knowing this
She no longer knew him
And her once imagined bliss
Proved a nullified whim

Oh, what games and delusions
We play and we build
Upon empty illusions
And dreams unfulfilled

Yet strangely it's when
Our worst fears come true
We can finally transcend
All those old tales we grew

Out of ego and void
Out of sorrow and pain
When our nerves felt annoyed
And our hearts felt too vain

'Cause when ego is puffed
It is primed, too, to pop
And with pinprick is snuffed
Like a pest-blighted crop

So imagine much more
When a venom's injected
Right into its core
And its heart is rejected

But can you also not see
How it needs such a burst
To begin to get free
From its self-absorbed curse?

Except now feels the matter
Of our soul's isolation
Fiercer still with the shatter
Of our pet consolation

So we wait and we wonder
If we've missed the true meaning
Of the frightening thunder
In our heart's constant screaming

Whether homesick or lost
Whether lonely or grieved
Locked in bleak Winter's frost
We find little reprieve

Yet we know we've been made
For the glory of Spring
Some card's still to be played
Some grand song still to sing

Inexpressible yearning
For some secret we know
But can't speak for the burning
Repercussions of woe

Not some mere melancholy
Nor nostalgic forlorn
Not the musings of folly
But a sense that we're torn

From primordial root
And from headwaters fresh
Yet much deeper to boot
From our spiritual breath

'Tis an ache not for wares,
Appreciation or fame
But a fight just for air
Against strangling shame

For we're naked, we know
And with all we devise
Our most flawed parts still show
To a pure set of eyes

Like we're walking around
With no covering intact
But thin hospital gown
With wide split up the back

So we hide our true face
Aim to be what we're not
Work our blots to erase
Lest our schemes should be caught

Be 't by friend or by foe
We dare not risk the pain
Of humiliation's blow
On top of our stain

But instead of relief
Anguish grows louder till
This life's loneliest grief
Paralyzes the will

And last hope all but dies
On doubt's bed of despair
While embittered heart cries
That its lot's too unfair

Yet on outside we play
Through our unconscious mind
Man's collective charade
That everything's fine

Like some pact we'd all sworn
To uphold and obey
To protect from the scorn
Of society's sway

If we run with the flow
'Stead of strive 'gainst the tide
We might make enough show
To salvage our pride

We forget that conceit
Is what caused all the mess
Through a serpent's deceit
And a couple's wrong guess

'Twas they first tasted shame
And then hid in a garden
Sewing fig leaves as claim
To secure their own pardon

Yet in horror they knew
They had squandered the Prize
And must flee from the view
Of a pure set of eyes

Now same state of awry
Runs through each of their seed
Inborn and borne by
Like the thorniest ****

Whose nettles pierce deep
And infect every part
While roots tangle and sweep
Through the mind and the heart

It mocks what we've lost
Torments every dim hope
To constrict and accost
Like a noose-tightening rope

Still, hope won't be decayed
Smold'ring fires yet burn
Sparking hints that we're made
For bright Eden's return

This redemption we crave
Is no phantom's false plea
But as crestfallen wave
Hides itself in the sea

It's been veiled in plain sight
Big as all of our stories
Deep as mankind's full plight
And as high as its glories

Cloaked in every ambition
That we have to get in
To some exclusive coalition
For its favors to win

Lurks a bleeding predilection
Frustrated from birth
A desire for election
To bestow on us worth

Lured by scent of a promise
To be chosen and known
Like the warmth of a mom's kiss
Given only to her own

We search tree after tree
For sweet intimacy's nectar
From a fruit that will be
Our secret connecter

To hope's nourishing breast
To life's honey from comb
To an undying rest
To a straight way toward home

One to wipe away tears
And allay deepest doubt
Which proceeds from worst fears
Of our being locked out

Of a garden again
Cast from pure tree of life
Dim remembrance of when
Mankind first entered strife

All our conflicts, comp'tition,
Confusion and blame
Find first cause in perdition
That's invaded our frame

Like the foulest disease
The most cankerous rot
Grown by monstrous degrees
Hatched by Lucifer's plot

This story's no ****'s attack
Nor archaic folklore
But the earth-shattering fact
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

And it's not our mere lack
which causes most dread
But the earth-shattering fact
That our spirits are dead

Cut off from their Source
In a black alienation
Humanity's curse
For its rank ins'bordination


And yet...


This is also the story
Of how those same eyes
The Possessor of Glory
Looked with love and heart cries

On the crown of creation
His reflection of Self
Made His own treasured nation
The heirs of His wealth

Now broken and lost
All banished from Garden
And He knew the full cost
To grant them His pardon

Had known long before
He had e'er even made
That first man of yore
Yet handcrafts anyway

For His love is so strong
And He wanted to share
His intimacy with a throng
His own children to bear

So with souls in convulsion
From their rebellious misdeed
Just before their expulsion
He promised a Seed

One untainted from sin
Who could take its great boulder
And the weight of His kin
Upon His own shoulder

A Hero of hope
A rescuing Source
To widen our scope
And give pith to our course

An unshakable tie
An attachment at core
Who would silence the cry
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

For those eyes are His own
And He'd pay the full fee
By His body alone
To set our hearts free

He's hope's nourishing breast
He's life's honey from comb
He's our undying rest
He's our straight way toward home

He will wipe away tears
And allay deepest doubt
Which proceeds from worst fears
Of our being locked out

Of the Garden again
Cast from pure Tree of Life
Dim remembrance of when
Mankind first entered strife

But 'twas on another tree
That sweet intimacy's nectar
Was secured tight when He
Became sacred Connector

And the thorns of our curse
Were pressed onto His head
With not one there to nurse
As the Son of Man bled

Then the wrath for our sin
Was absorbed as He cried
And the foul curse was broken
When the Son of God died

But death couldn't keep Him long
Nor His glory dispose
And we found our lost song
When the King of kings rose!

