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C S Dec 2013
I know you.

Sitting behind a screen in your room,
Sipping in the shadows of a coffee shop.
iPhone, iPad, iAm "Anonymous".

The most dangerous word you can be labeled,
The most double-edged of weapons-
Anonymous.

You're never really as untraceable
As the cleared browser history says you are,
Never as untraceable as the chain of destruction you cause is traceable.

You're never really as invisible
As the checked box lets you think you are,
Never as invisible as the scars you direct a hand to make are visible.

One word can't be all that.
Anonymous can't be so dangerous.
Some clicks on a keyboard can't be so devastating.

There's a reason it used to be difficult to avoid responsibility.
Because responsibility for your words, for what you cause,
Is what allows you to see a few steps ahead.

Your signature is what allows you to learn from mistakes,
To vow after you've learned the hard way to think before you act.
To see that those words have two names attached to them now.

The writer, and the subject.
Two traceable, visible people.
Two hearts beating and breathing, now connected.

Anonymous constructs a wall between action and reaction.
It robs you of responsibility.
Yes, responsibility is a prized possession, there to teach and show.

Anonymous allows you to settle.
It robs you of the greater person you could become.
Yes, your future holds more than this, there beyond the wall of cyber bulling.

I hate that I was once Anonymous like you.
I hate that I unknowingly controlled the strings
Of a self-destructive marionette hand miles away.

But I don't hate you. Because I know you.
I know you are more than the mistakes you've made behind that screen.
I know you are more than Anonymous.

So prove it.
her Nov 2015
I want you, but I'm okay with your essence
Basking in your scent long after your presence
The pursuit of my happiness
Seems to wrapped up in your arms
Yet I'm wrapped up
And you seem to be gone
Our fate is as good as whitewashed
Unwritten history in the making
Sanitized love
I give and you're taking
I should never be ok with half
When whole is available
I was ok with your essence
Until it became untraceable
zero Nov 2017
Ashen doves float within the waves,
slinking like silent demons in the night.
They curl around my body,
jaws operating like steel machines,
gnashing at my limbs.
I begin to scream for help,
but they ****** my breath,
they drag me under their tides of black,
unleashing my unremitting fear of water predators.
their teeth, sunken into my flesh,
gnawing at my mind,
painting me my new mortality.

These are my demons,
the sharks in the bath when it comes to hygiene.
the fear of the below and the depths of human mentality,
the untraceable percentage of human worthlessness,
the detestable attraction to the demise of our minds,

I float lower into the aqua,
pressure building,
unforgiving and foreboding
I close my lids, and dream of the sand,
praying it to be underfoot when I open my eyes,
but when my lids open, the doves loom closer.

The irony of a hydrophobe,
dying at the hands of the sharks.
The fear of the ocean is the greatest fear I know.
-Z.xo
Ebony Jun 2014
The Beast, it lies,
The Beast, it cheats,
It gnaws and gnashes at your knees and feet,
Its teeth are long,
Its teeth, they scar,
No person is left unmarked
It size, unmeasurable
Its weight, unweighed
Its whereabouts, untraceable
Its name, unnamed,
But the Beast wears a familiar mask you see
A mask so familiar, so familiar indeed,
This unmeasurable, untraceable, unnamable beast,
Who gnaws and gnashes at your knees and feet
It roams by night, by day it hides
The fearsome beast who lives inside.
Onoma Oct 2015
Out of nowhere,
a dead stare places
being.
Seeing through
oneself...eyes emit
light like spider silk.
Arching through
a blackhole, untraceable
to that very being.
Hal Loyd Denton May 2013
They tell and show us about space debris this matter that freely floats in the vastness of space
There is a comparison to the inward being many emotional breezes come unannounced they
Live in these treasured sightings the wind undulating across the prairie grass it first is caught by
The eye then it is drawn down deep into the soul how much bigger and newer life it gets when
The great magnate of all life receives it invests in it truth value the outward being can never
Know take the common fire from a campfire the mystery rises from the crackle and the leaping
Flames no longer is it just chatter but it is soul talk produced in depths of wonder that emerge
At the surface level bestowing gold from common folds of life or the majestic views of
Mountain grandeur Vaulted sky
Shaded canyon breathtaking heights does the angry wind speak if so in a whisper the granite peaks austere and bleak seem to frown on the trees and lowly grass lands with their fertility and ease of growth. While he the monarch bristling with his cold barren armor of granite invites the stares the awe inspired gratitude of nature and mortal man he knows there dreams and thoughts how many have stood at the edge of wonder on his brow with fainted hearts. Their thoughts drift out and away ever upward reaching the clouds filled and clothed with mountain air brightly they are displayed in these untamable rays. Voices of the ancient ones still echo their wisdom still resounds in the summer thunder they visited and released many a tortured soul. Before Blind they stood before the closed door of their minds knowing there is a path but where can it be found. Riches unbound await the searcher who will go to any and all lengths to conquer unbelief freedom his guiding star he walks in great shadows. Mountainous men Jefferson Lincoln his stalwart companions stand with grandest stature takes from the mountain those teachings not found in musty universities. Thoughts born on creations morn formed and laid on this rocky foundation now for centuries they have bore the weight this colossus purified they are words more noble than gold. Share them invest them in the borderless world of human kind that circle the globe. Moses was familiar and consorted with mountains the angel made one his sepulcher. Waste not the golden hours they are the thread that sows life’s most exquisite moments together making a life. Turn aside seek the heights they will give you respect and honor words will flow that are uncommon they will fit any and all circumstances filling the empty void where hearts bleed without ceasing. Your voice will be like the cool mountain breeze soothing filled with substance and comfort
Is it molecular it is and so much more they tell us of the drive by shootings a wonderful place to
Draw this contrast is Los Angeles called the city of angels but the most beautiful is
Its Spanish interoperation Low hovering angels this loses if we say it but let a Mexican say it his
Inflection most perfect if he is saying it from love. Is there a seriousness here our blessing is not be in That crucible even New York is called the big apple but those in the know call it the volcano with all its Eruptions and pressures so does L A fall into this category in fact if you live on Pico Ave it’s a category Five tornado this is one of the most fought out streets in the turf war for space to sell the Bain to all Society drugs see the flame it consumes the guilty and the innocent view this common occurrence way To common how many small neighborhood chapels were filling with caskets instead of wedding Ceremonies look and listen a Mac Ten pistol grease gun thirty round capacity it has just started its Deadly chatter laying down a withering fire this isn’t battle ground conditions this is a neighborhood Strafing a car the widow’s blow out the shooter keeps the fire steady it starts plinking metal as it moves
To the front of the car off the car into a white small picked fence wood matching the spray of bullets as It Flies in all directions Chicago revisited instead of the Tommy gun chopper of probation you got a Crazed dope fiend punk without emotions the sight of fourteen year old Maria standing on the sidewalk Never registered or didn’t matter three red dots appeared on her bright blouse across her back the Center spot stopped her heart forever now these precious Spanish eyes closed never to  see her rightful Future instead of one day walking the Church isle in a wedding gown now she would lie in repose in White with the flowers not in a bouquet but neatly fixed in  her hair So robbed of youth and life her Budding life so filled with promise where angels hover yes this is the blackness the soul knows perpetrated by the evil one but
There exists a counter part to this evil the good gifts divinely wrought the walk by how many
Hearts have fallen to love by just the chance encounter of her loveliness just walking by you the
Hair flowing and glowing the face created in the throes of love and romantic overload
Spellbound was the creator what chance do you have a mere mortal we are not in casual
Observation the soul is processing this at deepest of levels magic is taken from theatrical
Surroundings to the open places of the heart and being of living two other places for instance
The sea shore a new vastness that overwhelms with delightful pleasure and promise

SeaThoughts

Oh stand thy great waters contained in thee is mirth and terror some you have beguiled and then
Have taken them to your depths of destruction but by your benevolence the sea breeze blows
Inland from this moisture rain is called from its dwelling place the earth is refreshed the tides
Have cosmic ties by gravity the lone solitary moon is entreated and responds one speaks if only
There was a love potion that I could give my beloved so she would respond to me favorably it
Can never be created it already exists go out into the mysterious night stand under a great tree its
Dark silhouette will be more bewitching than the days shade speak your heart as you do take her
Hand and stroll out into the moon beams that drew magic from the great waters as it passed over
Does not wonder advance in this light softer exquisite the hardness of life bows and retreats to
Wait the daylight hours where harshness has its intrepid way so it leaves you with the volumes’
Darkness of night every person desires excursions into intrigue shadows will touch your faces
As tender as the willow then the soft glare of the moons love the mind and heart as its signature
Equation that old crazy moon has moves that are centuries old that birth love every time romance
And her broadest throne follow and are attended by moon light to develop a relationship
Correctly don’t go to the artificial neon lights that are futile and tinged with wickedness but
Sea side strolls are the ultimate inducement a pure stimulus that thwarts the too often knotted
World that keeps everyone at odds with one another everyone knows a great deal of love and
Romance when they are younger to revisit those cherished memorable times that started your
Life of promise with your beloved is invaluable mature love needs to feel the saturation of sea
Breezes the moons ghostly sights will fill in deep shadows where hurts have collected they need
To be free so they can go back to the darkness that gave them life your lives shouldn’t be defined
by them But the deep calleth to the deep set sail for Trafalgar not to war with enemy ships but to
sign With tender’s hand a peace accord to stitch the soft fabric of love that life’s mean elements
can rend in this you will find the sea’s glory and the moons positive glow has become a true part
of your life it is time the spring of renewal is in the offing and it sways to love’s song this speaks
Of man and women’s love this speaks of God’s love they saw the works of the LORD, his wonderful deeds in the deep

