Poetry competition CLOSED 11th November 2014 11:19am
WINNER
Anonymous
Anonymous
RUNNERS-UP:
diddi
and LobodeSanPedro
Take me into the abstract
-(Maiden and Grail)-
“Look on amongst the first of the things that you read,
And in the last five of three, therein is the truth buried!”
You wonder what secrets I hold; thus ask of yourself…
Do I truly wish to know, and learn what is forbidden?
Steady your nerves and prepare to cross the vast gulf,
Where the legend of the Holy Grail, has been hidden!
I once met a horse with two riders on an ivory saddle,
As I made my way through a wasteland seeking after…
Things of which secrecy has sewn shut forever my lips.
One of the riders slew a serpent that bore a gold rattle,
And the other spied a dragon coming from a far rafter…
The dragon passed to them the cup from which it sips.
I asked the riders if there was room upon their steed…
For one more pilgrim seeking things we sought as one.
They passed me the cup and bid me sip to fill my need,
And then I understood the meaning, of what was done.
The riders sped off across the sands lost in some haze,
Whilst I remained, cup in hand, to chart the emptiness.
I ventured thusly for hours that passed into many days,
Until I encountered a little girl: clad in a long red dress.
A pyramid in gold was etched upon her garment front,
Within which was an eye, which saw all mortal doings.
I bowed before her, and spoke of my quest ever blunt,
Knowing that she did not wish for silence or misgivings.
“The emerald that once was held by the cup incarnate,
Came to sit within the crown of Lucifer, glory to sate!”
No knight of the table round, I, but one of armor red…
To match the color of the girl’s attire, passing strangely.
Once, my armor was darker in color, but then I bled…
For I was wounded in spirit, and wandering aimlessly!
The child asked only that I follow her, and such I did…
Until the wasteland gave way, to a green grassy plain,
Where lay scattered about the bones of the long dead,
Their torments were lost to time; gone, was their pain.
And there the child asked me to hand her the fair cup,
Which had slaked my thirst when I was lost in a waste.
I did comply with her simple request, and gave it up…
Watching as she poured out the wine it held with haste.
The soil accepted that scarlet nectar, and drank deep,
Until those who were slain did rise again in living flesh!
Animals once so feared went calmly back to each den.
Red roses bloomed, wherever the liquid so did seep…
And at last the cup and the maid who bore it did mesh.
One blood, one form, one destiny born under Heaven!
The miracle of the transfiguration that I beheld sudden,
Left me speechless, before the majesty of the divine…
I knew then my eyes stared as my cheeks did redden,
Leaving me like unto a child in spirit, as reborn in time!
“The cup that is not a cup became free of the emerald,
As some said: the emerald is the Grail sent earthward!”
Suddenly, the blood of my armor was washed clean…
And it shone black as ebon night with streaks of white.
Only a sanguine cross, remained upon the front seen…
Thus marking me to my delight: of the temple, a knight.
Maiden and grail became a lady tall and fairest to see,
More beautiful: than any daughter of man born mortal.
For a time I came to know the joys of her company…
Until at the appointed hour, she crossed a rosy portal.
Thus did that holy vessel pass beyond simple telling…
Into the realm of legend from whence she did emerge.
To think that I had witnessed a miracle so compelling!
Such wonder filled me that it felt like unto a hot surge.
When all was finished, a golden eagle with two heads,
As large as a horse, the bird did pick me up and soar.
Arriving at a temple where I entered, hand on heart…
I entered a sanctum large enough for countless sheds,
And I met the two riders who toasted all I did before!
Merry, my journey was over as I had played my part.
Magnificent, I set my armor on a table there to rest…
Is the journey any less the truth, than our destination?
Grail knights are not born but made; put to their test.
Blood and light, entwined without any consternation!
“The emerald is not the Gail, and men seek in vanity,
Truth in deceptions, as the cup was lost to honesty!”
“Look on amongst the first of the things that you read,
And in the last five of three, therein is the truth buried!”
You wonder what secrets I hold; thus ask of yourself…
Do I truly wish to know, and learn what is forbidden?
Steady your nerves and prepare to cross the vast gulf,
Where the legend of the Holy Grail, has been hidden!
I once met a horse with two riders on an ivory saddle,
As I made my way through a wasteland seeking after…
Things of which secrecy has sewn shut forever my lips.