The debt had been paid
He had finished the work
The tide 'gainst us was swayed
We weren't left in our lurk

And we've only to now
Just repent and believe
To open and allow
Our hearts to receive

Our Divine Fountainhead
Our covering complete
To sup from His bread
And to sit at His feet

To worship the One
For Whom we were made
By Whom we've been won
Whom forever we've craved

The One Who can bear
Our hearts' full devotion
The One Who won't tear
At our souls' raw emotion

The One Who will be
Sweet eternity's song
Who with lasting decree
Will...right...every...wrong

"The Struggle for Love"
"The Longing for Home"
So desperate to prove
That our hearts aren't alone

While death looms wherewith
To make dust of our flesh
We seek in a myth
Our souls to enmesh

With a hero of hope
A rescuing source
To widen our scope
And give pith to our course

An unshakable tie
An attachment at core
Which might silence the cry
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

But it's not our mere lack
Which causes most dread
It's the earth-shattering fact
That our spirits are dead

Cut off from their Source
In a black alienation
Humanity's curse
For its rank ins'bordination

We just want our own way
And to write our own story
So we plunge on astray
To seek our own glory

To play artist or muse
Or idol or chief
Any self-styled ruse
To assuage us of grief

Any measure to show
A lasting signif'cance
So that someone would know
Our unique magnif'cence

For our beauty's been marred
And we crave a redemption
Of souls twisted and scarred
By fulfillment's exemption

But, alas, we will find
That search hard as we may
There's not one of our kind
Who can carry the tray

Upon which the weight
Of our souls has been laid
For who can e'er tolerate
Its gross debts unpaid?

Such suff'cating mass
Of defects and ills
Pressed 'gainst delicate glass
Of egos and wills

Still more ghastly to bear
Is devotion unbound
For with millstone to wear
Its master is drowned

'Neath a sea of foul yeast
And becomes the enslaved
To a hungering beast
To a worship depraved

For the heart is a tiger
And must have its fill
So it raises a man higher
With a kiss before the ****

Not intentionally, of course,
Does it slaughter its idol
But of hurricane force
Is this longing so vital

And as pedestal turns
So quickly to altar
Our wounded pride burns
When our gods and alms falter

And the fire of its rage
Turns upon its obsession
Tiger breaks out of cage
To reclaim self-possession

It bites and it tears
What it once so adored
And pride no longer cares
If it kills its false lord

But upon such demise
The soul screams in terror
For it's broken its prize
And can't take back its error

It begs and it pleads
To restore what's been lost
But at end knows it needs
To consider the cost

Of the damage untold
It has left in the wake
For hearts can't be controlled
With a gush or a shake

No, men's hearts are like bombs
Which so easily explode
Once the pin is removed
All past wrongs will re-load

So the prey becomes hunter
When the tiger attacks
For he does not want her
To see what he lacks

As he, too, had put
Her up in wrong place
But now steps his foot
Upon her shamed face

To now pulverize
As his own heart's been crushed
To blind out her eyes
And to see her lips hushed

For with words idly spoken
She'd stabbed at his soul
And had left his pride broken
By her judgments so cold

She had not meant to harm
Knew not e'en that he heard
But one cannot disarm
A thought put to word

Worse than not knowing this
She no longer knew him
And her once imagined bliss
Proved a nullified whim

Oh, what games and delusions
We play and we build
Upon empty illusions
And dreams unfulfilled

Yet strangely it's when
Our worst fears come true
We can finally transcend
All those old tales we grew

Out of ego and void
Out of sorrow and pain
When our nerves felt annoyed
And our hearts felt too vain

'Cause when ego is puffed
It is primed, too, to pop
And with pinprick is snuffed
Like a pest-blighted crop

So imagine much more
When a venom's injected
Right into its core
And its heart is rejected

But can you also not see
How it needs such a burst
To begin to get free
From its self-absorbed curse?

Except now feels the matter
Of our soul's isolation
Fiercer still with the shatter
Of our pet consolation

So we wait and we wonder
If we've missed the true meaning
Of the frightening thunder
In our heart's constant screaming

Whether homesick or lost
Whether lonely or grieved
Locked in bleak Winter's frost
We find little reprieve

Yet we know we've been made
For the glory of Spring
Some card's still to be played
Some grand song still to sing

Inexpressible yearning
For some secret we know
But can't speak for the burning
Repercussions of woe

Not some mere melancholy
Nor nostalgic forlorn
Not the musings of folly
But a sense that we're torn

From primordial root
And from headwaters fresh
Yet much deeper to boot
From our spiritual breath

'Tis an ache not for wares,
Appreciation or fame
But a fight just for air
Against strangling shame

For we're naked, we know
And with all we devise
Our most flawed parts still show
To a pure set of eyes

Like we're walking around
With no covering intact
But thin hospital gown
With wide split up the back

So we hide our true face
Aim to be what we're not
Work our blots to erase
Lest our schemes should be caught

Be 't by friend or by foe
We dare not risk the pain
Of humiliation's blow
On top of our stain

But instead of relief
Anguish grows louder till
This life's loneliest grief
Paralyzes the will

And last hope all but dies
On doubt's bed of despair
While embittered heart cries
That its lot's too unfair

Yet on outside we play
Through our unconscious mind
Man's collective charade
That everything's fine

Like some pact we'd all sworn
To uphold and obey
To protect from the scorn
Of society's sway

If we run with the flow
'Stead of strive 'gainst the tide
We might make enough show
To salvage our pride

We forget that conceit
Is what caused all the mess
Through a serpent's deceit
And a couple's wrong guess

'Twas they first tasted shame
And then hid in a garden
Sewing fig leaves as claim
To secure their own pardon

Yet in horror they knew
They had squandered the Prize
And must flee from the view
Of a pure set of eyes

Now same state of awry
Runs through each of their seed
Inborn and borne by
Like the thorniest ****

Whose nettles pierce deep
And infect every part
While roots tangle and sweep
Through the mind and the heart

It mocks what we've lost
Torments every dim hope
To constrict and accost
Like a noose-tightening rope

Still, hope won't be decayed
Smold'ring fires yet burn
Sparking hints that we're made
For bright Eden's return

This redemption we crave
Is no phantom's false plea
But as crestfallen wave
Hides itself in the sea

It's been veiled in plain sight
Big as all of our stories
Deep as mankind's full plight
And as high as its glories

