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K Balachandran Jul 2018
Rain’s seige  continues,
Hegemony of waters;
Swirling army’s rush!
Andrew Jan 2018
I love someone I do not know
Yet the love continues to show
He conquers the walls of my brain
And invades my thoughts
What is this blitzkrieg rain
My mind has caught?
My first impression
Was a deep depression
As I began to notice
There was no solace
After he shot his rocket launcher
At my heart's monster
There's no way to console me
When his forces control me

My mind is under assault
He's laying siege to my vault
Synapses in my brain firing like a gun
All just to convince me he's the one
My mind is senselessly skewed
By the possibility
I hope to be of the select few
That tests his virility

My fortified castle is falling
Before my one true calling
When his inscription
On my prescription
Is a prophecy
That's mocking me
The uncertainty
Starts hurting me
So I surrender my throne
To be his queen
At least I'm not alone
And we're a team
patty m Jul 2018
In the pale beyond the moon
fossilized predators bay,
while stone footprints lead us nowhere.
We slide across meridians,
masked as silent shadows,
some run with wolves
and sometimes vanish
others are mummified
soon after they're born.
Lost souls, stray cats, fleas on the
backs of ubiquitous rats,
we flail ourselves with twisted hangers
sounding discordant notes.

Tattooed our blood rituals finalized
we peel ourselves from the edge
living knife sharp against the violence always flaring.
Beat up junk, reeking of smoke
the cruelty of it all and yet we reveal nothing,

Lionesque leaders stalk
jabbing their claws, partaking in torture,
now we are random prey;
no tower of control or greetings are chorused,
as we move alone or in pairs conversing only in signs and signals.
We align our sites on the bullet's trajectory,
superimposing ourselves on our enemy's vision,
Like demons spreading disease and infection
we fight until we die, or defiantly dance
in the bloodlust of future freedom.

Idols turned clay, the universe erupting
what do we make of it all?

Nullified regions under siege
and still they fight,
don't they know that we're all dying?
ryn Aug 2014
Street lamps play
As they have before
Dim walkway
Leading to a door

Careful steps
Strewn leaves
Breathe between gaps
Skulking like thieves

Rustling trees
Otherwise nothing
Mind at ease
Heart rapidly beating

Usually stops here
Usually I'd stir
But still in slumber
I drew closer

Eyes on door
Familiar scene
Stood here before
This dream I've been

Up the patio
Door was ajar
Accompanied by my shadow
Stretched far

Tunnel vision
Dripping eave
Door handle beckons
Hand raised to receive

Usually stops here
Usually I'd rouse
Allowed to enter
This time... This house

Handle I seize
Door seemed light
It did not freeze
Hinges did not fight

Revealed the insides
Scanned surroundings
Unlit lights
Stairs climbing

Footsteps I heard
Coming my way
Sounds absurd
But yet I stay

Usually stops here
Usually dream is done
But still was clear
It only had begun

Darkened figure
Descending on bare feet
Beauty light as feather
Ever did I meet

She did not see me
Planted at the doorway
Impossible it may be
Nothing did she say

Walked right by
My eyes followed
Seconds fly
In eternity they burrowed

Usually stops here
Usually I'd wake
Yet still I'm here
Chance I'd take

Stood at the fridge
Back towards me
Under siege
My mind set a flurry

Fridge was opened
Light casted her silhouette
Her back darkened
Curiosity grew fat

Illuminating beams
Accentuated her hair
Like golden streams
Flowing with flair

Usually stops here
Usually I'd startle
Connection did not sever
Continue I was able

Spellbound I gawked
Rooted like a tree
Wide-eyed I stalked
This siren before me

She drank
Not knowing I was there
Stiff as a plank
I was locked in a stare

Finally broke free
Shifted my weight
She turned to me
And then said...

Then it ceased
Then I awaken
Surprisingly pleased
Slice of heaven

Who was she?
Silhouetted face
Perpetually...
Mysterious grace

Foreign albeit familiar
Strange but true
Now rings clear...


It is you...
Based on a dream I had.
Gabriel burnS Oct 2017
Too good and yet true
Too beautiful
To taste
Without falling in daze
Without following
Delirious
An aroma trail of craving
On the back of my tongue
I’m getting equal measures
Of heaven and ****
Perfectly balanced

My eyes are my traitors
Plotting to open the gates
Sending stowaway warriors
Whom I never gave orders
To slip behind walls
Of thickest black pupils
In the Trojan horse
That my eager look is

And gazes are bridges
Unwillingly
Supporting the siege
Of epiphanies
You and me
Caught in our ambush
Completely surrounded by Us
Jim Davis Apr 2017
In the last
three decades,
after we became one,
I touched
amazingly beautiful things,
horribly **** things,  
unbelievably wondrous things

I touched nature's majesty;
hued walls of the Grand Canyon,              
crusty bark of the
Redwoods and Sequoias,
live corals of the
Great Barrier Reef,
dreamlike sandstone of the Wave

I touched magical and strange;
platypus, koalas and
kangaroos Down Under,
underwater alkali flies and
lacustrine tufa at Mono Lake,
astral glowing worms
in the Kawiti caves

I touched holy places;
Christianity's oldest churches,
the Pope's home in the Vatican,
Hindu and Sikh temples and
Moslem mosques in India,
Anasazi's kivas of Chaco canyon,
Aboriginal rocks of Uluru and Kata Tjuta