Where God passes
The edge of forever where raw power is displayed
Walk the seascapes enter the story told in timelessness except for outer space it is the only place where man finds his mind freed so steep is the unending awe that without question he finally is able to present his self as the tiny speck lost is all ego all self importance he is open to the quest for ultimate truth. You perfect you’re thinking at the sea shore it is a storehouse that lends itself to grand thoughts no limitations hamper your endeavors aliveness engulfs you totally. Subdued moods excavate every shallow you start a down ward decent the deep cries out to your soul the part that never can be accessed on shore. The ground a foundation for raising up temporal structures your needs are served in waters that open as a mysterious gate the deeper the fathoms the more understanding is released. To abide in calm surface features of the sea what a waste take off the restraints become a voyager drift with churning twisting pressures they will give great reward for accosting your accustomed staid and uneventful living. Go deeper the mundane the so called important will be forced through your very pores as you continue calling the unknown manifest itself with great scrolls hidden beyond reach to those that plod along the sunny quiet banks. Life test all men you can face them unafraid armed with years not minutes of preparedness found alone in the struggle only found at sea. Pondered Plumbed in inexorable conditions that stretches changes a person’s character his stature tempered fired as steel in the caldron. We need leaders vibrant thinkers people who can and will accost hell in the very near future and come away victorious. They will have found their way through the untold deadly entanglements figuratively and real they’re not accustomed to ease and know perils at close quarters they learned them in great waters not in pools that have not the ability to stir you to your core you’re going to pour out your life in one form or another do it with sand and grit leave a scarred an effectual trail for others to follow not the light untraceable light footsteps of one who has never lived this just barely scratches the surface of the breezeless that tug and press the center and being of us all I wrote this to be another of the blessings that touch your soul

If there are any mistakes I will have to fix them in a bit I can only work at the computer for so long and I want to get this out
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2012
This writing might be a little twisted it’s just where I am I’m in a Nott in my soul and in my physical body
Knees that feel like the little bones are breaking then the other night I did the big no no I worked until
Four in the morning I got up before it was just my toes that had that numb feeling like stone
Well now the whole feet are in this shape so Neoprathy goes wild but the piece was important and so is
This one I was doing a job in California the rescission threw me out to do work of any kind it was like we
Followed the people that did bad jobs basically ripping people off but as I went up to the house this
Elderly lady came around the side of the house she had this tape and gauze around her neck what she
Said next had me riveted she was quiet but trembled when she said they surgically cut my throat and
Tomorrow they have to cut the other side she was so frail and truly had fear with torment I just
Blundered up on this horror that was controlling her life friend we all are going to face this one day I’m
Disturbed by the report of Sharon Osborne having to have a double mastectomy that she had done as a
Safe guard from getting breast cancer because she has the gene that causes breast cancer fear I know
She has a great family a support system that is stellar but in private moments the fear strikes deep I
wrote a piece on breast cancer I’m going to add it on to this piece I guess I’m rattled and I’m trying in my
Flaying way to set up a safe guard against this kind of terror I ran this gambit with my cousin and brother
In -law my cousin I would consider a pretty tough customer twenty two years he was the sheriff of a
Small town but you have to run back in his life as a teenager he said this after being raised in a Christian
Home as soon as I get eighteen I’m out of here he kept his word for some thirty years he never came
Around the church he lived it up smoked like a fiend had to have open heart surgery the black picture
Of his life he took the brush out of the saviors hand now he lived the good life decent upright but he did
Those things that brought trouble on top of trouble the next thing wasn’t his fault but a guy trying to run
From one town to this town without brakes and get them fixed there he ran into my cousin’s police
Cruiser rear ended him ultimately from injuries sustained he had to give up his job he had multiple
Operations that done nothing to relieve the pain he faced what the lady did in California they had to cut
His neck open in the back clear across to do a procedure in the midst of all of this he was struck with
Leukemia he stood in church and said he was scared they did the cell implant from his brother but he
Came to a prayer meeting not a church night and he made his way to an old fashioned altar broke
Through to God he found the fountain that ever sustains and gives life the following church night he
Stood up and said I am not afraid anymore and I have had severe pain for seven years and had to take
Powerful pain killers tonight I am pain free at the altar all of those years of mistakes were cleaned and
His feet were now centered on the paths that lead to glory all seemed to being going well he was just
In the hospital for routine help then they entered the room and said were sorry you are filled with
infection there is nothing we can do God called him home he died three days later but he found the
only answer for fear and torment someone needs this

Kylie
A song bird with a broken wing the cancer like the archer’s arrow pierced the breast the spirit widens
Under storm laden skies from inward hush and silence an opening umbrella of prayer provides a shield
The buffeted retreats to sheltering rocks and finds the hidden stream within depths blessed bindings
In warmest recesses your steps guided by the unseen over and through this dark passing new findings
With down cast eyes you continue the dark streets the home of the sick and the broken pain unspoken
You came upon these deep downward steeps from the flood lights and euphoric accolades of fame
Before your lyrical melodies were joyful expressive now will carry weighty and knowing sterling acclaim
Mined from troubles hard unrelenting walls finally the richest golden ore through your feelings pour
A little ease by the mystical dreams when sleep restores still withdrawn faces in the moonlight so pale
For a time at heaven you rail to costly you barter all that is thine to own backed by a great pink brigade
You fight with unstoppable courage you lead the march you find ground unvisited you go on without fail
Beaconing to legions behind encouraging you carry the burning torch showing the way through the dark
This my only desire I stand in this human body frail knowing my limitations but from the fight I call you
Don’t be afraid and never say give up to many are depending your touch glorious women you defend
Say in song the mystery you found in a city all alone you met sisters not age defined all filled with youth
In your face I see the unexplainable the untraceable a strength born from conflict a secret knowing
This is dedicated to Kylie Minouge Melissa Eatheridge and all breast cancer survivors
Hal Loyd Denton Dec 2012
Not for every one heavy religious thoughts expressed