One of the riders slew a serpent that bore a gold rattle,
And the other spied a dragon coming from a far rafter…
The dragon passed to them the cup from which it sips.
I asked the riders if there was room upon their steed…
For one more pilgrim seeking things we sought as one.
They passed me the cup and bid me sip to fill my need,
And then I understood the meaning, of what was done.
The riders sped off across the sands lost in some haze,
Whilst I remained, cup in hand, to chart the emptiness.
I ventured thusly for hours that passed into many days,
Until I encountered a little girl: clad in a long red dress.
A pyramid in gold was etched upon her garment front,
Within which was an eye, which saw all mortal doings.
I bowed before her, and spoke of my quest ever blunt,
Knowing that she did not wish for silence or misgivings.
“The emerald that once was held by the cup incarnate,
Came to sit within the crown of Lucifer, glory to sate!”
No knight of the table round, I, but one of armor red…
To match the color of the girl’s attire, passing strangely.
Once, my armor was darker in color, but then I bled…
For I was wounded in spirit, and wandering aimlessly!
The child asked only that I follow her, and such I did…
Until the wasteland gave way, to a green grassy plain,
Where lay scattered about the bones of the long dead,
Their torments were lost to time; gone, was their pain.
And there the child asked me to hand her the fair cup,
Which had slaked my thirst when I was lost in a waste.
I did comply with her simple request, and gave it up…
Watching as she poured out the wine it held with haste.
The soil accepted that scarlet nectar, and drank deep,
Until those who were slain did rise again in living flesh!
Animals once so feared went calmly back to each den.
Red roses bloomed, wherever the liquid so did seep…
And at last the cup and the maid who bore it did mesh.
One blood, one form, one destiny born under Heaven!
The miracle of the transfiguration that I beheld sudden,
Left me speechless, before the majesty of the divine…
I knew then my eyes stared as my cheeks did redden,
Leaving me like unto a child in spirit, as reborn in time!
“The cup that is not a cup became free of the emerald,
As some said: the emerald is the Grail sent earthward!”
Suddenly, the blood of my armor was washed clean…
And it shone black as ebon night with streaks of white.
Only a sanguine cross, remained upon the front seen…
Thus marking me to my delight: of the temple, a knight.
Maiden and grail became a lady tall and fairest to see,
More beautiful: than any daughter of man born mortal.
For a time I came to know the joys of her company…
Until at the appointed hour, she crossed a rosy portal.
Thus did that holy vessel pass beyond simple telling…
Into the realm of legend from whence she did emerge.
To think that I had witnessed a miracle so compelling!
Such wonder filled me that it felt like unto a hot surge.
When all was finished, a golden eagle with two heads,
As large as a horse, the bird did pick me up and soar.
Arriving at a temple where I entered, hand on heart…
I entered a sanctum large enough for countless sheds,
And I met the two riders who toasted all I did before!
Merry, my journey was over as I had played my part.
Magnificent, I set my armor on a table there to rest…
Is the journey any less the truth, than our destination?
Grail knights are not born but made; put to their test.
Blood and light, entwined without any consternation!
“The emerald is not the Gail, and men seek in vanity,
Truth in deceptions, as the cup was lost to honesty!”
- Temple of Serpents -
Between two pillars, one of a marble white as is ivory,
And the other as black and sleek as polished ebony…
There lay the altar where I knelt, to touch a holy tome.
Within the secret temple so far from hearth and home,
I had known the kiss of Wisdom, and felt her embrace.
Now her eyes gazed upon me, as I felt her ideal grace!
Open the book and read what words that it contains…
Thus spoke one I could not see, as faint as fine grains,
And yet with strength that was as firm as it was caring.
I felt a sudden courage, the beauty of my soul daring…
And so, I stood, smoothing the folds of my long skirts.
I looked longingly upon the book, imagining its’ words,
But finding my mind could not comprehend the unseen.
And so I reached out once more, my fair eyes agleam!
I dared to cast those covers apart, the pages to reveal,
What lay within the tome: once bound, by a waxy seal.
I read what was contained thereupon, and I saw it all…
The things kept from the masses, lest the pure may fall.
Yet I felt my innocence unscathed, and I kept my soul,
Though I had danced with the Devil, her love to know.
