Sunday, November 11, 2012
Strange, I felt myself withdraw from you,
Trust I cannot feel,
Trust you have too often betrayed, in me.
And Trust, I do not know,
Not in you, as I knew in her.
Waves, seas, tumultuous ...
I cannot write, I cannot speak.
Pain, swirls, and drowns,
As I enter into these waves,
And feel the pull, as I am screw driver-ed into the deep grey sea.
Trust I cannot feel,
You never have trust in me.
I look into the deep grey sea...
As smoke and fire hits the coast.
Will you ever dare to trust in me?
Saturday, November 10, 2012
More tempting than Circe, A grip, that rivals Calypso,
And the smarts, that even Penelope did not possess.
A nation, that sells violence, sells sex,
That trades with all the world,
And Enemy of God, and Enemy of Satan and the Devil's angels too.
And with it, we all do trade, this nation Great Babylon,
Enemy of the Devil, and of God, and all the Angels,
And God and all the angels, it does deny,
Daily, as it takes to trade,
And as it attacks Armageddon, and reveals the Apocalypse,
A challenge, even Calypso would not dare reveal!
A nation divided, a nation, that always continues to fall,
A house of trade, of Power Unmatched,
To be destroyed in an explosion, rivalling none.
Great Babylon, and its Towers of Babel.
The men at Byblos, would not have passed their secret on,
Had they known: it would record dear Babylon,
And her death, before all,
For her Harlotry, Enemy of God and Satan,
Lover and Enemy of all Mankind,
Babylon, the Nation, Babylon, the whore!
Enemy of Christ, Enemy of Satan.
Enemy of All!
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
You spoke of love,
You never meant it, it seems.
You spoke of happiness,
Your own at my expense,
Of morals: virtues,
As long as they were mine.
Your own virtues, hidden, latent in some distant desert swirling land,
Forgotten, along with me, my ashes, but a song to thee.
And I sit here, broken in you,
Living my life, trying but to spite, upsetting you,
Showing what is mine, and is not yours,
And I cry, As I realise this,
I live to spite you,
Not to aid me.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Hallowed be the thoughts of thee...Ghostly in their make-up,
Strings, the guts of a harp, do intertwine, as I think of thee.
Ghostly Material, entertains, and enters thee.
The skies turn aqua, and effervescent green, puke coloured, portrait of thee...
And yet, here you are, Haunting Conscious Dream,
Undeniable, with power over me...
To entertain, divert and interest me...
Fascination, entered me...
As your Ghostly hands, do puppeteer me...
And lead me into desert seas.
Hallowed, be the hollow thoughts of thee,
As, you divert, and entertain my scene.
Yet, Ghostly, be the thoughts of thee,
And ghostly, be thy name...
And in the Mystery: Haunting Conscious Dreams...
The beautiful harp does play, a haunting theme...
You are very good at obscuring, things,
As Ghostly fingers intertwine...
And I awake, from you, one day perhaps... I ask?
The Mystery of this Haunting, Conscious Dream.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
The perfect moment, perfection is not near,
Indigo clouds, make the sun, to hide,
Glorious Dawn, but dawn runs to hide...
And when I speak, I tell you simple truth...
Here, you'd hurt me, for speaking simplest truth.
My compass shows North,
I head into the swirling, shining waves...
About me, fins do rise...
And gills, draw in water, and ellipses, strange almost triangular forms...
The moment, of perfection... upon the terrible waves...
And in your dawn, I explore a bit... this kingdom, into which you let me in...
And in the privacy of your inner truths...
I recognise you, a triangular, elliptical shape...
With dorsal, and other fins, and gills to survive where I cannot...
And I leave the water, of your words and world...
And risk not your deadly ellipses of self-filled awe.
My blood, though it may spill, is God's, not your...
Monday, September 3, 2012
I sit and I speak, with God, and, quietly by us, is the Angel... Mr Guardian,
I weep, and speak, I ask, I ask: of T.R.A.G.E.D.Y. and the tempest upon the boat, of life!
I sit, I ask God, and the Angel... Guard.
I sit, I ask... what of tragedy...
And in answer, he gives me T.R.A.G.E.d.y.
He gives me you, to teach me a lesson, about asking... about Tragedy....
And I am perplexed... we learn more when wrong, when wronged, and wronged,
That we learn, more... than ever do when right, without a turn to left and right...
Yet, as I turn back, from my path in tragedy,
I wonder at those who never learn...
These... says Mr Guard, the guardian, who Mr Guardian replaced, are lessons themselves...
Lessens themselves... lessens themselves...
An echo strikes... and strikes... and strikes...
...against my cell...
And I am disrupted in my Holy Meditation...
By you... T.R.A.G.E.D.y....