This is my declaration of war know it or not we are in a battle life is a battle and when you are the one
Getting stomped on you are in distress and hard pressed to make clear decisions by divine entreaty
We are called onto love one another and that means coming along side and bearing your burden and
Fighting with and for you your life is of many different situations I see mine as a battle field medic and
One who reports on the fighting I am like my friend in the service who came back from Nam before he
Was a medic but the Cong fixed that now he fought fires along side with the the rest of us but we were in the
Bathroom cleaning up after a fire he had his shirt off and when you were in his prescence his nature
Was more than just fragile he was damaged in a life altering sense now I understood as I looked at
Several bullet holes wounds on his chest and back that had to be fixed by skin grafts it mapped his love
Of country and when boys his age lie wounded and dying they holler medic and then before dying they
Gently weep calling on their precious mother far away that always is mending their hurts but this time
Jesus and His angels rush in to stand by and guard with their love and by lifting up this tired and finished
Warrior wrapped in old glories beautiful red white and blue taking him where a flag that stands in the
Center of glory land it emblem is a lamb slain on a cross blooded and wounded from his love of his lost
Children tears from here to heaven float in the great blackness of our universe perpetually it goes along
With this Quote from Keats they never end either his lines says “A thing of beauty is a joy forever its
Loveliness increases it will never pass into nothingness” another is two hearts beat as one if you think
I’m insincere my tears just fell writing these lines causing hurt again for my wife that must listen but I
Rush to your bleeding wounded hearts on a spiritual battle field my bandages are tear soaked to wrap
Your wounds as you have cried help medic I cry Jesus in this scene depicts from Daniel Gabriel had come
To Daniel’s battle field after Daniel had prayed and fasted twenty one days this is a familiar your story to
Most but his is what I want to share it says I heard a man’s voice from the Ulai river calling Gabriel tell
This man the meaning of the vision and it goes on to say this was an angel of higher rank come to assist
This is another item in my medical bag to help the unknown comes into view in the army there is a chain
Of command it is true of the army of God as well you lay wounded God flashes your call of need through
The spirit world in your case who is reading this you see me only but as the prophet of old faced an army
Of men he feared nothing as he looked on the mighty host of heaven arrayed and fully armed for battle
He was the only one that stood between the deaths of these enemies who as you and I only see the
Immediate through writing beautiful words and revealing unseen powers I’m going to give you the
Power to not be afraid not just words but heavenly beings as your vanguard from your knees alone the
Enemy will be put to flight this still comes from looking down a familiar street and in my mind’s eye
Seeing your pain and suffering at that moment I was alone in the dark car but worse I felt helpless
And alone the thing I did right through great tears and pain I cried and asked God to help me to help
Others this is a first in a series to do that very thing one last thing I offer another angel encounter
This my own at home in California I lost my Job for some reason I had to go to the bank what fun
Money becomes scarce as meat on a skeleton and I go where it is stacked sky high well as I walked
Outside and set on the bench away from everyone and everything a man walked up he looked familiar
In this since his clothes looked the way I felt they had seen better days and the special thing he was
Caring a book just a paperback but it looked like the one I carried I never go out without a book and
Lot of times I carry a bag full of them he was friendly easy to listen to he told me that he lived in
The hills our towns entry sign and letter head from the city depicts hills the highest Mission Peak
As he talked my pressure and wild thoughts settled though we were setting in the sun I felt a comfort
You find setting under a great oak I’m not flipping and I’m not advocating hugging trees but I feel
The angel was said to speak from the river not a stretch everything in this world is controlled by God
First his word alone holds it altogether but beyond that with the extensive reading I have done it
Clearly shows angels are first in charge of your lives and your safety but all living things are under their
Charge and in a minute I’m going to include two pieces that speak of hill and a great Oak well as all
Things do our visit ended and then I knew the person who I had been talking wasn’t a man after all
When he said he stayed in the hills meant a lot more I come to this conclusion because this man
Interested me in my turmoil he pops up and leaves me with a feeling of well being and then the facts
Bare it out we were sitting by this building that sets by itself at a good distance you have small trees that
A rabbit couldn’t hide behind and every direction is open country well I fiddled with my book
For the briniest moment I guess I was thinking about his I look up and he is gone someone comes into
Your life and touches you well one last look would be nice I didn’t run but I briskly walked to the end
Of the building I was already at this end he was nowhere to be found shortly after this I wrote this
Piece about our church and the church yard just up the street the hills flank the length of the city
See if you think his presence lingers and flows on to the page on last thing because of an affliction
I am only allowed twenty minutes at a time on the computer legs and feet problem I spent five hours
The other day no sleep that night so elated all day and my wife made care giver gives me a taste of
Ireland as she screams for me to get off I ran over an hour and a little try to write with the scream of
A banshee behind you this was supposed to be a small piece I never write twelve hundred words I said
That to say can’t check for errors you can have fun finding my mistakes will fix on my next allotted time
You can’t take this to the bank to the bank but I think I suffer from another common malady it’s called
Being hen pecked but it the good kind of hurt here is the church piece then the Oak

Shadow of Eden
In this savage land we call home
There is a pastoral valley that has the richest texture of heaven
This treasured sheep gate beckons tenderly says welcome
These hills and slopes the repository of our hopes
The savior poised in their gentle steeps, for the city weeps
Sweet spirit that fills this natural expanse soft as the breeze
Each tired weary soul you refresh with a quiet hush
We are shown the wisdom of not being in a rush
Unseen pillars tower revealing your mighty power
Written on the pillars at the world side is come unto me
On the church side seek the lost at any cost
The Devil expresses defiance the church makes Heaven her alliance
Wayward souls tormented seeking an oasis dying of thirst
Today we fill these pots of clay and determine to go out of our way
Seeking those that hunger and thirst by this Christ we manifest
To the world the church is ghostly not completely visible
It shimmers as though it isn’t real blindly they feel about
In your life they find solid ground clear of the mist
They finish a terrible journey now they feed from all their needs freed
No longer exhausted from continually milling about
The Sheppard stands holy watch and cast a confidant shadow
In this respite feeding and richly nourished they grow strong
Gladness quietly cascades from spiritual hills of splendor
By angles man sees more than just the coarse and obvious he sees the heart of all living things
That reveals the heart and Genius of the one that made it all a great package that each newborn
Finds he tears a way layer upon layer of wrappings love joy hope possibility of dreams that await
And so much more your I just added this you’re never too old to go back to that place where
Wonder still remembers you its polite to revisit in fact it is required for good health and a
Positive mind where is it now where else would human birth occur except at angel central

Lost Friend
This is just a few lines written to celebrate the generations of one Paso Robles family, and their parallel existence with one of nature’s monarchs that was destroyed in recent storm.
You will always remain in my mind.
I can’t remember when you weren’t watching.
Tall strong, graceful shade the bewitching kind.
Long ago a fellow relative started your stately reign.
This our home place he surveyed.
His eye, the land did fill with awe.
From this bond through a lowly seed he prayed
Bless this spot; many a day has he spoken from the oak.
Grandeur over stretched grandmother’s dwelling.
We could only marvel at thy great strength.
From your great silence serenity you were telling.
Shot and blasted against the sky, fireworks of wood.
Clothed in rough hardened bark
what comfort and wisdom you inspired.
Who understands the wonder, my soul you did mark
your size triggered the greatest gift, curiosity.
Branches the wind passing through what mournful cry
Nature’s tune sublime given to delight as only a sad ballad can evoke
Nothing else should try
To match violins in the sky.
My eyes see it in a grand sweep
The ground brought forth a stately wooden crown
Of blackest oak to stand tall and steep
A gentle giant to greet the wayward wind.
Two divergent seeds the ground did divide.
One of wooden grain the other flesh and blood
their branches throughout the community do abide
as charming as church bells ringing, touching all.
And just one more in case you need it friend if you don’t get it
I have lived through some hell in my live now I think it’s time to return
The favor I’m going to give hell all the heat I can that is white heat of love to the suffering
And oh so awful to him but his fire is going to gage on these pages like the fires I used to
Fight in the service as a servant to my country now I’m your servant and I’m fired up I fought
Bullies all through school now I plan to fight the biggest one for you

Sorry I think you could use some granite in your fight

Vaulted sky
Shaded canyon breathtaking heights does the angry wind speak if so in a whisper the granite peaks austere and bleak seem to frown on the trees and lowly grass lands with their fertility and ease of growth. While he the monarch bristling with his cold barren armor of granite invites the stares the awe inspired gratitude of nature and mortal man he knows there dreams and thoughts how many have stood at the edge of wonder on his brow with fainted hearts. Their thoughts drift out and away ever upward reaching the clouds filled and clothed with mountain air brightly they are displayed in these untamable rays. Voices of the ancient ones still echo their wisdom still resounds in the summer thunder they visited and released many a tortured soul. Before Blind they stood before the closed door of their minds knowing there is a path but where can it be found. Riches unbound await the searcher who will go to any and all lengths to conquer unbelief freedom his guiding star he walks in great shadows. Mountainous men Jefferson Lincoln his stalwart companions stand with grandest stature takes from the mountain those teachings not found in musty universities. Thoughts born on creations morn formed and laid on this rocky foundation now for centuries they have bore the weight this colossus purified they are words more noble than gold. Share them invest them in the borderless world of human kind that circle the globe. Moses was familiar and consorted with mountains the angel made one his sepulcher. Waste not the golden hours they are the thread that sows life’s most exquisite moments together making a life. Turn aside seek the heights they will give you respect and honor words will flow that are uncommon they will fit any and all circumstances filling the empty void where hearts bleed without ceasing. Your voice will be like the cool mountain breeze soothing filled with substance and comfort.

Well three hours must I tell you in the dog house and no feathers left it was worth it for me
I hope for you too

Where God passes
The edge of forever where raw power is displayed
Walk the seascapes enter the story told in timelessness except for outer space it is the only place where man finds his mind freed so steep is the unending awe that without question he finally is able to present his self as the tiny speck lost is all ego all self importance he is open to the quest for ultimate truth. You perfect you’re thinking at the sea shore it is a storehouse that lends itself to grand thoughts no limitations hamper your endeavors aliveness engulfs you totally. Subdued moods excavate every shallow you start a down ward decent the deep cries out to your soul the part that never can be accessed on shore. The ground a foundation for raising up temporal structures your needs are served in waters that open as a mysterious gate the deeper the fathoms the more understanding is released. To abide in calm surface features of the sea what a waste take off the restraints become a voyager drift with churning twisting pressures they will give great reward for accosting your accustomed staid and uneventful living. Go deeper the mundane the so called important will be forced through your very pores as you continue calling the unknown manifest itself with great scrolls hidden beyond reach to those that plod along the sunny quiet banks. Life test all men you can face them unafraid armed with years not minutes of preparedness found alone in the struggle only found at sea. Pondered Plumbed in inexorable conditions that stretches changes a person’s character his stature tempered fired as steel in the caldron. We need leaders vibrant thinkers people who can and will accost hell in the very near future and come away victorious. They will have found their way through the untold deadly entanglements figuratively and real their not accustomed to ease and know perils at close quarters they learned them in great waters not in pools that have not the ability to stir you to your core you’re going to pour out your life in one form or another do it with sand and grit leave a scarred an effectual trail for others to follow not the light untraceable light footsteps of one who has never lived.
Kate Irons Dec 2014
she roamed in the pale moon light
only so no one noticed the physical scars
that bandaged her broken heart
Elizabeth Jun 2018
Your touch is untraceable,
your love is unforgettable.