It was like a dream of darkness, shattering imagination,
All illusions stripped away by the glow of illumination…
And, I could not go back to believing the common lies.
Those things people are told, which is truth in disguise!
Once, I was a broken soul; I had felt the chill of death.
Now I saw a universe revealed, quickening my breath!
The eye of Wisdom gazed from within a silver pyramid,
And not one thing, before that eye, could ever be hid…
For Wisdom watches her watchers, is watched in turn.
Her embrace is something that not one soul can spurn!
I found without seeking, and I was sought and found…
By a force divine and glorious, which made me proud.
I had no need for tomes, for temples, or for old rites…
When I was the living ritual, the culmination of delights,
Both of celestial and infernal design in lovely harmony!
The androgynous angel who beheld in solemn dignity…
Things beautiful and terrible: the circle within a square.
Yin and yang, manifested in ways that only gods dare,
Yet which I bask in; and which is beheld in my nature.
I was guided forth from that place, that holy structure!
There was a garden I stood in next, my body tingling,
With the pleasures that swarmed within me, bringing…
My wanton spirit near to dominance: or to submission.
I saw, she who was responsible for my life’s mission…
And she beheld me, and we embraced, as lovers may.
I felt her body against mine, I felt him warm: as is day!
Male and female in a single form, perfect and flawless,
Rushing upon me so ravenously, to hold and to caress.
I was a shrine, my lover the pilgrim, and love our sect!
We were twin serpents, coiling, our coils rising erect…
Each brushing against the other until my face did blush.
She took me, he took me, and I was seized in a rush…
Of passion so mad, that I thought I might tear asunder.
From far away, I heard the rumblings of loud thunder,
And yet my lover was generous, and pleased me full…
Until I lay, with my lover atop me, my senses not dull.
Rather I felt one with all around me, and I knew bliss,
For I was lost in her love, and I was adrift, in his kiss.
We were twin serpents, uncoiling, loosening our coils,
Yet the fire in me did not die, and to this day, it boils!
Between two pillars, one of a marble white as is ivory,
And the other as black and sleek as polished ebony…
There lay the altar where I knelt, to touch a holy tome.
Within the secret temple so far from hearth and home,
I had known the kiss of Wisdom, and felt her embrace.
Now her eyes gazed upon me, as I felt her ideal grace!
Open the book and read what words that it contains…
Thus spoke one I could not see, as faint as fine grains,
And yet with strength that was as firm as it was caring.
I felt a sudden courage, the beauty of my soul daring…
And so, I stood, smoothing the folds of my long skirts.
I looked longingly upon the book, imagining its’ words,
But finding my mind could not comprehend the unseen.
And so I reached out once more, my fair eyes agleam!
I dared to cast those covers apart, the pages to reveal,
What lay within the tome: once bound, by a waxy seal.
I read what was contained thereupon, and I saw it all…
The things kept from the masses, lest the pure may fall.
Yet I felt my innocence unscathed, and I kept my soul,
Though I had danced with the Devil, her love to know.
It was like a dream of darkness, shattering imagination,
All illusions stripped away by the glow of illumination…
And, I could not go back to believing the common lies.
Those things people are told, which is truth in disguise!
Once, I was a broken soul; I had felt the chill of death.
Now I saw a universe revealed, quickening my breath!
The eye of Wisdom gazed from within a silver pyramid,
And not one thing, before that eye, could ever be hid…
For Wisdom watches her watchers, is watched in turn.
Her embrace is something that not one soul can spurn!
I found without seeking, and I was sought and found…
By a force divine and glorious, which made me proud.
I had no need for tomes, for temples, or for old rites…
When I was the living ritual, the culmination of delights,
Both of celestial and infernal design in lovely harmony!
The androgynous angel who beheld in solemn dignity…
Things beautiful and terrible: the circle within a square.
Yin and yang, manifested in ways that only gods dare,
Yet which I bask in; and which is beheld in my nature.
I was guided forth from that place, that holy structure!
There was a garden I stood in next, my body tingling,
With the pleasures that swarmed within me, bringing…
My wanton spirit near to dominance: or to submission.
I saw, she who was responsible for my life’s mission…
And she beheld me, and we embraced, as lovers may.
