Posted by admin on October 9, 2009
The drip of red
on black canvas.
Not dye now, it slowly
falls.
Wonder at the hands,
hurt or nothing,
just the crimson
ebb.
The painted dark square
of life toils endlessly
to receive the scarlet
flow.
Tears would cover pain,
mingle with and purify,
but there is no peace-white
drop.
The hand is crushed.
Dark red flows endlessly.
Now rushing, bright red spatters,
canvas scatters, hopes
fly.
Boiling up now, clear drops
bring relief, lightning
flashes, cold silence
streaks.
Passion ends in tainted
scarlet hue. Blood
saves the man whose heart
bleeds.
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Posted by admin on October 7, 2009
Sandy walls built high to protect
the onslaught of wrecked senses.
Psychotic waves restless in the night
Do little to help the granite shield.
Open the gate. No! The portal is shut.
Feelings lash out and are crushed
By iron whips of self consciousness.
Alone.
Not alone. Not single, not complete.
The sandy walls wish to fall,
Threaten privacy, but are held.
Fear bars the way, cold impdiments
To continuity.
Alone.
Beaten down, the foundation
Lingers still to haunt the one
Who made them fall. Dark rings to
Remind how much it hurt to be
Free. But never escaped the
Chains of fear. Walls do not hold him
Alone.
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Posted by admin on September 30, 2009
Suddenly there came a thought
As I sat, guided by a silent ray,
To go, to share, to help and pray,
I felt full of desire,
To shine for the world,
But I knew I could not rise.
My inner shell is too tight,
As I sit, still like a brick and listen.
Sparkling insights dance and glisten,
Along the length of my soul.
The spark calls to me.
But no, I must stay instead.
And give my light in drops,
Tiny but effective,
To burn away the loss,
Of those
who need,
or hurt,
or want,
Who pass,
unseen,
unheard,
unloved,
My way,
at home,
at school,
at play.
I will give my light
Free to all who would come until
I am fulfilled, and none
Are left empty, all
Are full.
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Posted by admin on September 11, 2009
Fits rock bright days
when the black rain
comes down. My head
hurts so much. Rainbow
drops will spill
my life blood
pumps the agony
further along. Hurt
feels the poison collect
in tiny dark pools
inside. Like gators
come to feed,
the hurts
fling themselves
on My battered psyche.
The reptilian voices
ring and beat
the waves
that seek to drown
my head. But the whales
of hope drift
over to the gentle
shores. Hopes drag
only a few strands
of hot seaweed
to blank the stares
of fits that bind
when the rain falls
black.
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Posted by admin on September 4, 2009
The simpleness of insanity
is reflected in golden green
when tin’s polluted face beams
up at the passerby from the pond.
The deft hand of embarrassment
then claims his victim’s senses
as he (the victim) comprehends
the trash we fling at the gods.
Cere’s loving harvest gift
is brought up and pummeled
to make candy bars and rubble
sing the woes of unjust hogs.
The blight of man hovers o’er creation
like shades in the warmth of evening,
and creature stops great, starts believing
the crass counsel of foolish pawns.
Reason unreasonable, unreadable,
credulous, penniless, proken in pity,
becomes the forte of insecurity
while new algae covers the frogs.
Heavy with the fear of understanding
the victim turns his countenance
away from dark circumstance
to find a more apathetic god.
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Posted by admin on July 3, 2009
Tiptoes,
Sliptoes,
Don’t step on my toes.
No heels,
Slow heels,
Careful with the pills.
Quiet,
Silent,
Screeming to hide it.
Lash out,
Crash out,
Watching you check out.
You try,
We cry,
They hear all your lies.
I slip,
I trip,
You lose your last grip.
Your words,
Your curse,
Hands, anger over burst.
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Posted by admin on June 5, 2009
There is no darkness in my heart,
Only shadows have lost their way.
The mind, the craze,
the simple thought
That brings to me a lighter sense
I love, I know,
but not quite right
A twisted form of midnight light.
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Posted by admin on May 29, 2009
Live and serve,
Love and give.
This is what He taught us.
That pain and hate,
Spite and hurt
Have grief and sorrow brought us.
Work until the work is done,
Love until love alone goes on,
Suffer for His suffering,
Try, do impossible things.
Then when its done,
Through and through.
Hope will come, the strife will end.
The new age begin,
Millennial hope come,
When born up in the first resurrection.
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Posted by admin on May 8, 2009
Some people say the world has gone to pot.
I’m not sure I entirely agree,
But I’m not going to say anything either.
I’m just going to sit here and live me
fantasies and let the world go by.
Life and death are nothing.
I will live equally whatever happens.
The nation is gone, and others also.
But I know that in places things are different.
I have visited those happy realms.
I have felt the euphoria of utopia.
I know.
I feel.
I sense.
I understand.
I am.
Some people say the world has gone to pot.
I’m not crazy, I try not to be.
But some things must be said.
Some things must change a lot.
I imagine we are too far gone.
Despite my acts, even though I get involved
Are we really going to save life at all?
Is hope entirely gone, or can we still
Save those elsewhere who were lost long ago?
I try to see the dissapointed place.
I feel the loss of distopia.
I’m unsure.
I’m numb.
I’m cold.
I’m lost.
I’m not.
Some people say the world has gone to pot.
They are right. Or not.
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Posted by admin on April 8, 2009
I saw you walking yesterday.
Today you are in the newspaper.
Many times I wondered at your quietness,
And why you always sat so far off in the corner.
My frineds and I had lunch and talked,
While you usually ate apart,
Sometimes we discussed your quiet manner;
Your ways always seemed difficult to understand.
You and I were never really acquainted,
Although you were always just across the street.
And we met each morning and each afternoon,
I never thought we might actually talk,
Or say more than “Hello,” and “good-bye.”
Now I know that when I saw you walking yesterday,
I should have stopped and said something to help,
So that maybe you wouldn’t have killed yourself.
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