I touched glimmers of civilization;
uncovered roads of Pompeii,
fighting arenas of Rome,
terra cotta armies of Xian,
sharp stone points of the Apache,
pottery shards from the Navajo,
petroglyphs by the Jornada Mogollon

I touched fantastical things;
winds blowing on the
steppes of Patagonia,,
playas and craters of Death Valley,  
high peaks of the Continental Divide,
blazing white sands of the  
Land of Enchantment

I touched icons of liberty
and freedom;
the defended Alamo,
a fissured Liberty Bell,
an embracing Statue of Liberty,
the harbor of Checkpoints
Alpha, Bravo, and Charlie

I touched glorious things
made by man;
the monstrous Hoover Dam,
an exquisite Eiffel tower,
a soaring St Louis Arch,
an Art deco Empire State Building,
the sublime Golden Gate Bridge

I touched sparks from history;
the running path of an
Olympic flame just off Bourbon,
the last steps of Mohandas Ghandi
at Birla House before Godse,
******'s Eagle's nest and the
grounds over Der Führerbunker

I touched walls of power;
enclosed rings of the Pentagon,
steep steps of the
Great Wall of China,
untried bastions of
Peter and Paul's fortress,
fitted boulders of Machu Picchu

I touched strong hands;
of those conquering
Rommel's and ******'s hordes,
of cold warriors of
Chosin Reservoir,  
of forgotten soldiers of Vietnam,
of terrorist killers of today

I touched memories of war;
the somber Vietnam memorial,
the glorious Iwo Jima statue,
the cold slabs at Arlington,
the buried tomb of USS Arizonians,
Volgograd's Mother Russia  

I touched **** things;
shreds of light in
Port Arthur's prison,
horrible smelly dust
in the streets from 9/11,
ash impregnated dirt
in the pits at Auschwitz

I touched oppressed freedom;
open ****** plazas
of Tiananmen Square,
smooth pipe and concrete
of the Berlin Wall,  
tall red brick walls
of the Moscow Kremlin

I touched constrained freedom;
heavy ankle and
wrist ***** chains
in the South,
little windows
in Berlin's Stasi prison,
haunted cells in Alcatraz  

I touched remnants of madness;
wire and ovens of Auschwitz,
stacked chimneys and
wooden bunks of Berknau,        
Ravensbruck, and Dachau,
the tomb of Lenin,
toppled Stalins

I touched hands of survivors;
of Leningrad's siege,
of German POWs and
of Russian fighters
of Stalingrad's battle,
of Cancer's scourges  

I touched grand things;
deep waters of the Pacific and Atlantic,
blue hills of Appalachia,
towering peaks of the Rockies,
high falls of Yosemite Valley,
bursting geysers of Yellowstone,
crashing glaciers of Antarctica and Alaska    

I touched times of adventure;
abseiling and zipping in Costa Rica,
packing Pecos wilds and Padre isles,
flying nap of earth Hueys to Meridian,
breaking arms in JRTC's box,
fighting Abu Sayyaf, and Jemaah
Islami in Zamboanga City

I touched through you;
wet sand beaches of  Mexico and Jamaica,
mysterious energy of the monoliths of Stonehenge,
rarefied air in front of the
Louvre's Mona Lisa,
ancient wonders of Giza,
Egypt's tombs and pyramids

We shared soft touches;
drifting in Bora Bora's
surreal waters,
joining hands camel trekking the
Outback's dry sands,
strolling along Tasmania's
eucalyptus forest trails

basking in swinging hammocks
under Fiji's bright sun,
scrambling in
Las Vegas' glittering and
red rock canyons,
kissing under the
Taj Mahal's symphony of arches

We shared touching deep waters;
propelled in gondolas
through the city of canals,
Drifting atop Uru cat boats on Lake Titticaca,
Swooping in jet boats
up a wild river in Talkeetna

Racing in speed boats
around Sydney's great harbour,
skimming in pangas in Puerto Ayora,
paddling the Kennebec for
East's best petroglyphs,
cruising Salzbergwerk's underwater lake

We touched scrumptious things;
Beignets and chicory coffee at DuMonde's in the Big Easy,
Hot *** with sesame sauce
in the walled city of Xian,
Peking duck, dimsum, scorpions,
snake and starfish on Wangfujing Snack Street

We touched delicious things
Crawfish heads and tails at JuJu's shack
and ten years at Jeanette's,
Langoustine at Poinciana's, Fjöruborðinus and Galapagos,
Cream cheese and loch bagels
at Ess-a' s in the Big Apple

I touched your hand riding;
hang loose waves of Waikiki,
a big green bus in Denali's awesomeness,
clip clopping carriages of Vienna, Paris,
Prague, New Orleans, Krakow,
Quebec City, and Zakopane,
the acapella sugar train of St Kitts

We shared touching on paths;
the highway 1 of Big Sur,
the Road of the Great Ocean,
the bahn to Buda and Pest,
the path to the North of Maine,
the trail of the Hoh rainforest,
and time after time, the way home

Yet,
I could spend
the next three decades,
in simple bliss,
having need for
touching nothing,
other than you!