Cloaked in every ambition
That we have to get in
To some exclusive coalition
For its favors to win

Lurks a bleeding predilection
Frustrated from birth
A desire for election
To bestow on us worth

Lured by scent of a promise
To be chosen and known
Like the warmth of a mom's kiss
Given only to her own

We search tree after tree
For sweet intimacy's nectar
From a fruit that will be
Our secret connecter

To hope's nourishing breast
To life's honey from comb
To an undying rest
To a straight way toward home

One to wipe away tears
And allay deepest doubt
Which proceeds from worst fears
Of our being locked out

Of a garden again
Cast from pure tree of life
Dim remembrance of when
Mankind first entered strife

All our conflicts, comp'tition,
Confusion and blame
Find first cause in perdition
That's invaded our frame

Like the foulest disease
The most cankerous rot
Grown by monstrous degrees
Hatched by Lucifer's plot

This story's no ****'s attack
Nor archaic folklore
But the earth-shattering fact
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

And it's not our mere lack
which causes most dread
But the earth-shattering fact
That our spirits are dead

Cut off from their Source
In a black alienation
Humanity's curse
For it's rank ins'bordination


And yet...


This is also the story
Of how those same eyes
The Possessor of Glory
Looked with love and heart cries

On the crown of creation
His reflection of Self
Made His own treasured nation
The heirs of His wealth

Now broken and lost
All banished from Garden
And He knew the full cost
To grant them His pardon

Had known long before
He had e'er even made
That first man of yore
Yet handcrafts anyway

For His love is so strong
And He wanted to share
His intimacy with a throng
His own children to bear

So with souls in convulsion
From their rebellious misdeed
Just before their expulsion
He promised a Seed

One untainted from sin
Who could take its great boulder
And the weight of His kin
Upon His own shoulder

A Hero of hope
A rescuing Source
To widen our scope
And give pith to our course

An unshakable tie
An attachment at core
Who would silence the cry
That our hearts are at war

With a pure set of eyes
Full of fire and proficient
To dispel all the lies
That our souls aren't deficient

For those eyes are His own
And He'd pay the full fee
By His body alone
To set our hearts free

He's hope's nourishing breast
He's life's honey from comb
He's our undying rest
He's our straight way toward home

He will wipe away tears
And allay deepest doubt
Which proceeds from worst fears
Of our being locked out

Of the Garden again
Cast from pure Tree of Life
Dim remembrance of when
Mankind first entered strife

But 'twas on another tree
That sweet intimacy's nectar
Was secured tight when He
Became sacred Connector

And the thorns of our curse
Were pressed onto His head
With not one there to nurse
As the Son of Man bled

Then the wrath for our sin
Was absorbed as He cried
And the foul curse was broken
When the Son of God died

But death couldn't keep Him long
Nor His glory dispose
And we found our lost song
When the King of kings rose!

The debt had been paid
He had finished the work
The tide 'gainst us was swayed
We weren't left in our lurk

And we've only to now
Just repent and believe
To open and allow
Our hearts to receive

Our Divine Fountainhead
Our covering complete
To sup from His bread
And to sit at His feet

To worship the One
For Whom we were made
By Whom we've been won
Whom forever we've craved

The One Who can bear
Our hearts' full devotion
The One Who won't tear
At our souls' raw emotion

The One Who will be
Sweet eternity's song
Who with lasting decree
Will...right...every...wrong

I can't wait till I'm awake..
Plugged into the wall.
Nothing noted until the shell of the capsule
collapses under the weight of your trembling hands.

No there is no notation for what was said between us, just figure-less voices and a strenuous pain that strained our throats for the fear of nothing being communicated between the exasperated gasps of what was less than incommunicable silence.

Ugly is not a word but a feeling applied with meaning, applied to a certain truth about that metallic taste in my mouth, that tearful pain jostled in my chest and that consuming fear.

  I know little of what this ugliness could mean other than it harbors shame in my corners. This shame is not inborn in anyone, but it builds it's presence as a drunken braggart who shouts obscenities and believes he is a prince of highest regard.

His ugliness is in what he slings from his tongue and his criticisms of all who in his mind toil about. But he is simply a angry troll with no heart and delusions of grandeur, frittering away time.. for time stands as an eternal judge and measure.

words fail to describe
the beauty and peace
found in the mountains sublime

the scenic panorama of the place
is captured so well
by those who live in
the mountain's veld

of trees towering to skies of indigo blue
of squirrels owls and fireflies
of streams pristine and pure  

within the province
of mountain kin's hearts  
there is an intrinsic
soulful yoke
inborn
of the mountain's
heritage

Lips touched
passion sought
standing still listening
to our hearts, wanting so much
the others lives, so we will ever fall
drinking our fill of our dearest hearts
and then we must part, the pain we feel.....
That moment our lips wrote poetry
on the canvas of our hearts
from our eyes to kisses,
are a must, wanting
our passion
to the
fullest.

Debbie Brooks 2014

STROPHE IV

Though Zeus plan all things right,
Yet is his heart's desire full hard to trace;
Nathless in every place
Brightly it gleameth, e'en in darkest night,
Fraught with black fate to man's speech-gifted race.

ANTISTROPHE IV

Steadfast, ne'er thrown in fight,
The deed in brow of Zeus to ripeness brought;
For wrapt in shadowy night,
Tangled, unscanned by mortal sight,
Extend the pathways of his secret thought.

STROPHE V

From towering hopes mortals he hurleth prone
To utter doom; but for their fall
No force arrayeth he; for all
That gods devise is without effort wrought.
A mindful Spirit aloft on holy throne
By inborn energy achieves his thought.

ANTISTROPHE V

But let him mortal insolence behold:--
How with proud contumacy rife,
Wantons the stem in ***** life
My marriage craving;--frenzy over-bold,
Spur ever-pricking, goads them on to fate,
By ruin taught their folly all too late.