The traces you left,
the perfectly placed hickey,
a mark of your love.

Your hand no longer perfectly placed,
my hips missing yours,
my lips longing the gentle bite.

The sensation,
one hand on my hip
the other cupped my cheek soothingly,
You found my secret.
Anubhav Rath Mar 2010
I lied by the sea,
far away from the ebb-
uncared, untraceable,
a heap among the mounds.

You came to me first,
And then joined in she,
both squatted by me,
started the play with me.

Never can I forget,
the first caress-
I know not, yours or hers,
but it was like heaven.

Your juvenile dreams,
naive imaginations,
bestowed on my otiose self,
by your seasoned skills.

Grain upon grains,
both made me proud. 
Not conforming to a flaw,
meticulous maven masons.

When your hands tired,
she backed you up. 
While she was ******,
 you tended her to health.

Finally, I stood tall-
an Olympian castle. 
Both were beguiled, 
I would never be happier.  

And, then came the storm,
Satanic vibes infested the air.
I couldn’t fathom what befell,
you were furious, she was crying.

Raised voices, clenched fists,
intimate moments castaway,
I stood a meek witness,
while a relationship was severed.  

Came along the lunar surge,
I was wiped away without a trace.
Both stood distant from the other,
watching me fall, filled with remorse.
Hal Loyd Denton Apr 2012
Warista

Not for everyone heavy religious thoughts expressed

This is my declaration of war know it or not we are in a battle life is a battle and when you are the one
Getting stomped on you are in distress and hard pressed to make clear decisions by divine entreaty
We are called onto love one another and that means coming along side and bearing your burden and
Fighting with and for you your life is of many different situations I see mine as a battle field medic and
One who reports on the fighting I am like my friend in the service who came back from Nam before he
Was a medic but the Cong fixed that now he fought fires along side of the rest of but we were in the
Bathroom cleaning up after a fire he had his shirt off and when you were in his prescience his nature
Was more than just fragile he was damaged in a life altering sense now I understood as I looked at
Several bullet holes wounds on his chest and back that had to be fixed by skin grafts it mapped his love
Of country and when boys his age lie wounded and dying they holler medic and then before dying they
Gently weep calling on their precious mother far away that always mending their hurts but this time
Jesus and His angels rush in to stand by and guard with their love or by lifting up this tired and finished
Warrior wrapped in old glories beautiful red white and blue taking him where a flag that stands in the
Center of glory land it emblem is a lamb slain on a cross blooded and wounded from his love of his lost
Children tears from here to heaven float in the great blackness of our universe perpetually it goes along
With this Quote from Keats they never end either his lines say “A thing of beauty is a joy forever its
Loveliness increases it will never pass into nothingness” another is two hearts beat as one if you think
I’m insincere my tears just fell writing these lines causing hurt again for my wife that must listen but I
Rush to your bleeding wounded hearts on a spiritual battle field my bandages are tear soaked to wrap
Your wounds as you have cried help medic I cry Jesus in this scene depicts from Daniel Gabriel had come
To Daniel’s battle field after Daniel had prayed and fasted twenty one days this is a familiar your story to
Most but his is what I want to share it says I heard a man’s voice from the Ulai river calling Gabriel tell
This man the meaning of the vision and it goes on to say this was an angel of higher rank come to assist
This is another item in my medical bag to help the unknown comes into view in the army there is a chain
Of command it is true of the army of God as well you lay wounded God flashes your call of need through
The spirit world in your case who is reading this you see me only but as the prophet of old faced an army
Of men he feared nothing as he looked on the mighty host of heaven arrayed and fully armed for battle
He was the only one that stood between the deaths of these enemies who as you and I only see the
Immediate through writing beautiful words and revealing unseen powers I’m going to give you the
Power to not be afraid not just words but heavenly beings as your vanguard from your knees alone the
Enemy will be put to flight this still comes from looking down a familiar street and in my mind’s eye
Seeing your pain and suffering at that moment I was alone in the dark car but worse I felt helpless
And alone the thing I did right through great tears and pain I cried and asked God to help me to help
Others this is a first in a series to do that very thing one last thing I offer another angel encounter
This my own at home in California I lost my Job for some reason I had to go to the bank what fun
Money becomes scarce as meat on a skeleton and I go where it is stacked sky high well as I walked
Outside and set on the bench away from everyone and everything a man walked up he looked familiar
In this since his clothes looked the way I felt they had seen better days and the special thing he was
Caring a book just a paperback but it looked like the one I carried I never go out without a book and
Lot of times I carry a bag full of them he was friendly easy to listen to he told me that he lived in
The hills our towns entry sign and letter head from the city depicts hills the highest Mission Peak
As he talked my pressure and wild thoughts settled though we were setting in the sun I felt a comfort
You find setting under a great oak I’m not flipping and I’m not advocating hugging trees but I feel
The angel was said to speak from the river not a stretch everything in this world is controlled by God
First his word alone holds it altogether but beyond that with the extensive reading I have done it
Clearly shows angels are first in charge of your lives and your safety but all living things are under their
Charge and in a minute I’m going to include two pieces that speak of hill and a great Oak well as all
Things do our visit ended and then I knew the person who I had been talking wasn’t a man after all
When he said he stayed in the hills meant a lot more I come to this conclusion because this man
Interested me in my turmoil he pops up and leaves me with a feeling of well being and then the facts
Bare it out we were sitting by this building that sets by itself at a good distance you have small trees that
A rabbit couldn’t hide behind and every direction is open country well I fiddled with my book
For the briniest moment I guess I was thinking about his I look up and he is gone someone comes into
Your life and touches you well one last look would be nice I didn’t run but I briskly walked to the end
Of the building I was already at this end he was nowhere to be found shortly after this I wrote this
Piece about our church and the church yard just up the street the hills flank the length of the city
See if you think his presence lingers and flows on to the page on last thing because of an affliction
I am only allowed twenty minutes at a time on the computer legs and feet problem I spent five hours
The other day no sleep that night so elated all day and my wife made care giver gives me a taste of
Ireland as she screams for me to get off I ran over an hour and a little try to write with the scream of
A banshee behind you this was supposed to be a small piece I never write twelve hundred words I said
That to say can’t check for errors you can have fun finding my mistakes will fix on my next allotted time
You can’t take this to the bank to the bank but I think I suffer from another common malady it’s called
Being hen pecked but it the good kind of hurt here is the church piece then the Oak

Shadow of Eden
In this savage land we call home
There is a pastoral valley that has the richest texture of heaven
This treasured sheep gate beckons tenderly says welcome
These hills and slopes the repository of our hopes
The savior poised in their gentle steeps, for the city weeps
Sweet spirit that fills this natural expanse soft as the breeze
Each tired weary soul you refresh with a quiet hush
We are shown the wisdom of not being in a rush
Unseen pillars tower revealing your mighty power
Written on the pillars at the world side is come unto me
On the church side seek the lost at any cost
The Devil expresses defiance the church makes Heaven her alliance
Wayward souls tormented seeking an oasis dying of thirst
Today we fill these pots of clay and determine to go out of our way
Seeking those that hunger and thirst by this Christ we manifest
To the world the church is ghostly not completely visible
It shimmers as though it isn’t real blindly they feel about
In your life they find solid ground clear of the mist
They finish a terrible journey now they feed from all their needs freed
No longer exhausted from continually milling about
The Sheppard stands holy watch and cast a confidant shadow
In this respite feeding and richly nourished they grow strong
Gladness quietly cascades from spiritual hills of splendor
By angles man sees more than just the coarse and obvious he sees the heart of all living things
That reveals the heart and Genius of the one that made it all a great package that each newborn
Finds he tears a way layer upon layer of wrappings love joy hope possibility of dreams that await
And so much more your I just added this you’re never too old to go back to that place where
Wonder still remembers you its polite to revisit in fact it is required for good health and a
Positive mind where is it now where else would human birth occur except at angel central