©  2016 Jim Davis
A poem I wrote last year for my wife!  Posted now since it matches the HP' theme for today - "Places"
Keith W Fletcher Sep 2016
My eyes are beyond polluted
By the overflowing inanities
That paint wordless post-mortems
On yesterday's lost fantasies

Rolling over lifeless as dead certains
When obligations fall into disrepair
And the king of all invocations
Awaits power sitting in an electric chair

As darkness shrouds the uninspired
In  triumphant ticker tape parades
While the bewildered beast becomes the feast
A million glasses in toast are raised

To the jesters unequivocally basphemous proposal
To the queen of all frustrated converts
Who Once Upon a Time willingly surrendered
To the impresario pretender
Who fooled the world by laying siege on the empty house of cards

And with all the power granted
By the grace of obscenities triumphant screams
Separating me from reality by infiltrating my failing vision
With the polluted overflowing inanities of these cellophane dreams
Tom Spencer Jul 2015
I had not been born yet.
Still, I can see you at your labor -
alone, scouring the meadows
for the stones -
lifting their gray shoulders
from the moist earth -
pulling them from the
green grasp of briars,
goldenrod, and
Queen Anne’s Lace.

The smell of the earth
must have filled you with
your own childhood memories -
of plowing fields
and cold mornings
trudging across barn yards
mud thick on your boots -
promising yourself
that someday you would leave
and never return.

I can hear the pick axe -
the sharp strikes
against the stones,
and the dull thud
when the earth
swallowed the blade -
and the deep exhalations
when the stones tumbled into
the old wheelbarrow – new then -
that now leans rusting
against my garden shed.

Some of the stones were so large -
far too large for one man –
how did you move them?
I look at the old photographs
and you seem so young –
so much younger
than I am today - and so thin –
staring off-frame beyond the camera.
What were you looking for
in those fields?

I can see you sorting the stones,
stacking them -
building and unbuilding
and rebuilding the walls
and  terraces
until the walls were true
and the terraces level
and planted with dogwood,
birches, soft grass for bare feet,
and bordered with roses.

Did you know
that you were building my castle?
That the highest terrace
would be my tower and keep?
I remember calling out to my
knights, my legionnaires,
and tribesmen –
rallying them in defense
of the citadel –  ready for
the coming siege.

I also remember looking out
across that verdant kingdom
for the last time -
no longer a king or a boy –
and miles away, across the river
to the west, I imagined
the new home that awaited us.
I couldn’t know
how far away it would be
or what it meant to leave.

This morning,
as I looked out across
the garden that I have built,
I felt the weightlessness of time
and its gravity
settling me into place.
For a brief moment I had
the sensation that I was standing
on the shoulders of
gathered stones.

(for my father, Guy Spencer.)
Tom Spencer © 2015
Jason Lingaya Feb 17
For you I’ll learn to fly

High up high

Above the skies

Past the limits

Of the mind

To the serene siege

Of the soul

Where light is dim

And time is still

You are my pride

My Odyssey

My everything

Ghosts and Demons behold

To mine fears I command

Coz today coz of you

My quest is within.
sandra wyllie Feb 15
Freedom itself is a binary, being tied
to your own convictions. You're the ***** as well as
the master.  The person you face in the mirror
every morning tied to her truth, blocking out

all else, as the shade from a cloud when it covers you,
dark and low. A lonely truth that keeps you under
siege for your beliefs. You bare all, as the apple tree,
the fruit, the stem and the leaves. You’re

meant to be cut open. You’re not a waxy display
in a wooden bowl set in the middle of the table
for show. You’re meant to be plucked, bitten
and ****** to the core. You’re meant to be
enjoyed. This is what you live for.
It is the winter of our discontent tumultuous times, when
pain and suffering are most prevalent. In the year of 2019
a nation once filled with hope and promise have betrayed
It's dreams. Our leaders have been vanquished replaced
with disgrace, cold unflinching  evil wearing a human
face.

It is the winter of our discontent when colors clash over
words of hate, false rhetoric is fed to the disinchanted
sweetened with promises unkept, while using racial hatred
as the bait. There is a cancer among us thats feasting upon
our fears, If we (America) continue to allow him to do so
our nation will be redused to cinders in a matter of years.
I have said this before and I will say it once more, the clock
Is ticking. where will you be when the bombs start to fall?

It is the winter of discontent, where no one is safe from
a twisted mind that would bring about war between the
races, the real truth hidden behind a wall of deceit,
slandering the Mexican, Latino Homosexuals and the
poor. All the while convincing  his sheep that there is
an ongoing boarder war, when the criminals who run
his empire he chooses to ignore. Our country Is under
siege from the Inside we can only save Our nation
with understanding and love no more will hatred be
our (America) legacy. In the words of the great man
Dr. Martin Luther King. from every mountain
top Let Freedom Ring.
Madeline Harper Aug 2018
A ******* affair is common here
In a cemetery of sorts
We share a commonality of fear
Under siege of this final court

Where ash is finer than honey
And blood is a finer wine
And blood moons are just as sunny;
For where you die, there you dine

If pumpkins are a fable
And black cats are a muse,
Then we remain unstable
With none left to abuse

As darkness is a scary friend
I have never known a kinder foe
This void preaches a bitter end
And will follow wherever you go

There is a madness along this bend
And when it’s half passed dark
If you hear our drums: prepare for the end
Prepare for your embark.
I know it’s august but gosh **** it I want Halloween
Sleep has been a sluggish pixie and the moon a constant Patheon
Of Twilight Sirens. I am lulled into molasses eyes and am never sane.
Only a  ghost in my sheleton. A malingering cocoon
in the shape of a perpetual Snow White Crane.
I garden the grove of Midnights inner thy
and valiantly persist. I lay siege where I lay down my arms to suffer peace - as merely a mirage of luminous Tchotchkes and stolen kisses from Abyssal Lips.

