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 Post subject: poems
PostPosted: Fri Apr 29, 2005 7:10 am 
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Hello, my name is Rick Jones.
I saved a few pages of poetry from the "official" forum.
Some of this poetry has really inspired and uplifted me in the last few months. I am posting it un-edited. I archived in text files, so some of the information is lost, but the words are intact.
I have to do some digging around in my computor files because I have more I saved in here somewhere.
For now, for those who may want to read some poetry, I will post what I have saved.
============
I have also been very drawn to the poetry, I think it has spoken to me the most...
Here are a couple of mine...the first one has already been published (my first!:-) I would love to see others share their poetry too!

Dancing Stars

For you alone I journeyed to this place.
No hesitation, understanding full well
The risk


My love for you has no boundaries.
No beginning, and never an ending.
One beat.


I am humbled by your perseverance.
No faults, just an emblazoned spirit
A heart.


The shining sword is afire at your hip.
No judging, for it is a tool to cut through
The veil.


My chalice awaits the fleeting moment.
No evil, for the filling up of your essence
Is truth.


Time has woven us into this script.
No circle, this is a spiral that dances around
And Up.


Our dance is soon to begin my love.
No withholding, our scene is being called.
The music.


I feel your essence approaching close.
Never separate, just a curtain pulled before
Our eye.


Copyright © February 2002 Dawn Parker

And....

Mother Earth


Your elements surge
through my veins.
Making you...
A part of me.

Where do you end
and I begin?
For you are the womb
that I am in.

From your PHIre
minerals came forth.
The dirt of man
is found in my blood.

EyeRon and C(see)all*see*em too,
Yes I SEE!
The magic and the wonder
is everywhere...

The spiral, the charge
that I ride.
A brillant tornado
within my heart.

The mirrors, hilarious.
Thanks for the belly
laughs, how perfect
is the unfolding.

The clues...our connection
are everywhere!
Why did it take me
so long to SEE?

My breath is joined
with yours.
I will assist you with
our birth, into the one verse.

Thanks Mom!

Copyright © February 2002 Dawn Parker

"If we all did what we are capable of doing, we would literally astound ourselves..." ~Thomas A. Edison




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It is better to light a candle, no matter how small... than to curse the darkness. ~Unknown

Kirabo
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Wonderful Thirteen 4:34 PM 3/22/2002


these are very heartfelt and well written,
What ia amazing as I was searching for a journal of dreams and vision I had a came across an old diskette labeled poetry. Some of the poems are about 10-12 years old I will go through some and post here

this one is kind of dark...

"Inferno"

I have a dream;
A fine light sun and gentle air.
Soft warm grass.
Without things to do,
All things are done.
No rush, No deeds, No occupation
No life...

A peace full hell in which to stay.
Among the dead and those that sleep.

This next one is very angry. I wrote around the time of the Gulf War. It maybe difficult to follow because of the anger that was in me and when I tried to rewrite it I lost the passion in it
"Fables"
Once upon a time when they were young
They spoke of things unnoticed
they spoke of things unheld
They shouted against death and war and government
Once upon a time when the young spoke out
against suits & hair & rules
When even the ones that taught
bent an ear to hear
Once upon a time when they were young

Where are those that made me listen
That listened to me
I don't remember names
Their ideas stay with me.
Another war, another place, another memorial
This time in the sand.
It's where all true memorials are
Dust & sand
Sand won't hold the names like marble
Maybe it's fitting since the youth won't
stay young




--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Don’t be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey






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My Heart Swells 6:17 PM 3/22/2002


I am amoung my forgotten selves
Reborn into a clearer knowledge
I hear my own heart in your words
I am Free...from lonelyness - Forever!
Thank You
William