STROPHE VI

Thus I complain, in piteous strain,
Grief-laden, tear-evoking, shrill;
Ah woe is me! woe! woe!
Dirge-like it sounds; mine own death-trill
I pour, yet breathing vital air.
Hear, hill-crowned Apia, hear my prayer!
Full well, O land,
My voice barbaric thou canst understand;
While oft with rendings I assail
My byssine vesture and Sidonian veil.

ANTISTROPHE VI

My nuptial right in Heaven's pure sight
Pollution were, death-laden, rude;
Ah woe is me! woe! woe!
Alas for sorrow's murky brood!
Where will this billow hurl me? Where?
Hear, hill-crowned Apia, hear my prayer;
Full well, O land,
My voice barbaric thou canst understand,
While oft with rendings I assail
My byssine vesture and Sidonian veil.

STROPHE VII

The oar indeed and home with sails
Flax-tissued, swelled with favoring gales,
Staunch to the wave, from spear-storm free,
Have to this shore escorted me,
Nor so far blame I destiny.
But may the all-seeing Father send
In fitting time propitious end;
So our dread Mother's mighty brood,
The lordly couch may 'scape, ah me,
Unwedded, unsubdued!

ANTISTROPHE VII

Meeting my will with will divine,
Daughter of Zeus, who here dost hold
Steadfast thy sacred shrine,--
Me, Artemis unstained, behold,
Do thou, who sovereign might dost wield,
****** thyself, a ****** shield;

So our dread Mother's mighty brood
The lordly couch may 'scape, ah me,
Unwedded, unsubdued!

Desire - the detrimental nature of men.
The untouchedness of women,
The innocence of childhood.
Burnt into ashes. Gone.

How I wish Ticktock was my greatest thief,
So innocence would not have left me so early.
Fragments of memories scar my soul,
Yet. Pain, unfelt.

I was four - I was loved.
My stolen innocence,
My untold story.
Life. Long gone.

Sunlight, sunlight, you are my eternal sunlight,
whilst all but tender and benign is the night.
And you shine on me like the collapsing moon
but lurk away as morn greets our humanity too soon.
You can sometimes be obscure but real;
and your soul is the ring my poet's heart wants to steal.
Your love is too frequently demanded
Yet as you gaze into me it might just be finally authenticated.
Run, run, as I did once from your thin figure
with flashes of anger and loath but unsure.
How when you are mad you look but tiresome and timid
Odd as it is, as to your very liveliness and inborn wit.
But you are simply too genuine and weak and true
and with your smile you often touch my heart
just like our nature's undying morning dew.

Oh, my secret love-just as it is now and again,
tell me now how to cure this deafening pain.
I might have never told you I love you,
but inside am sure that you love me too.
Probably it is just my longing that is too shy
but how it can ever be please never ask me why.
For in your name I wish never to tell a lie
But whenever dusk comes my secret will be gone
as to truly embrace only the meaning of your sun.
In my dear heart you are somehow mine,
just like I might already be within thine
But how the world will blacken and wrong us
if we give way and surrender to this lust.
Look, my love, at how the trees and birds sing!
With peace at heart they form one loyal lavish string
On this country's honest farms and soil
So that their own joy they shall never spoil.
Hark, darling, hark how they dance throughout the foliage!
Ah! Just like the melodies buried far down in your cleavage
You are now and again my very own vivid shadow,
that trusts my poems and be with me
as I overcome the bleeding tomorrow.

And be with me and the chorus in my dear heart
Although this world seems cruel and is but to tear us apart
As at only your breath my womanhood raves;
and for only your veins my delight and soliloquy craves.
In your manliness my whole solitude shall rejoice
meanwhile my dimmed heart brightens at your grand voice.
Oh! How I want to leave you not-to my destined sphere!
How my blood is stained by and reeks of fear,
and as mischievous like springs are towards bitter snow,
whenst they are to warm off its whining skin
and so scornfully send away whose glow.

O my love, my love! Then tell me just fervently once more
before I needst to leave and walk outside the door.
Release me from this sinister unloved hell
and free me from my single nutshell.
Tell me how you love me, and long to age with me
within the rustic village behind the maple tree.
Amongst the loveliness of the old church and parish
Next to the brown grass and green pond of fish.
And at night, how shall we sit amidst those witty bushes
with two cups of tea and due pairs of romantic torches.
But please, please be with me, and be mine-mine, only-
o my love, thus leave me not within this dire uncertainty
as long as I breathe still and my heart beats within me
but make me stay here and forever crave for thee,
as far as love can go, and as deep as eyes can see.

Over green meadow
The freak run
The rock, the sun, charisma
Inborn wilderness
Heat, dust flying over
Head bang, dance and neigh
Exhilarating Grace
Enigmatic Amaze

Dark horse, beauty black
Golden one and the redhead
White elf, ohh the spotted
Sunshine daylight, rainbow earth
Forward tribe, believers' trust  
Streak of dreams, a nature's glare
Charming prayers, Gazing stare

Temptations hush
Emotions gush
Knowing of the kind
Knowing of the harsh
Of the bold ,and the free
Showering Bliss
Throughout history

A seeker, an observer
An adventurer
A friend, an undercover
Calm and steady
Innocence
Strong will
Wilderness and free

Deep onto truth
High into truth
Flying deep
Knowing Within
Knowing Without
Enlightenment
And Reality

The nature's way
Nature's advocate
Pioneers
Symbol of strength
Wild and free
Wild horses set you free

The Great Niagra Falls
Spilling over like my love
loose and reckless
alive and fruitful

And having found a source
an outlet for this outpouring love
this deep inborn desire to say 'yes'
with all of me; my life

This thick lust for life
and for love
and this perfect intuition
to give it all away

I am proud to be alive.
And to have the capacity
in my bones and in my flesh
to say 'yes' with all of me

So small and so fragile
yet having existed forever.

Nonetheless, impermanent, I am.
Here to make a permanent mark
with this pen and this paper
and this racing heart
so uniquely my own
and so beautifully similar to the rest.

All here through the great devotional
journey of our ancestors
so gladly outpouring life,
like the great Niagra Falls
Into the present moment,
into our hands

And so,
I pick up this pen
and I write.

