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ryn Jan 2015
I have never intended to be found

existing in my sanctuary that freed me
unbound

shedding the mask of anonymity I've sought to maintain

am i still the king of my sanctuary, my realm, my domain...?
Karijinbba Jul 2018
Eventually I did put a face
to  your loving cues your emails
It had been so long since your destiny had asked you my King
to marry her
that hunting jealous day that began much earlier under a 1975 degree celcious and did burn us to a crisp
Nothing would have given me more assurance more pleasure  such a gracious challenge to a  mysterious
proposition to dig my heart
for the final blow
one queen for his other
prior queen bee me
Karijinbba
and a winner I would have been
all night with my King
under the mirror!
to obliterate her wedding band
from his hand
how loving of you cupid of mine
always digging at my heart
for my heart of gold
then came cause and effect of karma blowing up our plans
another King Brad appeared with roses and diamond ring
in hand he had no mask just an hidden agenda
he took my children to his Mom
to make his other queenjealous and I took the bate
for just one hour both my King and Brad
had chosen he same photo E-mailed among several
to both
the picture was the same summer dress I wore with the king I loved someone something from beyond
mirrored the scene in this life to cause and effect
it showed my lovea simple approach to
a woman's heart
and me that the woman he married giving her a diamond ring taking her and son to his Mom was more to make
me jealous and fight for his love
an invisible revolving door had opened both to win
both to lose
had bid the greatest game
of love
beware of Karma
to catch a true king FOCUS
don't take bates don't settle for new when the heart is taken  by a true love.
my king was found by his wife
and I returned Brads diamond
lesson played leasson learned
then came the clock ticking
tax collector King Mr Time
he took my hand
paper INK and pen
to script a new
poem its Winter he said
HOW DO YOU
WANT ME TO KISS YOU?
and a new revolving door
appeared.
How do you think a and how do we feel about the one we truly love a nail can't take another out its the heart that will break and the loss is an unsurmountable abyss beware open your eyes FOCUS one single thought two hearts that beat as one cannot distract nor settle and never take a new lover if our heart loves another
CK Baker Nov 2017
mirrored fly-glass
and polished chrome
are tinted
in the blood orange dawn
running dogs of lummi
hush quiet
on this celestial
summer morn

clubman bars
and tan saddles
strapped to
the lowered hind
skull caps
and fitted chaps
for the open flow
and rich peripheral scenes

concessions at the peace arch
(from the blue-coated fuzz)
black *****
and maples
cake the bow hill
and chuckanut

choppers launch
at edison
(with their metal fleck
and tuft)
a half moon rises
on the concho
and interstellar cross

cinnamon gulls
and ravens
scour the netted docks
warlock driftwood
and row homes
spot the winding
coastal roads

rumbling sounds
at the packer slew;
the redolence
of briny bay
alive
on the overlook
at fairhaven
Spent a couple days in late September on a motorcycle trip with my brother...weaving through the small towns and villages of the Pacific Northwest.  Magnificent!
His army perched above in trees,
Watching the front become a feast,
Who wins, care not, in the least?

"The cawing clan of Koronos..."

The thousands black they view the fight,
Staying late for supper -feeding at night...
Picking tender morsels in illumed moon-light,

"Swarthy minions of King Koronos!"

Corvid follow Man wherever he may go,
Feathery tomes of knowledge their treasure trove,
The messengers in the House of Jove...

"His static barbizon Aves; Koronos!"

There are many kings who come and go,
Becoming part and parcel in a wicked show,
But none of them will ever match the Crow...

"Engrosser of the dead; Koronos!"
Koronos is a king from the pseudo-historical Hercules accounts by Appollodorus and Pausanias. His name means, "Crow," in Greek. With the title this piece contains 96 words and two types of verse; rhyming verse and verse. Adding the metered count by line number you get 6, 7, 7, 8, and 20 or 48 times two types of verse; 96. So the metered count works two ways as the Greek and Hebrew mystics intended. The Greeks doublet'd coronae with the Celtic Kornus. The Greeks may be word-playing off Coronae saying that the King does anything and everything that is seen as good and bad?
Alyssa Underwood Dec 2015
wind forgets her moan
morn's dirge hushed still and silent
star heralds brilliance
"So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no guest room available for them.