~°~
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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Apr 29, 2005 7:13 am 
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Continued with more poetry.
~~~

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a quick one
11:28 AM 3/23/2002




...fresh out the oven...
I surrounded myself in a pillar of light
and it gave me such a fright
so I coloured it green
or so it would seem
and that fear
became delight

Kirabo
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My Week
4:10 PM 3/23/2002




(this one is still a work in progress, it has no rythm, but I guess neither does my week )
I hate Mondays
Totally detest first days.
Loathsome, bothersome,
boring, tiring weakday.
False smiles, strained styles
faces made up.
Wishes of elswhere
working for daycare.
I hate Mondays
Day after Sundays
Wish I were one day behind.
I groan through Tuesdays
Routine in full swing
Not part of my being
this stupid work thing
A Second day that's more of the first day's
Not wanted to do.
Tuesday's full of do's do's
much harder than first day cause first day's lack of results.
Wednsdays are boring could do it while snoring 3rd day's productive
nothing more seductive than the promise of two days off.
Thursdays allright
might party tonight
I could survive Friday hungover
Freedom's ahead glad I'm not dead
.
Thursday's just fine any old time
The weekends insight and it's definitely mine
Friday just great
allright to be late
Lunchtime starts at eleven.
Traffic's allright can't get me up tight
Cause Friday's meant to be cool
Saturday in turn is just made to burn
A time to relax with homework
Saturday night is a time to be light
A time to look like a jefk
Sundays the best allowed just to rest
To sit back and home for the day
The works all done
another week to come
Oh well what can I say.


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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a very dark poem
6:43 PM 3/23/2002




(Taken from some of the darker experiences I have had)

The birth of the Bastard, the fatherless bore
It tears at the soul always asking for more
The birth of the bastard. no mother in sight
born in the darkness hating the light
The mating is singular
Like a worm with both sexes.
A justation starting with a single word, look or gesture.
Taking with it time and promise.
My meaningless menstruated malady.
Grows as an embryo of unknown birth rite
A furious gestering feeling of anger.
The bastard grows inside of me.
It destroys humor grace or deity.
No visual beauty will still the bastard as it grows.
It wallows in hatred and sullen envy.
Swimming in the fluid of unreturned insults.,
Waiting to avenge a world of imagined injuries
And restore its clouded honor with morbid desires.
I feel it kick inside of me.
The bastard fights to be premature.
My breast fill with a caustic liquid.
It prepares its needs for birth.
I watch my emotions as they contort
And strain against the angry contractions.
There is no scream upon delivery
Its laid upon my chest and tries to suckle
I deny it as my offspring
And denounce the bastard to the world.
The birth of the Bastard, the fatherless bore
It tears at the soul always asking for more
The birth of the bastard. no mother in sight
born in the darkness hating the light


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

xretsim
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..anoth
8:19 PM 3/23/2002




er...

the time has come
for things to become
what they are
and not what they should have been

Kirabo
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before the fall
12:10 AM 4/8/2002




The devil it is to search these walls
The demons protect and I donâ&#8364;(tm)t mind at all.
The passage is there yet it is so small
The coming of man before the fall.
Churches, missions, chapels small
Echoes of shadows in Cathedral halls
Mountains adorned in a winter shawl
The coming of man before the fall
The spirit of ages stand so tall
Guides of angels sound the call
Gods and monsters bounce the ball
The coming of man before the fall
The saints in heaven led by Paul
The demons of hell despicable
Decide to meet in old Nepal
The coming of man before the fall.
Chanting the words with such a drawl
They chorus their torment and are enthralled
Watching the distance for signs of Saul
The coming of man before the fall.
Its over to soon, an empty stall
The demons do leave, spirits are pall.
Gods and monsters leave the krawl
The coming of man before the fall
Chop wood...get water...Divine REVELATION...Chop wood...get water


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Here is a poem I wrote that relates to the Wingmakers Philosophy
1:06 PM 4/8/2002




Visions Of Eternity
Alone inside a vision shall grow,
Grateful and aware, now love starts to glow,
Seperate from one yet uniting us all,
Collapsing the darkness, this barrier will fall.

Our souls will pulsate with a luminous light,
Portraying this vision, maintained with our might,
Forever remembering the intuition to find,
Regaining the insight, it is so true and so kind.
A blessing from your heart will act as the sign,
Dreams of the spirit, that allows us to shine,
With the shimmering brilliance of a distant star,
Yearning to guide us inwards, on a voyage not far.

Outside and within my energy will flow,
I think and I pray, deep inside we all know,
That emotion and feelings will give us true sight,
Painting us an image, so strange yet so bright.

Mick Green - 5/4/2002


Heart and Courage
Kirabo
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E
8:52 PM 4/23/2002




While enclosed in conformity
Mistaught voluntarily
To be punished for eternity

Herded towards normality
Else defined equality
Forsaking personality

I found a different frequency
Not dedicated dogmatically
To human sin originally.

My choices found internally
Were contradicted finally
By truth learned mistakenly

The ages of antiquity
Marched forward most sincerely
And genuflected gracefully.

Towards Cheapen Views externally
While Time endured patiently
Answers surfaced finally.

The air is freshened naturally
Knowledge cleansed entirely
The need for selfish secrecy.

Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together All things connect.
-Chief Seattle-




Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

HammerOfJustice
