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Chapter XXI
Hegira to Patmos

They dropped their moorings from Cala Cogone early, when the tide seemed to be separated from the waters like a head distanced from its body. On a lavish and romantic day they went to Genoa, to continue the logistics of the trip to Piacenza. During the trip Etréstles was stretched out in the bow under a Sun that seemed to be fearsome as it was a digestive task that would make him ingest his own dream, which perhaps he aspired to be more than a journey. While he slept, at the helm Etréstles dressed in a black robe and the comrades also sleeping with dreams that they painted with sign gestures on their faces.

Dream of Etréstles: "With the memory off-center ..., I was still in Izzana, dancing by the clouds on gray tulles of the layers of the sky that tried to stop being a Kingdom without a Crown and Sword". They glimpsed the stones melting and turning into gauze juxtaposed to the aerosolites that unfolded from the Sorcery, landing on the hands and heads of Vernarth and Himself. As he continued his dreamy journey, he dialogued with the auxiliary legate of his own dream. “He tells her that he sees them beyond where their liturgies collide. They cross eroding the vanished and itinerant reason”. He gets up and takes the moorings of the ship and ties them to his neck. Then everyone cooperates to walk along the edge of the ship, which all moved barefoot. This is how I would wake up!

Vernarth tries to wake him up, shakes him, but doesn't wake up. And when he tried to avoid him from sleep, he saw that he had the moorings around his neck, along with two Unicorns who were escorting him and were looking towards infinity, auspicious that Genoa was already coming in front of their horns. The others began to wake up and ate reclining, almost as if without any desire to get up from the deck full of self-sliding linen, which allowed everyone to pass their own meals, including those that were semi-consumed rolling on the deck. Etréstles,  transferred the dream to Vernarth, once he went to his bedroom to rest before they touched the roadstead at the foot of the homonymous promontory, 36 km from Genoa.  Portofino, close to the hydro form of the Portofino Regional Natural Park.  Being able to find different entrance doors through S. Rocco, Portofino Vetta and Nozaregoino  that led you to paths with different levels of accessibility and landscape. On the route of the path that traveled from Northwest to Southwest on the same promontory, he received the full beauty of the Mediterranean vegetation, with its beautiful pines, bluish and clean waters of the Mediterranean, which filled his lungs and especially his stem, which silenced of peace to those who accompany you through this interesting and beautiful Natural Park with deep blue eyes.
Vernarth is wrapped with two layers of linen and stands in between eclipsing each of the Unicorns. They pass her horn through her pectoral, as if wanting to insinuate affection. But her propitiated gesture was to crown her with the Power of her phalanx, the impetus in Gaugamela, an Onyx Crown, to lighten the burden of sleep and wake up before reaching the shores of Genoa.
Calling in Genoa, they all descend in a separate part and say goodbye from afar, gesturing with their hands. Their ramblings revealed multi-level radiographs of the resolved aura that invited them to an enclave hostel, to re-enter the world of their daily chores. The Unicorns who would return back to Sardinia stayed on the ship that was in the blue bay. They positioned themselves at the bow one and at the stern the other, to lighten the sails and return to Izzana.

Vernarth and Etréstles walked with their bags, letting go of their feet towards La Via ** Settembre, they travel in an east-west direction, next to Corso Italia, the promenade that runs along the promenade, which is one of the favorite places to reform the destination of Piacenza. From this road they moved near the adjacent carriage station to the Caruggio neighborhood in Sottoripa. Here they entered an inn to eat and drink liqueurs made from natural herbal recipes and sweet citrus, some fish with bread, sauce and Genovés sourdough. to satisfy their hunger.
They had dinner and opened the exit to the terminal. Before, they went to the Ponte Monumentale where the church dedicated to Santa Rita is, called Iglesia de la Consolación, whose entrance, at the level of the old streets, is slightly lower than the current street. They pass a porch and enter. "Almost like a grand cloister sensation they perceived during their stay, as if centuries had passed, but which never ended in the wanderings of any secular period. It was the impression once entered and soaked on this road, which still remains active. From this original cloister, the invocation of images on the sides placed towards the church towards Via ** Settembre, as well as the closed portal in the market access plaza on Via Galata, recur, while the other two sides are they completed attractions to admire when the eastern market in Genoa appeared before them ”.

When they entered, the masks were passed over the bones of their faces, indulgent towards both faces of the visitors, under a freshness of gravitational atmospheric fragrance, perhaps from the connected baptismal font or the lateral nave or the three naves separated by square pillars illuminating them. This is where Vernarth places his right hand on his forehead and his mouth, as a sign of catechesis detached from The Vault, the central nave and the counter-facade that were painted in fresco in 1874 by Giuseppe Isola, after reading about the intertextual verifying thus Vernarth. (Visioni dell'Apocalisse, Gloria di Nostra Signora della Consolazione and Giuditta rientra trionfante in Betulia), while Etréstles frenziedly admitted the frescoes through the side aisles that are the work of Giovanni Quinzio at an angle close to him. Observing everything, he was already indoctrinating to reprint new vigor to enter Piacenza triumphantly and head to the Region of Patmos. Giuseppe Isola's fresco was the great motive that struck his reason for being where he was to continue the threads upon threads of his lineage as the great Commander of the troops of Gaugamela and his Phalanges. Here is the church in its first tune with the duty of limitlessness before its steps to dominions that will make it recover their powers, from where they were first seen dressing in the clothes of an innocent child.


In the apse, there was the choir singing baroque pieces, and followed by elaborate wooden stalls from the 17th century. In the Altars on the left, on the Fifth Altar, Etréstles, captures a simultaneous vision. From that moment when it was the disappearance of this Santa Maria della Pace church, which could have been one structure on top of the other, perhaps in ruins but if the columns could go further from where their originals are born. Until then both had separated from each other, and they would meet again here in the apse, where they never lose sight of each other again, to turn towards the exit that required them to leave the sacred precinct. In the terminal, a grayish float awaited them, with silver trim on the edges of the structure, at the top of the front roof it said "Where you must never go and be". It was just the transport of an allegorical float. They were theatrical traveling artists, who had places available for travelers to Piacenza. The one that they just approached to move to the home, where they had to register at their own will and rejoin this excellent session "Parapsychological Regression".The Trebbia valley, a few kilometers from Piacenza. Vernarth noted that a shaft of the chariot made a strange sound. To which he notified the driver, telling him what he caught on the rear axle of the carriage. They go down to inspect all; not being able to detect anything that it would suppose would be an anomaly of filming of the instrumental east. Etréstles sees that some steeds were grazing on some meadows and he tells them all. Vernarth warns him and immediately heads to them. It reaches only a sorrel that was running its tongue over its hoof. The others flee. Vernarth approaches, and notices that he had a wound in his left hoof, noticing that in the center there was a strip of Green color, He takes his leg, and examines it. He takes out his dagger and begins to remove the stake that was inserted into his damaged leg. The others were gone, restarting the trip to Piacenza. Etréstles managed to climb a steed, and followed him - The float remained without them supposedly to arrive safely at Piacenza. But at 5 km, before reaching the city they are struck by a lightning bolt from a sudden storm. What misdirects his route - the passengers were left intact, only fatally suffered the loss of the driver. (It was verified by Vernarth when he arrived at his home in Piacenza).   As  Vernarth rode fast in the storm, trying to catch up with the carriage. Stress them towards the same to reach their brother. They rode propagating the pastures that passed near the forests of Val Trebbia. When the storm intensified instantly, it was wise to take refuge and wait for the flood to decrease. They were always close to each other. Etréstles about 18 km from Vernarth, they did not know it, but the horses sensed each other. They already distinguished, that they were close to each other, but it was necessary to take care of the horse, and have to check its hoof again. He checks it and notices that it had a green stripe in the four parts, like a pigment already placed concentrically in the middle of each hoof.