You ask me to join you, join you,
And adventure into the wild dark of breathless, endless: night!
Into the sunset, we should ride...
My dear love... You say...
Shall I say it now, Miss Tragedy!
And the death of all who should into the endless night ride...
Mrs Tragedy... upon the night! Upon every good honest knight!
Is it not so, Ms Tragedy... Mrs ... Miss... Tragedy...
It echoes upon the bars, of the cell...
Captured, upon the darkness of your empty promised blackest lightest dark!
High into the sky, death's wings do rise,
by the by, death's wings do realise,
Love does fly, does soar in you.
Death, those wings, the bird of prey,
As love, and pride, and hope, do soar.
And as I lie, in bed, in bed,
My skeleton leaves me, and flies with death, like a harpy of old,
A winged skeleton, temporal man,
And there you are, sleeping in front of me,
And around me, and upon me,
Resting, finding hope,
The woman I once loved.
And death, and my harpy skeleton, temporal man,
Does swoop down, with falcon skeleton wings,
And drop us both, this temporal man, into a box,
A hexagonal box, which it puts out to sea,
But the box, a coffin, death trap,
A boat, in this world, below temporal man,
A boat, in it we weather the storms,
And death frowns, and my skeleton looks down, temporal man.
And we weather the seas, and death seas it too,
As we cross the boundary of sea and fire,
And head down into the fiery abyss,
Screaming and shouting, aghast...
As death looks down, and my skeleton does too...
And I am falling and falling,
And I am awake!
Sunday, March 4, 2012
The Path. I take. It is not less traveled.
It is not traveled, Not Ever, Not At All!
I Am All Alone, and In The Worldly Woods, Of Time And Space,
Below The Shooting Star, and The Dying Comet, Killed By Earth,
As One Once Dearly Killed, All On The Dearest Earthly compost.
And As I stare, In Starlit, Moonlit Light, And Check, My Compass Sight,
I re-orient, my orientation to my end, does shift, does slightly shift,
As I do, you alone, do, I avoid,
Dearest, Lady of Night and Sight,
Devil's own Path, would you have me step upon all alight.
Upon, this, Devil's Steps, and Devil's Creatures,
In These, Dark, Lonely, Wooded Forest.
But I re-orient, I follow a true, and different, light, Christ.
And As the wolves, do howl, and await your corpse,
I escape the worldly woods,
Which likely, are you grave,
I look upon the valley, in this safety, mountain shade.
I look upon your corpse, not just yet still.
As you push along an empty path,
Every step easy,
Into the Deepest, Deepest...
... .... DARK!
Saturday, March 3, 2012
You think you, in deathly waters: own, deadly, control me,
The dust suffocates, as stallions, race, in circles, in long trodden spoor,
You take aim at my heart, and Long Spent: Empty Soul,
With Words, and More,
A Rhythm of pounding, with ever owning rights,
knights and nights, and flashing, multicoloured lights:
...and ending never ending wrongs,
You think you own me, you believe all, control my form,
You obsess, or possess me, only in your deathly tidal mental form!
And as you pursue your nights and knights,
And seek, endless, chivalrousness-void monetary sights,
You think you steer me,
But I have Another Light!
To Lead Me, with pats upon my hope... my
... bridal reign... ... not your feign sane.. bridle rein...
...Guided, in blackest:... grayness, in nose, and touch...
Through, This Darkness, Which You Truly Own,
This Deathly, Never Ending, ...Ending Night!
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
I am! I am Without!
A storm in the teacup!
A tempest in the Teapot!
I am without!
I am unaffected!
I watch the winds stir!
I see the precipitation destroy!
The humidity, rise into blackest clouds!
The storm, I watch, I observe,
Sense! Ridiculous! Sense!
As it overtakes and destroys!
And yet, should I be all alone,
I'd prefer the storm,
Than to be all alone,
With no one to love,
No one who dearly deeply, firstly, only truly:
Loves Only Me!
Sunday, February 5, 2012
It may excite you,
Or seeming bare.
You may justify,
You may even fight!
And bite and scratch,
To defend what's wrong!
What's always, always, objectively wrong!
And fight, once on the top branches,
Now upon the lowly mass of floor boards-bored;
Sin, it bores me,any
image worn bare,
All blasé all- same.
It does not bore me, not in any way!
Love- I want,
Sinfulness is just raw, uncooked,
Not love, I am not bored!
Friday, February 3, 2012
I emit my beliefs,
I deflect what is not,
I absorb the truth,
In what sometimes ,
To some only seems.
And I wonder,
Loudly, without sound,
Resonating, soundless, sound!
Of this simply,
Truth and untruth,
And if a lie,
That which is not,
Can truly resonate!