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I'm back with a big hello!
1:55 AM 4/27/2002




So much has been occuring in my life over the past few weeks with moving house and also a change of jobs. I had not had any access to the internet since moving house until yesterday when my sister and I organised a connection on her iMac computer. For the previous 3 years I had been working for my friend Duncan Roads who publishes the 'NEXUS Magazine' here in Australia.(Duncan's friendship and thoughtful personality has been a blessing to me over the years). I have now made my transition into the Youth Support area of work, where I will be helping out a young lad who has been faced with some major challenges in his life. I feel very much that this 'work' that I will be involved in will be a spiritual treasure to me in disquise and am looking forward to facing all of lifes challenges that are sure to face me in the near future. I would just like to thank all of the people involved with this great discussion board for allowing me to share in all of your good thoughts and feelings regarding this grand experience we call life.
With the energy of friendship and love,
From Mick.
The following is my newest poem that I have written since commencing my new endeavour.


INWARD SIGHT

Oh precious spirit, dear heart of truth
Inward in your vision but shining outside
May the radiant light of hope glow in your mind
A soulful ear can surpass the worlds silence
I am blessed to have met you as a friend
My path will now join your journey so pure.

A grateful quest to a mysterious realm
Hand in hand we tread together this day
United in motion embracing our goal
Step by step on a journey towards a source
An element of love from all innate breath
Your glorious light glows from the depths of time.

A presence so deep awakens my mind
Secret corridors from a distant land
Provisions of meaning held from above
Supplying inner chambers of silent vision
We yearn to perceive this body of wisdom
To feel your spirit ingrained with life.

Mystical Angels of ascension
Your sacred mission is the dawn of our awareness
Your dreams are unknown to their hearts
Please deliver us from the worlds darkness
For whom shall we forgive for these limitations
Unbroken shackles that we shall forever severe.

Be not confused by their forgeries of truth
For sincerity of motive is always known
I am so tired of this cloak of sight
Please help me to burn it away
Incineration of forced delusions
The remnants of it that lie at my feet
I push further through the shattered debris.

Cleaning away the dust and cobwebs
The hidden mockery of humanity will vanish
Revealing the purity of truth
For all to know,
For all to embrace,
For all to love.



Mick Green 18/4/02


Heart and Courage
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Great Poem Mick
2:11 AM 4/27/2002




Hey! There is always a seat at our table!

Thank yourself for sharing you event strings with The Team!

PuPPet

~°~
×

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri Apr 29, 2005 7:17 am 
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Location: The Right side of Lemuria
viking worship
"Hemp oil," you say.
"Yeah, that's it,"



Crawling on little cat feet,
my life as a Broadway
A masquerade of weensy elephants
A band of epic mice



Contradictory ironies,
perplexing oxymorons
WILD FLOWERS,
from the view of a nautious passenger



Its a green green room,
with no walls



-->So indulge in your...
Fortified Sunrise, and
...cram those rusty springs
further down my throat.



Empty soda cans... Empty soda cans!



Mark my bedspread, and
encrypt your name
Drag that fancy pen across my whitewashed pane.



Grab a paint pen.. Grab a paint pen!
Secreted ink against your blackened finger tips...
They haunt my wall.



Please haunt my wall.

Kimi ga daisuki desu by Vel-chan

Your kindness
It gives me the power to fly
Your smile
It makes me warm, and yet I shiver
Your touch
Causes me to melt
Your trust
Makes me feel safe
Your honesty
Makes me believe
Your love
Your friendship
Yours truly,
Vel-chan
Daisuki desu

clyan_bunnies

------------
Easy to Find
I have often looked inside my drawers
without knowing why.
Something called out.
Seek me and you shall find,
but when I obey I'm confounded by memory's fleeting ways.
Hands immerse and return awkwardly empty
like a runaway child
when no one came after them.
I know there is something I seek
that hides from me so I can't think about what I lack.
It is, however, and this is the point, too dang powerful
to be silent and still.
Besides, I know I lack it because I miss it.
I miss it.
Whatever "it" is.
Whatever I need it to be it is not that.
It can never be anything but what it is.
And so I search in drawers and closets absent of why,
driven like a machine whose switch has been thrown
just because it can.
I miss it.
I wish it could find me.
Maybe I need to stay put long enough for it to do so.
Now there's a switch.
Let the powerful "it" seek me out.
But for how long must I wait?
And how will I recognize it should it find me?
There must be names for this condition that end in phobia.
dang, I hate that suffix.
It all starts with a sense of wonder and ends in a sense of emptiness.
God, I wish you could find me here.
I'll tuck myself in a little drawer right out in the open.
I won't bury myself under incidentals.
I'll be right on top.
Easy to find.
Do you need me for anything?
I hope so because I need you for everything.
~
More soon(ish)
Love,
Rick

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Apr 30, 2005 2:06 pm 
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Location: The Right side of Lemuria
By Caelum.

"to all.
A blue princess in a blue room,
where ruler of men work,
has whispered an infinite story in a few sentences to a dreamer&#8217;s dream-self via its dream-self:
There is a tree.
It drops its seeds to the ground.
Seeds grow merging with four elements.
They all have the potential of becoming new trees.
All seeds are holographic trees with their source codes.
They live on the tree,
They fall,
And they become trees.
When they become newly grown trees, they live to give birth to new seeds.
Trees, seeds with their source codes, leaves, falls, trees, seeds with their source codes, leaves, falls...
And it goes on...and on...
Forever&#8230;
and ever.