Ellipses Gaugamela - Final War
Vernarth bids farewells farewell. Once the Achaemenides are surrendered, he prepares to review them. Walk with Alikanto across the ****** plain. Reviewing his five hundred dead and three thousand wounded, he goes to recirculate in the footsteps of the attack, manages to see lead as a sentinel gathered wounded horses, but not serious. He approaches him and says Khaire; asking what unit they came from. He tells them of the Hosts of the command of Hefestion. The sentinel tells him, that he was enraptured by the fact before his eyes to see that all the horses of the line of Hefestion, Alexander the Great and Vernarth, to fascinate him that they had a green stripe on his left hoof. Wedge riders are formed, lining up the stable, towards the court of the guards and Macedonian monarchs. She dismounts from Alikanto and checks the chestnut trees, managing to insinuate that it could be Medea's ploy of the smiling charm towards her Hetairoi dancers, whose elite had bracelets on each leg on each chestnut. Also with the offensive weapon, they acted as the Macedonian's personal guard. Vernarth recalled that, before starting the offensive, with his blessed Xifos he inflicted light wounds on the left foot of his Phalanges in the act of "overtaking them before being stained by the enemy"

Vernarth says: Here is the cavalry that has received so much praise for «hammer» in the strategies, because it crushed the enemy units retained by the «anvil» or the «phalanx» that I had to command and lead the charge, intoning the riders. And even more the circumcisions that he gave them before entering combat. With the Hetairoi I was organizing squadrons of 200 to 300 soldiers, while they were checking the chestnut trees. In the campaign, they would ride the best horses, ******* or on the blanket, they were awarded the best weapons available. Each carried his long throwing spear Xyston, accompanied by a Kopis sword, for hand-to-hand combat, which in the interlude would defend his flax and bronze breastplate, with respective protective armbands and helmet, before lightly tackling his aggression . The horses were also partially protected, but not their hooves! I gave them the final instruction by decree to take them to the altarpieces and attend to them, so that they check their left hoof.Thus giving signs of great concern about the green stripe on each of its left hooves. Sentinel Hetairoi, with some of his servants, gather the animals and transport them where they have been ordered to tend and examine them. As the designs collapse over the night in gloomy litanies, Medea bursts into a great green outfit saying:

Medea: Vernarth, rancid are on my memory the potions and designs of those who want to talk about me or offer me in their lust.Where the zeal of anxiety deceives the wishful arms that welcome the victorious pleasure. Hooves are my skeptics and famous decisions, because I am weak in will but not in character. Green is the pouring of my converted powers into the veins of the horses. They were carriers in their eloquent ferocity. Instead of blood, I had sap from the magic vessels that I transferred to them so as not to doubt the doubts. Their object is that a green band was encased in their hooves as a sign of the Hipnos promontory through their Son Clovis, to plunge all the forests of the raging underworld, towards the heart of each "Valiant Hetairoi".


Outside ellipsis / near Piacenza
Vernarth and Etréstles in a post-storm clearing, a soft breeze greets them and they meet again, they greet Khaire! And together they reroute to the empty pastures, which would gradually begin to venture them through the farthest forests of the Val Trebbia. On some brown plains with poor colors that visited him falling as they faded on his mirage. From this unusual crossroads they will supremely perceive the closeness of Piacenza in their breathing.
Now they are in the vicinity of the Cimitero de Piaceza. Then they will have to go home on the Via Giovanni Codagnello, on the calendar of January 2020. The Parapsychological Regression continues.


Piacenza Cemetery, January 20, 2020
Vernarth and Etréstles entered the necropolis long before sunset. They were carrying a cake to celebrate Vernarth's birthday. Night Patrol joined the visit. In particular, they followed a night watch service that was active, trusting their guide Piacenza or the surrounding area, with 3 internal night patrol passages 365 days a year, for the rest of lives beyond all material life, perhaps turned into marble statues.
They hired a special service dedicated to the approved service for 2 people .; They were active during the caretaker's office opening hours (the same opening hours as the cemetery). With this service they overcame difficulties to walk after so much traveling. They leave the green-hoofed horses, now turned into statues. They request authorization from the entrance cemetery offices, to honor their belonging and to please those who visit them on their behalf. In Genoa, after having passed through the exterior without entering, they were ecstatic with the Staglieno Cemetery in Genoa (the most monumental in Italy).But if they enter the Piacenza, where the sanitary monumentality passed through the real function of such an enclosure in the contingency. It was commented by the neighboring offices that the migration of corpses from Bergamos were moved to Modena, Acqui Terme, Domodossola, Parma, Piacenza to carry out the respective ceremonies. Due to the great Viral Pandemic that decimated a great majority of Italian citizens in these areas. Vernarth became aware of the current reality, saw how a gravedigger conversed with the crowds, there was a nurse, a doctor and a prodigal man who concentrated on uploading moods to those who were there, almost like a caster, to relieve them of this transitory despite humanity.
They continue past the pyramidal pines, to the central pavilion. They sit on the edge of some flagstones, and take the cake to celebrate their birthday. They sing a hymn and they both enjoy it lovingly. Etréstles saw that he had a little cream left on his nose and cheekbone, running his hand to remove it. In the instant, the guard calls them; it was time to go because it was time to close the compound. They say goodbye with a monumental hug paying tribute to their brother!


Etréstles says: Honors Vernarth, for your immeasurable Valor! It is a great contribution that we divide our work and commitments. From here I go to the Messolonghi Cemetery. I will only wait for the crescent moon to meet the Charioteer, then leave with him and my beloved Drestnia. My Xifos Sword in my right hand and the head that I cut off in my left hand, in Gaugamela before that rugged fate! Khaire, My honors Commander Etréstles!. It remains in the shadow of some pyramidal pine trees of this sublime night, and then they distance themselves. Vernarth leaves the compound heading towards his house relatively close to the cemetery, on the Via Giovanni Codagnello.


Final session in Vía Codagnello, Piacenza:
Vernarth enters opens the door and everyone is waiting for him. Huge groups of friends, work colleagues, family, their pets, and especially the Parapsychologist, who had commanded this whole great session. They all approach her and in the instant, Vernarth awakes abruptly from the parapsychological session. They stabilize it and check your vital signs. There were many days of this odyssey. His awakening was mediatic, since they were attentive to him to question him and confess everything, but he was clear that his purpose would lead him to the confines of Patmos along with Raeder and Petrobus. It remained only to wait for the tenuity of a simple immortal warrior to assist in the services of John the Evangelist. The parapsychologist says you have to wake up, you can no longer be AND stay here in this temporary tube!
Once he has refused to wake up, he takes the itinerary to return to Macedonia. The visibly worn and stunned parapsychologist demands that he give up and obey his command. The effort was unproductive, only letting himself be carried by the grip of his right hand, taking his other with great vigor to remove it from shamelessness, from whom he does not suppress his pride to who still remains wounded by the swords that bleed his soul in Gaugamela. "Everyone is amazed and resigned !, pointing out that he must have always been in the surroundings of his beloved Macedonia, cutting the bursts of succulent insolence on the same temperate cliffs, where some variation of the sounds of the wind would make him saddle his Alikanto to acclaim the gods who came looking for him ”

Vernarth is engulfed in ambivalence, almost celebrating his birthday and waking up from his parapsychological journey. Both will take place, but the session will continue irrevocably. After a few days close to the first day of the crescent moon, he greeted him from a privileged place on his house Etréstles de Kalavrita who was with the Charioteer in his car and Drestnia, they went in that masterful car to join the chores of the Koumetrium Messolonghi (Editorial Palibrio - USA) .So returning to Messolonghi, to meet his disciples and essences of the foundation of his naturalness.


Hegira to Patmos
On a gray day in July 1820. Piacenza slept under the ambush of the revolution, in Italy there was a situation similar to that of another European nation. Vernarth was preparing his last details with the parapsychologist, to undertake his Hegira to Patmos, since he was a revolutionary and this was of great motivation to emigrate from this constant stage of Wars and sociopolitical processes. Manage to be a participant in this revolt in the Piedmont area. Its ideological axes were liberalism and nationalism. Given that the most affected countries were those of southern Europe (episodes from other areas, such as Germany or France, were much less important), with Spain as epicenter of a movement that extended to Italy and Portugal, and on the other hand Greece; It has been called the Mediterranean cycle as opposed to the Atlantic cycle that had preceded it in the previous generation (the first liberal revolutions or bourgeois revolutions, produced on both sides of the ocean: the Independence of the United States -1776- and the French Revolution -1789- ). As compromised great principalities of much of Europe were banned, it participates in great dissolution of collisions and invasions that involved it. In this way he would liberate his Homeland, especially his province of Piacenza.

Although the "Kingdom of Italy" as such did not exist, there were two great kingdoms that participated in the Revolutions of 1820: the Kingdom of Naples and the Kingdom of Piedmont. However, most of the revolutionary movements were driven by secret societies, such as coal. The Kingdom of Piedmont was also one of the most affected, since it was at the epicenter of Italian nationalism. It was controlled by Víctor Manuel I, member of the House of Savoy and defender of the Old Regime. The monarch had only been on the throne for 6 years, since he returned to Turin in 1814 due to the defeat of Napoleon. Since his return, various factions within the country advocated for a unification of all the Italian kingdoms. The unstable situation of its neighbor, the Kingdom of Naples, caused the carbonarians within Piedmont to revolt in March 1821.

Conclusive Hegira ellipsis to Patmos:
After this great conflict, he orders his parapsychologist to resume his final session in Patmos; he begins the procedure for the era that he had to trespass anachronistically, returning to the era of the Macedonian Empire. The parapsychologist asks him time, place, dates, clothing, customs, and manages to meet his request. He enters the portal, and in the backwaters of Messolonghi he meets Raeder and Petrobus. They were close to this heroic land, Messolonghi in the Gulf of Patras, the capital of Aetolia-Acarnania. Nothing less than in the land of his Brother Etréstles "Koumeterium Messolonghi".