I felt her body against mine, I felt him warm: as is day!
Male and female in a single form, perfect and flawless,
Rushing upon me so ravenously, to hold and to caress.
I was a shrine, my lover the pilgrim, and love our sect!
We were twin serpents, coiling, our coils rising erect…
Each brushing against the other until my face did blush.
She took me, he took me, and I was seized in a rush…
Of passion so mad, that I thought I might tear asunder.
From far away, I heard the rumblings of loud thunder,
And yet my lover was generous, and pleased me full…
Until I lay, with my lover atop me, my senses not dull.
Rather I felt one with all around me, and I knew bliss,
For I was lost in her love, and I was adrift, in his kiss.
We were twin serpents, uncoiling, loosening our coils,
Yet the fire in me did not die, and to this day, it boils!
- The Philosopher’s Stone -
There is a stone, which is not a stone, but is fairer by far!
It hath not a value, but is priceless… over all things that are.
Many shapes and forms hath it, but of one substance, all!
It is a thing known to our masses…. It was of before the fall.
Possess it, and ye may speak with faeries and angels in full,
And all spiritual animals, that dwell beyond the senses’ pull.
The Prima Material of Creation, without which, all fades:
Of this, the stone was fashioned first, and thus was so made.
Spirit, being that elemental force, the Fifth of the Great Four…
From whence the others, its’ own brethren, did as one pour.
A spiritual stone, thusly was born, and is unto the end of time:
This thing we all possess but do not always, in truth, realize.
It is damnation to reveal lest the receiver be thus Initiate:
Well acquainted, with mysteries that are of a higher climate.
And should any reveal to one unready: both will enter Hell…
For any so willing to plumb these depths, ring its’ iron bell!
In secret art… in private and passionate pursuit ye find…
That which may not so be told: but of which all seek to bind.
Do thy part… but lest evil be the fruit of all thy venture…
Make of thy heart a thing that is like unto gold crafted pure!
A witch and warlock of skill may unite their craft and so:
Awaken the child, who is not a child, as to lead them below.
Wise in the Great Working is this child, whom all do know,
Yet whose company makes us seal our lips and thusly stow.
By reading and discovering, all labor bears well the fruit,
Until in triumph we ascend unto a realm of celestial pursuit.
The blind depart not, but with eyes our wings take flight!
The shell of what was, we discard, so evolving to the Light.
Like Hercules, we abandon the gross littleness of all things…
We become god and goddess, when the Secret Child sings!
Immortality is much more than the whole of what it brings.
There is a stone, which is not a stone, but is fairer by far!
It hath not a value, but is priceless… over all things that are.
Many shapes and forms hath it, but of one substance, all!
It is a thing known to our masses…. It was of before the fall.
Possess it, and ye may speak with faeries and angels in full,
And all spiritual animals, that dwell beyond the senses’ pull.
The Prima Material of Creation, without which, all fades:
Of this, the stone was fashioned first, and thus was so made.
Spirit, being that elemental force, the Fifth of the Great Four…
From whence the others, its’ own brethren, did as one pour.
A spiritual stone, thusly was born, and is unto the end of time:
This thing we all possess but do not always, in truth, realize.
It is damnation to reveal lest the receiver be thus Initiate:
Well acquainted, with mysteries that are of a higher climate.
And should any reveal to one unready: both will enter Hell…
For any so willing to plumb these depths, ring its’ iron bell!
In secret art… in private and passionate pursuit ye find…
That which may not so be told: but of which all seek to bind.
Do thy part… but lest evil be the fruit of all thy venture…
Make of thy heart a thing that is like unto gold crafted pure!
A witch and warlock of skill may unite their craft and so:
Awaken the child, who is not a child, as to lead them below.
Wise in the Great Working is this child, whom all do know,
Yet whose company makes us seal our lips and thusly stow.
By reading and discovering, all labor bears well the fruit,
Until in triumph we ascend unto a realm of celestial pursuit.
The blind depart not, but with eyes our wings take flight!
The shell of what was, we discard, so evolving to the Light.
Like Hercules, we abandon the gross littleness of all things…
We become god and goddess, when the Secret Child sings!
Immortality is much more than the whole of what it brings.
- The Temple of the Soul -
In the temple of the soul,
Where the wind, she starts to blow…
Two priestesses with robes so white,
Sing the song that welcomes the night.