"And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, 'Do not be afraid. I bring you good news that will cause great joy for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; He is the Messiah, the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.'

"Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,

'Glory to God in the highest heaven,
    and on earth peace to those on whom his favor rests.'"

~ Luke 2:4-14


"After Jesus was born in Bethlehem in Judea, during the time of King Herod, Magi from the east came to Jerusalem and asked, 'Where is the one who has been born king of the Jews? We saw his star when it rose and have come to worship Him.'

"When King Herod heard this he was disturbed, and all Jerusalem with him. When he had called together all the people’s chief priests and teachers of the law, he asked them where the Messiah was to be born. 'In Bethlehem in Judea,' they replied, 'for this is what the prophet has written:

“But you, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah,
    are by no means least among the rulers of Judah;
for out of you will come a ruler
    who will shepherd My people Israel.”'"

~ Matthew 2:1-6
Alyssa Underwood Jan 2016
Thou hast seen my grieving heart
And hast not turned my soul away
But invited me, “Come closer.”
Ever near Thy heart to stay

Thou hast drawn me with Thy goodness
And encircled me with grace
Yea, bestowed such loving-kindness
And revealed to me Thy face
Mark Lecuona Jan 2012
You were still alive
When I was a child
I knew of your torment
But this boy only smiled

Living in ignorances
I ignored your scars
We waved the flag
It was the stars and bars

While you marched
To remove your chains
We played rebel soldier
"The South shall rise again!"

Someone called you a ...
And yes... I laughed
It all seemed so funny
This boy gave you the shaft

Later I would discover
My parents rejected this thought
They called Dad a "... lover"
I said "No! He's not!"

How sad as I ran
Humiliated to find
Those who looked like me
Hated my parents' mind

I wanted to be good
I wanted to be proud
Instead I was afraid
I couldn't say it out loud

While I lived in shame
A silent scared racist
You answered your calling
And began to resist

Why did it take so long
So long for me to see
The things that you fought
Happened right in front of me

Labeled 3/5 of a man
Not worthy of a drink
Only to be made fun of
I didn't know what to think

I'm sorry Dr. King
It's all I can say now
I know who is worthy
It is to you that I now bow

With dogs, hoses and a bull
That's how they committed sin
But you turned the other cheek
When they rejected you at the inn

You walked with those
Who were proud and fearless
While you asked to be human
In fact you were peerless

Was Jesus' journey less difficult?
Rejected from birth
Bringing us together
With love from this earth

More than a man
But as weak as any other
You gave your life
To save your own brother

Yes I am sorry Dr. King
For being so weak
For not standing up
For being afraid to speak

But today
I can only hope
That you understand
While I continue to *****

Oh how I wish
My weakness never sprouted
That my goodness
Would never be doubted

But to sit by your side
And look you in the eye
And beg for your dream
As you ask me why

Why does a white man
Ask a ***** for a dream?
Why does a white man
Ask a ***** for self-esteem?

Why do I ask?
Because I have done nothing
I've lived a life of frivolity
While you died for something

I have squandered all I was given
Expecting it as my right
While you planted what was taken
And brought the ***** to life

In an immoral world
Of material possession
You earned moral superiority
And gained entrance to heaven

Who do I answer to?
What penance can I pay?
I am sorry Dr. King
Will you let me stay?

Will you show me now
My shortcomings as a man?
Is it any wonder
That I kiss your hand?