Lost Friend
This is just a few lines written to celebrate the generations of one Paso Robles family, and their parallel existence with one of nature’s monarchs that was destroyed in recent storm.
You will always remain in my mind.
I can’t remember when you weren’t watching.
Tall strong, graceful shade the bewitching kind.
Long ago a fellow relative started your stately reign.
This our home place he surveyed.
His eye, the land did fill with awe.
From this bond through a lowly seed he prayed
Bless this spot; many a day has he spoken from the oak.
Grandeur over stretched grandmother’s dwelling.
We could only marvel at thy great strength.
From your great silence serenity you were telling.
Shot and blasted against the sky, fireworks of wood.
Clothed in rough hardened bark
what comfort and wisdom you inspired.
Who understands the wonder, my soul you did mark
your size triggered the greatest gift, curiosity.
Branches the wind passing through what mournful cry
Nature’s tune sublime given to delight as only a sad ballad can evoke
Nothing else should try
To match violins in the sky.
My eyes see it in a grand sweep
The ground brought forth a stately wooden crown
Of blackest oak to stand tall and steep
A gentle giant to greet the wayward wind.
Two divergent seeds the ground did divide.
One of wooden grain the other flesh and blood
their branches throughout the community do abide
as charming as church bells ringing, touching all.
And just one more in case you need it friend if you don’t get it
I have lived through some hell in my live now I think it’s time to return
The favor I’m going to give hell all the heat I can that is white heat of love to the suffering
And oh so awful to him but his fire is going to gage on these pages like the fires I used to
Fight in the service as a servant to my country now I’m your servant and I’m fired up I fought
Bullies all through school now I plan to fight the biggest one for you

Sorry I think you could use some granite in your fight

Vaulted sky
Shaded canyon breathtaking heights does the angry wind speak if so in a whisper the granite peaks austere and bleak seem to frown on the trees and lowly grass lands with their fertility and ease of growth. While he the monarch bristling with his cold barren armor of granite invites the stares the awe inspired gratitude of nature and mortal man he knows there dreams and thoughts how many have stood at the edge of wonder on his brow with fainted hearts. Their thoughts drift out and away ever upward reaching the clouds filled and clothed with mountain air brightly they are displayed in these untamable rays. Voices of the ancient ones still echo their wisdom still resounds in the summer thunder they visited and released many a tortured soul. Before Blind they stood before the closed door of their minds knowing there is a path but where can it be found. Riches unbound await the searcher who will go to any and all lengths to conquer unbelief freedom his guiding star he walks in great shadows. Mountainous men Jefferson Lincoln his stalwart companions stand with grandest stature takes from the mountain those teachings not found in musty universities. Thoughts born on creations morn formed and laid on this rocky foundation now for centuries they have bore the weight this colossus purified they are words more noble than gold. Share them invest them in the borderless world of human kind that circle the globe. Moses was familiar and consorted with mountains the angel made one his sepulcher. Waste not the golden hours they are the thread that sows life’s most exquisite moments together making a life. Turn aside seek the heights they will give you respect and honor words will flow that are uncommon they will fit any and all circumstances filling the empty void where hearts bleed without ceasing. Your voice will be like the cool mountain breeze soothing filled with substance and comfort.

Well three hours must I tell you in the dog house and no feathers left it was worth it for me
I hope for you too

Where God passes
The edge of forever where raw power is displayed
Walk the seascapes enter the story told in timelessness except for outer space it is the only place where man finds his mind freed so steep is the unending awe that without question he finally is able to present his self as the tiny speck lost is all ego all self importance he is open to the quest for ultimate truth. You perfect you’re thinking at the sea shore it is a storehouse that lends itself to grand thoughts no limitations hamper your endeavors aliveness engulfs you totally. Subdued moods excavate every shallow you start a down ward decent the deep cries out to your soul the part that never can be accessed on shore. The ground a foundation for raising up temporal structures your needs are served in waters that open as a mysterious gate the deeper the fathoms the more understanding is released. To abide in calm surface features of the sea what a waste take off the restraints become a voyager drift with churning twisting pressures they will give great reward for accosting your accustomed staid and uneventful living. Go deeper the mundane the so called important will be forced through your very pores as you continue calling the unknown manifest itself with great scrolls hidden beyond reach to those that plod along the sunny quiet banks. Life test all men you can face them unafraid armed with years not minutes of preparedness found alone in the struggle only found at sea. Pondered Plumbed in inexorable conditions that stretches changes a person’s character his stature tempered fired as steel in the caldron. We need leaders vibrant thinkers people who can and will accost hell in the very near future and come away victorious. They will have found their way through the untold deadly entanglements figuratively and real their not accustomed to ease and know perils at close quarters they learned them in great waters not in pools that have not the ability to stir you to your core you’re going to pour out your life in one form or another do it with sand and grit leave a scarred an effectual trail for others to follow not the light untraceable light footsteps of one who has never lived.
Sean Fitzpatrick Dec 2013
The loneliest librarian is in the
heart of darkness
I saw him, old, bearded
on three sides book cases
on the open side, a desk
he faces outward into the darkness
drawing notes at their best.

Look away! in the distance
an army and her generals gather
Up ahead, a conqueror
metal jangles, saddles horse

Cries the pony boy:
I miss my mother
let me go back
what does this all mean?

Studying now, the librarian,
notes in check, own pen
scratching, no metals
only and only
his mind and an ink-filled well

Spearhead, arrowhead formation
a king and his khanate lean forward
into the permafrost, snow lashing
wind blows against but cannot stop
fierce wild will
and only the willows weep

Cries the pony boy:
Radically, may I be afraid
of the dead, arms asunder
so much love! so much love!
what does this all mean?

And far, far ahead of this army
librarian sits, silently
loving nothing, everything beside him
he scribbles notes
A love letter? tiresome if so
upon closer inspection...

At the center of the dark dark forest
where a lonely man rides in his kayak
lantern fixed upon a frame, making his boat top-heavy
he bobs back and forth across his body of water
he is haunted
he is lonely
he is a skeleton

Now grand general crosses the Styx
Ice clumps brushing gently against his ships
cold enough to **** a horse, set blood aglow
with blue, so cold it could not rot.
To valley forge!
to valley forge
to forge a future.

And pony boy cries:
What does it mean?
my father is gone, gone before this war,
he once said, it must be, be,
Did he mean...

Finally, up ahead, the librarian draws
untraceable lines, he knows the army is at his door
lonely, shaking, only the conqueror made it
and he is almost dead too.
Scared, sacredly, he finally hands the librarian his match
and sobs, softly, under breath
"Time, time is, time without,
time too
starts anew."
will finish later
Kiva Apr 2018
sometimes

I wish that I could get out of here, away from the dead thud of your approach.
You remanifest with a mouth full of flat line, nothing’s changed.

A man with the same nature about him, the same engorged rhetoric toward life
I wished to bury in my garden long before. 

A wound in the backyard, untraceable and
unremarkable.

Not of my heart but of Her Red Sea in which you reside now 
Only as blood. 
Buried along with my naked, along with my softness and my victim.

When all this is over, don’t look at me 
and expect to see the same person.
Gilang Perdana Aug 2017
1
in the beginning was believe
above the fate's monochromatic
on a length of the piano's bar
— : in which colors it will stop?

2
you were more fathom, about
— a poetry-like score
— a syllabic-like tone
likewise — as I am-like me

3
there is a clink that you drag
either from the flat or the sharp
— that's half of my grasp
transformed from the sounds

4
— an untraceable of whom — was
sculpted — aligned on an epitaph
— an untraceable of the sounds
you disguised — with the words

5
how — the shift of chromatic scale
sounds like a ***** of question mark
— is it quite likely its arch was
the origins of an earlobe-shape?
Yanamari Sep 2017
Crack*
The mirror broke.
And such a thing, although inevitable,
Tainted my vision,
And stole my hope.
I lost my smile,
When, what I had was lost.
Irreparable,
Irreplaceable,
Overwhelmingly...
Untraceable.
­
Over time the pain faded
And was replaced anew,
Increasingly constant,
Blindening,
Suffocating.