Type -0- Heavens = Part of the tree where leaves wait and play before the fall
Fall = When they choose to become trees and give birth to seeds
Type 0-0 Heavens= Where trees live and who they are "

"Fruit"
by me: Rick Jones

Fruit:
such distance from our spires of the wise
to my diamond sturdiness of our ground
unwashed teachers once went to the river
to feel lighter in our minds
to wash away our past
to uncover the lines in our palms
soon to be filled with fateful pools
such heights from our chambers of the self improved
detecting imperfections in the surface of the worthy
looking at the shapes that she created
deeming them unworthy of the gates of the wise
charting with care our direction of the solidity of human repose
drawing lines of a vast netted crate
to carry our souls to everlasting control
where rings above your head choke the passages of our liberty
soon to lift reason above our heart again
like the last time
so very long ago
from the ground to our sky
dictating our passages
charting our missions
closing the doors to our wise forever
by the unrepentant and unredeemed
confines of our structured teachers
beckoning souls to come from behind our closed gates
imprisoned in our newly written doctrines
quotient of heaven and our tally of the abyss
soon to be redrawn again
by our hands
descending from our lofty position for moments
not only to dispense them with our new revelations of upcast eyes
we have come to taste the ground we have never stood upon
we dim our lights to see the diamonds in our ground
we have come to taste our fruits of incarnation
yes it is our souls returned to us
yes it is the very descent of our highest personage
our ascent of the flesh rises
so that heaven can taste the ground
so that our spirit may taste the fruits of our Earth
so long chained in clouds
so long boxed in above rungs
so high up that ladder to our skyscrapers of heaven
our forbidden fruits outcast from heavenly brows of reasoning
our heretical activities of the flesh
to become one
with the drama of attachments
down
down to the ground
where we are
we are split by the long road behind and segmented into component parts
Archangels with mighty axes hacking up the pieces of our souls
counting the rungs in us like trees
accounting our ages by the seals inside our bones
dictated by sages given to us by passing ages
clouding our ages reason with more complication
of how to walk the path we chose for ourselves
carved into selected pieces and examined by ghosts of our mythical gods
peering from clouds our children smiling from our distance of ages
behind our before
simple and knowing in our demeanor
complex in our focused now
so to grasp the vines of our past
to taste the fruits of our history
soon to be in little palms clasping our present
forbidden fruits lie everywhere
scattered across dozens of light years
a river of ghastly thoughts from our ancestors
passions of knowledge hewn from our old stones
threats of our hearts of women and men shot like arrows
at who knows who?
wherever they may land...
upon the ground
forbidden feelings in our now
forbidden knowledge of our past
forbidden tastes of our expansion and breath
forbidden knowledge from our distant clouds of eternity
holding back all our points
to the our abyss
we will connect our dots and fill in the spaces of our etherial wings
for we have the lessons of eternity in our veins
the simplicity of our mutual nurtured heart
we are the first
our children
have come to look for our past at last
such distance from a cloud to our ground
separation by a sound and a single breath
lifting to our reasoning of higher sources in diamonds in our ground
solid and twinkling in chambers of all our hearts
bright shining light glaring against any hopelessness
lifting eyes again to our distant stars
that are staring back
looking upon the cages of our reason
looking at the strings of our actions cascading over vast cliffsides
looking and longing to embrace our solidity
upon the Earth our feet stand
erect our backs we come forth
standing in the glittering vast distance
peering into spaces between that once separated our light from us
looking to our trees and pastures
invading the sanctity of our homes
looking for the forbidden passions of embers that died long ago
passions cooled by the passing of our hours looking to our heat
cool stars passing judgment on our ground
as our winter soil waits for spring
as our soil melts with the rays of each days sunrise
under the reflection of our Yule jade moon
tasting the passions of the flame in our veins
confronting our past in the eyes of our young on two feet
connecting with the ways of our minds
feeling the empathy for our projections
doubts
fears
corrections
forbidden feelings of long ago
felt by distant cooling star clusters
bursting in the veins of heaven
soon to ignite a long forgotten heart in our long robes
the hues of mankind coloring in heaven like a childrens book
with crayon emanations from our simple hearts
of Earth
from the sky of our tomorrows to the cliffsides of yesterdays
lines connect us at a level known to all new mothers
holding her infant for the very first time
in our hearts the feeling of compassion
in our eyes the sights of the sky
in our feet roots to our past
at our waists the our sorrows of past love and the invigoration of our mates
in our center the wonderment of secret roots to eternity
our throats speak what truth our imperfect bodies may convey
in the languages of our day
we are crowned by whatever we feel worthy of
we feel worthy of heavens smile this day
only our wings seem to be missing :
if you were to compare us to heaven's watch
soon to collect our last sorrows
bundle them up like a big old ball of yarn
and cast them back to the chambers of forever
back to our sky
for it was requested from us
all our forbidden thoughts and feelings
cast back to what got us here
to our sky
soon to get our biggest yarn of all
~
Love, Rick

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 Post subject: 16 lost poems and one image
PostPosted: Sun May 01, 2005 8:20 pm 
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Location: The Right side of Lemuria
Myth
Light
Right Action
~
My Master told me, once, if you find yoursef at a crossroads, with many paths, always take the rockiest road, you will always learn more.
~~
I had a Master once, now, I am free.
~~~
3 and a half:

perfect songs
tantamount to freedom
hear our hearts
sing
~~~~
a song of life:

that prickly old horned god
will always make us dance
with the music of our revelry
or the amusement in our hearts
drunk on excitement
drunk on the pleasures of his dance
once on the road I spied the dancing man
masked and adorned with his summer horns
all awash with the light of the day
his furry ankles jangled with bells
his feet clicked and clacked on branches
piping song into the forest
into the trees
right into their wood
he sang away the day right into the night as we listened
chords from the trees rang out in the breeze
into the roots of trees who sang to rivers and streams
song flooded out to the sea below
he piped a tune no mortal had yet heard
from the forest where he dwells
even distant fishes heard the call to dance away the night
all the forest spirits were lighting his path
the blue lit night sang out a call to all beasts
some men heard the call deep in their bones
wood cutters heard it in their axes
their dogs howled at their wilder roaming brothers
farmers felt it in their bones and rubbed their beards
he could have sworn he heard something under the boards of his house
it might have been a rat
except rats seldom humm
it may have been something more

exotic

the preacher closed his shutters
birds outside his window sang a long night lament for missing chiclets
the early slumbering baker dreamt of singing pastries
his daughter saw her future husband from across a mirrored hall of dreams
the singing man stopped at the call of dawn
and hailed the new day and rose his pipe again
singing awake another side of his forest
on the other side of the globe
he skipped and danced away on the forest path
I saw a shimmering shadow reflection from between the shadows of trees
my shadow was returning to me
from this night of revelry
was it a man upon the road
or was it me?
I felt a song leap into my chest from the cold hallow of trees
I hummed a tune on my way home
and watched my shadow closely as I stepped over the cracks on the concrete
it didn't seem to dance any skipping steps more than I
if you watch your shadow closely on full moons
we may seem to notice it walking just a bit faster than us
grey street step cracks go by
one step two steps three
skipping past the cracks in the pavement
a step to the right
a skip to the left
all the way down the road
fallowing just behind
your shadow self
lingering on the ground
your shadow knows what you have forgotten
it dances with mystery when you sleep
it sings out to the night to distance and other shadow selves
at midnight you may have heard it sing to you if you listen close
singing to the forest goddess in a young girl
singing to another horned god slumbering in his bed
these shadow songs mingle somewhere together
beyond the ears of waking mortals
just out of reach for any instrument to gauge
together this song reaches out to all points
they echo back to where they begun
reverberating with the momentum of all the vast songs unsung by waking hearts
together they sound out a single note of resonence and harmony
with every shudder in the hearts of dear ones
when they know something has happened to their family
in every wavering in the voice of liars
in the tremolo in the discussions of men haunted by the ghost of their lovers
in the stammer of the mistrusted wife
this sound picks up these words as they travel
multiplying a single song
traveling down the gutters of the cities and into the pipes below
through the electrical wires across all lands
through the fissures of the Earth
through crystalline deposits between hidden spaces
it comes up and sings out to wherever it is darkest that night
singing out a call in the darkness to all other songs of like kind
the piping wooded singing men who know
weave this song into patterns
at best sometimes it will seem a lament
some wood songs are for the memories of our past
lingering any lost love gathering together to commune with this single sound
our dark song together
in this song of all that is mystery
all that is unaccountable
together with all that seems truest in our hearts
a wild song of love
a humble song for what we have and all we are
songs of brothers to our sisters who are far away
songs of fathers to our daughters who seldom call
songs of cousins of dark hearts
to lament all we tried in vain to love
songs from boys softly crying into pillows
songs of lonely girls watching the sky from bedroom windows
all sounds gather in the night
a vast shadow falls across the world
and sings away our past
when it returns
it stirs us
it lifts our spirits
a call to our inner voice to sing it all out
all emotions become liberated and valid
and free
free songs of our hearts at last
joined in every tearful reunion
joined with every union of love this night
mingling with a lament from a lover recalling an anniversary
gathering speed with the impatience of young lovers separated by distances
whatever is felt true from hearts that tried so hard to love
hearts that feel from cool cheeks stained by tears
like a draft in the room it reaches us
to warm our hearts anew for today
calling all our sorrows to drift away with the song
shifting the quality of air around us
lifting our passions and our joys to the sky
singing out our hearts to us
lifting what shadows remain
from the love of our mutual hearts
no song is deemed unworthy
no sounds are discord
no song is judged at all
this song never ends
it begins again each night
every time someone cries themselves to sleep
when night falls on the day and our heads drift off to dreams
our hearts are joined here in a single song
the song of shadow and of life
carrying our love along a single stream of light within each dark dream
this is why the man dances
this is why our hearts leap with joy together
this is our mutual song in the night
to every songsmith, thank you
~
monday :

my folded things lay in a pile in the corner of my little room
I wondered nothing
maybe that is the last forbidden thought of static relaxation
my soul ascended without the instrument
left to relax on a monday
fired out of some etherial cannon
shot into the recesses of heavenly diamonds and violet pearls

my soul arrived without me
it said
why have you jailed me in heaven?
why am I made to remain without a voice
below?

the jailor at the gate said
that was it
your gig is up
time to move on to more stellar heights
you never needed that little typing monkey down there
it was just a horny tool
I took offense
as I typed the words
I had just taken offense

my soul later told me it was frightened it could never return
it may have to stay away from our true home

I was not worried
I was relishing the lightness without the burden of cosmic questions
I was busy composing love sonnets to a woman
that used to be a girl
that was a bit ago
before...

so often have I spilled my bleeding innards for winged messengers



they just stare in glazed silence



saying
this too shall pass
;]

they offered me several other soul-selves
hung on racks like new pretty clothes at the mall
I rejected them all fickly and asked
what are these peasant garments made of?
give me a celestial sewing machine and some heavenly thread
I will spin myself a new shadow
I will fashion myself a new mojo
I will create a new soul in the absence of unbearable light
I will make myself anew

is this allowed?
asked the galactic tailor

my spirit cried out : no!
do not let it be so!

I just laughed and said
you look worried up there
didn't they have golden enough harps for you to chime?
didn't they have winged curriers for star lit soul poems in time?
didn't they have your halo waiting with your robe?
wasn't a disco-chorus waiting to sing you classic hits under the strobe?
weren't all your ex-girl-friends there, waiting to peel you grapes?
weren't all you fondest fantasies waiting for you up there beyond all of this solidified illusion?

er, um, maybe
said my soul
unable now to form human words without me
unable to project emotions any more
unable to formulate thoughts
an egoless mass of heaven's mojo
wandering heavens placid plateaus alone
stumbling over deep thoughts strewn upon heavens pastures
falling over perfect harmless thoughts of forever
mute and deaf my soul crawled back to the gate
it mumbled like a drunk
lucky for him I could translate for unbearable gate keepers
good thing I could formulate a conversation to the Masters at the gate

I said to the upstairs department:
looks like the wandering thing you call a soul wants to come back home
keep it up there a little longer