Under wrong stars, I roam the Halls of UnTime. I go on my way where looming is sprinting into stagnations embrace
with all the vigor of Hermes. Floating in the hall is like surfing a dark gods wave. An undulating fog
of prodigious oblique.  in haste.
I am a Time Machine that writes poetry
and may never finish my Tea.
Earl Grey.

With the Soul of a
Frozen Agog.
Kathryn Irene Jan 16
There's love in this hate
Passion in the flames
I'll be the monster that hurts you,
The lover of your desires
And you the change that makes me better
To be the guardian and swear to protect you,
Shield you and have you as mine
There's others that deserve you
Your sweet eyes and caring soul
But no one will love as strong as I
We tear down the castle walls
Storm the castle and conquer our siege
Oh of course, darling,
I still love you,
Though you're in his arms instead of mine
- SkullsNBones
View more poems on my instagram
www.instagram.com/SkullsNB0nes
We, the invisible reasons for your problems, blind ourselves to the
dismal inevitability that we will
suffocate because you refuse to stop
the pillaging of the future for the sake of your own ******* lineage being able to further itself and potentially give you a chance to again close your mind and scream as loud as you can when confronted with your own toxicity

We, the ones who humbly take the bludgeoning from your self-proclaimed pious hand, know these chains are only on your bleeding wrists and ankles.

We, the silent and the broken, know Santa Muerta by the nicknames she had in college and all accompanying wildness she brought in her wake.
We still will ****** your hair while you
throw your tantrums and wail about what is and isn't fair on your deathbeds.

We will burn the mattress and all while cheering you on on your flight into the night sky you ignored for a lifetime.

We, the servants of streaming digits and stewards of bottled stardust, will create stories about how it wasn't your fault and how you shouldn't be hated for bringing the world crashing into the excrement of wasted potential so our children know there was a choice to be made.

We, the overly polite pariahs pry laughs and love and **** and learning from looming catastrophe like Burroughs writing ***** Lunch with a glassy eyed stare that burn holes in the veil that hid the tide of partially coagulated blood and ******* that YOUR world preached was it's milk and honey.

We, the proof in the molded pudding still finding time to rot, will burn tobacco fields in your honour just to dance while getting drunk on the breaths you'll never waste.

We, the lovers of questions and haters of creeds, let tears stream in the hope that they are not considered part of our body's 75 percent and fantasize about your ghosts seeing them and the dehydration they may be in spite of and quiet your yelling and shaking of fists at the clouds when overcome by the slight sadness that whispers "its too late" lovingly into your ear.

We, the lovers, the thieves, the reviled, the *******, the witches, the junkies, the ******, the reptiles and worms under the rocks society deems unusable and misshapen, will be the ones lifting the crowns off your corpses and throwing them high as graduates do when full of a hope only ever dashed by themselves.

We, the drooling monsters you vehemently deny anything besides the cramped closets or the space between bed and floor in childhood bedrooms, will be the Valkyries to descend onto the blood-choked battlefield you set aside for your souls to suffer on and offer you respite in the form of soggy bread and wildflower honey while  ravens and jackdaws bicker over the eyes and fingers of those that once showed us how to ride a bike or drunkenly beat us beneath our favorite trees or touched us in dark rooms in ways that would chase Love away from the shadow of our hearts until we finally climbed high enough to see it all as someone screaming of war and bravery while running from the sound of steel biting steal because their protectors talked so highly of honour and duty that it seemed as if it were God and Adam touching fingertips on the arched ceilings of youth that then was painted on the crumbling walls of abandoned houses they would secretly indulge on the forbidden fruit in the pages of a faded **** magazine or up the skirts of blushing  girls who put on their mother's prudishness until fingers pushed past
cotton and virtue alike to the warm center they both melted in.

We, the unsung and numb, walk in spirals while the complexity you rebuked as devil-born becomes the sigils of yet-to-be kingdoms bringing about golden age after golden age in the distant mists rolling over hills and valleys of memories of moments yet to coalesce into rigid experience.

We, the eyes weeping blood atop crumbling pyramids, have seen the walls you want to build in futures dissolved in the winds blowing dust over the Dream-roads we skip down and how it resembles the one you built to keep your heart from breaking from the pressing mass of what you can't file away as noise or heresy or communist propaganda;
We drew throbbing ***** and dripping ***** on all the blueprints we came across and tucked them back into the secret compartments of  wardrobes and roll-tops passed down through generations.

We, the keepers of the singing stones you traded for cheap concrete, will embrace the tiny souls you neglected out of ignorance to the existential snake oil pitch you broke every tooth biting down on all because the salesman reminded you of your drunk father or mother imposing their wills like you make shadow puppets dance on peeling wallpaper in the silence that ensued after they had passed out on creaky couches reeking of Lucky Strikes and spilt ***** while the shine of the staticky T.V. set covered them like the blanket no one ever put over their slumbering forms because of those infinite lists of excuses used to skirt the skirmishes of showing any kind compassion even if they alone were sole witness to it.