Crack
Another's mirror broke
And the innocent pain, revived,
Gifted my mind,
With the cracked
Memory of my mirror.
Roberta Day Jul 2012
True colors have been reflected
like glossy panels of deceit;
A palette of mixed aggressive tones
to paint a hue of hate;
****** images depicted,
displaying a forgotten world
of an imagination still sputtering on
A heart scarred for disbelieving the
truth with each stroke;
Empathetic swirls of long repressed
feelings, staccato marks the untraceable
A blend of emotions that leaves my gut
reeling, like pigments of color circling
a water-filled bowl
david badgerow Jan 2014
you were crying at my window at dawn
& your hair was only adding to the flood
i hadn't gotten out of bed
remembering how our souls danced undressed
in lovely weather on the fringes of a fair
you looked like a red bird in the morning sun
i just lay there, stolen by your shining face

i've been a barbarian most of my life
stop me if you've heard this one before
my blind approach to the steep paths of the labyrinth
plunging hard & immediately untraceable
i am a rude ghost ******* to your friends
feigning imagined mystery like the
stage door of a circus tent
that day was beautiful and the sky clear
carrying mute birds with paper messages
but the rain is on it's way

but sometimes, most nights
i am a lamb upon your altar
when i recall how i asked you
where you want to be buried
i said i would search for it
with a hand grenade
& you asked me the name
of the town where i was born

& if i am an animal
i am one of the few that is self-destructive
i will bring the empire thundering down
i have chewed through my beautiful muscle
to get out of that southern state & into your door
with my face against the wet gold leaves
& my nose burned black from the snow & wind
girl diffused Oct 2017
Everything in the home is new
She curls her toes against the wooden grain of the floorboards
Rain pelts against the window pane, her fingers flex
The dog moans somewhere beyond the walls
She feels like a phantom, her feet light on every surface
Untraceable, she finds him reclining on the couch
Curled in on himself, eyes, half-lidded
Heavy with sleep, pearled water on his eyelashes
She kisses his cheek, presses her lips against his wet forehead
His eyelids flutter open, his hands pass over the thick hardcover
A poet's book in his hand, pages dog-eared on 352, he opens it
Drowsily reads a poem, her words that she'd written late at night
Dripping from his lips, not mendacious, but holding a deeper truth in his mouth

-

This is where she would end up, in this soft-white-walled home
Everything is new and bright
The cat, curled up on the windowsill, seemingly peering into a divided world
Separated by the gentle pattering of falling rain
Everything outside is gray and cloudless
The computer is on but its light emitted is muted
She seats herself next to him, folds her legs underneath her
His hand grasps hers gently, turns it over, gleaming on her finger is the ring
The quiet and unselfish promise

*

The quiet and unselfish promise
His hand grasps hers gently, turns it over, gleaming on her finger is the ring
She seats herself next to him, folds her legs underneath her
The computer is on but its light emitted is muted
Everything outside is gray and cloudless
Separated by the gentle pattering of falling rain
The cat, curled up on the windowsill, seemingly peering into a divided world
Everything is new and bright
This is where she would end up, in this soft-white-walled home

-

Dripping from his lips, not mendacious, but holding a deeper truth in his mouth
Drowsily reads a poem, her words that she'd written late at night
A book in his hand, pages dog-eared on 352, he opens it
His eyelids flutter open, his hands pass over the thick hardcover
She kisses his cheek, presses her lips against his wet forehead
Heavy with sleep, pearled water on his eyelashes
Curled in on himself, eyes half-lidded
Untraceable, she finds him reclining on the couch
She feels like a phantom, her feet and fingers light on every surface
The dog moans somewhere beyond the walls
Rain pelts against the windowpane, her fingers flex
She curls her toes against the wooden grain of the floorboards
Everything in the home is new
énouement
n. the bittersweetness of having arrived here in the future, where you can finally get the answers to how things turn out in the real world—who your baby sister would become, what your friends would end up doing, where your choices would lead you, exactly when you’d lose the people you took for granted—which is priceless intel that you instinctively want to share with anybody who hadn’t already made the journey, as if there was some part of you who had volunteered to stay behind, who was still stationed at a forgotten outpost somewhere in the past, still eagerly awaiting news from the front.

About this poem - a girl gazes into her future once, then again, in reverse.
Akemi Feb 2014
Watching smoke curl in the sky
A simmer reflection, a residue of death stealing life
The scent of sweet burning arrives
Between breaths misting predawn light

A womb collects dead children
We hear them shrink and shiver
Their limbs atrophied, their eyes wide

Every kiss is wildfire
Every yearning is weathered
Like the shedding paint on the boards outside
That needed a touchup, a lifetime ago

Every touch is parched
Every trust is dystopian
The flesh departs from neuronal collections
Untraceable to the heart inside

No daughters, no sons
No lovers, no love
No affection, connection; truth or simple trust
No daughters, no sons
No lovers, no love
No future
No hope
7:30am, January 31st 2014

Pointless ***.
When I look at you
I see Bryant Park flushed with spring
and cluttered, burnished with Christmastime.
I see the way your big hands hold my face, my waist.
I see thick snowflakes
catching in your long lashes.

I see the streaks of light we've trailed
in the places we have been
like the flare of a comet,
footprints in ash and snow.

Six months we have stood,
daring the storm to catch us,
daring the lightning to strike.

You will pretend you did not remember our anniversary
and make me laugh when you say so
because you want me to learn
that you forgetting me is humorous
and ridiculous
and impossible.
I'll wake up the morning after,
panicked because it was five months and not six,
and you will say that it makes no difference
because what does a month matter
when you have forever?

We dance
and I trip and step on your toes
but you just turn on Frank Sinatra
and lead me through while you sing, smiling, in my ear.
And on the days when I curl up like a shell in your arms
shaking with untraceable, messy sobs
you keep singing
your lips unafraid to kiss away the tears.

I think I knew you once,
a thousand years ago,
a billion,
when we were stars in the galaxy
lovers in a white palace
dust in the ground.

And today
we are six months of being in love
six months of pure, unadulterated happiness
six months of dancing,
an eternal song.

Sing me to sleep again,
champion of my heart.
I will dream that we are timeless
and your voice will carry me through
until the dawn.

JFC
The road back to you is full of thorns
every step is a pierce through my skin
soles bleed from the sharp edges of my agony
wounds that time hasn't healed yet
and its pus cry out 'for how long?'

The road back to you is full of thorns
and I am still made of eggshells
crushed each time i roll back in
which is why this road is a road
that i should travel back no more

The road back to you is full of thorns
but it calls me even with memories i no longer welcome
my footsteps can lead to many other roads
but your arrow is a test of how much I've recovered
and so I go...

The road back to you is full of thorns*
but i know one day the thorns will hurt me no more
and your familiar signs could lure me no more..
with my new compass, thanks but, No thanks!

No longer barefoot, no longer on foot
[Recalculating... Turn right]
a road that my GPS system won't even recognize
because the road back to you is full of thorns

Abandoned, Uninhabited, Untraceable

In fact, it's a road no More...
Hal Loyd Denton Dec 2011
Kylie

A song bird with a broken wing the cancer like the archer’s arrow pierced the breast the spirit widens
Under storm laden skies from inward hush and silence an opening umbrella of prayer provides a shield
The buffeted retreats to sheltering rocks and finds the hidden stream within depths blessed bindings
In warmest recesses your steps guided by the unseen over and through this dark passing new findings

With down cast eyes you continue the dark streets the home of the sick and the broken pain unspoken
You came upon these deep downward steeps from the flood lights and euphoric accolades of fame
Before your lyrical melodies were joyful expressive now will carry weighty and knowing sterling acclaim
Mined from troubles hard unrelenting walls finally the richest golden ore through your feelings pour

A little ease by the mystical dreams when sleep restores still withdrawn faces in the moonlight so pale
For a time at heaven you rail to costly you barter all that is thine to own backed by a great pink brigade
You fight with unstoppable courage you lead the march you find ground unvisited you go on without fail
Beaconing to legions behind encouraging you carry the burning torch showing the way through the dark

This my only desire I stand in this human body frail knowing my limitations but from the fight I call you
Don’t be afraid and never say give up to many are depending your touch glorious women you defend
Say in song the mystery you found in a city all alone you met sisters not age defined all filled with youth
In your face I see the unexplainable the untraceable a strength born from conflict a secret knowing
This is dedicated to Kylie Minouge Melissa Eatheridge and all breast cancer survivors
Path Humble Nov 2014
a series of random questions
all asking,
some ending in,
a few beginners,
where from...

from where,
do the haters come from?

the pleasure of mass ******,
in what gene,
from what cell, possessed,
that you seek it as a life's rationale,
so easy?


from where,
derived
the notion that you,
politician professional
behind closed doors,
bend over to the private interest
your public pretense,
couched lies,
the idea mocking me,
you know what's better
fraud,

from where,

did this despotic greed arise?

from where,
this endless depression,
a session with no end,
don't recall the beginning,
whence the end,
where the end,
freedom from it,
climb out from Joseph's pit,
the exit come
from?

from where,

does inspiration come from?

from
intimacy with the inanimate,
the population of objects,
coarse, beauteous that provoke,
the museums, the gutter, the worn,
the just unrealized, imagined,
from
learning to speak hearts
to speak the heart language

from
from animated blood, eyes, taste buds,
when you pass thru the molecules of me,
by contact real or imagined,
desperation, satisfaction organic,

from where,
from where do these questions arise,
the answers as well,
they are tangible, yet intangible,
even

from,
a notion indistinct,
an untraceable path,
hidden routers,
deflecting reflecting,
even a current direct,
invisible to the naked

from where?