"They all approach the vicinity, pray three times to heaven, and manage to be abducted to the underworld of Messolonghi. When they were snooping through the catacombs, they make out the surroundings of a luminous vault, thus distinguishing a woman passing by with others. It was the beautiful nymph Eurydice inaugurating The Constitution of a new Government”.
Eurydice and the gravediggers worked for the new government to be instituted. They were reviewing the last ground plans that converged on the tenth cemetery.
Eurydice ...: with the absence of Etréstles and Drestnia we will make her awakening continue, whose awakening phase closely relates to her wife.
Grave ...: Where do we start?
Eurydice ...: by the southwestern statue of Ashurbanipal, to pay tribute to Botsaris. Then, we will go up to receive the cordoned off tomb of Bramante and Ghiberti, so that the latter can advise us regarding the work to be erected.
They climb the northeast pavilion to the foundations of a mausoleum. They approach the slab of Ghiberti, who was loosening his fingers, sitting on the shore of a Pyramid-shaped cypress. Bramante vanished into the gray beams of light...

Ghiberti ...: I already know your mission. I am summoned to the Council on the day of the sailors' return. To start, they went to the mines to look for precious stones, stones to build Markos Botsaris.
Eurydice ...: Good! Well, in nine moons and nine suns they will return from the coasts of Morocco, the last docking point, so that they can then return. At the moment they are already warned.
Just back, there was a Lover with her right hand holding her chin.

Inamorada In Love ...: Five centuries ago I awaited my awakening, my lover promised to return ... with these verses...:
"I want to be different,
I want to take you my love...
and tell you that by missing you
there is no greater sadness than not seeing you ...
Forgive me for not coming back...
before my absence caused your death,
Wait for me ... I'm going to tell you ... how I miss you
Along with my immortality of feeling...!  How I miss you...!!

... He still tells me this, but from here, under the embankment of the cemetery I feel that he is far away and I can do nothing. Also, I have it in my memory and one day we will meet here. The Enamorada continues to sit and watch armies of soldiers being thrown into graves, their bodies severed. As she continues; ... there is more life here than on the surface, and the trenches replace the concave wombs, as vessels! As everything here lives, even the flowing and hallucinatory invocations are perceived from the Poets, Alchemists and Astronomers. They make the invisible go in a formidable adventure to the site of their magical hallucinations.
Eurydice ...: Stay on your stone, with your chiffon dress; here you will see the arrival of Etréstles. He will bring news from other lands to answer you. Now dispense if we delay, sadness will fall on the other beings who are being buried and transhumated. The Enamorada remained on the stone with her knees resting on her chest. Eurydice and her assistants went to their rooms. "
All this they manage to witness, and then go in search of Etréstles on the same tenth cemetery floor. Raeder and Petrobus were laughing and at the same time they were impressed, as if wanting to remember him when they have to leave directly from Messolonghi to Patmos, towards the Dodecanese region. In the meantime Vernarth was searching for his brother in all the nearby areas of the catacombs flashing penetrating light, unable to find him. He arrives at the ninth cemetery and is fascinated by a feminine image that would seem like a phantasmagorical chimera ..., it was Drestnia moistening some ferns on some crypts making gestures to see them already grown, even if they had just been planted...!

They approach her intimacy and ask her greetings, Drestnia answers them abstractedly that Etréstles traveled to Patmos to applaud the maiden ceremonies that would be wed in the spring in the nearby meadows. Being able to settle in The Monastery of Zoodochos Pigi, and who later went to the hills of Castelli, as it has been known that everything has been celebrated on a hill that many hundreds of years ago has sheltered our historical fragrances in the unity of the ethereal until the present. Such ruins among some works as well as the Temple of Apollo that will continue to survive with its prevailing mystery not revealed.
Etréstles gives them their congratulations and wraps his arms around Drestnia. They evacuate the cemetery, remaining abstracted in the internal darkness of the catacombs with fewer lights than a feasible twilight of darkness, as if immediately leaving Etréstles to be with him in the spring, shedding light on herself taking them to the Castelli hills, which they would figure in the sweetened exaltation of the pollinations of the nymphs on the maternal and ****** maidens.

They go out and spread their impulses over the promontory of the Koumeterium of Messolonghi with Raeder and Petrobus on Raeder's shoulders. Vernarth invoked the north with her staff where Alikanto would appear with her hooves with greenish stripes.

Raeder says:  Let's go. On those warm currents to follow we will not unite you Vernarth. Smiling, the fantastic boy danced, forming figures that enlivened him to hold on to the legs of Petrobus. They both stared at Vernarth and raised high above the warm clouds. Beneath the Messolonghi miniature, she had Vernarth's sights on them; she was putting reins and her Hoplite tunic, to mount Alikanto. He looks around and makes a big sign to Raeder to follow him to where he was, they suspend themselves and manage to go back to the highest mass of misty airs that would take them against the clock towards Patmos to meet Saint John and Etréstles.
HEGIRA TO PATMOS  /  COPYRIGHT
Michael W Noland Sep 2012
I don't always feel you

nor do i care.

nor shall i fare

the weather of your temperament.

I am exempt of the pettiness, and of the nervous fetishes, in the indifference.

I try not to be presumptuous, in the perceived ignorance, of the plunderers of my wealth

but am more alive.

More willing to die.

More willing to try

anything but sigh

in feeling the mediocre hand of my health.

So high

doling out the breathless help, in the restless stealth, of bland demands, felt,  in the smoking stacks of hell.

I survive off the glean, provoking, glass from sand.

I act,  as though i give a ****.

Evoking ash from hands, in the defiance of no mans land.

Stamped

in the trampled giants of the black.

Sampled, the compliant hacks in backless, tackling of the stance.

Cackling

I cracked.

and cracked the cast, in blast powder, compounding the flames, of the flounder flamed, in profane name calling.

Never to dodge the calling ..

Feeling the falling of doubt.

In the Tao,  of mauling my malevolence.

Thought i bled it out, as the stalling turned to insulting rebukes, in the flukes,  of lands never lived, but shredded in repulsing lingo, with a flute, to do away with the kids, I mingle, in wait of the sedatives to kick in, than,

Bingo

Nail it to the cross, of the intended loss, singling and wringing them out.

Lost

amid, the somber slayings of bombers praying, for fire to rain from the sky.

Rid

of the calmer makings of alarming sayings, for desire to feign from the cry.

Denied.

The reciprocation of a social spy, trying his best to comply to the prize, and smile.

Its been awhile.

Been a while in exile of thine own heart.

Heart of gold in denial.

Denial of the trials where i shone the brightest, in the mightiest miles of defiled lights.

Lights igniting the nights, in my first rights of passage.

Passage granted in the damaged dues of diligence, where i pursued the villages of my virtue.

My virtues perused the innocence and matured.

Matured in the final words of old birds, dying with dimes, and bagged wine in hand.

Never to understand the last laughs from young chaps blowing off their stacks, just to collapse, in their own mess.

I confess to paying homage in the calmly delusions, of my intrusive self abuses, to the ruthless seduction of my bitterly bitten bruises of seclusion.

I try to loosen up a bit, but instead run this gambit of bankrupt belligerence and hope for the best.

******* in the blessed wishes of the test.

Tested in the vetted nutrients of an institutional bowel movement upon my chest.

My chest giving in to the stress.

I often wake in duress as tears flow through the forgotten, as i brush my teeth of the remembrance of dreams, and clean the dumb away.

Clothe my flesh, and put my gun away.

Locking the front door, I journey into my day.

Every day...

One day.

One day from the mundane

I wont strain to change it all.

I will make the call

but never answer.

Instilling the hollowed cancers

to end it all

I shall befall,  the null.

The No.

The land.

enhanced.

Seeing.

The unseeable.

In unbelievable hate.

Conceiving the inconceivable, and cleaning the slate of my faithful fate, in which i ditch the mares of my dared intention.

I concentrate on the beautiful view from the deliberate limitlessness of my vivid visions to another place, that closely resembles the one that i hate.

Consumed of blue suns, and water breathing.

I bloom

in anger activated guns, and painless beatings.

Marooned from afar

I dare to bare the battle scars of taking it too far, and fainting.

Tainting the waters of life with the ****** knife, of my,  positivity.

The imagery of my imagined city

ssscattered across the tattered remains of my naivety.

Sssteadily holding fast upon the mass of men, even though i readily hate them.

In a single flash of rash decision, i forget it all, and go to work ...

smirking in the murky fog, that marks the facade,  where i lurk in shirtless shirking from the cold.

The shaking of the folds, in time, in space, in the told, telemetry of the mold

I'm

emboldened

In the boots that birth, the same old, hold of the complaint.