Talk about time, talk about rhyme,
Talking about the universe, sublime!
The king in crimson came to the party,
Dancing the night away…
All his court, they sang oh so hearty,
Dancing ‘till the light of day!
In the temple of the soul,
Watch the torches flickering so low…
My priestess sang, your priestess rang,
They made the song that eases the pain.
Talk about ease, talk about peace,
Talking about making troubles cease!
The queen in jade came to the party,
Singing the night away…
All her court, they danced so hearty,
Singing ‘till the light of day!
In the temple of the soul,
Where the flags, they are a-flying so…
Two priestesses with robes so white,
They set the flags to burn with delight.
Talk about desire, talk about fire,
Talking about the time to perspire!
The prince in azure came to the party,
Laughing the night away…
All his court, they laughed so hearty,
Laughing ‘till the light of day!
In the temple of the soul,
Where the party is all out of control…
Two priestesses with robes so white,
They joined the party, ending the rite.
Talk about time, talk about rhyme,
Talking about the universe, sublime!
The princess in jet came to the party,
As the night ran away…
All her court, they were oh so hearty,
Fading in the light of day!
In the temple of the soul,
Where the wind, she starts to blow…
Two priestesses with robes so white,
Sing the song that welcomes the night.
Talk about time, talk about rhyme,
Talking about the universe, sublime!
The king in crimson came to the party,
Dancing the night away…
All his court, they sang oh so hearty,
Dancing ‘till the light of day!
In the temple of the soul,
Watch the torches flickering so low…
My priestess sang, your priestess rang,
They made the song that eases the pain.
Talk about ease, talk about peace,
Talking about making troubles cease!
The queen in jade came to the party,
Singing the night away…
All her court, they danced so hearty,
Singing ‘till the light of day!
In the temple of the soul,
Where the flags, they are a-flying so…
Two priestesses with robes so white,
They set the flags to burn with delight.
Talk about desire, talk about fire,
Talking about the time to perspire!
The prince in azure came to the party,
Laughing the night away…
All his court, they laughed so hearty,
Laughing ‘till the light of day!
In the temple of the soul,
Where the party is all out of control…
Two priestesses with robes so white,
They joined the party, ending the rite.
Talk about time, talk about rhyme,
Talking about the universe, sublime!
The princess in jet came to the party,
As the night ran away…
All her court, they were oh so hearty,
Fading in the light of day!
My latest poem, just penned tonight, I wrote whilst in a bit of a spiritual trance so it's very surreal and somewhat abstract in places indeed. Here it is, for everyone's reading pleasure:
- Alpha and Omega: The Egg and the Maiden -
Being a surreal, cosmic meditation.
Singing in the solemn dark, shimmering silvery,
The porcelain maiden stands taller than the sky…
Holding to her bosom the pulsing egg of purity.
When it cracks, it unleashes what none can defy:
The power of creation manifesting in azure hues,
Each ray of light a hand reaching out to so grasp…
A universe so helpless before that, which ensues!
One cycle ends, its’ death unleashing final gasps,
Of laboring breath like poison added unto flame.
This is how cycles end, destruction and rebirth…
Copulating in fire, unleashing light with no shame,
From out the darkness of an old, dying universe.
Alpha and omega, the origin and the revelation,
Need not mortal understanding to be understood.
They care naught for high rank or for education,
For, they exist in the hidden places of our blood.
The new arises, the old passes away forgotten…
But she, who sang the song of the end, sings yet!
Heed my words and know of all that is begotten,
And remember the whole, for mortals oft forget.
A new symphony is being written every moment,
So that for every death, a life is ushered in swift!
Those who by choice see not: will feel torment,
When all others sing with her, and many are left…
To the crucible in which a new order shall arise!
The old order is without meaning upon that day,
For the phoenix must take flight with the sunrise.
Many, will be called, whilst many still must stay!
Alpha and omega, the genesis and the rapture,
Need not willing souls to serve their grand ends.
Their power shapes all, making everything pure,
For, all that which so evolves not, creation rends.
Green power from the hidden realms of divinity,
Where the Vril wait to receive, and to bestow…
Gifts, of magnitude: beyond the ken of mortality.
Hear the song of the maiden to learn and know!