a fair question,
answers, unreliable,
for in the forming,
froming is always
transfigured,
distorted

so let's agree,
the
mother, mater, matters not,
of from,
unsolvable, soluble,
the origin, source,
the river-head is a wasted search

only the acts of yours,
even/or the poems,
all realized ~
undeniable

from you, your hand

that is the only answer to
a question,

from where,

wherein from
comes both,
the contained,
and the
uncontained.
M Seifert M Mar 2013
you are a fractal

in a sea of branches
you are the air between

the dust that spirals in the sun streams


the decimal point in the equation

the dividing line between oblivion and infinity

you are a loose end
fraying
made of left over dry skin








you are the chemical

you poison my drinking water

you are

the secret ingredient
the last place they'd ever look

you are

the dark matter
the imaginary number I can't wrap my head around

you cure my melancholy






we are

alveoli

we breathe fire

seen through telescopes
we believe we are alone

we'll believe anything they tell us




they won't love you
they can't see you

you are too much
they'd never understand


you don't give
what you don't receive

you give life
as you breathe through me



I see you when my eyes close
I trace your shape on frosted windows





you spark the fire that hijacks my biology



you draw upon my skin with ***** fingernails

your handwriting is embedded in my DNA




your name echoes still
unfamiliar voices without faces


your secret's safe with me



hidden in massive outer space places
untraceable
mastermind configuration
takes ages just to give up out of frustration
Hal Loyd Denton Oct 2012
A song bird with a broken wing the cancer like the archer’s arrow pierced the breast the spirit widens
Under storm laden skies from inward hush and silence an opening umbrella of prayer provides a shield
The buffeted retreats to sheltering rocks and finds the hidden stream within depths blessed bindings
In warmest recesses your steps guided by the unseen over and through this dark passing new findings

With down cast eyes you continue the dark streets the home of the sick and the broken pain unspoken
You came upon these deep downward steeps from the flood lights and euphoric accolades of fame
Before your lyrical melodies were joyful expressive now will carry weighty and knowing sterling acclaim
Mined from troubles hard unrelenting walls finally the richest golden ore through your feelings pour

A little ease by the mystical dreams when sleep restores still withdrawn faces in the moonlight so pale
For a time at heaven you rail to costly you barter all that is thine to own backed by a great pink brigade
You fight with unstoppable courage you lead the march you find ground unvisited you go on without fail
Beaconing to legions behind encouraging you carry the burning torch showing the way through the dark

This my only desire I stand in this human body frail knowing my limitations but from the fight I call you
Don’t be afraid and never say give up to many are depending your touch glorious women you defend
Say in song the mystery you found in a city all alone you met sisters not age defined all filled with youth
In your face I see the unexplainable the untraceable a strength born from conflict a secret knowing
This is dedicated to Kylie Minouge Melissa Eatheridge and all breast cancer survivors
Reina J Morris Jun 2013
Do you know what it means when
you say, "I'll never find someone like you?."
Love is always going to be love in one person.
Love is different colours, different emotions;
Love is a time traveler, but no matter
How many times you find love or love finds you--
There is only One of one person who'll love you.
They're irreplaceable, untraceable, one of a kind.
They are always going to be them--who they are!
They'll have different colours, different emotions.
They're time travelers and no matter
How many times you find them or they find you--
There is only One of them who'll love you.

**Creative Writings - Reina J. Morris
Joseph Martinez May 2016
this love is now & new & once again
stabbing @ me like durga-like diety
with sweet golden daggers
an essential togetherness
teasing out of these odd surroundings
I was listening to Jack Kerouac on the way
home in his mad
bop rhapsody apocalypse
streaming out my speakers
while familiar streets crawl past
once again
I'm thinking
as the day old glum spread over me
& out to envelop all I see
how little different to be watching
seeing street signs all opening
into cul-de-sacs and open storefronts
paraded in the endless traffic flow
now bent slow over
feeding my cat crab cakes
that my mother made
myow myow, he goes
& I acknowledge
myow myow, he goes
& I answer
what?
what in god's name is
the matter with you?
myow myow
his solemn reply
licking @ a piece of
exposed claw meat
nestled among old bits
of dry brown kibble
how about this soul?
how about this life?
this sickness?
how about this always seeking I?
how about he music of my mind
in untraceable car rides alone?
wherefore to I wander
ceaselessly in search of what
wonders where I might be
born on the road of least descent
cat paws, grabs @ bottle caps on
grained wood table
my media
fizzles & searchlights
in my window
there is something I'm not facing
something inescapable, my love
like you
born of locusts in the dust, my love
like you
my weary dune-mother
how solemn are the tunes that run
thy face, o' mother and thy will
how broken are the lines upon thine
shining brow in bedroom windows
open to the world like peace
stolen in the sad glance I gaze @ everything
stolen is the cup I fill @ leaking kitchen
sink pipe strands of scent or bark
of neighbor dogs amusing grass flow
weather flowers under well I'm never
knowing what--I never will
no matter, all is well
another's all is nothing now
where knock goes streaming
crashing loud
like anvils in the rain
it's only me
how now, my dear contender?
like a shadow fallen into sound
how now the planets unwatered?
how now the roots are killed?
we all inhabit the same fears
how rabbit hides his smear
to give me a surprise
for me, none so dear
than the mystery
& April dies today
Danielle Jones Mar 2012
The fine light slanting through the windows outside
hit upon the shadows in the dusty corner;
corners cut by the butcher's son
leave little left of the slaughtered voices.
I cradle his red stained hands,
leaving the untraceable pleasure under my fingertips.
With the time ticking away,
why does all the time travel to some sort of silent retreat?
We all feel pleasure in being guilty.
I start to yell, like ***** willows on fire
to let my own voices recover.
Copyright - Danielle Jones and Poetry Class 2012
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2011
Where God passes
The edge of forever where raw power is displayed

Walk the seascapes enter the story told in timelessness except for outer space it is the only place where man finds his mind freed so steep is the unending awe that without question he finally is able to present his self

as the tiny speck lost is all ego all self importance he is open to the quest for ultimate truth. You perfect you’re thinking at the sea shore it is a storehouse that lends itself to grand thoughts no limitations hamper

your endeavors aliveness engulfs you totally. Subdued moods excavate every shallow you start a down ward decent the deep cries out to your soul the part that never can be accessed on shore. The ground a

foundation for raising up temporal structures your needs are served in waters that open as a mysterious gate the deeper the fathoms the more understanding is released. To abide in calm surface features of the

sea what a waste take off the restraints become a voyager drift with churning twisting pressures they will give great reward for accosting your accustomed staid and uneventful living. Go deeper the mundane the

so called important will be forced through your very pores as you continue calling the unknown manifest itself with great scrolls hidden beyond reach to those that plod along the sunny quiet banks. Life test all

men you can face them unafraid armed with years not minutes of preparedness found alone in the struggle only found at sea. Pondered Plumbed in inexorable conditions that stretches changes a person’s character

his stature tempered fired as steel in the caldron. We need leaders vibrant thinkers people who can and will accost hell in the very near future and come away victorious. They will have found their way through

the untold deadly entanglements figuratively and real their not accustomed to ease and know perils at close quarters they learned them in great waters not in pools that have not the ability to stir you to your

core you’re going to pour out your life in one form or another do it with sand and grit leave a scarred an effectual trail for others to follow not the light untraceable light footsteps of one who has never lived.
Akemi Apr 2017
sand sand sand sand sand sand
i think my mind is disintegrating
i might
**** myself
it probably began before i was born
in the beginning there was nothing
and the world was perfect
then i came into the world
and read lots of articles at university
because
i wanted a good grade
but the world began to fuzz at its edges
i’d drift back to the flat
and stare at all the objects in my room
unable to understand them
most of the time i hate myself
it’s one of the few emotions
i have left
i had this 4500 word assignment
but every time i went to type it up
my words came out, out of order
a string of unrecognisable
broken symbols
a mangled image of my own
stupid head
i came to the conclusion
i was
having a mental breakdown
the other month i
sat in the city mall
and
stared at all the passing people
in their most mundane moments
and thought
this is the rest of my life
this stupid, pointless repetition
i watched people rise on an escalator
faces fixed blankly on
the space in front of them
as if they weren’t there at all
i watched seagulls poke at one another
and squawk into the ground
and thought
there is more life in them
than us
i didn’t want to be a **** up again
i would try to read over
what’d i’d written
for hours on end
until i was shaking, on the edge of tears
unable to understand why this was happening to me
i’d lie in bed
and think about the infinite worthless stretch of my life
feeling only an untraceable anxiety
deep in the pit of
my flesh
for the longest time
i thought all this anxiety and fear
came from without
that if i learned about existence enough
i could
excise all the bad parts out
but something in my head broke
something i couldn’t
control
maybe some part of me wanted this to happen
so i’d have a reason
to die.
the self is predicated on misrecognition
an illusion of mastery
over a world that is utterly
indifferent to it.

the first to escape control of the self is not the other
but the self's own body.

in other words
we betray ourselves.
Connor Oct 2015
I'm sure an abstract painter adores
the confusion of their
lovers.
Glass reflections on materials in a bedroom
E M P H A S I Z E
the EGOIST in every
sofa
and
actress
in a television set while it rains out
(creating pockets of water on the balcony)
Where is my foundation for times like these when
feet become LOUD ER in the daytime
and obstacles have grown their teeth?