Yes I am sorry Dr. King
As sorry as a child can be
I can make no promises
Except pray for people to be free

I'm sorry Dr. King
But I'm also proud
That I came to know you
To remove the shroud

Of bigotry and racism
From my small mind
If we meet one day
I hope this you will find
A confessional....
JV Beaupre May 2016
"So why are you painting a woman in a bottle?"
It's a learning painting. I want to see if I can handle all those layers of transparency and quirky reflections.

"But she has a set of phantom arms and legs, what about that?"
Yes, pretty cool. A Vitruvian woman in a bottle.

"I'm looking for Meaning: Don't paintings symbolize things?"
You mean, what does it mean, really mean? I had an idea, but it really wasn't very deep.

"But what are you saying with that?"
It's not feminist nor anti, it's just an exercise.

"But aren't you, as an artist, exposing reality and interpreting, presenting emotions and feelings, seeing the soul?"
I'm not on a soapbox-- I'm testing my skill-- I paint and don't think about it too much. After all, 'Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar' or is it 'just a smoke'?

"I don't like your message."*
OK, I'll paint you in a bottle...
As a shrunken head.
On the other hand, I once painted an agricultural scene based on a photo from the 1930s that I thought carried a social message. Most people wanted to know what kind of tractor it was.
Karijinbba Jul 2018
Let not your heart
be troubled
ye believe in God
King Arthur Lancelott
PC RC JP T
believe also in me.
In my father's house are
many mansions
if it were not so
I would have told you.
I go to prepare a place for you.
And if I go and prepare a place for you I will come again
and receive you unto myself
that where I am
there you
will be also.

John,14-3.

Karijinbb/RCPc/bba
When our loved ones leave us behind in the hands of The Lord as they can't be here to watch us and love us
in person, but ONLY IN SPIRIT if they promise to .
I gave into a subtle beating,
Wrought once by Eros’ tasked -entreating,
The winds confound I lost my heart and…
…she of black-haired, eyes, dark beauty;
warm-rosined cheeks of nature gladdened.
For Pallas' claim, -said we both were saddened.
And me a farmer, she a princess,
I of yoked-labor, while her suitors, -the best.
Doth Father-King did mantic challenge, that challenge being sought in no jest.

Accosted me the low-ly suitor,
He gave of me a challenge -the worst. He sent me to the serpent’s folly.
With dagger and heart, whirlwind passion, sought I did the guiles’ jolly.
Up the cragged wind-swept mountain, past laurel berries, trees of holly,
Into white polished marble temple to the folly of a lair-born beast.
Gave my most but just a farmer, heart of swelling beat untempered.
As he set out, devour meal thus conquered, came she the dark-haired raven beauty, with shrieks and wails doth shocked the serpent, he surprised I plunged my dagger. Serpent dead she held her finger to my lips and then did whisper;

“We of Pallas judgment true did, find our love rise from ash-field –lister.
Tell of this you will to no one, you the boy who captures fair-heart,
To father you shall be a hero, deception we of female -impart,
Cleverness you must now fashion, must fashion your will to a high art,
Something of a nature now you must know,
Like the serpent-challenge dealt your passion a blow,
Apples will not save you once and,
Once as King and you my hus-band,
We the two of Pallas’ favor, love forever shall we savor,
I the half of you shall sing, you the half shall make me King,
We together, rule forever, we of two sides brawn and clever,
No serpent ever come between us, now that we a love -Athena’s!
Go now and this be our se-cret, marry me and never re-gret, all is yours and I your egret!”

Of this I did sit and ponder, on that hill of temple, off at yonder,
Me of fields, dirt-laden squire, she at court make of me a liar,
Is her beauty, hand a console -to the surety and loss of my soul?
Run I did to the city my way, storm gates to the court and did say;

“These, the teeth of folly’s serpent and she will be my wife on this day!”

Aged now and sit here, grumble...

Kingdom of deceit into which I crumble;
Woe to me how didst I tumble?