Applying force in restraint

In pursuit

to unearth, and loot

the saint

in broken wings, and painted words

that twirl, in the spinning ink

on the brink, of the blur, that births,  this sleeping male

to a world, encroached, by mundane flames, poached, from the slain trail of the ordained, tales of Mikha'el.

As others entrails line, the pale comparisons, as mine, are shell shocked in monotony.

i signed with the autonomy, never talked, and marched blankly into the day.

Every day

but one day

to stray

from the mundane

and make it right.

I will get out of my head

and fly

in light.
K Balachandran Oct 2012
My demure doe,
                                                 -disguised,

                                                gunp­owder keg,
effect of your kiss: more is less;
                                                  -not satisfied,
let us roll
on the  bed,

two primitives,
in need to meld

and get over the desire, primordial,

at the earliest,

your fuse, in this regard
is as short as mine,

*let's ask,
each other
for more:
explode.
Tawanda Mulalu Feb 2016
Perfect: I used that word once to talk about you
as if you were a doll with limbs made of plastic:
stiff and whimsical and subject to the niggardly
commands of the conscious- yet you, who thinks
as aggressively as any doll-house builder do not
construct your own set-pieces; instead you
pirouette into one carefully constructed day to the
next as you delicately
stride
from bed to shower to wardrobe to mirror to desktop to
window to mirror to mirror to
mirror mirror on the wall, who’s the fairest of them
all-
and the staid look on your face when the mirror gives no
answer
because it can’t. Checkered skirt, sharp eyelashes, wary
jumper, almost heels. Perfect, you might think
for a moment before your eyes roll gently from self
to mirror
to self
to mirror
to mirror
the self. What was
it that you were looking for if all it does is lead
you back to your skin? Meanwhile, the snow
stutters softly from above as if God had dandruff-
perfect- and it all gently glazes the spongy surface of the world like
flawless coconut icing on some sorry party cake- perfect- and the morning
bell rings impossibly on time like the last
breath you thought was your last- perfect- and somewhere in
America I use words to remind you of the little
unreachables
of perfection that both start and end with your perfectly
snow-pale skin, where somewhere in
America and somewhere on
your thighs perfect ridges of red have formed themselves like
plastic scratches on a Barbie which we both think
are little but we both know
are big
because you are not plastic.

                                               At nighttime our feet
skip on the icy brick pathways that lead from
the dorm-rooms to the library and we shiver
as the snowflakes bob in and out of our bodies
like thoughts
that seem funny but aren’t quite- they melt away
as soon as they stumble upon our skin. From our mouths
cloudy puffs of being flutter out- little butterflies affirming
out listless snowflake-filled minds, sperming out ice-clouds
from our mouths, our mouths, our mouths; birthing friendship.
Breath, visible, is laughter. I trip and swear and momentarily
skate
across a sudden ice-surface as you speak another ice-breath. We
arrive
at the library but dart towards the empty right-side, the science
classrooms. We hope
to examine the thought-skirmishes on your right thigh, to turn  
and change this hopeless world-spinning into centrifuge
separation-
make apparent the light from the dark
                        the firmament from the void
                        the flesh from the plastic, the-
here we are as you talk
about your family and I
try my best to look you
in the eye so I
can become
your eyes
even when
normally
I
am
so
vehemently
against

staring

at the soul-gates of another being-
here we are as you talk;
God is still missing from the centrifuge
of the endlessly turning world- your
axis
is your skin yet
you trust it
not. The salads without dressing,
        the weighing scales,
        the taste of bile at the back of your
throat-
all for skin that
       you
do
not
      trust.
All for flesh that you think is plastic
so
     you
     cut.
      
             Enough
talk because the bell cuts through the flesh
of our conversation. Enough
talk because the world insists on
turning still
and forcing us to revolve
with it. Enough
breathing, enough
snow, enough
life. I remember you saying
that the ratios of your face are wrong;
that certain equilibriums do not exist between
your cheeks your lips your eyes your life…I remember the science
classrooms where parts of you were as mathematical as the architecture... I remember how
you keep thinking your flesh is plastic… You forget how
inglorious the nature of these words is. The problem
with human thought, with the ratios of your face, with the
geometric structures that cut across your thighs, with the
statistical neatness with which your family decomposes;
the problem with our conception of perfect is how
awkwardly it both exists and does not exist for us to
see.
The ratios of your face which you think are broken are
the same miracles I wonder about as you laugh. The incorrect distance
from your cheek to your eye which you think is wrong is the same
lightyear which separates the stars from the planets. The curvature
of your stomach is the bending of a spacetime to accommodate
the way the air must move to let your body occupy the space and time in which it
exists.
The ratios you speak of spring from your own limitlessness, your own
perfect imperfections , imperfect perfections-
strange oddities and unfathomable beauties and yes. Yes,
even the ridges across your right thigh are minute, red,
gasping
grand-canyons of
flesh,
of human, of breathing clay
flesh-
           never
plastic;
            always
worthy.
            
              Recently the voices in my head have been getting louder,
telling me all sorts of things about how the snow ought to bury me
in its mercilessness. They mention also that my words bear no meaning,
my thoughts even less so. Assumedly, the ridges across your thigh
carry such spectres as well but, I messaged you before you went to bed
about coming out and having an adventure because tick-tock-tick-tock…tick…tock…tick-
the last bell of the day is going to ring soon and the voices and ridges
will assert themselves again with the bedtime silence, but check your Facebook
messages and come outside and let’s go skipping with your friends across
the century-old polished prep-school brick pathways that smell archaic because it’s

snowing outside and it’s lovely.
For a friend.

Update, 4/23/2018, the poem found a home here: https://postscriptpublication.wordpress.com/2018/04/22/ratios/   thanks to a friend.
Owen Phillips Nov 2012
I know I've been there,
I've given into death and altered the fabric of reality
Every day we waste away transfixed by flattened images
Of the limitlessness of death
Coupled with elusive, Luciferian harm which will befall us all
Who subsist on the manipulated reality of the hyperspace information field
But one day, enlivened by the festivities of Shakori Hills
And the fungal spirits who awoke beside us
I walked the irreversible pathway through oblivion
Facing cruel destruction and terror
For a horrifying passage across Styx into eternity
And emerged within a crowd of mollusks dancing to the waves of a musical sea
All time suspended in the impossibly drawn-out ****** of the
Archetypal wizardry of rhythm,
The swirling clumps of faces in
Unshakable ecstasy
And seemingly responding to the wild currents of my conscious thought;
A longing for human touch drew the others closer and closer around me
Till they began brushing against me
Bumping into me,
The flow of the crowd saw its axis at my psychic emanation
As once more the last song of all time began with thunderous energy and applause.

I escaped the arresting confines of the crowd
By willing them aside, wearing, as I suddenly became aware, the shoes of Moses
And seeing my muddy feet upon the sands of Egypt
But I yet had no understanding
Of the nature of the garden of earthly delights
Into which I had fallen,
And fear began to envelop me,
Producing law enforcement officials hawklike swooping in to limit my power.
I had but to let go of my acceptance of their power over me to transcend them
But fear tethered me to reality,
Even as I saw about me a Dharmic mandala
Of my past present and future,
Generating inexplicable archetypes around me in a manner profoundly defiant
Of rational logic.

Synchronicity compounded upon me
As the Christos within me
Brought rain down upon us
Forcing us together and leaving me in dumbfounded reverie
Of all that had transpired to bring this moment forth

What had seemed to be the end of history was in fact
The awakening of a new rebirth
The first moment of coming to be
The union of past, present and future
As the reassuring smiles of my trustworthy disciples gently allowed me passage back into a rational existence
I beamed in utter gratitude for the eternal life which Christ afforded us.
Chaos had subsided back into normalcy
But still winked at me
In telepathic coincidence.