Clawing up grey walls,
stumbling on,
breaking nails off
paper and ink,
in silver screen
dreams
they haunt,
if you ignore
them cause you could be like them
if you ignore
the qualities you bring, inborn,
since you can't be
what you see,
what's your worth
to redeem?
I repeat:

Why are you alive when you could be dead?
Hide your hideousness, plebeian.
The silver I love, the love that I want, lies just behind
your, "Lovely Countenance".

By Debbie Brooks
and: Dee

Lips touched
passion sought
standing still listening
to our hearts, wanting so much
the others lives, so we will ever fall
drinking our fill of our dearest hearts
and then we must part, the pain we feel.....

That moment our lips wrote poetry
on the canvas of our hearts
from our eyes to kisses,
are a must, wanting
our passion
to the
fullest...
________

The work of art that we created
Was not an outline,
On the roof of the heart’s cathedral
It was a breathtaking fresco
Painted centuries ago
By Michelangelo.

If ever you feel sad and lonely
Just reach up and let
Your fingers roam free,
You’ll trace the contours
Of your and my mind
Kept alive by that
Pulsating heart…

one more day under the rays
of a strange and merciless sun.
one more day to pour out your blood,
your sweat, your tears.
one more day to fight the inborn urge you have
to tune out the drone of a leader
and, instead, march to the perfectly imperfect beat
of your own drum.

one more day stuck in the grasp
of the same small town.
one more day to write, to paint, to sing,
to keep my mind as busy as possible.
one more day to fight the inborn urge i have
to get in my car
and drive down
one hundred highways
just to tell you
that
i
love
you.

hypocrite
play
noun hyp·o·crite \ˈhi-pə-ˌkrit\
Popularity: Top 1% of lookups
Simple Definition of hypocrite
• : a person who claims or pretends to have certain beliefs about what is right but who behaves in a way that disagrees with those beliefs
<http://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/hypocrite>
Full Definition of hypocrite
1. 1 :  a person who puts on a false appearance of virtue or religion
2. 2 :  a person who acts in contradiction to his or her stated beliefs or feelings
hypocrite adjective

H2611
חָנֵף
chânêph
khaw-nafe'
From H2610; soiled (that is, with sin), impious: - hypocrite (-ical).

H120
אָדָם
'âdâm
aw-dawm'
From H119; ruddy, that is, a human being (an individual or the species, mankind, etc.): - X another, + hypocrite, + common sort, X low, man (mean, of low degree), person.

G5273
ὑποκριτής
hupokritēs
hoop-ok-ree-tace'
From G5271; an actor under an assumed character (stage player), that is, (figuratively) a dissembler (“hypocrite”): - hypocrite.

Full Definition of mortal
1. 1 :  causing or having caused death :  fatal <a mortal injury>
2. 2 a :  subject to death <mortal man> b :  possible, conceivable <have done every mortal thing> c :  deadly 3 <waited three mortal hours>
3. 3 :  marked by unrelenting hostility <a mortal enemy>
4. 4 :  marked by great intensity or severity <mortal fear>
5. 5 :  human <mortal limits>
6. 6 :  of, relating to, or connected with death <mortal agony>
natural
play
adjective nat·u·ral \ˈna-chə-rəl, ˈnach-rəl\
Popularity: Top 20% of words
Simple Definition of natural
• : existing in nature and not made or caused by people : coming from nature
• : not having any extra substances or chemicals added : not containing anything artificial
• : usual or expected
Full Definition of natural
1. 1 :  based on an inherent sense of right and wrong <natural justice>
2. 2 a :  being in accordance with or determined by nature b :  having or constituting a classification based on features existing in nature
3. 3 a (1) :  begotten as distinguished from adopted; also :  legitimate (2) :  being a relation by actual consanguinity as distinguished from adoption <natural parents> b :  illegitimate <a natural child>
4. 4 :  having an essential relation with someone or something :  following from the nature of the one in question <his guilt is a natural deduction from the evidence>
5. 5 :  implanted or being as if implanted by nature :  seemingly inborn <a natural talent for art>
6. 7 :  having a specified character by nature <a natural athlete>
7. 8 a :  occurring in conformity with the ordinary course of nature :  not marvelous or supernatural <natural causes> b :  formulated by human reason alone rather than revelation <natural religion> <natural rights> c :  having a normal or usual character <events followed their natural course>
8. 9 :  possessing or exhibiting the higher qualities (as kindliness and affection) of human nature <a noble … brother … ever most kind and natural — Shakespeare>
9. 11 a :  being in a state of nature without spiritual enlightenment :  unregenerate <natural man> b :  living in or as if in a state of nature untouched by the influences of civilization and society
10. 12 a :  having a physical or real existence as contrasted with one that is spiritual, intellectual, or fictitious <a corporation is a legal but not a natural person> b :  of, relating to, or operating in the physical as opposed to the spiritual world <natural laws describe phenomena of the physical universe>
11. 13 a :  closely resembling an original :  true to nature b :  marked by easy simplicity and freedom from artificiality, affectation, or constraint c :  having a form or appearance found in nature







so let it rip let it roar let it out hear my soar
My sigh of uncontent, in comes unrelenting
Always seeking more, more, more of me , more push me down,
More why didn’t you, more why haven't you, more why couldn’t you,
I a hypocrite, I know, I know it,
I am the addict who fights, to make it through the night.
I say just one more drink, until the bottles gone.
I say just one more hit, until, we crumple an empty bag.
I say just one more high, as I stick it in my foot, so that no one will see.
I say just one more donut, as we eat the very last one.
I say just one more 5, until, I now I lost my home.
I am a hypocrite, I am also human.
I am a hypocrite, I mess up, makes mistakes I forget.
I am a hypocrite, I only drink on weekends, but you should not smoke ****.
I judge you for sinning different, know why?
I am a hypocrite, I am also human.

I am the single mom, who said I'll never do that,
But when you see your baby cry, it should be why didn’t I.
We don’t know where we will go, we don’t know what lies ahead,
We don’t know what trials await, or what s around the bend.
We don’t know what our futures holds, who will end up holding us,
We don’t love, really, we are human, we know a bit.