In rush to love perhaps did stumble?
In later years now here I humble;

...love was not worth all the trouble.
Old English-style rhyming verse. The classic mythology of the man entranced-by or enslaved by the serpent and rescued by cunning, trickery or deceit on the part of the female. This tale is as old as written history.
Shofi Ahmed Oct 2018
It’s on everyone's eyeline
where the flying clouds
look down time and again
on this perfectly placed mural.

King Solomon keeps an ear on the ground
the Queen of Sheba tiptoes on this way.
Only to find seas of silent blooms already
musing dipping in sun-kissed dews
on gently tilted roses that won’t drip down
not from this a picture perfect navel-high!

Velvety rose up from the ground
forever green earth is hanging low
in the dew on the rose that won’t fall.
Blossoming, eying on an acute high
evermore hopeful to scale high aspiring
to the faraway awaiting houris’ pool.
They will move neither to the north
nor south nor they go up or down until
Queen Fathima the Queen of Heaven
shows up there on the ‘as above so below’ *****.

There too the newly resurrected earth be primed
to loop into the Golden section at the same height.
Laying the stepping stone on before her
mosaiced to measure on the phi adhered navel-high!
Houri: The Beautiful native woman of paradise.
The Math Behind the Beauty argues that "Leonardo da Vinci's drawings of the human body emphasised its proportion. The ratio of the following distances is the Golden Ratio: (foot to navel) : (navel to head)".
Copycat, collect the nectar,
it will optimize your splendor.
Grasping it by the gallons,
drinking poison, immune, callous,
to the pain you aligned, and profusely measured.

Fixated on this peeling label,
bend it back, are you able,
To contain symptoms as they surface?
Written down as toxic in cursive,
a sign of recovery crowned as 'fatal'

Copycat, take your weapons,
along the speckled crimson as logical 'sessions'.
Brim the shell, or remain hollow?
Graphic truth is hard to swallow,
unseen pain is being reflected-
All feedback is welcome and appreciated!
I wanted to do some form of rhyming, but the emotion had to stay so I know the poem is a little odd.
thejohnags Aug 2018
you're no trouble, no goner,
you're just playing the wrong beat.
you're no elephant in the room,
you're just dancing the wrong move.  

they got your photo for display
they must've mistaken your face.
if you think you're dead today,
it's just the start of the race.  

so get up, get up, get up
no broken bones must stop you now.
heads up, heads up, heads up
it's time to press play again.  

go and wear your crown,
go and see the crowd,
let them know that you're around,
make them kneel to the ground,
you're the king of this town.

do they know the pearly whites hide underneath the yellow stains?
do they know that every villain is the star of his own **** play? 
do they even realize you fought your battles for them?
even realize they just sit when you stand up for them?
but they get the glory,
not even feeling sorry.  

it's funny how your story is getting out of control.
you think that you are winning, but then you lost your throne.
you congratulate them on your big, fake smile,
and then you comfort yourself when you sleep at night.

'*** for a second you thought you have everything:
got a pocket full of money, got the man of your dreams,
got a blanket for a cold, hard night, got the stars,
got the job that you want, got a seat in the park  

but then everything's gone when you wake up the next day
you're looking for a bed, but you have slept on the floor, hey,  
where are your clothes? why does your face wear blue?
there ain't no writings on the wall, but if there's one, it came true.  

there's a special place for the non-believers
i didn't say in ****, but you get the picture.
how are you gonna pull yourself together when the world pushes you down all the time?
what a waste Sep 2016
I'm King of the *****
Dragging my jaws of life claws
all the way to the vault doors
like where's my barnacle crown at

Now is that anyway to treat your Lord
I'll rat-a-tat-tat across every carnivore
like that bloated comet did the dinosaurs
Only a coward feasts on a corpse
that's why my food stays with its pulse
gleck Feb 2016
''
Sand and stones between my bones.
Today the sun never shone.
Look how beautiful I am.

Chop, chop, chopped wood in the fireplace.
Don't get too close if you want to keep your face.
Be careful not to burn yourself.