My soul has begun to realize that it resides in all things
Soon they are to be reintegrated
kris evans Jul 2015
It seems only yesterday ...
he came by
and spoke to a crowd of curious children....
who have come from all over the country
to see and hear their mentor...
among the thousands assembled there was I
with a book and a pen ...
ready to imbibe ideas and vision from my mentor..
our dear president...
my nation's MISSILE MAN...
the same hero who
stepped out of the premises of the Rashtrapati Bhavan
and stepped into our MINDS....
IGNITING THEM ....
with DREAMS.....
BIG ENOUGH TO CHANGE OUR WORLD....
He taught us that HAVING A SMALL DREAM IS A CRIME...
HE SPOKE OF THE LIMITLESSNESS OF THE MIND....
The possibilities of YOUTH ....
How to transform
a developing nation like ours
into A DEVELOPED NATION......
How to wipe out the stigma of corruption
and EMERGE OUT OF SWAMP.....
AND LEAD INDIA
IN ITS PROGRESSION TO GREATNESS.....
All i can say now
at this point when the whole nation
is mourning the loss of our beloved teacher......
is a promise
to take the torch of IGNITED MINDS....
and light every single mind ,
ever single family,
every single street,
every single village,
every single town
and bring out the true potentials
in the BILLION PEOPLE WE HAVE IN OUR COUNTRY.....
AND MAKE YOUR VISION 2020 A REALITY.....
Let me pledge that
my actions will be a part
of making that vision come true.....
Teacher, dear president, dear sir,dear captain adieu....
#RIP@DrAPJ
Return If Possible
Return If Possible......dear teacher....you left us with dreams.....
bless us to have the power to make it come true for you
K Balachandran Dec 2014
As the wind speed of mind increases, he loses weight
sees the clouds ethereal nearer and crowd in which
he  too jostled like an imbecile, becoming far off dots
selfishness, greed, jealousy,pride, lust , avarice and violence
self-pity masquerading as love, all this still tie them down
some among them fornicate words, turn them in to  ******,
this happens for ages, but none has the power to stop the rot,
look at those mindless wonders that dance in ****, we watch
in horror but pretend as if we are delighted, to keep the peers gleeful.

Don't you want a journey of your own  through inner landscape
no more be a kite,begging for the mercy of those who pull the string
who fake *******, think something and pretend contrary to it, dupe.

"I am sky bound, levitate, a cloud heavy with sadness,still buoyant,
I would rain,when feel drained, assume the white cloak of purity.
I am the earth and fire,wind and water, limitlessness of the space"
Frankie Gestone Sep 2012
How should I know I am real?
You or I? Maybe that's just all inside
And I don't even know what I feel
The stars, sky, moon, clouds, sun, or rain?
Can't even tell the difference anymore
Because life and dreams, they all seem the same
Is it what is all right now? But that goes so fast
When I am done,
It will all be just the past
If the future is just a made-up mindset
Should I wait for you?
Can't put my mind to rest
I wonder if all of that limitlessness out there
The people we meet and all we remember and see
Is just the limitlessness imagination inside here...
Margo May Sep 2014
they say i'm a dreamer
they say i dream too much
but is that even possible?
to dream so much that
you run out of dreams?
that would be a sad thing really.

they say i'm a dreamer
they say i dream too much
but is it something you can limit?
only if you give in to the words
and stop believing in the limitlessness.
that would be a sad thing really.

they say i'm a dreamer
they say i dream too much
that i'm wasting my time
but am i?
my days are brighter with dreams
they give me hope for the future.

they say i'm a dreamer
they say i dream too much
is it because they have none?
so they choose to accuse
and discourage an innocent soul?
maybe they need hope for the future.

they say i'm a dreamer
they say i dream too much
and i set my goals too high
and i should be ashamed of myself
but i'm not. i love who i am
because i'm a dreamer.
K Balachandran Aug 2012
River, with blue, black, red or clear, water, speaks force,
by a wordless word, uttered, throughout the course of  flow,  
and the fierce, swirling currents hidden below,
I am that, which shows its urgent need
to commune with limitlessness.

Winds, carry with them, a meaning concealed,
of elation,  an avarice for every whiff of smell,
wind I am, with  full of speed, demonstrated as
a wish to embrace, pollinate and proceed.

Earth, my nurturing mother, remains in me, mud red,
life giving sprout, the deep thirst of blood;  
its nourishing salts, has secret memories from long  distances,
from the very beginning, we as salt of the earth share.
Earth is where I have planted ancestral  memories for ever,
the desire, to touch, kiss, explore, spread roots, propagate.

Sky is my mind beyond myself, 'sky mind' of cosmos,
when, the clouds that constantly in move, blocking the sun of knowledge,
are finally  removed and  all become clear, I am ready to see the whole,
I stand in awe, like a wondering kid, stand naked below, throwing away all my toys,
seeking the answer to the conundrum of my existence.

Fire, the soul of the rock, in the core, the undying spark, that has seen all,
igneous father, the intellect beyond form, that consecrate all my offerings
of body, mind and spirit, flames in my *****, my love for life eternal  as a seed I plant in her,

**Accept every thing I renounce, with a smile 
 in  this sacrificial flames, Oh! holy fire
make them subtle, formless, transcendental, immortal.
"Idam na mama"(This is not for me)
"Idam na mama" (this is not for me ) the refrain chanted by priests before putting each offering in to
holy fire in ancient Indian ritual "Agnihotra"
Michael W Noland Apr 2013
Intrepidly neglected, of my lessened reasoning, I am dissected, of my insurrection, from the blessed beens of yesteryear's glints, dancing, parading, and burning, in layers, stages, and fazes, fading, and melting, the plastic faces into the smelting heap, that has come so far, just to inspire me.

Always.

Always you unto me, spiraling, indefinitely into the deep, where ceased is the times, with bloodied hands, and laugh lines, laughing one last time, while glancing toward my watch, under setting suns, and rising stars, smiling faces, and in tearful goodbyes, i realise

The sky's limitlessness

And in all the glory, and all the bliss, the eloquent stories, and the gentle drifts, my imagination uplifts, in wisps of gentleness, where i submit to reason.

Bless-ed be, the one who garners to my support, from a vortex of euphoric antidotes, of mindless quotes, and animated emotes, pulsed, from straight faces, and lost hope.

Ill tell the truth, you can go with nope, in whispered breaths of gun smoke, lathered in lith-dope.

Just trying to cope with the flow, until i crash upon the shores of nevermore, and, explore these holes in my soul intent, ascending from the contempt of bent perspectives, and twisted concepts, letting the blood of the peasant from my arms of harmony, trembling blankly to sleep.

To you a *****, to me tranquility, as i sink, into the world i knew, so that it may be seen, casing the well being, of all the things, and pixelated dreams, from a thieves keep.

Deep, down, below me, in obscurity, i seep, through the soil of my turmoil, until my hand reaches out, from beyond my doubts, and clambers from the shadows, outside of myself.

I am born, of mud, of muck, of the stuff, you're afraid of, and all i bare is love, love to shrug the shams astray, vacating the placation, and dichotomies, unifying light, into one me, shining in the rainy streets, of my deletion

Until my completion
Completely
Erases me.
Crossroads are a particular

kind of place where mythology

and actuality combine,

mix and dance with your shadow.



Limitlessness has a name

and social security number

in your restlessness

and your ambitiousness.



I've performed in cafes and on street corners,

In bookshops and depots,

woods and public restrooms

with the junkyard profits

desperately clutching to my clothes,

refusing my money

but begging for my love.



But now I am at the crossroads.



The smoke from my soul

comes in, forces me to turn around,

turn around turn around,

and see the faces,

so many different faces,

all those who have

loved me,

mocked me,

befriended me,

mentored,

hated,

changed

maimed

spit in my eye

called me what they thought I was.



So many faces.

So many eyes full of dreams and ire.



How many would I come to know again?



Who would become fortune tellers

blues-men

teachers

cops preachers

mathematicians builders destroyers

soldiers of fortune

businessmen liars or junkyard prophets?



Who will become like smoke in the fog,

slightly hazy lost-boys

off to never-never land,

never to be seen or heard from

except for the cries that whisper

the time?



So many faces.



What will I be to them?

A companion

friend

liar

hater

lover

brother

sideshow

an I knew him when

a face that looks at their back

at the crossroads,

a wisp of smoke?



I turn again,

turn turn,

a cymbal shot

pushes me forward,

left and right,

but I can never go back behind.



Johanna whispers

Even salvation must get old.



I know she must be correct,

at least as far as I can turn my head.



The right is barred,

the left is guarded by the beasts,

the faces hum a dirge or a lullaby,

I straighten my jacket,

pack my self into a slip bag,

and blow away with the smoke.
The Sovereign of Songbirds
Has been roused
Emitting layers of harmony
Borne of exultation, borne of woe, and
Reverberating in the Key of Elysium

Let your dreams guide you.
As the fulgent daystar
Dawns upon your starry spirit,
The musicality, the euphony of amour
Will abide within.

Soar unto the stratosphere,
For the limitlessness of flight
Belongeth to
The earthen vessel waxing ethereal;
Furthermore, it is only achieved through self-transcendence.

Ye are Children of Manumission;
Therefore, fulminate from sea to shining sea
Until the obsidian of hate
Descends into Magisterial Oblivion
Arising anew as The Element of Freedom.

The Requiem of the Revenant shall rise,
The Maw of Darkness will fall;
Ultimately, the Paean of Light will
Resound upon the four corners
Of the Terraqueous Mother.