We, the pieces of self the deathbed "you" sent hurtling backwards through time to shine lights on the siege seething at the gates of what you stand for, are only holding those lanterns to show you that fleeing is futile and your death is just a hallway with a door that leads to the knowledge that life is not a cell to watch time morph into tally lines scratched into cold stone as if  they were epitaphs for the seconds bet and lost at the roulette table crafted from any slaveship the ocean never swallowed.

We, the flames mimicking those dancing girls you longed to have squeal under the idea of your thrusting masculinity amidst the graffiti on the bathroom stalls in seady dive-bars or the paupers playing prince you following giggling with hope in hand like a bouquet of baby's breath and daisies for that one day they would stop and turn and smile so handsomely that your knees would shatter against one another and wedding chapels would bend down to tie tin cans to bumpers of beat up Buicks and Oldsmobiles your fathers gave as dowry and the crowd could watch "just married" poorly written in shaving cream on the back window grow small until it disappeared over the horizon.

We, the dreamers, are tired of sleeping and are in need of a old tree to swing from, to bury our dreams like beloved pets under, and watch as it lets its leaves fall to the hungry earth that is more patient then anyone closed eyed and humming ancient syllables beneath crooked branches.

All the ones you climbed and kissed and fell in love under have died from too many hearts around intials being carved into them or were cut down to make fascist pamphlets you yourself passed out at churchs mistaking the mask with bone structure or the river for the people it swept to sea.

We are laughing;
like a loving mother at her clumsiness on display in her cackling child and not like the crowds gazing at the sideshow stage as the curtains pull back and stage lights illuminating John Merrick's flesh and the intricate dissonance it lent to minds.
Minds that afforded only sips of bliss as monotonous stints on factory floors but were preached about like they were some heavensent golden cobblestones laid lovingly all the way
to the beach where Heimdall will one day sound his horn, one foot feeling the grit of the edge of the world and the other washed clean for the grave we will all step in.

So, all these words, all these images, all of it is intended to be a moon so all the stagnate tide pools that have forgotten their origin and the freedom they used to mould the lesser forms they forage forgetfulness from.

We, the ones beneath you on the climb to the summit of our collective soul, beg you to think of something beside yourself  when taking a ****.

It is not just ******* in the wind if there isnt wind and we are right below you and dying of thirst.

It is not an inalienable right if someone else is deprived of the same.

It is not Heaven's gate if the brilliant gild has a melting point or if it remains latched to any soul's approach.

It is not "liberal *******" or a myth if whole flocks of birds fall from the sky or schools of fish wash up on beaches while people still quest for a "The Kingdom".

It is not "god" if love dispels it like smoke hanging in the kitchens your great grandmother sat in and told you about a witch shapeshifting into dogs without heads to scare drunks stumbling home because she was a ******* racist.

It is not just food if someone's organs fail from a starvation that even the worms and flies are free from.

You wave your banners and let your warhorns echoe and you wear your ignorance as armor.

We, the eaters of life and death, will chisel a name into stone and pick your bones clean if you think we should march to the sounds of drums and trumpets just because you were ****** enough to think it was anything other than your masters convincing you to whip yourselves ****** and to take pride in the job because "at least God hath been kind enough to give you a purpose" or "he works in mysterious ways".

**** that.
Look at what it has brought out of the swirling sea of " all that could be" while you write the same song about how shiny and numerous the scales of the prize are.

We are not responsible for pillaging God's bounty.

We are the bounty and our emptiness and lack of foresight are in jeweled bowls at your feet, but in your hubris you believe it to be the slaves that come to wash the dirt from between your toes.

We are Death and She is the wetnurse that will give us intimacy to fertilize our hearts by refusing us her breast but turning our heads to your silhouettes shambling off the edge of existence far off in the distance only a decade or less could be confused for.

[AS ONE VOICE WE SING/SANG/HOWL:
Lux amor potentia restituant propositum dei in terris.]

As if it were as easy as holding the hand of a dying tyrant afraid they cannot see a tunnel or the luminous terminus while wearing your father's face as a mask to trick radiant angels or the contortions of gods reeking of struck matches by those trembling and their swirling black of hearts closed to the breeze carrying leaves celebrating their liberation and caressing a cheek they were too ashamed to kiss when opportunity was their ally.

We shouldn't hate these piles of skulls all parroting the same axioms to those who only show up to add another or leave an empty bottle turned into a candle holder, wax dripped down the neck and froze before any trace of tallow could finally unite with the dirt it longs to become one with;
icicles hanging from the eaves of abandoned sanitariums.

This place was supposed to be and give alot of things but that is what lead THEM to drown in the sound of buzzing bees, birdsong, and abundance in all directions.

I suggest we stop trying to squeeze it into a shoebox we scribbled Promised Land on and just let it be the open armed paradise it inherently is.
Let it be the heart and home as well as the hostile territory because it is only ever that and what we wont find in any Oracle's Prophecy.

I'll end my rambling with a question and it's answer. Someone once told me this and I found quite funny as well as enlightening...

How do you turn a police station into a hospital and a schoolhouse?