She sings with constant harmony clear as water,
And, they hear her song: they, mortals call gods.
The Vril channel the might of that pure daughter,
And the green energy ripples, in emerald floods.
The hidden kingdoms art rocked by the power,
Whilst humanity is transformed, able to evolve…
Because of the petals of a pale emerald flower!
Round the egg of alpha and omega, we revolve.
Alpha and omega, the egg and the pale maiden,
Need not our devotion or our revulsion to exist.
They are, both ever-revealed, and ever-hidden,
For, they art the authors of both wrath and bliss.
- Alpha and Omega: The Egg and the Maiden -
Being a surreal, cosmic meditation.
Singing in the solemn dark, shimmering silvery,
The porcelain maiden stands taller than the sky…
Holding to her bosom the pulsing egg of purity.
When it cracks, it unleashes what none can defy:
The power of creation manifesting in azure hues,
Each ray of light a hand reaching out to so grasp…
A universe so helpless before that, which ensues!
One cycle ends, its’ death unleashing final gasps,
Of laboring breath like poison added unto flame.
This is how cycles end, destruction and rebirth…
Copulating in fire, unleashing light with no shame,
From out the darkness of an old, dying universe.
Alpha and omega, the origin and the revelation,
Need not mortal understanding to be understood.
They care naught for high rank or for education,
For, they exist in the hidden places of our blood.
The new arises, the old passes away forgotten…
But she, who sang the song of the end, sings yet!
Heed my words and know of all that is begotten,
And remember the whole, for mortals oft forget.
A new symphony is being written every moment,
So that for every death, a life is ushered in swift!
Those who by choice see not: will feel torment,
When all others sing with her, and many are left…
To the crucible in which a new order shall arise!
The old order is without meaning upon that day,
For the phoenix must take flight with the sunrise.
Many, will be called, whilst many still must stay!
Alpha and omega, the genesis and the rapture,
Need not willing souls to serve their grand ends.
Their power shapes all, making everything pure,
For, all that which so evolves not, creation rends.
Green power from the hidden realms of divinity,
Where the Vril wait to receive, and to bestow…
Gifts, of magnitude: beyond the ken of mortality.
Hear the song of the maiden to learn and know!
She sings with constant harmony clear as water,
And, they hear her song: they, mortals call gods.
The Vril channel the might of that pure daughter,
And the green energy ripples, in emerald floods.
The hidden kingdoms art rocked by the power,
Whilst humanity is transformed, able to evolve…
Because of the petals of a pale emerald flower!
Round the egg of alpha and omega, we revolve.
Alpha and omega, the egg and the pale maiden,
Need not our devotion or our revulsion to exist.
They are, both ever-revealed, and ever-hidden,
For, they art the authors of both wrath and bliss.
http://i1317.photobucket.com/albums/t623/curlycue23/zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz_zps8edaab24.png
LOST
Confused without a clue
Perplexed is my complexion
Adrift in a sea of infinite disorientation
"Am I in delusion, or is reality an illusion?"
Either way,
I’m an agnostic lost in space.
LOST
Confused without a clue
Perplexed is my complexion
Adrift in a sea of infinite disorientation
"Am I in delusion, or is reality an illusion?"
Either way,
I’m an agnostic lost in space.
Can Never Expire
Most times
that I play guitar
I drift diagonal lines
with ghosts
I know too far
I apply my song
to make it mine
then they ride along
with the rhyme
but all along , I know it''s wrong
not to be right
If I'm making
pizza
or raking
autumn leaves in
I do what I do
because it's needed
and not to please
someone
I'd love a tardis
as my walk in cupboard
or to step into Oz
through a magic , shallow puddle
this much I'd covet .
whilst getting fucked up
then floating off in the bubble
that chucked the best
of lottery luck
to all that struggle
unjust .
99 percent of things
I re-invent
because they're so boring
but most of the time
to get close , to see you smile
this is all I need , minus greed
just a bit of you , sometimes .
will do for me
as you light my skies, moonbeams
engraved those eyes
to match the seas
of sunrise fire
what you are to me
can never expire
the energy , that you leave
atomically
transforms my being higher .
.