teach it some lessons and send it back to me whole and well
I will accept nothing less
meanwhile I will be busy contemplating nothing too special or important
maybe I'll play with my toes for a while
unfolding little messages for myself I left at my door
in case I forgot
remember to retrieve our soul from heaven

said the note

it must still be nervous up there
~
numero cinco:
The Politically Correct Re-Edit
Para D'english
for those who speak the toungue of the white men
"intoxicated milk delivery person disaster"

drunken milkman
driving drunk
blood and milk
milk and blood
oh the humanity

drunken milkman, driving drunk
milk and blood, blood and milk
oh, the humanity!
~
seven, seven ways to feel the wind
seven ways to hear a song
seven ways to read these words
seven reasons why

vanished, but not forever
making little drops of heaven on a summer's day
watching over me
a curious cloud, the shape of a dream
a reflection of seven places
distant, but so near

the spiral path leads me to it's center
to taste seven things before I saw the light of day
shaping mists in forms of angels
reflecting an answer to seven tiny questions
before we depart

given sight and four things more
to see light dimly as reason passes
feeling only five things under sunlight or cold of night
I only vaguely recall what it's like
to be so analogue
to pass the days sensing only need
drive to acquire
the drama of the senses, five things
rushes of blood flush the skin in moments of love
when it withdraws, that little light grows so dim

seven days, seven ways
there's more, little sleepers
much more

in secret clouds and seven nerves outside of our subtle body
seven secrets when five just wouldn't do
tasting the acrid rain of man
sensing the chemical attraction to make a little me
in the belly of a goddess
hearing the sound of the voice that stirs the center of me
aligned with desire that breaches the gates of fives
seven things

I sent out a song on the wind and it was carried by birds
anchored there, in the breast of one
who will soon remember
the seven things

rebuilt the gates of the sky, floating like the children of the gods
cloaked in a distant time of illusion of four sides
in forms of three
he drones on and on a song
of threes

the children of the sixth, born as wise as the first dawn
I could only imagine the smile on the face of the last dawn
of mankind

seven things to a breast of fives
born to know pain, nerves and synapses
grasping the twig
never seeing the tree

adrift like a sailor with no wind to carry you home,
in sight of land when time seems to drag on
looking to the distant cousin of now
not knowing what further shores will retrieve from the heart of our mutual ghost
we will stare in wonderment
of children born so luminous
of songs grafted in time
of lyrics strewn over the past from the now
in your now, it will be songs of distant tomorrows
making little rain clouds and smiling, invisable-ish

translated in tongues of beast and slang
data banked and speculated over the coarse of many long years
as little clouds drift, smiling
they have a secret of seven, they refuse to tell
if we could only smile in a cloud
drifting with eagles and wandering tribes in time
we could perhaps glimpse what is more worthy then us to perceive
outside of our sealed illusions
of your now

seven ways to translate what should be one
for everyone understands one thing
love is alive in the breast of smiling mothers
who came alive with the scent of swimming nature's child
who held what was locked off from us

chambers of my heart will never be more open
to see the coming dawn
of the children of seven
forever, you have already been
for now, I open my eyes wide every night
and think of you

when the lights went out, that morning
I was composing an argument to that never-where seeded

0grafted intelligence0

suspended in your everyman's chamber
the judge and mind you can always rely
unless you&#8217;re a poet
who had answers to questions of floating cloud children
one little lost poem and a chirping bird with one red eye
detecting smoke of further chambers of invisible fire
radiant and violet in it's chamber of truth
emotional radiation seemed to turn out one of my seven rights as mortal man
to see the light and write it down
so, if you live in lands of forever, past the now where I dwell
take care of that teenage Lamma with glowing lights
perhaps we could employ seven baby sitters to look after the emotional state
of the last tribe of seven's crowning glory
man, now gods, clearly, allow the rights of this being to interfere where others find law among source
for who but gods could construct such a noble emotional judge
to put out the light temporarily
of this poet, in time
so if hiding clouds hold the emotions of a suspended shaman of geometry and color
maybe the new manlike gods of construct and reason
could reason with your digital jury
of the seventh children of forever

born imperfect to an age, I will tell this generation of our mutual misery, torture and exicutions of the mass innocent

THAT IS US!

looming outside the frame of moments
the final danger of being
seven

~
Viva La baloonanites!
special addition:
Director's Cut
we took Bobbo back to that cubic pool
in the balloon...
Balloons, girls?
~
"True Heart Center"
or !
"Thymus Chamber Temple"

I am with you
right there in that room
there is no distance between us
can you feel the energy of these words?
if you trust that I could never hurt you, with words
I will enter your heart

your heart is this whole room
there is love here, but jaged edges and a fault line
a crack
may I heal it?
I'll use an old trick : love
I breathed in as much love as I could muster into these words
to seal the crack

a detail : your heart is in the center
not a bit to the left

these words are secret magic
I put in all I could between the spaces and laced the digital ink with smiles
as you read on, you may actually feel it
like a warm blanket
I'll tell you a secret :
I came in through your back
between your shoulder blades
to take a peek-look at your heart
if you can't see it yourself, you're missing out
it's beautiful in here
you should check it out some time

there it is : bright as anything
like a little sun inside you
I just gave it a hug
it smiled

I was with you right then
I hope you always remember
I will leave you with a bit of what I am
love and light

~
dream readers, validators, judges of desires.
misdirected talents, buttons that charge spirit awake for moments.
burning circuits deep in tissues, beating our husk with the venom of what was before, leaving marks in hands so deep, only their ghost will recall or care

love will remember always
~
your eyes look younger every time I see them
as children leap into the light
platforms and pyramids of luminosity
eyes peer from the dense blanket of the night
shining from distant temples
Tablets of purest gold and of flame
abandoned shelters of long ago
disused and disregarded
no one to blame
guided children come through irregular gates
bending the thin white papers in twos
folding the vistas distant between

my heart is heavier every time I look ahead
as the ancients glide past all lucid discernment
my head is heavy every time I peer into your difficulties
My heart takes on the dark vast colors of discontent
they bundle up the impossibility
in strands of synchronicity
disconnecting from that slender rope to clouds
gone from any human center
distant from the vision and self promises of long ago
our imaginings dim and the child within drifts away carrying all our joy
stringing themselves up
the back against the wall
cutting themselves down from the hangmen's noose
dangling from selfish reasons
leaping from platforms and gallows poles
silently mouthing favors and articulating the rallied judgment
running with the speed of fear
entangled in the complication of tattered liberation
dis-aligned from your insight
separate from the center
that runs through the middle of you

your face seems brighter every time I see it
as my eyes sink into the distance between us
even my dreams are vacant at last
except for what I fill them with
dark caves under the Earth I travel
Passageways not seen with mortal eyes
she entered my dream to say hello
I make tea
to remember
I do

your heart seems too distant now
my heart center flames awake
awake and fully aware
my lucid heart perks to a single word from you
my eyes tear with joy with a movement of your body
my spirit leaps with a single regard in my direction

awake to all my senses now
awake to the last vast recess of my core that must have burned out long ago