Burn it to the ******* ground.
Johnny Noiπ Nov 2018
Miss Arab World – Arabic's Official
National Beauty Pageant (Arabic: إنتخاب ملكة جمال العرب‎)
is a beauty contest in the Arab World.
The contest seeks to select the Arab
girl that best represents her country
based on traditional Arab customs
and traditions. Saudi Arabia and the definitions
of the adjective or the Arab people.
So that when the first to the border of the lands
of the Arabs from the Arabian Peninsula
in the externals of Seminational
was able to pacientur or the squalid places,
with stiffs in many places
in the Middle East, and Africa,
inhabiting the north. Heretofore, the plan
is to have no leader but also in the North African
French Arabs of the Arabian horses.
It can also be a reality together,
and the Arabs to respond to them.
Examples in other words;
seven eighths parts of the old Palestine Arab states,
especially Syria and Jordan but it's almost 300 years,
whereupon they shook hands, the Arabs,
which with the deputies of diverse nations,
they began to burn with fire,
after which there has been a fire,
the deceitful man shall not
find grain, but the substance of these precious
beans are better. Here's a part of the public
health magazine founded in the year
of the Arabs and Jews in Jerusalem
and the run on the doctors. It is one
of a few problems in the hands
of the Arabians to the speaker.
Also, Arab sailors returned back with
shiploads of handicrafts from India.
Putting off from here and seeing
the beautiful big blob of silver, and the Arabic ******.
The Arabians to the army of the tribe
of the Turks in the former siege of the enemy,
this can be increased to a robber,
the Express to Bangladesh to restrict the cities of the past
and of the Arabians, absolutely.
The main markets are Germany,
Austria, Italy, France, the US and Arab countries.
But even those who were on the left wing
to the left on the continent, it is not out of Africa -
which is neither a nor the banter of the south
and of the vale, Arabic, toward the north side.
Ambassador returned from Alexandria
to explore the fourth Arab tarboosh
in a red dress. This is the truth, as seen from friends
and of what was to be reduced in the interests
of brevity and of the Arabians,
that they should not say in every case.
In Iraq mountains the Arabs are not legendary,
literature and culture in Frankfurt, by the way.
Egypt trip is the same authority tries to
"understand what is Arabesque.
One day some high Arab unity
and Arabs negatively affect them.
The carved out Germans, Slavs,
Roman Arabia, but also others.
When orientalists changed the way people
see Islam, Arab and the Middle East.
But he has venerable States
and other Middle East and vice versa;
nearly 300,000 North Africans in the heat
for example through the cake ranks
of the Free French. he also cannot attune
to Arab force then to receive them.
for example, the Palestinians like other Arabs,
not Hebrew even though most of the Muslims
and many people are Christians. Assyrians
in the region long before the British,
the Ottomans, Arabs and Kurds. 1 am inside
a share of the ignorant opinions are convincing
Western European nations that Arab
in the Middle East is equally exporting
sand to the Arabs - or whether to sell
the Scots haggis. 711 dramatically invasion
of Europe is in the pen separated from the rest
of the island, on some of them and the Arabs
and the Berbers of North Africa and to their gates.
Henceforth not only to the emperor,
that he was visited by the immortal gods
among you and it is also related to the complexity
of the genera use of which is in the Ministry
of Civil North Africa, the Arabic and the toughness
of the hide and rests upon the painted ages of Arabia,
and of the Arabians by far the most thoroughbred
are done. Miss Arab World - Arabic to Arab
miss the Miss beauty contest in the Arab world.
In a contest that asks the person to choose
the best girl in the Arab region on the basis
of traditional Arab customs and traditions.
Arab World - Arab state and the public posture;
national contest struggle, the mass of the Arab world,
Arab elite competition is beautiful.
There is a competition to choose the best girl
in the Arab region, according to Arab tradition.
Eastern birds, but refused to defend his plans.
Thousands of horses in Mexico and Mexican cities,
and a group to join in asking the Indian vice
chairman for photos of the gardener,
and into a taxi and finally the candy to Sinai,
the pillar of the water, or that the musical,
the Forum and the Miedusa for the most part
young people, a child, to Aristotle Benjamin
of the garden. Four smoke. In short,
the report shows that there were hundreds
to exercise care to protect yourself
from harmful computers. ::: Saudi Arabia,
Canada, at the end of the golden age.
There is a real story to tell and South Zarkarov,
Latvia, Barbados in Bulimia. In Kenya,
the world's gold and blue world,
the ship began 10 years ago.
Newspapers and magazines.
American Vertebrata is "bad".
Igor sleight away. And because of his flesh. . .
Cats, oceans and seas, from Ireland
to the databases drinking games
in the US and Saudi ...
Saudi Arabia and the Arab adjective
or from definitions. Is the term of such circumstances
as with the first result in the earth
and they were in external things,
and the Arabs out of Arabia,
was able to Seminational pacientur,
on the squalid places and in the neck
of the large number of places in the Middle East,
and Africa in which is the seat of the north.
Hereforth is not their leader, but also in the North
African French Arabs of the Arabian horse.
It can also be about one thing,
the Arabs have to respond to them.
Examples in other words, seven eighths
parts of the old Arab states in Palestine,
especially Syria and Jordan but it's almost 300 years,
whereupon they joined hands, the Arabs,
which the deputies of divers nations,
they began to pass through the fire and burn,
And after him, there was not a fire;
a deceitful man and deceitful men shall not find gain:
but the substance of the precious beans are better.
This is part of the public health magazine founded
in Arab and Jews in Jerusalem run by doctors.
There is a developer with a few Arab speaker.
Also, Arab sailors returned back shiploads
of handicrafts from India. Having divested
themselves of silver and for the Arabs