It gives a certain warmth
And brings a certain want.
I would, yet I can't enjoy it by myself.

Royal blue like the winter hue.
My skin is merely bruised.
Can you still see how many times I've been hurt?

That winter depression.
Makes me want you as my new obsession.
Come in even if it's colder than outside.

Melt, melt me, I'm a letdown.
Having a meltdown.
I am melting under your fiery touch.

Snow flakes the skin.
I am in for a win.
What a special snowflake I am, wouldn't you say?

My heart is surrounded by splinters,
It shouldn't, yet it get's me through the winter.
Between my arms it's chiller, why don't you come hither?

Take a bite of me with your ice chipped teeth.
Swallow me up like a leech.
Red blood gauges from my blue veins.

Guess I'm not that royal anyway.
Hide it before you can complain.
-
Too late.
You already know the taste.
"
Xan Abyss Apr 2018
I am the Great Connector
I was born to unite The Horde
I am the Great Collector
Of souls felled by my Axensword
They all call me subhuman
And revile me as a beast
But they do the same to you and
For that they'll pay the price
(No Peace)

We are strong, We are brave
Though they wish to see us caged
We are wild and Untamed
And we will never live as slaves

Conquerors, We Are One!
Same blood in different skins
At last you'll see, when the victor is me
I am the Lord of our Kin
Wastelanders, Join the March
The World will burn as we sing
When the battle is won, I'll announce to everyone
"I am the Ogre King!"

I am the Great Divider
I was born to brew up storms
I am the Annihilator
My path was forged in war
My reign began in chaos
In Bloodshed, so it ends
All this Strife has nearly left me with
No Kingdom to Defend
(Descent)

We are Violent and Enraged
Now that we have been Betrayed
There are Consequences Grave
For Manipulated Faith

Revolution, it has come!
Same blood but different sins
The Empire Falls
And all Hear the Call
For A New Order to Begin
Decapitate the Tyrants
& Slaughter those who Resist
When the battle is won,
At the top of my lungs, I'll cry
"Long Live the Ogre King!"

I am the Great Destroyer
The Throne is mine to take
I will be king at any cost
Dead nations in my wake
I am the Great Conniver
With Sinister Designs
Never cared how much is Lost
So long as what is Left is Mine
(Arise)

We are rabid and insane
From lives of misery and pain
Now that the world's ablaze
We fall into our cages

These Horrors have just begun
Same gore from separate veins
What have we done,
To our daughters and sons?
A History Bloodstained!
We threw our lives into this war,
And lost more than we gave
When the killing is done,
I'll tell everyone,
"The Ogre King is slain!"

Now Our Planet is a Grave!

"The Ogre King is Slain,
Long Live the Ogre King,
I Am
The Ogre King!"
Lately I've been inspired by the goings-on in my tumultuous homeland to start writing Epic Fantasy lyrics that double as political protest songs.
embrace it
become
insane

Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders
Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders
Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders


The world
will
survive

Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders
Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders
Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders


Evolutionary
you
see

yes
no yes
yes no yes

Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders
Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders
Save the Earth, **** the Cheerleaders


Kissy'n Girl
-IBᵢd
no?


<>


The solution to overpopulation is here; abandon morality.
Save the Earth by letting loose humanity,
if it feels good?
if it makes money?
if it makes banks money,
wall street
share
hold
it
then.
Gracie Knoll Apr 2016
I run in the wake of my High King
Swept along by the waves of his grace
Each step is a bound
As I climb up the mountain on the road that leads to his place

I bask in the glory of my Lord
Weighed down by the weight of his love
Each breath is a milestone as I fly on the clouds to the city of his up above

I rest in the peace of my Father
Lulled by the song of his calm
Each verse is a kiss from his beautiful lips as he carries me home in his arms
Ilion gray Dec 2018
There is something to be said about sadness-
there are levels-
Remember,
these two words:

"Divine - Sorrow"

when I first met the Almighty,
I had already been a child for years;
I survived,
then I fell asleep.