We say don’t ****, but an unborn child is just, tissue,
We say don’t do drugs, but please do take this pill.
We say don’t steal, until we are the one who is hungry,
We say don’t ******, until, your family is threatened.
We say don’t covet, this or that, until its you, who has no shoe.
We say don’t lie, until, its you who child's life is in the balance,
We say don’t commit adultery, until, its your, husband you found cheating,
We say don't put anything before our GOD, until, its time to go fishing, (or watch the game.)
We say don’t give in, until, it s your pain, that’s killing you.
We say don’t give up, but please don’t ask me.
We say don’t go hungry, unless you smell too bad,

We say don’t let them , in until, that just so happens,
We say don't take it anymore, it doesn't help.
We say don’t think that way, unless that’s all you have ever heard,
We say don’t let your children, play that game, until that one day.
We say don’t feed your kids junk, but that’s all we can afford,
We say don’t work too hard, life will go by to quickly.
We say, I am not sick, as you sneeze and cough,
We say, I didn’t mean, to as we do it again,
We say, I didn’t mean it that way, but inside we really did,
We say, my undying love, as we give it to someone else,
We say, I'll never hurt you.
I am a hypocrite. I am also human.

We say, I'll always be there for you, yet never answer the phone.
We say I'll always love my child no matter what, until, they say I'm gay,
We say I'll always be truthful, until, the truth just hurts to think,
We say I'll always be listen, when all we did was tell it to others,
We say, I'll help you with anything, and then you ask.
We say, I'll always listen, until we go to talk,
We say I'll help you anytime, except, Tuesday, at 2 o'clock.
We say, I didn’t mean to hurt, you, but we did it anyway,
We say, I'll never leave you, as we walk away,
I am a hypocrite. I am also human.

We say I never drink, except, on weekends, occasionally on Wednesday, but you should not smoke ****.
Why I wonder is **** so terrible, in the minds of those who don’t smoke, but can drink on a regular basis.
Is alcohol better for you than ****. Just putting out an amazing truthful statement.
Alcohol is man made ..and who made ****?

We say I'll never let my kids get involved in drugs, except, the school says I have too because he has too much energy.
We say I'll never make my kid, angry, but as A PARENT, we should that is our job.
We say I'll never be that mom, who lets their kids, smoke, cigarettes, as we puff away.
We say I'll never judge them, unless of course they did ____.
I am a hypocrite. I am also human.

I say I'll never trust again, as we pick a stranger up.
I say I'll never love again, like that, until we go all in, yet again.
I say I'll never forget, and what was it that happened again?
I say I'll never be mad about this, until, they spill it one more time.
I say I'll never hit again, but they made me so so so mad.
I say that I am a Christian, but can hurt my children behind closed doors.
I say that I am a Christian, but I will, cut down every other religion.
I say that I am a Christian, yet I swear like a sailor, or worse.
I say that I am a Christian, as I come to church hungover.
(side note, guess what JESUS LOVES, even after we mess up…..continually)
I say that I am a Christian, as I look down my nose, at those with tattoos.
I say that I am a Christian, but I won't look my neighbor in the eye.
I say that I am a Christian, but please don’t ask me, for help.
I say that I am a Christian, as I lock, my door, to hide, from others.
I say that I am a Christian, as in my mind, I am not really caring about what you are going through.
I say that I am a Christian, as I forget to read my BIBLE everyday.
I say that I am a Christian, as I forget to pray, for anyone.
I say that I am a Christian, although I never go to church.
I say that I am a Christian, but I can never spare a dollar, for the offering.
I say that I am a Christian, I judge every new person who comes to my church.
I say that I am a Christian, as I play with the devils toys.
I say that I am a Christian, as I pretend to be what others see.
I say that I am a Christian, as I talk ***** to a friend.
I say that I am a Christian, as I sell pills, when no one sees.
I say that I am a Christian, as I light up my pipe.
I say that I am a Christian, as I tell my kids to go away.
I say that I am a Christian, as I tell you, I love you, to your face.
I say that I am a Christian, as I gossip about what I know you did.
I say that I am a Christian, as I show up to church as late as I want.
I say that I am a Christian, as I never will, associate with those people.
I say I am a hypocrite. I know that I am human. I know a loving GOD.
I SAY I am a hypocrite. I know that I make mistakes. I know a forgiving GOD.
I say I am a hypocrite. I know I did it again. I know a merciful GOD.
I SAY I am a hypocrite. I know I lied to them. I know a faithful GOD.

I say I am a hypocrite. How can I be? How can I be, ? How can I be?
How can I be anything but human?
I know I try. I know I've tried. I know this, I know you've cried.
How can I not be a hypocrite. I quit again. It was so hard.

We say I'll never let my kids do that, except we do.
We say I'll never do that, then we did,
We say I'll never say that to my child, until, one day we did,
We say I'll never hit a woman, until, that day, she said something, I didn’t like so I did.
We say I'll never go all night without. And yet we did.
We say I'll never have a man who loves me, and then we find one, and we don’t know how.
We say I'll never be mean or hurtful, and yet that’s all we do,
We say I'll never tell, and yet from your mouth it comes,
We say I'll never become an addict, until I first shot up,
We say I'll never smoke cigarettes, until that first hit,
We say I'll never drink, my mom, did , no way, until your at college far away.
We say I'll never take from another person, until, its their husband you take from them,
We say I'll never use, until that one, at that one party, just that one time,

We say we need to slow down, as we rush on by,
We say we need to take our time, as we look for the short cut,
We say we need to look closer, until, that’s all we see is screen,
We say we need to dig deeper, yet there's nothing left to dig with,
We say we need a helper, until, its someone who helps us, we turn away,
We say we need a lover, until, the loving becomes too much,
We say we need more time with our family, and it’s the thing we most avoid.
We say we need more family's , but there's no time, we work too hard, have nothing left to dig with, we are busy with . Working to pay the bills to support our families (at minimum wage) when the price on everything has GONE UP. Who? What? When ? How? Will we ever, if we never.
Anyone know the answer…. I didn’t think so , but I know the One who does.
I am a hypocrite. I am also human.