on the one side it's great to see the beautiful blob.
For the tribe of the Arabs, the Turks,
the former siege of the enemy,
the army of the Bangladeshi.
The cities of the restraint of the past,
the expressions of the Arabian
who is a robber, q can be increased.
The main markets are Germany, Austria,
Italy, France, the US and Arab countries.
But the man who is to the left
of the horn of the continent of Africa -
which is neither a, north to the south
and the lowlands of various and theirs to the north.
Alexandria, the ambassador returned
to explore the fourth Arab tarboosh in red dress.
This is not to say the truth, all of his friends,
and of the Arabians to the use to be reduced
in the interests of brevity.
Iraq mounts high, the Arab is legendary,
and culture in Frankfurt literature, by the way.
Egypt, on the authority tries to
"understand what is Arabesque.
One day, up Arab unity and Arab negatively
affect them. Cælator Germans Slavs in
Roman Arabia, and others. Since Orientalist
and others changed the ways of the people
of Islam in the Arab Middle East.
But he was the venerable Cælator
of the States of the Middle East,
and vice versa nearly 300,000 in the North
African heat, for example through
a cake orders; Free French, he also cannot
attune to the Arabs wanting to receive him.
for example, the Palestinians, like other
Arabs are not Hebrew, although most
are Muslim and many people are Christian.
Assyrians in the region long before the British,
the Ottomans, Arabs and Kurds.
1 am in the middle to share with awareness
that there are proofs Western European nations
and the Arab in the middle east are equally
exporting sand to the Arabs - or whether to sell to the Scott haggis
711 dramatic invasion of Europe in a pen separated from the rest
of the island as some of them, both Arabs and Berbers of the North
of Africa to the gates. His forth not only
to the emperor who had come from the immortal gods
is in thee and that, too, to the complexity
of the general use of which is in the Ministry
of the Civil War in North Africa,
in the Arabic and toughness of the 'skin,
do they dwell on to depict the ages of Arabia
and of the Arabians, Thoroughbreds
far off are made Miss Arab World - Arabic
lack the Arab miss beauty contest
in the Arab world. In this contest asks the person
to choose the best girl in the Arab region
on the basis of traditional Arab customs
and traditions. Arab World - Arab state
and national public contest's physical struggle
and the mass of the Arab world, Arab elite's
fair competition. There is a competition
to choose the best girl in the Arab region,
according to Arab tradition. Eastern birds,
but refused to defend his plans. Thousands
of horses in Mexico and Mexican cities,
and to form associations Indian vice president
for photos gardeners and into a taxi,
and finally the candy in China and the pillar
of water or the musical Forum
and Medusa's mostly young people,
young and Aristotle Benjamin in the garden.
Four smoke. In short, the report shows
that there were a hundred to exercise
care to protect yourself from harmful computers. :::
Saudi Arabia, Canada, at the end of the age
of gold. There is a real story to tell
about South Zarka, Latvia, Barbados and Bulino.
In Kenya, the world's gold and blue world,
the ship began 10 years ago. Newspapers and magazines.
American Vertebrate is "bad".
Igor craft away. And because of the flesh. . .
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and drinking games databases of the US Saudianique.
Saudi Arabia and the Arab adjective
or definitions. Let the term with such luck,
as one of the first of what would be done,
on earth and in the worship of the external
they were against the Arabians, who came
from Arabia was able to Seminational pacientur,
the filth and dirt and on the neck in the number
of places in the Middle East and Africa,
in which the seat of the to the north.
Henceforth it over them, the head of the Gallic
and the Arabs from the Arabian horse
but also in the North African. One can also
distinguish the Arabs response to them.
Examples, in other words, seven eighths parts
of the old Palestine Arab states,
especially Syria and Jordan. This is part
of public health magazine founded by Arabs
and Jews in Jerusalem on the current medicine.
When the developer is one of a few Arab speakers.
Also, Arab sailors returned with shiploads
of handicrafts from India. Depositing black blobs
of Arabia to see the fair. Being retained
by the former siege of the enemy,
the army of the tribe of the Arabs
and the Turks once the Express and of the Arabian
who is a robber that the cities of Bangladesh should be increased.
The main markets are Germany, Austria,
Italy, France, the US and Arab countries.
But the man who is on the continent of Africa,
and from the left wing, the - which is neither a,
nor on the south, and of the vale
and of various matters, and to the north.
Alexandria, returned to explore
the ambassador's fourth dimensional
Arab tarboosh red dress. This is not true
to say that all these Arab friends
are used to curtail the sake of brevity.
High mounts in Iraq, the Arab is legendary,
and culture for Frankfurt literature,
by the way. Whilst the authority tries
to "understand what is Arabesque.
One day in the Arab unity, Arabs
negatively affected them. Cælator Germans,
Slavs Roman Arabia and others.
Since Orientalist changed the ways
of the people of Islam is the Arab Middle
East. But in the venerable United States
and in other Middle East it's the other
way around. nearly 300,000 of their North
Africans in the heat of the day,
for example through the cake orders
of the free French.
If the latter does not, having ascertained
this in the Arabian, that thou goest to take them,
for example, into the Palestinians,
just as for others to the Arabs it is not
in the Hebrew, although the greater part
of the Muslim, many of the Christians
are. the Assyrians in the the region
long before the British, the Ottomans,
Arabs and Kurds. 1 am in the midst
of the share was aware that the arguments
of Western European nations and the Arabs
in the Middle East. is equally exporting
sand to the Arabs - or whether to sell
to the Scots for haggis. 711 dramatically
to the invasion of Europe by the stalks
separated from the rest of the island,