(Se' lah)
Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III

04/07/2021
KRS Dec 2012
the orangey flame in front of my eyes
reminds me of youth,
of long summers torched by a raging sun
bright as a candle that was lit at each end
endless nights out ran by insomnia
the dark circles under our eyes became our prizes
tokens and trophies of what was loved and lost and never given up
the dreams and defeats we carried
like white billowing flags held high
by our rag tag band of misfit soldiers
our ever loyal friends.

the melt in your mouth summer air
that dissapated from every pore
and filled both lungs full of life
the light reflecting from girls' long hair
like sparklers fired over a glass lake
on the fourth of july
and the blue ocean waves that crashed and turned
when I looked into his eyes
made me invincible

it was the summer of crazy
the summer of liveliness
the summer where watermelon was king
his seedly servants were spit anywhere
and the only true care was not letting the tank reach E
where driving with the windows down
and your hand out the window
made you fly
untouchable

I inhale then release
breathing out all of these thoughts
it is winter
icy and cold
but here in your car
with my feet up on the dashboard
and the radio chanting a song I once knew
I feel that same feeling of limitlessness
JW Carter Feb 2014
That's what you are. And I can't articulate, because I'm not used to these feelings. I am not used to dragging out such light affections.

My work has been a treatment: for a sickness in my veins I'm desperate to abscond, because perhaps as ink the sad can haunt a jail whose bars are not my ribcage.

I have never used my skill to try and imprison a smile.

How could I anyway, bind with irony the freeing feeling that you give me? Release the helium that you are, and expect it to behave? No paper dares to catch you. No letter, no camera. It is a fundamental conflict between mediums: the joy of limitlessness against the object or pen loyal to the finite, captured world.

Perhaps it would be different, had you installed lesser gusto in me. As it stands, my discipline fell with a vow to seek life without constraint. This year I have been learning; I have been more open, I have been happier.

And with you, I feel infinite.
What better title for a commentary on a distinct lack of itself?
Tyler James Cook May 2014
Waiting for the light to fade in

Slowly engulfing

And blinding

I see stars fighting the rising white light

Everything shines at the start of this new forever day.



Another lie is made, shipped,and sold

Lining the liar's pockets with silver and gold

More people are bought off with luxuries

They're told they can't live without

Those who resist die without a doubt.



I float up to your wake upon a river of lilies

Guilty and numb, I cannot accept your fate

Harboring resentment towards callous reality

Your face is a bismuth white, riving in bitter sunlight

My terrible words could never hold sway, because you died yesterday.



If I could only chance upon one wish, may it be that existence not be such a *****

Have it be that gentle yet honest, kind yet resolving solitude and bliss

last longer than the oppressive itch of so many soulless *****

And let it be known that I love you all, who so care for those who feel helpless and small

Because that is the greatest gift of all, Life and Death are friends and do not simply began and end

At the gates of the garden we have fenced ourselves in.



We will rise out of dust like stars that fought the white of nothing and won the rivers of dark matter to Border The night sky we see within our horizon

A seemingly endless night of heart and starlight

We cannot even began to imagine the limitlessness of our womb the heavens

So we spear the skies with our ****** dreams soaring high into cosmic birthing~place



We'll bleed in honor of the colors that streak across The Moon and Antarctica.

I love all your open hearts teaming with life upon life and death upon death

Let us rise, up over the shadows of our steel cages and deary trappings

And meet the fluttering tree of life.
RyanMJenkins Oct 2015
You are my sunshine
As well as my moonshine
With this gaze, intoxicated
so full of love that it can only be translated when demonstrated.
Fascinated by the waves of patience
To you, I'm yours truly dedicated.
Syncopated stains will not extinguish the flames, for we soar hand in hand after leaps of faith.
In each other we've made a safe place.
Putting the om in home lifts the expression on my face, leaving every trace of what was for that sweet, now taste.  
We aid each other
to chase what we crave.  
Exercising limitlessness
Our souls have already been saved.  
Happy that we took a chance to be brave.  
A moment in time is all it took to see your grace.  Crossing paths at last to live in harmony at our own pace

I work for us, not just the monetary means,
That gentleman we encountered had it right last year in New Orleans
Now you lay, head already in dreams.
My Sun and my moon, I still feel your bright beams.  
I have no worries, because we make an unbreakable team.
I'll nuzzle you soon and always be the shoulder on which you can lean.  
The kisses are coming,
just you wait and see.
Thank you for all the times you fixed me up some tea,
and reminded me to breathe.
I now have enough stillness to take on life with ease.
Let's continue to wondrously grow together,
and show time our eternity~

I love you Meghan <3
Chloe Dec 2021
It is strange to think
that I will never again
smoke a cigarette
for as long as you
and I live

Does the universe
expand?
Or do we just
push it to its
limitlessness?