They say you are above me,
That I am below.
There was a fall,
And my entire kind did drop.
They say the stars are famous,
The Southern Cross,
Orion, the Warrior- kind of the night sky.
And the superstars,
Blackness in the skies.
The heavens are above me,
The territory of The All Mighty,
The Divine Might,
Beyond every human sight,
Far more famous,
Than pathos skies,
And stars, human might,
From our Babylons and Babels and our beginning pathos heights!
As we look to Origin,
In which we subsist,
Upon the Will of Heavenly Might,
That drops From Heavenly Heights,
As Might is Now Actual,
And Actual Is Never by Yahweh past, spent!
Thought all us are soon enough spent,
Long since fallen dropped-eds.
Fallen, ever climbing,
Is this the state of Man?
Of My Kind,
Fallen from the heights of Heaven,
Of what is not!
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Gravity, is weak,
Gravely, I say, is NOT!
Gravity, it cannot fight a slight vacuum,
Above a fighter jet wing,
Gravity, I gravely say: it never was!
It absorbs- a vacuum,
Gravity, lack of energy- lack of light!
Gravity, but absorbs,
And for this, in circles do satellites fall!
And do black holes absorb light,
Gravity, but lack,
Absorbsion of space time: light!
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
The view is not!
My territorial integrity,
It shall not break!
Some I let walk,
On the consistent stretches,
Where connection is possible!
And deep, into darkness,
Into my scars, through which blood does flow: arteries, veins!
Within my territory,
They, without force,
Of my territorial lands!
I mark my territory,
With words, and regrets!
I shared it once,
My deepest moving paths,
That move from my deepest depths, to every part of my territory!
And my territory was your Territory!
And I thought!
That once, your territory,
Was My territory!
I never withheld,
Not a petal,
Not a shrub!
I heard you!
Though there was only shadow!
Below the Eucalyptus,
I saw you,
Rocking in a white dress!
As the breeze of warmth,
And the shadows,
Became great, and green,
Swiftly moving of their own accord!
And I saw you,
Between shades of death,
An angel, rocking,
On a rocking chair,
Wooden, made of wood!
The chair, not you!
All dressed in white,
All dressed in white,
Below the Eucalyptus Tree!
In a cabin, wooden, in the
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
To hope: to equate- estimate!
To despair: to equate- estimate!
Deadly Hope- Hope in Life!
Deadly hope! Hope in Christ?
The Death Of Hope,
This is hope indeed!
To predict, and estimate!
But none, can predict!
That which does never ever change!
The rolling rock, does always fall,
The falcon saw, and dives, and dies!
Deadly hope, and hope in death!
The symbol of hope! Itself!
And in America, and elsewhere, they display this hope,
The electric chair, modern crucifix!
This hope in death,
This putting of madness, imbalance unto death,
Injustice, the foolish call just! Judgment, of timeous things!
And the falcon, does fall,
Who is time, to judge the
eternal? That not
affected, but timeous-
And, as I watch- the daemon- saviour, on the tree,
On the tree, symbol, of Life!
Simplest life, of
Life, is nailed, a word, on a tree!
Written, life the indenting of lovers!
Death, hope, death and hope!
I sat! In service!
I said my prayers!
To the judge, His Worship,
Of The Divine Life!
There was no hammer,
No... Except my name,
Smashed against the past, and potential!
I said my prayers! And
stamped and stomped!
And before me stood,
Jesus Christ, and an
audience, define! Different!
And above him, Father God,
And between them,
Holy Spirit, Paraclete of their love!
And I made! My Prayer!
To Judgement! To that
staid, and not staid!
And watch: the workings,
Of Royal Blood!
And Watched! The Workings! Of the Royal
And Tasted, and held,
This prayer! In My Mouth!
They are in the ears!
The upright, true north!
Our relative direction,
In an earthly maze!
Balance! And the flairs that are human arms!
We are in motion, we move all, around!
The sense of direction,
The sense, of where we are!
But what happens when it breaks!
Everyone has a smell,
From it, we know them,
And where they are, whereupon they stand!
From it, we tell, their stance,
Their breakfast too,
And the danger in their glance!
Deception, stinks, badly, stinks!
Fear, lying, too!
To me, these are pungent,
Sickness, madness, sexuality, smell, too!
A woman smells of chemicals,
Of make up and God knows what else!
You smell of your breakfast too,
A smell to which I am not yet immune...
I might suggest a change of diet!
And water, natural,
Oh! The smell of water!
The very source of life!
I smell your passions,
I smell your hatred,
Your love, disgust!
And from your smell,
I know your potential,
As loyal, as mate!
And everything, you touch, your smell!
I cannot wash it out!