some of them spoke to the Eagle
and the Arabians and show thyself
to the Berbers, however then the fate
of the preparations for, and the gates,
and of inflicting. Heretofore not only to the emperor,
who had come from the immortal gods is in you,
and it is also by the complexity of the general
and of the use of which is in the Ministry
of the Civil War in North Africa,
the Arabic and toughness of the hide
and of the skin and they that dwell in Arabia,
its vigor forever far away and the Arab
thoroughbreds of Miss Arab World -
Arabic lack the Arab miss beauty contest
in the Arab world. In this contest asks the person
to choose the best girl in the Arab region
on the basis of traditional Arab customs
and traditions. Arab World - Arab state and national public
contest physical bulk of the fighting in the Arab world,
the Arab chosen fair competition. There is a competition
to choose the best girl in the Arab region
according to Arab tradition. Eastern birds,
but refused to defend his plans.
Thousands of horses in Mexico
and Mexican cities and the Fellowship
of Indian vice chairman
for photos of a gardener and into a taxi
and at last the candy is in the Sinai,
and together with him the pillars
of water or music in the Forum of the Medusa,
especially young people, both young
and Aristotle had fallen back in the garden
of Four smokers. In short, the report shows
that there were a hundred to exercise care
to protect yourself from harmful computers.
::: Saudi Arabia, Canada, at the end of the age
of gold. There is a real story to tell
and South Zarka, Latvia, Barbados
and Bulimia in Kenya, the world's gold
and blue world, the ship began 10 years ago.
Newspapers and magazines. American
Vertebrata is "bad". Igor is always crafty.
And all because
of the flesh. . . Cats and oceans, seas from
Ireland and drinking game databases
of the US and Saudis Mannequins.
Titleholders
Year Country Miss Arab World
2006 Iraq Klodia Hanna
2007 Bahrain Wafa Yacoub
2009 Saudi Arabia Mawadda Nour
2008 Not Held
2010 Tunisia Rim El Tounsi
2011 Not Held
2012 Syria Nadine Fahad
2013 Egypt Maryam Morgan
2014 Morocco Chorouk Chelouati
2015 Tunisia Yasmine Dakoum
2016 Morocco Nisreen Nubair
2017 Tunisia Suheir Al Ghadab
2018 Morocco Sherine Hosni
Countries
Country Titles Year(s)
Morocco 3 2014, 2016, 2018
Tunisia 2010, 2015, 2017
Iraq 1 2006
Syria 2012
Egypt 2013
Bahrain 2007
Saudi Arabia 2009
Johnny Noiπ Nov 2018
Since music is part of the headwear, most of the colors
of death in the air is about two amino acids, but it is
Latin to place stars on other flags, golden gold from America.
Changes for the musicians in the sunshine,
you are on your way. The wind zone of The queen of the sea
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The beauty of the British English-Asian team lost his wife,
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in Russia If you are a friend from the hand of food, garden;
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full of hope and Rs. A book about worrying, but the old word is true,
for example, to the image of Russia with the power
of the eagle under the stars. Igor is very tense.
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and tongue are salty, *****, crazy, cool in the mirror
and work like an external wall stone. Find what
we did not find. The purpose of the gods you have
to say in the name of the image is to take half
the leaves by your feet to drink wine, to be ***, up,
and mother and like smoke to the feet in socks,
as you do of water, jellyfish materials at the Museum
of Asian Lands; bad news, my Perkins, Einstein's tree
and school board pictures of Einstein's users who
have been asked to sleep in the middle of the sun,
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to all the host of many who have met the general.
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and other brands of fire, the head of gold from America.
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in the morning hours. I left the cold war. The beauty
of the young Greek English-Asian team had lost his wife,
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blue spirit of the July Goddess woman to return from Jesus' evil
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of dreams called ****, French in questions full of high games
for babies, children and an overheated
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for mouths and tongues to twist, feels *****, crazy,
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who follows lost the wife of John and sits in the heart of the Sky
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and a very thin plate. Since it is part of the running rings,
the majority of dead memories of death in the air
are two amino acids, but the stars and other artifacts
are the Latin American golden gold.
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English, French, English, French, English, French, English,
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the arms of the preparation of the grace we receive,
but not to create the council of holy happiness,
in fact, the least sign for women's leaders.

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who met the shogun. Is the dog on the ground?
We took the weapon for the preparation
of grace we received and dropped it to that side ||
but alas, it was not able to recreate the Council of Sacred Happiness.
AngelAutumn4 Mar 15
I’ve seen the place where women drive low
The spirits of good men and play the victim. I’ve seen unconquerable hearts fall under the siege of great Helen and question their own self-worth. Likewise I have seen Alexander spread his influence too far and ruin what could have been the world’s greatest empire, until he is forced to burn his own cities to the ground rather than concede defeat. It is easy to lose your way and view the world by this great struggle, but don’t. I can tell you that even as a bystander to that line of thinking, I’ve been caught in it’s grasp on both ends. It’s a poison, a lie created by vulnerable hearts so they can play the victim like it’s something to be proud of. Instead, remember that there are good people in this world who are completely separate from that struggle, and you could be too.
Johnny Noiπ Nov 2018
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