Tag Archives: #fear

Morning’s Passion

And when morning is upon you

It’s like a blessing from God

Hear His voice, He will speak your thoughts

He gives the heart a reason to sing His praise

Who could this save but You through the One

Whose Name we long to speak

Hear the voice of His Spirit, Holy Spirit

Sing His praise for all

And we praise the morning dew and all the world

We praise the heart and soul! Like the first

morning’s petals flowered. Praise for life,

praise for the morning and a passion for Life!

:: 06.22.2022 ::


Bifurcated Thoughts

WHAT is that __
               \
                I am sad or happy]\
? “come on…” talks like a possum
oh Karma arrested police makes me feel\
  –? if it’s what you feel;  if it’s
what Kings and Queens dealt;  oh Night
camera-pareidolia / its what we eat
and what we digest in memories }}oh
forever i lost myself inside time
and space || many little ones \ oh
forget and forgive religion and
all sense of self –P{r}etty\
flesh cave inside the world.

And the world keeps on raining
all the graves opening to begin
again.

: 11.07;2021 ::


Sand Castle Within a Storm

THROUGH the valley of time
across the sphere of space
watching light dissipate
i still recall the taste
of the fallen tears from
your mouth ringing within
my heart ~~ lapping up
crashing waves of despair

How the most favorite dreams
of you wash ashore inside my head
I keep them all within my box
of cedar wood / thinking of just
one thing — souls make this happen
and sometimes i wish it’d go away.

this thing’s slowly ebbing me away
as a sand castle caught within
a storm.

:: 06.22.2022 ::


THE DEEP SEA DREAM

As the wave erupts and floods you in your sleep.
Imperceptibly you slide towards the madness of dreams.
You feel the sticky dampness of a nightmare.
Your dilated eyes as magnet tar pit traps drowning in white ocean.
The wave of sleep reaches up to hug you gently,
holding your limbs. Taut, anchored to the bed.
your brain without moorings off your paralyzed tongue ~~
the waves finally drowning you in the coolness of dreams
beyond all fathoms.

:: 06.19.2022 ::


MYSTERIOUS POETRY

I tell. I reach. You can try to give me peace. I am in deep mud. Hypnotized.
Inside. A reaching called trying. I’m in love with poetry so wonderful
each word brings me to my knees.

It’s a miracle of hysteria — I don’t need love so I believe when Love opens
wide —– from leaving me; i want to know tonight if you can stop this feeling
oh this fire — a spiritual healing of loving in mysterious feelings.

Oh babe.
Hysteria.
When you’re near.

i’m in love! Each word takes me to my knees. I’ve got to know tonight if these feelings
are mysterious hysteria — so magical and mysterious i start to put hand on pen and
write. Words.

Like my dreams — of her. When you’re near. Strawberry ice cream yeah — you can hide,
a one-way street. I hold and open wide ; take me in my head / leaving \ so stop
this fire of a magical mysterious feeling (it’s a miracle seeing you in my dreams)

Can you understand believing (i see you) hysteria when you’re near.

I lean into you – you hide. Oh! You’re alone tonight and can we stop this feeling of Poetry?
So magical and mysterious.

Wo we beat on, writing words against the current of life, bearing against
past life.

:: 06.15.2022 ::


MARITIME DRAMA

Ocean waves speak to me after a long travel

submersed fish kissing me when you’re hungry

Atlantic clouds rain ships have set a course

toward my shores and your thoughtless words

have broken my bow breaking my heart

A hidden philosophy freezing my soul out in this Ocean

and these games are tearing me apart / coast guard

brave team who try to save this soul ~~ but the ocean

knows our sails and ropes

So to pray  is to nature or God or to another One

but when it comes who will save your Soul.

:: 06.09.2022 ::


THE FOREVER TRIBE

THE forest is only a shade; once the shadows shed and were-beasts lost are sad; then the leaves are torn off their trees to see the true worth.

No matter where the deer may roam, she looks for a tree and i hold her so sweetly.
I am the tree she depends on. The tree in her heart. I am always there. You are my Queen, i am your river!

The pale blue chalky water stared at the bottom with her shiny black shoes the color of her cheeks. Her shiny white bag that was not much bigger than her body with all her clothes folded neatly inside. Her pretty flowing dress and sweet smile and the pink, frothy lips.

“Dalal, Dalal, do you ever run out of things to do? Like books to read or stories to read to your children?”

She looked at her friend Elie and realized that this man who has been her only friend in three years had always been a good listener. They had arrived at the secluded spot to start their day with a little chatter and conversation.

“You can tell me your stories anytime, Dalal,” Elie said, reading the expression on her face.
She thought he looked pleased, the way he grinned from one corner of his mouth. “I don’t have much to do these days.

I always wanted to learn how to write. So I’ll start today.”

He had already unfolded his long legs from under the wide tree roots, and was looking up to the brilliant blue sky.

“We just arrived in The Forever Land, and the first thing I did was look for the post office, to send my wife and children pictures of the sea. She used to spend hours studying the pictures she had gotten off the internet. And here I am without a good job or money, with no travel opportunities.”

She asked him to tell her about the culture here. “The Forever People are a very friendly and trusting people. And they have this song they sing, very sad. It means, never love anyone but your family. And you never think you’ll find the one you’re meant to love until you get so old that you forget to fall in love. And then the special day comes, and you love again and fall asleep with a smile on your face.”

:: 03.29.2022 ::


NOTHING SURVIVED

NOTHING survived.

 Yet i live.

Or is it that everyone
survived but i died?

Walking the chalk line
of homicide-art upon
a wet empty alley
in NYC I wanted to smoke.

No funnel of light.
No friends or family
members greeted me.

Just blood, brains,
and fear.

My face.  It left me.
Yet my hands were in
my pockets.  

If this be death then
death was kind.

Across the way, a diner.
I saw people-things
through the windows.

“gimme a cup of coffee.”
You look sore for the eyes
said the server.

One of her arms was missing.

The girl next to me had
something terribly wrong
with her back. That one eye
stared beyond me; made me
turn around to see what she
must have been looking at.

“Make that a scotch instead”
I croaked.

Nothing survived.  Yet I live.

:: 03.18.2022 ::


O U R O B O R O S

a strung-out song

a pit-angel trap

green as money

without feeling

sang the fat

evil thought

ramming inside

the white cave

of my dilapidated

skull.

how can any artist

sell out for fame

is beyond me.

i know i must be

mentally unwell

but need for money

was never the cause

for my derangement.

I blame my dreams.

My dreams are

OUROBOROS.

a divine pain. Inside

my throat.  Beneath

my head inside my

stomach. 

:: 03.18.2022 ::


‘S SOIL MIXED IN TEARS AND STARS

I darted madly into the rain and hail
that fell in little clouds which
felt as tears from the torrents
of dying souls from this storm:

Leaping out from the storm
I found my children:
one upon a wet pillow
another within the bough.

I began my direction
above the beach,
down across the fields
I darted through the rain
all I wanted was a daughter
my gripping hands lost
to be my sweet self.

But, when she came
I had to make more
than a ditch
even I was a little older
and wiser
like a mother
in the shadow of my childhood
not so young anymore

:: 03.18.2022 ::

I lay in my bed
when they came
for to me.

Whispering not a word
with gleaming eyes
as silver came
to me and those others
those come from the stars
they turned my heart and home
into a zoo

like a slaughter house
of freaks.

:: 03.18.2022 ::