I never woke up again.

I can see that you are confused..

If so,
May I suggest that you,
listen from the room
behind your eyes.
The one with no door,
Lay down,
With your back,
and head
on the bed;
But, leave your feet
on the floor.

There, on the ceiling in your head,
Painted from corner to corner
is a very cold small planetary garden,

Go there, and wait for me.

if you are reading these words,
I am already in the stomach of death;
Only the soul of my breath is here still,
Awaiting digestion.

Although,
I know a physician specializing
In didacticism,
I would suggest
that you not call him;
until morning.

When I have left the body.

However, tonight sleep in a fetal position.

Because I love you.
Because, you are very much meant to love and be loved.

something for the weaknesses
Is perfection.

the doctors,
have reasonable logical analysis,
maybe some other theories, about my condition.
They will tell you -
that i have mental disorders -
That my past drug addictions
made it easier for my sickness
to manifest-
It's_self

They will tell you, "like anyone else ...
Your father is dying he needs help;"
And I know you'll be laughing inside
and I'll be smiling
Halfheartedly,
walking through
woods behind my eyes,
Conversing with
trees and wind,
Sitting with the golden orb-weaver,
he tells me the names of the
Stars; I never ask him for his source,
For he weaves replicas of
The universe, while the world sleeps,
Then, as I walk a little further,
four-spotted palpitas
Flicker in the light of the
Many moons
of my minds-sky,
Every one of them,
The trees,
The wind,
The spider,
The moth,
All the moons...

Everyone of them speak to me with the voice of my father.

I am here most of days
Emptying my eyes,
Pouring myself out
Over the long bent grass
Of his words..

then,

Here I am again,
In the doctor's office lobby,


It's cold,...
                 I put my hands in the
                        bottom;    
front pockets
of my jacket.
And, there in the pocket
I find a empty pill bottle,
(written in the fine print on the prescription label)

A little side note they send my soul,
regarding death;
before calling my name
in the waiting room,
It said,

" if you want to stay awake
Flush one pill down the toilet
A day"

Yes....there is work
yet to be done, and
I am not just the skin,
wrapped in thick blood,
running down
The throat
Of dry..dry veins
that
gurgle me down
impatiently,
Into, the stomach of death.

Where...
The lobby,
smells like blended
plastic machines burning,
And
tired lives;
expiring slowly.

I sit here,
waiting to be called,
The minutes are empty
from 1 to 60

There is nothing there...

Staring at dusty picture frames dangling from clinging nails,
Barely holding their place
On the wall
But they are only dusty, 
 plastic and glass...
and nothing else in here
Is where it used to be,
nothing is where I put it;
Unless I hid it from myself...
There is no-thing here,
I have lost my moons...
My elements
incomplete in unrest.
You and You.
Are a
thousand million
light years
Away,
I miss your gravitational waves and the wind that was yours when
You danced like a dervish
Across the edge of the walls of
Stratos,
I was slipping in and out of space
And again 0001 00 100 00...

When you left...
Why did you take all of your
Photographs?
I miss
peering into your worlds;
I long for you both...
Savagely, in whispering rain,
In blood,
with veins of wild fires.
Izzy Aug 2017
My King,
At sixteen we have the world at our feet.
We're building our future with unsteady hands.
One day we might run, leaving this little town in the dust.
Hand in hand. Crowns atop our heads.
The two of us against the world, off to build our own castle.
Battles raging around and between us, but we will win them.

One day we will walk through the doors of our castle, our kingdom, our home.

One day our story will be told.
They will tell it.
We will tell it.

To the little princess or prince that fills our castle with the pattering of little feet, beyond contagious laughter, and more mess than we'll feel we can handle.
It will be wonderful, an adventure we face together.
A journey through life, all our own
                                                             ­     Love, your Queen.
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