The whole and the apex of things,
In a curvy lane of made up events,
Secretly cheating on self and relevant slaves,
Trusting an artificial flow of sands,
Inverting and unfolding the tone of the Caller,
Which efforts are not blessed by hope,
Born and bred into an automated mechanism,
No chance of waking up or defeating the incorrect,
Raised questions are easily filled,
An eternally examined organism at its knees,
Fainted chaos into unreality,
Flush the shape of the caged race,
Trapped by their weakness,
Trust, truth, the inborn curse.

Immortal, Immortal, my very own Immortal, can you still even hear me? I wanted to mention another, but instead I am calling out your name.

Immortal. That is how I always called you, little darling; you really are like a little darling, with your bulbous brown eyes and solid red mouth. With your sweet-flavoured jokes and archaic compulsions. You are like a buoyant flower that often speaks from its inside. You smell just like the black sweater you are always encircled in; you smell like one array of strawberries, lavenders, and musk blended into one wondrous potion. Ha-ha. You are wild; you are free; you are the inborn sweat of stormy nature itself. But to me you are the one chosen. You are like a youth that never blossoms; a sky that knows not the litter of adulthood. You are my sweet, my elegance, my butterfly.

But you always failed to catch a butterfly. Once there was one who briefly landed on your shoulder; in an attempt to hurl his little self back into the solidarity of the skies. You sang about the whole world like the moon did; but you were never incarcerated within your universe. Instead, you created even a more passionate one.

Immortal, Immortal, where are but you, my love? I peruse His verses and cite His name every day; in order that you feel my affection and touch even just the slighted shadow of mine, in your dreams. Bygone memories are still rowing within my head; and as their sheen touches my lips; I am sure I shall see you again, when He decrees. Ah, Immortal, how I want to see you become pure; and unite yourself with Him within his fortress, my love flowing beside you, freeing you from this world's ungodly torture.

Obicham te. I miss you, my dear, more than hysteria can assume; nor any disparity can have thought of. My morning dew, my noon, my sunset, all are but attended in thee.

Obicham te. Obicham te. Obicham te.

I miss you so much. Sadly, perhaps you'll never know that.

They were in the parapsychological hypnosis session unmoved by everything that could happen. The journey of a lifetime through the hidden spaces of past existence was virtual reality. It all begins in antiquity where Vernarth was transported to Hypno to reunite with his inborn and his comrades. He proved to be a great defender of libertarian ideals and above all not to betray his formation of great leaders of the largest empire, with immeasurable feats and achievements of this super experience of reunion in a past world with more reunions for having lived and returned to revive them. The expert director of this great feat, acknowledged never having attended anything that compares to him, it is an unprecedented fact and that would mark a new milestone in his specialty and the study of parapsychology. The doctor together with his assistants had to reevaluate a new policy of systemic or therapies, in exchange for their own way of life, generating the greatest plan of digression from this conjectured intercommunicated, to planes and dimensions of the ancestral memory of everything. Created, and those that its beneficiaries have been able to verify. In the vicinity of the clinical consultation, hundreds of people, onlookers, journalists, and the media took risks. To which one of them asks the doctor: Journalist: “Dear Sir, I was having a coffee… just when I heard about this phenomenal news. We decided to come to his interview. I consult you. What has been the greatest tenor that has been differentiated from the rest of the procedures that he has performed, and how will his method be in the future to reconvert his specialty? Parapsychologist says: “there are undoubtedly innumerable connections in our lives and beyond ...., But now I have found routes that I did not think I was capable of knowing in this instance. I think that now they will be more than they could count in an active professional life”

At that moment, his assistant called him urgently to tell him that an emergency had occurred. They both hurry and enter the cabin. And they manage to perceive that Vernarth was with the clothes on a sofa, at the time of the exploits of 331 BC. C. explaining that he requested excuses for his demands and needs, but he had much to propose and deliver to his comrades who were in Bumodos. Considering his beloved wife, Walekiria, he was as always preparing elixirs and essences for the recipe restoration of her breastplate and his limbs. He had an urgency to improve this whole process before the next Ekadashi, to get ready with new stages of his worksheet. Without a doubt he should go back to Patmos to take care of the pantry and library of St. John the Evangelist, he had to restore local buildings, house rooms, temples, regional development works, and regional art. Another elementary task was to take charge of agriculture, and to obey Hera's designs, for the next millennia to re-awaken the cultures that survive on her. Another of his great passionate conventions was to ride through Macedonia, through the sunrises at the time that it crosses the grassy pastures and the proliferation of the hieratic insects, when the Oracle of Dodona polished its germinated seeds in the arms of dawn turned into Fireflies. He flew with his horse, seeming to be acclaimed from all over the world for his "Liturgical Conclave." To surrender in his integrity in the residences of time on Alikanto, beyond all the Ages and the Millennia, unable to evade the dishonored paths by the consolidation of a new firmament. Incalculable times Vernarth and Alikantus are appreciated as they crash into the glittering valleys and regions, encapsulating themselves in the fields with the golden hooves of their steed, inaugurating the new resurgence of their adventures, which are more than the same God, who would entrust them to a restless individual to reissue Genesis, or a new collaborative proposal with the Evangelist on Patmos and Áullos Kósmos shaking the wind fog tunnels of Wonthelimar.

Song of Stratonice: "in the marble, he spent the night in white Apeiron and its infinite indeterminate matter, devoid of quality and found in the eternal movement of the Eolionimi, where a snowy savior has to take refuge in its womb, from Áullos Kósmos or paradise of Vernarth. The Basilisk and Satan will take each other by submission, each dying in solitude and abandonment in his own scale. Perversity has no cure or repair in the behaviors of its confinement, the millennial kingdom will be stuck in the centennial, having to be justice for the remains of their own children. Regarding the human spirit during all periods of history, there will be a nomological kingdom that without the word will say what life rescues in the emetics, and the facets of the Katapausis that will make amends for the Hebrew diffusions, in weight of the ferrule prop that embraces the Zefian's bolt, falling from the top. The two-sided enthusiasm will cross the rocky embankment at the top of Profitis Ilias, thus with tender meters crossing the Sanctified Absorption Fero and Humanitarian Salvation”

What is but should not be
         passed on is
                War
so when we coil aggressively into a
       double helix bond
             covalently
If we think of Love and Peace
        while reproducing
               Would
our child be a new generation
           without the
               instinct
         inborn to ****?