Most times
that I play guitar
I drift diagonal lines
with ghosts
I know too far
I apply my song
to make it mine
then they ride along
with the rhyme
but all along , I know it''s wrong
not to be right
If I'm making
pizza
or raking
autumn leaves in
I do what I do
because it's needed
and not to please
someone
I'd love a tardis
as my walk in cupboard
or to step into Oz
through a magic , shallow puddle
this much I'd covet .
whilst getting fucked up
then floating off in the bubble
that chucked the best
of lottery luck
to all that struggle
unjust .
99 percent of things
I re-invent
because they're so boring
but most of the time
to get close , to see you smile
this is all I need , minus greed
just a bit of you , sometimes .
will do for me
as you light my skies, moonbeams
engraved those eyes
to match the seas
of sunrise fire
what you are to me
can never expire
the energy , that you leave
atomically
transforms my being higher .
.
Anonymous
Black Swan Moon
bruised night hit
fast plumes split
dark glory lit
She did not hear it
shadow lace
cobwebbed face
wrinkled grace
She did not feel it
melting mist
licked silver wrist
heart thorns twist
She did not breathe it
but I did
Now this bird is mine
bruised night hit
fast plumes split
dark glory lit
She did not hear it
shadow lace
cobwebbed face
wrinkled grace
She did not feel it
melting mist
licked silver wrist
heart thorns twist
She did not breathe it
but I did
Now this bird is mine
Anonymous
<< post removed >>
Mindless Tongues
Mindless tongues whisper sweet nothings.
Handless arms grab at your face.
Toeless feet dance gracefully en point,
And a gutless fool just ate.
They talk about cherries and cakes.
Saying 'Im right!' but theyre not.
They kick the spoiled eggs under their feet
to hide them from view just in case.
'Trust us' they say with lizard lips.
'Why dont you believe us?' with crocodile eyes.
'Its for your own good' with a rooster tail,
And walk away with smugly swaying hips.
Mindless tongues whisper white lies.
Handless arms still manage to steal.
Toeless feet dance gracefully en point,
and the gutless fool should die.
Mindless tongues whisper sweet nothings.
Handless arms grab at your face.
Toeless feet dance gracefully en point,
And a gutless fool just ate.
They talk about cherries and cakes.
Saying 'Im right!' but theyre not.
They kick the spoiled eggs under their feet
to hide them from view just in case.
'Trust us' they say with lizard lips.
'Why dont you believe us?' with crocodile eyes.
'Its for your own good' with a rooster tail,
And walk away with smugly swaying hips.
Mindless tongues whisper white lies.
Handless arms still manage to steal.
Toeless feet dance gracefully en point,
and the gutless fool should die.
Hot-dogs In The Air
There's a Hotdog
in the air
and a smiling Frog
who really doesn't
care
I think I'm lost
just like a sun
covered in frost
where I begun
has now grown moss
and my head's spun
but hasn't stopped .
This is me
in full sobriety
I'm really normal
if you're on weed
I'm a tad informal
not bad
maybe a handful
my land ,is that
of Hippos
not bland
where only few do go .
There's a Hotdog
in the air
and a smiling Frog
who really doesn't
care
I think I'm lost
just like a sun
covered in frost
where I begun
has now grown moss
and my head's spun
but hasn't stopped .
This is me
in full sobriety
I'm really normal
if you're on weed
I'm a tad informal
not bad
maybe a handful
my land ,is that
of Hippos
not bland
where only few do go .
You're An *Asterix* With Coned Attire
Did you think
I didn't know
you basilisk
you're no bro
just an asterix
in print studded show .
Puppets dangle
procariously
I'm no muppet entangled
who cannot see
acute is my angle
that bends your tree
re-shoot the handgun
you can't kill me
futile is the anger
of wannabes
now pick the pasture
or extremity
being the place I'll cast you
out , to be buried .
Your coned head attire
makes you prone
to my fire
this zone I control
just walk the wire .
Did you think
I didn't know
you basilisk
you're no bro
just an asterix
in print studded show .
Puppets dangle
procariously
I'm no muppet entangled
who cannot see
acute is my angle
that bends your tree
re-shoot the handgun
you can't kill me
futile is the anger
of wannabes
now pick the pasture
or extremity
being the place I'll cast you
out , to be buried .
Your coned head attire
makes you prone
to my fire
this zone I control
just walk the wire .