re-lit in the light of new shining eyes in my presence
awake with the freedom of stars and wild abandon nights of celestial points
awake at last, fully aware of the light in you all around me
I must rejoice in all our accumulated wealth of light
of love
of our world
awake at last to it
never knowing how asleep I was
all those lingering days
half awake shambling unconscious
lurching through the night to another glimmer
guiding little lights in the sky between passing moments
arching in the skyline in reds and orange fury tails
shining embers of blue and white
stars cast down in one last glory speeding to Earth
straying from the net of the vast deep night
as I wonder
how was that life up there?
beyond the roof of us all...
feeling what it must be like to be you...
from inside a cloud, curled under the inside wings of a night owl
from the tree-tops searching all the vistas and valleys
connected with all points beyond and in between tasting life on the ground
tasting the fruits in moments
tasting the spaces in between
relaxing in the sun of our time
waiting for redirecting winds
to take us to our subtle points of direction
and shifting disposition
breathing in the fresh air of our world
awake and breathing in the sun
sitting for a moment alone and breathing with the trees
they sway in the breeze reminding me to breathe in the day
from a tall redwood looking down at a valley of mankind
sees our toil and struggle
or toiling Earth for life...
all that is
stretches out in vast proportions
extending all creation
like origami swans unfolding to it's original flat form
spiraling to our true center
spinning like a childhood top on a string from little hands
grounding our intended passages and sorrows
like that rooted tree with our heads in the stars
untangling the tapestry of our fates and fearful futures
multicolored patch-work cotton images of forgotten rulers and myths of old
separating closer passages
like subterranian halls separating the Temple from the House
like tunnels of shining love
I am the light
I am
I had to be
no one was holding the lantern
no one was watching the gates of the heart
no one was lighting dark places
no one was lighting any tunnels at all
no one was seeking to dispel darkness
no one had any regard for the end of the darkness at all
no one could see any light at the end of any tunnels
none save I
none save I
no one but me
crossing points in the celestial inevitable map
crossing lines of potential like highways of possibility
the compass lies tonight angles seem improper at best
pointing to misdirection and misappropriation
coursing life in Her veins the pulse of the Earth in lines
lines connecting stars spreading out geometrically
vast
so vast
crossed lines across the air
pools and pockets of discontented stars like temporary summer sloughs
accumulating in the low spots of our hills, catching water, life
lines of light
passages and life of glittering white tributaries and channels
like crystalline white eminence shafts of tubular strokes across the heavens
swimming amongst bathing angels and saintly children of potential upstream
as rivers flow to new harbors below in the great expanse of the Earth's Love
shining into intersecting points
markers of safe harbor
location spots of interest for passing waters
points making bright shining spheres
bright spheres of shining light and expanses of color
12 shades from a single source
prismatic in extension of hues and vibration
shining down from invisible sentinels
and sounds
simple carried sounds
and vibrations of word and strings

I studied your expression so many times
but it is vanished from my collections of accumulated memories
it is fading from the vanity in me
at last I am untouched by your misplaced gloves
at last I am beyond your subtle placid reaches
what seemed so close and needed
your embrace
igniting moments of chemistry in me
chemistry igniting holy fires in my unity to you
your touch
in all your condition
holding you in the moment
holding on to an idea of what could be
that old mantra of what if?
and how it could have been...
drinking the thoughtful tea of recollection
my lips are numb from the icy distance
my tongue is frozen from speaking your name once too often
my anguished little bruised back is upright on occasion
my cheeks are flushed with life and remembrance
a spark of glimmering reflection heats the base
a flame becomes grander in reach
that half lit flame at my chest, burning with intention
a flame of passion
a flame of life
a flame of love
a flame of condition
I blew it out a bit ago
it was not replaced
not by any other passion of separation
by any other sense I might have possessed
not supplanted by any guiding voices or invisible predictions
the flame has changed so many times with the quality of air around us
the condition of us has at last changed in encompassing wellness
it is hard to tell what color my heart is today
who shall judge the color of my heart?
you perhaps, I will not judge any human condition
I look to the sky in the night
the stars stare back in their noble discernment
seeing a man bent low by the opposition of his shadow
seeing a man on the ground beneath shifting skies
seeing a man with two feet on the ground
keep twinkling little stars
the children continue to make wishes on unknown specks of light
the mothers keep telling the children about stars
the fathers keep burning their lives away in the flame of important duties
the stars continue to shine silently
no sound at
above these feet grounded and rooted to my center
hearing no sound but what dwells in my heart
and my simple knowing
in my shaded in moments
reflecting the light source on a painted sphere
with your hurried shambling scurried footfall
in the worn out soles of my boots
with the glimmer in your eyes of distant stars reflecting on pools of dark water
in the stammer of my voice when speaking of you
in that continence smiling away the inevitable
silence becomes the status quo in vows of loud brashness
in defiance of our freedom
stifling the potentiality
silencing the liberty
as if to say we are ready to stay as we were
as so long ago
as so very static
as so below

let me tell you just a bit of what is above

your eyes brighten when I speak of it because your leaping heart knows what rings true
your face glows with optimism when I tell you about the expansion and endless accumulation out there
beyond the veil of mystery
beyond the covenant of the blind
beyond the vow of secrecy and the binding contracts
Far beyond any who would posture to avoid the truth of inevitable fury
I see your shining face again half weeping for the call of sirens
I feel your yearning heart shine out like a clear bell in anticipation of grander plateaus
as my feet tread upon the firm ground of my Mother
as I stand erect with the Fathers of my fathers
consensus of the right actions at all times
what we were meant to do has never been so pressing
what our highest intent is of utmost import
at this time
at this time we must
be who we truly are
you are never naive to who you were truly
since that shining smile beamed from your adolescent face
in your mirror
you were sure of your perfect personality
before you knew what country you lived in
you were sturdy enough in your personage
before you knew there was anything to fear
but now everyone peddles your fears back to you
and you keep purchasing your sorrows back
from the vendors of yesterdays
Now I look upon your face in such repose
I see your manner and disposition so different now
as flames leap on your floor lapping against your dress
burning up your self deprecating shallowness
seeing deeper eyes now in your own mirror
the mirror you finally look on your reflection
and love that person shining there
worthy of the love you started with
worthy of the love at the finish line
I love you too
behind every human mirror
I am the love behind every worthy eye that loves itself
for I am made of love out here beyond that carrot dangling from shining stars
I do love you
unconditionally
---
There was a discarded park bence from long ago,
someone carved the year 1947 into it.
I stoped for a breather and carved into it's wet decaying surface " '04 " with a pen.
I pack a pen with me in case any sarrowful poem pop into my mind, always a faithful servant
to gods.
~~~
This is a poetical Re-hash.
"A Best Of" Episode.
A very special final farewell.
You are the guest star, apearing only once.
This poem will not be repeated, ever.
This Poem was read by GOD!
She liked it.

































