two souls
peAking
through
the fog and
confusion
of Life’s
many illusions.
lighting the way with
passion
inspiration
beauty and
hope.
&
Love.
Category: EL
flight
feather falls
from eagle’s wing
down from the sky
to
mind’s
eye.
from whence she came
I dunno.
but when she should go
I
follow.
unexpected
circumhappenstance
thrills
my heart exuberant
ly.
our first dance awaits:
tangled and fallen.
and whirled all about,
is this love, she asks?
(why must we doubt)
I rhyme with pride
because I must hide
anxious anticipatories.
I sing
to thank the heavens,
the Universe,
and
You.
R’xit: One Month / New Prez
“A man walks down the street
It’s a street in a strange world
Maybe it’s the Third World
Maybe it’s his first time around
He doesn’t speak the language
He holds no currency
He is a foreign man
He is surrounded by the sound
The sound
Cattle in the marketplace
Scatterlings and orphanages
He looks around, around
He sees angels in the architecture
Spinning in infinity
He says Amen!
Hallelujah!”
(Excerpt, Simon, Paul.”Call Me Al“, Concert in the Park, 1991)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yfBB2NG93-Q
Focus on all the beauty that remains in this world
and
Engage with it.
Engage with yourself.
Engage with others,
even those who think differently.
and most importantly:
STAND UP!
“So I’m [gonna] need every generation to put your hands up
Cause you can only get ‘em off your back when you stand up!”
(Excerpt, Technique, Immortal.”The Martyr“, The Martyr, 2011)
Torch
Dancing
with
suns burns
old souls.
Dance with me babe,
just dance.
Who
no one.
not a damn blessed soul
ever told me this road would end.
that everything just kinda,
stops.
Everything,
but me.
laying awake-
spinning,
healing,
falling,
waiting
in the absence of what never was.
illuminated by the love I see,
illuminated by the love I feel
inside of, and
for
you.
Yeah Babe,
You.
confession of a self-denying cynic
tip-toe
sof-
ter
try as you
won’t.
know
as you
don’t.
she calls
to you.
(you)
Siren song
realized,
as two
big
bewitchingly
brown eyes.
Promises
of chaste
propriety
tossed aside-
quickly.
all
is NOT fair.
No mercy,
as your soul
mercilessly flails
your heart
deep in the
inside of you.
out of
breath,
and
dizzy.
why?
why did she
touch you
right,
there?
why do your lips
yearn.
for
a brush with
the divine-
the divine realized
as protruding
pillows of soft
pink
that whisper
love.
Love.
tender
budding
bulbs that sing
dirges for the unrequited.
and flow
to ply
your soul.
and
your heart
spasms
so,
you submit.
you submit.
you submit.
you submit
to the Universe.
you submit
to Time.
you submit
to whatever folly
this
delightful
demoness demands.
because
you
are lost.
lost in the beauty
of knowing
self’s counterpoint,
revealed.
Mockingbird Stew
Nothing
prepares you
to be
strong
in solitude.
absent
from
Mary’s Grace,
We…, No.
I,
seek sustenance
from the warrior within.
Tested,
Fierce
& Compassionate:
he is lacking.
battle
and glory
precede him
and
lay
behind
me.
I
sit.
waiting
for
Nothing,
and
it’s embrace:
freedom,
oblivion
Awakening,
finally
I see.
Jagger
In the
hollows
expect nothing.
U
can’t get.
Hope
hops
hilariously.
hysterically.
first time
is
at
last
time to fall.
again.
Fate,
twisted bitch of a lover,
remind me
no more.
What was
What ain’t.
What can be.
truth
masquerading
in red.
God’s fire.
angel
of
mine desire.
I quit u.
gift Transformers (not for Christmas)
the immensity
of the
experience-
over
poweringly
stifling.
traumatic
and interminable,
-all familiar friends,
may fuel
your love
for brother,
and
for sister.
be
better
than christ –
take the
excrement,
and share
the beauty of your
loving kindness.
because,
why not?
This is not a poem, because the meaning is Secret
This is not a poem, because the meaning is Secret
today she came to me.
through the beauty of morning sky
she came to me.
through connecting with old friends
she held my hand.
through playful, nonsensical banter
she tickled my insides.
through confronting my totem
she challenged me.
through learning of a friend’s current path
she inspired me.
through mastering a day’s work
she gave me confidence.
through a dog’s trust
she made me vulnerable.
Through all these things, and so much more,
My Muse spoke directly inside my soulplace.
She filled me with so much…..
ahhhh, I cannot explain.
there is too much, so much, …..
No really, I have no words for you today
only these paltry few letters strung together
masquerading as love.
just know
My Lover gave me quite a gift,
and it was for me,
and me alone.
My Lover, is grand, wise, and such a looker
My Lover inspires,
even when She speaks
through the rising sun
or a shaggy beard
or a beautiful tiny witch
or the wings of Heron
or didactic method
or capitalist goals
or a trusting dog’s eyes…
The Universe gives,
and gives,
and then gives me more.
(yes – we’re dating, the Universe and I)
I’m sorry that all I can share
are these measly,
incapable,
and small
little words.
but inside is a Magic
only for HER eyes.
theDeprevation 