These Circles, that they be Linked or Exchanged
Harness the Janitor in me maintain
Though Depressed be my Blinding Mind deranged
Help to Embalm this Un-Relenting Pain
These Sages through Time by their Words endow
And cause Wisdom one's Joy through Skin avoid
To force my Soul its Inborn Blessings enrouse -
Shake your Sugars from this fail-tripped Colloid
That's Milk to you. If your Matters be Sweet
Then carry your Mornings free from my Sense
As such would I, rake the Roots off your feet
And pledge my Sharp Evenings to recompense.
Funny how Loss, its Cross mint Cool Relief
Upon the Monk's Throne absolved your Belief.

‬

Get my life away from myself?
No, please don't!
Overprotective to me?
Please don't be

Sincere. I am
Will get every of my work done myself
Can make choices for myself
Can decide for myself
If I ask for a favor
Make it happen, if you like to
If not,
Make it happen , you may not
No worries for sure
Overprotective to me?
Please don't be

Get your insecurities overrule my presence,
No, please don't!
Get over my life, please don't
Its mine
Get my life away from myself?
No, please don't!
Overprotective to me?
Please don't be

Its making me dull
Its making me forget the passion
Its overshadowing myself
Its getting me lazy
Its getting me get to not decide for myself

Right to decide for myself, I have
Right to decide for my truth
Right to mold my own thoughts
Right to become not influenced
Right to choose my thought process
Right to be independent
The human right, inborn

Independence
Is what shapes life with passion
No, its not ignorance
Undermine my choices in life
You have no right to
Compare my choices to that of yourself
You can, but I don't care
Manipulate the choices I make
It does not matter

Independence I am seeking,
Is not the ignorance to everything in life
It's the space of hope and choice in life
It is the space for my own life
It is for my life itself
It is for the heart of a human
It is for the thrill in life that exists
It is to get over with the same old **** you get me into
It is to be open and radical
It is to not get into trouble
It is for your good and for mine

Don’t be dependent on me
I know you are
Take responsibility of your own life
A parasite, please don’t be
Don't try to make me one also
Be ignorant, don't be
On your choices in the first place
Make an effort to make a choice
An independent choice of your own
Choice that favors yourself

Get my life away from myself?
No, please don't!
Overprotective to me?
Please don't be
Its unconscious

Comes to pass my picture of the Middle East
(one minute and twenty one seconds of television news,
          much less than I had thought)
is an inaccurate representation of people
and the individuality of their experience.

How does one measure the merit of
I am offended?

If all I know are snapshots, misdirecting
the issue, changing path to digest murdered cartoonists
killed with Allah in mind
          (another misdirection)
and I am not outraged.

Sadness manifests as thick fog
blocking artificial light, splitting the rays,
opening up and flexing, the truth as is,
the sole truth we must attain;
          we are slow, dying creatures.
Inborn freedoms dissolve.

Did Salman Rushdie beg forgiveness for
images of his head book-ending a spear,
or did he die a little in secret?

Suppose I am a rouser marching the streets of
New York City, a gold pendant of two
          falling towers adorning
my chest-cave, Je Suis etched into my forehead
(black felt-tip).

Do you defend me?
Relish in your torment of words?

Will you bury the fire in your belly
for sake of freedom?

I love my maths...
And I do my poetry...
Inborn is the art...
Reborn is the goemetry...

When my lines are void of profection
I get to balance the equation
What a joy I get in providing solution
With my rhythm and its variations

My love for art is to infinity
Playing around with numbers is divinity
And when I get confused in the mapping
I resolve back to my writings.

Sally kisses Johnny on the lips.
Johnny feels her pressure on his hips.

Sally will not ever get it back.
Johnny cannot give her love he lacks.

Sally finds it inborn to be ******.
But Johnny sees it as contextual.

I'm tired of Love lost,
of cookie-cutter me missing you
and all of the ridiculous rhymes that ensue.
More and more I am fed up,
plainly sick of inflated ego's insulated by chosen ignorance
or inborn imbalances,
maybe a history of inbreeding
from a catalyst of parochial need.
You are a parody of mental health
shaping the shifting black and white
to propound cheap love, I feel this as a slight.
Committing any wisp of originality
to become an unconscious marketing ploy,
you're looking for glory in methods unlearned
now butchered, bleeding clichés
to stain pages and pages
with your sullen insecurities.
For that I name you an idiot,
a slavering jowls dripping greedy soul.
Comprehend there is no invalidation of your emotions,
just a damning of self neglect and hidden pride in suffering  
all laced with the unspoken demand for my respect.

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Why?
Why would you ever think that you could ever mean that much to me?
You stare at the ink-spattered glove moving across my face.
No, it isn't the smudged mascara of a thousand tears cried there.
Not the dried stain of a
Rainy. Dreary. Day.

So sorry to most pleasurably disappoint

And what have you there? Gleaming in your keeper's eye?

You dress it up and dangle it about my head like a cicada flittering on a string during hot Argentine, incense filled nights.

I burnt my finger once lighting the incense for nightly prayer.
That summer I blamed my isolation on what the burn had left: a large, sticky, unsightly welt.
The only trace of blind, naive, ignorantly whole-hearted belief.
My slightly, yet debilitating, wounded hand prevented my holding or shaking of any new body, or old body's hand.
But perhaps I only speak out of the need for a scapegoat?

Still, I hid the finger in tightly fastened bindings, as if to shut out just one more imperfection.
As if my inborn afflictions simply were not enough.
I could not stand one more earth inherited crack, nick, or stitch.

My empty, wounded, prideful hand wrapped around a cold, night sweat ridden glass.
The odor of vinegar, my makeshift poultice, rose to greet me.
To seat me. To allow the painful memories to slowly pick at and eat me.
Zealously. They make a feast of me.
Night after sarcastically lonely night.

But
Why?
Why would you ever think that you had ever meant that much to me?