Already I feel
so unworthy of you
You are an angel
but I am no god

Maybe I will be better-
benevolent and unenvious
I would be anything
for you

It’s strange to think
that I could produce good
into a world
that has brought me to my knees
I now cradle you in my heart
and fall asleep
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the midst of a cosmic allure~ness and misty mountains
floating through vastness of space and time oceans waves were licking your fragrant feet tickling you in a charming mind-boggling sensation starting from your travelling lines across acupressure spots massaging your head and navel through meridians running up along your
tree veins not forgeting to **** too grounded wide cute toes
climbing vigorously up to knuckles
affirming your upper musculature as a living statue
of wit and limitlessness of a great spirit i love you!
We waver in wonder why there's such an exuberance:
There is pure oxygen! Let us inhale. Breeze deep. Emerald lake is a gem tear falling from my left eye and at the bottom of your right one I inquire with curiosity ~ oh, wow ~ deep blue aquamarines drowning in wisdom. . . writing
Imagined by
Impeccable Space
Poetic beauty
~~~~~~~~~
zebra Apr 2017
she became sexually excited
by the thought of being eaten
like a piece of spit roasted chicken
slow cooked
fall off the bone
melt in your mouth
**** food

as she reflected back
she could not remember a time
when she did not harbor
this venomous ache
wanting wanting wanting
what she should not want

she obsessed
some times she dare cut herself
admiring the split tissue
first thin white peaks
the emergent sticky red plush
then the little red river Nile
just a taste
better not eat to much
teeheehee

one summer evening
sitting alone
in a crowded pub
sharing a table with a strange couple
not from around here.
definitely not
may be from outer space

girl became fixated on
their presence

their intensity pierced
like a needle through a banana

both of them lean & tall
almost architectural
like black rod iron gates en-castleations
hair combed straight back jet black
like licorice

the woman wore a tight small bun
immaculate
ornate rings with enshrined family crest
manicured like Malibu real estate
both dressed to ****

girl was drawn to them
they emitted a sense of terror
thrilling her, making her sweat
they looked good enough to eat her

she felt her **** dampen
as they all peered at each other
the man, the woman
siting before her
like Medusa's
with shape shift mouths
and eyes that kiss your soul
till it bleeds
making girl feel like lamb chops
with a side of pom fritz
perhaps a glass of merlot

the woman mused at her
with eyes like black Cole
touched her hand and said
so veautiful

girl found herself in a plain house dress
******-less, bare foot
her toes had been lovingly painted
black with with rich clear lacquer
with no memory of her arrival

woman saunters in
buoyant like a pink float
******* clad

her countenance
like white seamless marble
her eye socket darkened
like pouting dark rose ****
walked to girl
kiss her mouth
then again and again
each time longer deeper sweeter
like a swarm of licking bees
i am yellow daffodils girl thought

man enters like grand swinging doors
to a great cathedral
licks kisses girls mouth
so tender
he tasted of dark butter ***
a hint of worm perhaps
touching her *******
her ******* growing attentive
**** wet wet wet
like low hanging summer fruit

man says we are not human
we are

dragool
undead
loogaroo
dampir
soucoyant


may we please eat you my love
we like for food and the darkest ***
we treasure every morsel
your blood gives us strength
your viscera a prized dark stew
your death brings us optimism
your sacrifice sustains us
we eat you with tears of blood
because we love you
and your body is our holy sacrament
you are our Christ

girl says
you are my destiny
my beloveds
come show me your love
feast on me
take me slow with kisses, black mamba tongue and razor teeth
i do not run from you my darlings

girl disrobed
centered herself on the table
spreads her self wide
like a contortionist
knees held to her chest
toes pointed
feet arched

the man and the woman
on all 4s
hovered like hyenas
first with kisses
womans *** curved like a pearl
her ******* longish as if
stretched silk
with foreboding dark plum aureoles

the mans ****
arterial contoured like a tear drop
a creeping snake with dark appetites
a dispenser of paralytic toxin and MDA
a **** thats poisons and exults
some where between love and death

each of them beautiful
girl thought ooooooowwww

there where long periods of kissing at first
then wet tongues insinuating themselves
in dark rose ****
pink primrose *****
mouths feeding mouths feeding mouths
foot adorations and then teeth and little bites
and mumblings about the grace of Satan
and uncrossing themselves
and thunderous goetic rituals
for fear that god would take their girl away
their lovely food
there sweet bleeding lover
their robe of blood
and starve them
they wept tears of gratitude
as they licked and tore flesh

the pain of their bites excited girl
oh it hurt so
braking her soul
as they ate her sweetbreads

girl
pushed passed limits
pushed past limitlessness
despicable delirious delicious
her **** inflamed

girl thought in fractured clouds
and heaping *******
before fading in to dark water labyrinths


finally she thought
i am lamb chops
with aside of pom fritz
perhaps a glass of merlot

but most of all i am girl
feeding those i love

her very last words
come my darklings
finish me now
clean your plates
drink your wine
and remember

eat up
there are children starving in Africa
betterdays May 2014
dark
dankness
draws
me
forward
to the
brink
of
intra-terristrial
gape
****
of the
globes'
epidermis
the
wind
huff
puffs
skirls
and
sighs
and
in
greeting
mayhap
warning
but
still
we
enter
and
descend
beyond
daylight
cimmerian
murk
swathes
us
broken
only
by
our
headlamps
feeble
in the
reaching
limitlessness
of
inner
earth
we
are so
small
in
comparision
to the
cathedral
structure
we
rest
hanging
like
a
spider
in a
church
spinning
on
gossamer
thread- web
|
|
|
|
|
|
spelunking
the
call
of the
spheres
quiet
secretive
neighborhoods
once used to cave
and
rappel
awe-inspiring
Lauren Christine Oct 2018
the loving is folded inside the aching.
the rich and deep is the sandy beaches reflecting in a million directions —
the light blinding and the earth burning, it is everything
at once.
the splendor of magnitude contained in a moment,
the moment is bursting at the seams now.
the thread unravels as the sheets unveil the
limitlessness of time - the error of its conception,
the paradox of infinite finitude, of finite infinity—
we are living life in the spaces between certainties.
we find our rhythm to the music of experience
and we fall into ourselves, and find home between our ribs,
nestling into the cavity of being, we trip into each other,
fall in embrace, and rise in ecstasy of laughter.
we are copper rays of light, exuberant !
flitting between the maple leaves
we dance with the tails of grass
we hum in synchrony till the moon reflects our lily cheeks.
and we taste the stars and see the galaxies behind our eyes,
the construct of days fade away and it is only space
between certainties of light and dark
and we inhabit it with a bold stomp and a wild laugh.
K Balachandran May 2017
Beauty arrested my eyes,
made my heart beat faster,
realizing beauty as the truth
ultimate, I wooed it every minute.

I sought beauty avidly
all through every experience,
came to understand,
it took forms one can
never imagine.
Ignorance makes one fall
in to the bottom of the pit
of doubt,though one wants
to be a brave heart

Love I sought all round,
with love in abundance
kept ready to give in return!
But love has quicksilver ways
transforms and becomes
different things,in
many realms of being
in  many fascinating colors
The only hope for me to grasp it,
is to become love itself.

I sought peace always
in beauty and love,
when beauty touched me
with such deep, pure love,
I never would have imagined,
or when love displayed,
beauty beyond the borders
of body, soul and spirit,
I was touched by enlightenment.

I did bid goodbye to transience,
and became one with the
sky of limitlessness,
eternity without non duality,
where beauty and love
harmoniously transform in to truth
the one and only essence
effulgent, unchanging, eternal.
truth  beauty  harmony   peace  eternity.
Dark n Beautiful Sep 2019
Yesterday I watch a movie that had ten episodes
There I was alone watching into the morning 3: 00 a.m.
It was more about ***, lies, and manuscripts set in the heart of Maine

Limitlessness,

It mirrors the limitlessness of the human condition?
Facebook is like our mirror, we are always looking into the mirror
Facebook, Facebook in cyber space, who is this fearless of us all

Mirror, mirror, on the wall, who is the fairest of us all:
How many likes, how many visitors, how many notifications,
How many request shall I confirm or delete in a day:  why must I translate?

To see how the other half lived or used to live: juggling with the human behavior
I am running out of space to stored my poems, but my word kept coming

**Isaiah 55:11
so My word that proceeds from My mouth will not return to Me empty, but it will accomplish what I please, and it will prosper where I send
tranquil Jan 2021
Light chases darkness
Like a serpent
Licking it’s own tail
Listless about
Limitlessness that surrounds
NuurSeraph Nov 2014
I usually know what to do
if I can find
one good opening line~
the rest will tend to come out fine
within you can read a few fun rhymes
a general theme shapes out too
shares my unique point of view
at best it can be a test
of imaginations limitlessness
and patient persistence
but one good thing is rest assured
it's a ton of fun, the written word!!
and that dog will hunt...
Saturday, April 4th, 2020

“I hang my head from sorrow, the state of humanity,” sang the Sapient Songbird. Amid surging torrents, the serpentine blights of the human condition, there are spasmodic glimpses of hope. Listen unwaveringly to the voice within as you take an opportunity to confront your sufferings. Self-sovereignty can naught be acquired without introspection.  

What is the essence of the diadem of ascendency? Is it reason & rhyme operative, reverberating upon the wavelength of the sublime? Perhaps, forsooth, it’s law, edict, spawned to envelop all within the delicate balance of governance?  

Boundless freedom canst naught be apart from precept. True manumission is obtained within the analogical perimeter of law. Therefore, rulings & revelations only serve to banish evil, virtue always remaineth unbound. Paradoxically, the soul procures boundless freedom through willful obedience to precepts of the same Progenitorial One by whom we stand.  

Submission is ne’er captivity lest we forget the benison of willful surrender. Moreover, obedience heralds further effloresce in the Light of the Empyrean One, the Cosmo-Plexus of Empyreal Love, Jah.  

Law is not fetter, nor is its absence liberty thereof, but pandemonium. Whence we gaze betwixt lines and letters of the law, we find the Element of Freedom; we find equity; we see in ourselves and others inherent depth, height, width, and breadth of moral character. Yes, even in regulation, the captive is unfettered; the wraith becometh revenant; the vexed soul, is lifted. Consequently, the ultimate law through which the liberation is acquired is the Law of Christ: Love.  

Sometimes I wonder upon the meaning of this life. Where do we find intemerate justice as an existential commonality? Whence shall armistice seize the Hands of Warfare that bruise Terraqueous Mother Earth’s Gaian epidermis? Whence shall every anima know the limitlessness of love? Terrene-scale answers are not mine to behold, nor ascertain, nor fathom.  

I must do all I can to metamorphose as a Kantian phenomenon, a Universal Force. Only when a heart teeming with love takes action, that it emancipates itself & others. Love is Nirvana.  