Perhaps a dump truck full of nicely dressed mannequins
will finally be
ticketed
and my eyes
will see
as soft
as your
hair.

Quarry of bones in an office space
and the FORMAL TIE HAS DESTROYED ITSELF WITH
SOCIETAL EXPECTATIONS AGAIN
(LUCIDITY KEEPS INSANITY DISTRACTED)

Caffeinated Canadian Bohemian
daydream of firs showering adjacent
Manhattan batteries.
Tomorrow's rejections watch
bright and beautiful waves smile with false
inspiration
a n d a n o t h e r
concrete victim is created.

!MADNESS!
(the solar flare of the Neutral)
the ammunition in my coffee
and conversations blinking
LAUGHS          OUT
                           TO
                           THE
                           ABYSS
(gorgeous and hollow lineups in front of
a Vancouver bar 11:30pm)

Pale October energies and the
Dharma Radio
feathering my fantasies as this year reaches it's last quarter
CREATIVITY MEANDERING
NEAR NOTHING
anxiously I roll around on the mattress,
open window, listening in on the intricately staged
oblivion of trees
who've become infatuated
with coffins.

Gastown (as it appeared in my dreams)
has found it's dusk anthem!
Adriano Celantano's
"BUONA SERA SIGNORINA"
what a strange dream that was
the music was vivid to the point of
impossible recognition
and I'm awake and dizzy not from all that
but from love
(it's tilting my axis!)
Always has......

An untraceable eye
lingers in
malevolence to ALL city banks
where the late bop players
stand united and "free"
(Outside, by art on a wall with animals dancing in a hot air balloon, jealous of their own permanent state of painted euphoria)
Restaurants are consumed by silence
upon closing down,
but NOT the Fisgard streetcorner cafe
I frequent!
It's LOUD TRUTH and San Francisco weeps in
the decorated walls.....some far off dream of North Beach
Trieste evening with people who were once ALIVE!!
People that bleached
THE AMERICAN VISION
with sharpened language sleeker than
the polished jaw of Apollo.

Here I am again,
accepting the same sweeping misery
as those before me
(settled tombstones barely seen beneath a wild oak
while cars cry exhaust to beach-view apartments
and Winter's harsh wind drums against the window pane)
sure they were good people, but living plays no favorites.

I'm awake and dizzy!
forlorn with the morning.
Stars surrender to a sun
which often wonders
how we adapt to this asylum.
(Vanity makes me sleepy)

Warm in the delicate crimson light,
I lie in a temporary peace.
I am setting
as all else rises.
Rochelle R Jan 2017
It's cold here, but it heightens her senses. The rustle of the wind in the fallen leaves and the crash of waves on a distant shore tell her she's at home. But this dream is a lie. There is a huntsman on her tail. His mark is untraceable. But to her it's undeniable. He is here. Silent, patient and resolved, her would-be captor knows her as his own reflection. She is aware of intentions, but also of his hesitation. So, in spite of being in his sights, she paces on. Steady, her gaze remains ahead. And though the ranks of cypress trees pass one by one, for what seems to be eternity, the search for her moon moves her on.
I have to believe there are several realities existing at once, on different planes. Or else, this one is cruel.
wяong Oct 2014
Self-respect, Self-esteem,
A body,
Sparkling red, ruby love for traveling to new and broader sides of the world,
A pair of lips,
A heart that can tremble when sad, and vibrate with joy when she feels my hands in hers,
Some eyes,
A pretty ******* **** interest in books
Legs, arms or what not,
A round, firm belief system that can open up if support presents itself,
Clothes..or not what do I care?,
An untraceable amount of empathy, that is quilted with smaller amounts of self-interest and a hankering for affection that is not masked and hidden by make-up and trendy fashion,
Hair, long or short, or none...,
A sense of pride when she walks and this somewhat cynical view on how the world works, because she believes that the complex life we live in cannot be generalized to the point that government can regulate it,
A tongue, that can swivel and turn just so she can speak, nothing else, speak her mind, speak her thoughts, but she can never speak enough...
Ears, or an ear, or none because I doubt I'll be talking over her,
A never-ending need to be herself, and the knowing that she is beautiful, beautiful enough to be able to "look like she just woke up", beautiful enough to not need me,
But most importantly beautiful enough to be totally invisible...
Hal Loyd Denton Jan 2012
The Clouded Sea

The sea lies flat setting just off shore a billowy cloud tenderly rests this sky voyager floats on the waves a misty guest
The two always complement each other one widely flows the other bestows willowy snow like scenes to enchant
The air stands between the swells and the moist over hanging shell set among azure blue once flight was the quest
The painter’s mind it does spark illuminations submerged in soulful wells truths transferred on canvas holds you in its spell

Who writes in the wind to the closest friends he sends these weighty thoughts stirred he will enclose them then disclose all
Yes the sea will tell of richness the boundless waves in their glorious spray will touch with magnificence this tribunal voice
Speaks every language has and knows the most dramatic utterances that blend with silence the soothing on the soul it falls
Text books widest roads it runs them all to their ends it investigates with tender’s breeze or with a squall it may favor a call

You sit among the cool frothing suds the sands grow no buds but oh what sights sea grasses grow amidst the dunes flume like
The gulls sail on the wind and delight with their aerial antics Pelicans fly in squadron formation seal and otter amuse and delight
The chill spreads inland, sweaters appear couples huddle close generating warmth cherished feelings rise ever as high as a kite
Smiles spread no Nordic blast can take away pleasure that is seated in oceanic sprawl the emotions deepen with the tide

The final pleasure you can’t ignore this chance to inter a cloud bank puffs of crystal standing two stories high float into the mist
Reach out swirl your hand in a circle make portholes turn slowly you are now engulfed in chiffon elegance a cumulus ball awaits
Step by step walk on moist softness feel the lightness as it springs then leaves delightful delicate prints only the unicorn will visit
The untraceable path through earthbound cloud at the sea shore for you it came to be just a puff of magic fluff for your embrace
Hal Loyd Denton Nov 2011
The Clouded Sea

The sea lies flat setting just off shore a billowy cloud tenderly rests this sky voyager floats on the waves a misty guest
The two always complement each other one widely flows the other bestows willowy snow like scenes to enchant
The air stands between the swells and the moist over hanging shell set among azure blue once flight was the quest
The painter’s mind it does spark illuminations submerged in soulful wells truths transferred on canvas holds you in its spell

Who writes in the wind to the closest friends he sends these weighty thoughts stirred he will enclose them then disclose all
Yes the sea will tell of richness the boundless waves in their glorious spray will touch with magnificence this tribunal voice
Speaks every language has and knows the most dramatic utterances that blend with silence the soothing on the soul it falls
Text books widest roads it runs them all to their ends it investigates with tender’s breeze or with a squall it may favor a call

You sit among the cool frothing suds the sands grow no buds but oh what sights sea grasses grow amidst the dunes flume like
The gulls sail on the wind and delight with their aerial antics Pelicans fly in squadron formation seal and otter amuse and delight
The chill spreads inland, sweaters appear couples huddle close generating warmth cherished feelings rise ever as high as a kite
Smiles spread no Nordic blast can take away pleasure that is seated in oceanic sprawl the emotions deepen with the tide

The final pleasure you can’t ignore this chance to inter a cloud bank puffs of crystal standing two stories high float into the mist
Reach out swirl your hand in a circle make portholes turn slowly you are now engulfed in chiffon elegance a cumulus ball awaits
Step by step walk on moist softness feel the lightness as it springs then leaves delightful delicate prints only the unicorn will visit
The untraceable path through earthbound cloud at the sea shore for you it came to be just a puff of magic fluff for your embrace
Lauren C Oct 2012
At the kitchen sink,
raw hands scrubbed clean
of associations, the untraceable
scent of you overwhelmed me.
Its subtlety was disarming,
trawling nights of salty tongues
and toothpasted underbrush,
of bundled mornings
and the Führer’s glassy eye,
bright blue. Of wan starlight
gleaming on placid lake
and raucous beer-spiked nights
across the water. That light
presaged different things for both of us.

But that night you lingered close
on air, edging the doorjambs wedged
with year-old hesitations,
the driftwould crumbling
the threaden footfalls between
your house and mine.

— The End —