Each day that passes bringeth more discernment, more understanding, more knowledge, more wisdom. Moreover, I acquire greater “...love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faith, mildness, self-control...” with the passing of consolidated aeons. (Galatians 5: 22, 23) The spirit flows abundantly through in & throughout: it guides each one of us into the infinitude of virtue: love, wisdom, justice, power. All excellency, all grace, and all formosity, are found in Jah. Se’ lah.
I must trust that
Every flaw is a blessing
And with each set of imperfections
There will also be a set of advantages,
It’s the process of efflorescence
That creates such a painful dichotomy;
Blossoming is like an upward spiral of refinement
Extricating iniquity, thereby, heralding excellency.

The ego is a feeble sense of self-identification;
Therefore, I must aim higher,
Or aim to fail instead.
If forsooth, I fail to aim,
I will
Inherit
Defeat by default
(Witherance in its wake).

Words become a lost art
In my odyssey; Without integrity,
The highest divine is futility.
Of Truth in this heart of mine
Acquisition always lies in action,
Motion creates energy
And energy is limitlessness
In what it creates & magnetizes.

When the static rises
I will relinquish my fears
Unto the Deific Divine,
All that quakes my heart,
All that thunders,
What Makes this Mind’s Sky tremulous
Shall be purged & undone
By the Holy Dove.

We all become deluged by darkness
& vexation, at these exhalations
Oblivion seems legion,
We lose our ability to hear
The voice within;
Yet, these oracular undulations,
Are our beckoning The Empyrean
For salvation.

Believe in The Arbiter Of Fates,
Fathom that His fatidic waves
Augur redemption to those
Iniquitously ordained; enclaved,
In the Visage of Shadows
You will come to know
The inviolable promise, that sacrosanct oath
Of aeonic, sempiternal, everlasting love.

(Se' lah)
(The Musicality of The Cosmos)

(&)

(Reverberations)

of

(The Infinite Heart)

~Limitedless Vibrations~

"Elysium of The Soul cometh to those who art stalwart in The Visage of The Shadows."

Contemplation is the genesis of enlightenment;
Therefore, trust
That every moment spent
Whilst ponderous with thought
Begets elucidation
From
The Womb of the Dawn.

~Wisdom comes to those who seek.~

Ever onward,

Comrades & Comradettes;

Moreover,

Know the hope in every glimpse of

The Visage of Shadows.



Excelsior Forevermore,


Sanders Maurice Foulke III
There is innocence in your wilderness
And wildness in your limitlessness
Love yourself with such an intensity
That in front of your love, your own demons are powerless.
Bea Mecum Jul 2018
Step into the 9th house of light
grow towards the love that is beyond earthly boundaries
and understanding enter into all joy,
and do this without judgment,
and without selfish burdens fear is without faith,
and jealousy is without understanding or respect
enter the 9th house of light,
and all beauty may be tasted without limitations
what you may see as a test, is not you can not fail
it will show you the way to the 9th house of light,
and is not a test on your worthiness to enter
all are worthy in the 9th house of light
where shall one enter?
without judgment of others, without judgment of self,
without stigma or taboo
this is the key to limitlessness allow yourself to become unrestricted open to all that is within you
without fear of judgment
let flow the truest love from you
within the 9th house is the secret to the truest, formless, boundless love
the heart of creation all were meant for this realm
to leave behind doubt to leave behind judgment
to leave behind fear seek others who dwell within the 9th house, and invite others to enter all are worthy
There is no part unworthy all is made whole
K Balachandran May 2017
Beauty arrested my eyes,
made my heart beat faster,
realizing beauty as the truth
ultimate, I wooed it every minute.

I sought beauty avidly
all through every experience,
came to understand,
it took forms one can
never imagine.
Ignorance makes one fall
in to the bottom of the pit
of doubt,though one wants
to be a brave heart

Love I sought all round,
with love in abundance
kept ready to give in return!
But love has quicksilver ways
transforms and becomes
different things,in
many realms of being
in  many fascinating colors
The only hope for me to grasp it,
is to become love itself.

I sought peace always
in beauty and love,
when beauty touched me
with such deep, pure love,
I never would have imagined,
or when love displayed,
beauty beyond the borders
of body, soul and spirit,
I was touched by enlightenment.

I did bid goodbye to transience,
and became one with the
sky of limitlessness,
eternity without non duality,
where beauty and love
harmoniously transform in to truth
the one and only essence
effulgent, unchanging, eternal.
truth  beauty  harmony   peace  eternity.
K Balachandran May 2017
Beauty arrested my eyes,
made my heart beat faster,
realizing beauty as the truth
ultimate, I wooed it every minute.

I sought beauty avidly
all through every experience,
came to understand,
it took forms one can
never imagine.
Ignorance makes one fall
in to the bottom of the pit
of doubt,though one wants
to be a brave heart

Love I sought all round,
with love in abundance
kept ready to give in return!
But love has quicksilver ways
transforms and becomes
different things,in
many realms of being
in  many fascinating colors
The only hope for me to grasp
is to become love itself.

I sought peace always
in beauty and love,
when beauty touched me
with such deep, pure love,
I never would have imagined,
Or when love displayed,
beauty beyond the borders
of body, soul and spirit,
I was touched by enlightenment.

I did bid goodbye to transience,
and became one with the
sky of limitlessness,
eternity without non duality,
where beauty and love
harmoniously transform in to truth
the one and only essence
effulgent, unchanging, eternal.
truth  beauty  harmony   peace  eternity.
Nikki Jayne Aug 2021
Woman of warrior spirit
Though forest she runs
Wild hair mud-stricken face
Bare feet hardly touching the ground
Sword of wood clasped in hand
Eyes calmly scanning
Focus etched across brow
Determination in summit reach
Clarity through fresh breath
Icy waters to still racing mind
Expanded views bring limitlessness
Wild nature in human form
Passing trees pass on wisdom to their darting friend
Courage fusing bones, knowing grievance could come with one misstep
Bliss at the simplicity of running free
K Balachandran May 2017
Beauty arrested my eyes,
made my heart beat faster,
realizing beauty as the truth
ultimate, I wooed it every minute.

I sought beauty avidly
all through every experience,
came to understand,
it took forms one can
never imagine.
Ignorance makes one fall
in to the bottom of the pit
of doubt,though one wants
to be a brave heart

Love I sought all round,
with love in abundance
kept ready to give in return!
But love has quicksilver ways
transforms and becomes
different things,in
many realms of being
in  many fascinating colors
The only hope for me to grasp
is to become love itself.

I sought peace always
in beauty and love,
when beauty touched me
with such deep, pure love,
I never would have imagined,
Or when love displayed,
beauty beyond the borders
of body, soul and spirit,
I was touched by enlightenment.

I did bid goodbye to transience,
and became one with the
sky of limitlessness,
eternity without non duality,
where beauty and love
harmoniously transform in to truth
the one and only essence
effulgent, unchanging, eternal.
truth  beauty  harmony   peace  eternity.
Bianca J Cortez Jun 2014
I believe in the law of attraction.
I believe in humanities' limitlessness.
I believe in people, no matter how they portray themselves, however bad or good that may be.
I am no better than you or anyone else in this world and am as much to blame for all the wrongs that are being done to people day by day.
I take partial responsibility for what we have done to nature however I accept everything I can do nothing about as best I can.
I fix and find solutions to my problems so they may be out of my way as quickly as possible and I am proud have grown up to be the girl that I have become.
I try to fulfill myself and make as much people as I can happy, each day, for if I do not, there will be no reason to sleep at the end of the day.
I do not stop when I'm tired, I stop when I'm finished.
I rarely hate, though I would never admit it if I did.
I have pride, though I put it aside for those that are worth more.
I am selfish sometimes, but I think sometimes we must be in order to venture into the darkest tunnels of our hearts so that we may dig out all the horror of our violent and peaceful pasts, and may be guided by the lessons taught to us by our guides, ever so infinite and wonderful, to achieve the goals that have been not taken seriously by our fellow men.
I am a lover of music, of passion and of truth.
I am a listener to all those that have the courage to speak honestly.
I am a soul; filled with secrets I, myself, have not yet discovered and neither have you. But I am thrilled and honoured to have been allowed by the source, God, or Mother Nature, whatever it is that you call it, to BE.

Once again, I declare publicly, proudly and passionately that I am grateful to the  the creatures that I have the privilege of sharing this beautiful Earth with and to everyone and everything that has, that stands and that will stand with me in the journey that we have taken to giving the name 'life'.

Thank you for guiding me and feeding me the wisdom I needed to get through certain obstacles, for supporting me when I thought I was alone.

I am infinitely grateful.
Onoma Jan 2023
those malevolent

mittens of botched blood —

reaching out from the pungent

dusk that paints its

locket of twilight.

neck-deep in childhood…

detached from a mazy

network of breath.

bridging the gap of far gone —

with the intermittent

dress-up of a ghost.

stealing into an abandoned

rusty tool shed, peeled

from the scalp of a

backyard.

filling it with baby jars

of soil — damp with

boyhood touches made dark.

now cursing with the tongues

of worms.

embalming the stillness

of a premature leaving —

an act too solitary to

be re-committed.

grass shaken from dust,

a windup box, a perimeter

of playtime.

now punished by that punctual

occurrence —

with a daily limitlessness.
TheSinBin Feb 2018
feel my life
My helplessness
feel my strife
My selflessness
feel my pain
My carelessness
Feel my cage
My voidness

Feel your courage
Your fearlessness
Feel your joy
Your  happiness
Feel your Truth
Your righteousness
Feel your Freedom
Your limitlessness
I wrote this due to how I, like most people, compare themselves to other people. Sometimes you feel the need to want to even become a clone of them; the hardest part in life is letting yourself be yourself.
Anne denada Sep 2019
To call myself back from the dead
To acknowledge the tightness
Shrinking, refusal to face my experiences
Blocking memories for survival.

I am more powerful than my experiences
To reclaim my inner peace and tranquility
To free my reptilian brain’s over- reactions
Heart pounding in fight, fright and freeze.

My sadness for dis-honouring me
I welcome my trauma into my story
I didn’t breath through it as a toddler
Now I must for survival and my passing.

I forgot I could return home
Back from dying
This is my biggest challenge
To expand totally physically.

Ride the wave of life into eternity
Leave chaos, greed, competition
Far behind, as I disappear into nothingness
The realm of unity, oneness and limitlessness.
Sophia Granada May 2021
A human being is a mouse-cage
Walls of the nest lined and fluffed
with candy and scraps
The whole of what a child would think of
Ice cream for dinner and
Staying up late
all compressed into one cotton-ball for sleeping on
The spirit inside racing on the wheel of the brain
climbing the rope-ladder veins and viscera
Up and down
Until one day it escapes
A thousand wings
A million eyes
A blinding light like a dentist’s
Eagle talons and lion claws
Freefall
Metamorphosis beyond the frail imaginings
of little girls and boys
And you wanted this, didn’t you?
You asked for it, so here,
Limitlessness beyond comprehension is yours

— The End —