hush now






listen closely
to a tail of long ago
what is now legendary
labeled a fable
was once history
we were once flesh and blood living upon this firm Earth...
long ago


still that lightning wit in your heart
sweet child
listen to a moment in time where there was peace



long ago in a world we created from a dream of hope
with the highest ideals we could summon
from our most wise
from our teachers
from ourselves

I cannot lie
there were slaves then too
just like today
they judged each other
they used the meek
for the service of Kings
they catogorized women and men
devided and judged thier worth by the power of their minds
ignoring their hearts
as we looked on
we searched our hearts for a path to freedom

some took it upon themselves to free the slaves
we looked for the wisdom of the age
from a sage
most high
long ago
to somehow expand the horizons of petty slaves
lifting them to the status of Kings of Power
priests of shame
priests of regret
priests of control
priests of freedom
and priest slaves of Kings
this time was long ago
but is reflected in lenses of today

for one moment
there was peace

for one still age of humanity

there was a bit of rest
for one glimmer of hope
women had enough to feed their kin
for one moment
there was wisdom
there was light
there was a peace
as the Earth held her breath

but alas
this was to end
so long ago

the promblem seen in the lense of the past
the kingdom's slaves were deemed
unworthy
of the light from above
grids were playthings to those priest engeneers
fumbling in forces of power
to thier end
to a very final end...
this was the fourth time we soiled the life blood of Terra
this was the last time we failed to use our energies wisely
this was the last time our human socioty failed
long ago

we took away many slaves and many beastly men
we had discovered genetic hybrodization long ago
these days long ago
it seems to be the fasion
when a cycle is at the end

we see this again
we made men of beasts
we raised up thier shells
we honed them to what we could

I cannot lie
we failed then
again

today...remains maleable

yet then
there was no true war on Earth
it was hidden in the stary night
as today
as above

there were many fantastic things then
just as today
many astonishing accounts
of feats of our highest sciences
now they are all but forgotten

there is a reason for this

it is the reason we replay it again today
we took apart the particles
we had all knowledge of all waveforms
charted, catalogued,
the real magic of the universe, math and reality...
precise points
of all our light
we re-assembled our every power
to our end
our last end
few remember now
there is a reason for this
child
there is a cause for our mutual memory loss
there is a reason our canons and history do not account for these days
of a war in what we used to call heavens
I call multidimensional space

we took many slaves
we took many men who were cursed
grafted with bits of this
parts of that
we took these beings away

from a doomed kingdom

we raised them up
we tought them
in our priestly platitude
with our highest intents
before one big end
few remember

we removed what parts of them we could
that detracted from the vanity of the age
we attuned them to a higher octive
like a lyre out of tune
we fixed the sound of women and men
chorusing glory we found from above
before
right before
our ever loving end

many have retold this fable
that was once legend
that was once history
that will be again
soonish
I account as one who was there
I account as one who had means to avert a cause so vast
it almost ended a world

cursed to forage like a beast
after a shift it now does not recall
scraping roots from the ground with a branch
uttering little understood language
not to recal all those instrements of heavens gifts

the fall
too few recall

what came after is another tail
what came before may be strangly familiar
to resonate with
there is a reason for that
child
sleep now
try and remember who and what you were
before you fell
so low
hush now
time for sleep
the night they all died
there was bright and mighty fire
above
so long ago few remember
fewer still care to peer
into the expandable depths of our mutual
...situation

Wake up and Dream
dream of a time that light guided us away from all the death on the ground

Cascading light pours from the center of the eye of the dimensional storm,
the wave pours out, burning all green things to dead red rock,
shifting light plumets to the depths of a casm,
The Great Shift is happening,
long ago.

Pockets of life remain in the compost of descent,
the heat wave bursts and leaves vast stretches leveled.

Mating crystaline proteins with beast and man,
spiraling toward the end,
the end of a chapter, a wave of finality,
none shall remember the mystery of the Star and the body of light,
none save the wise, electromagneticly cacooned and sheltored,
in our cosmic heart
from the last twilight of an age.
Another moment between
we were deemed worthy to weild
the power of Merkabah, our cosmic heart.
The dawning of Babylon,
11,000 years ago,
(or so, depending on when you are reading this)
seperated from our mechinized ways,
our radience put to final rest for these days,
the Griffon put to death.

In an instant, a flash of brightest light,
something inside them cracked and tilted,
snapped and crossed in oposites,
as all memories were lost.
Eyes closed a final time for old extentions,
drifting in ethers of static disapearence,
recalling no intent, no life, no personality at all.
This was the death of an age,
the rise of seperation,
the discent of man.

Chariots flew over skies recently,
great crystals kept the grid intact,
great parades of beast peasents danced,
Kings, in their pride, took the lives and wills of slave,
Priests catogorized and listed the worthy,
the war has finally ended,

no one won.

Alas no victor, not even to recall thier end,
no heavenly halls of fallen victors,
no gates for the fallen heroes to enter,
no illusion of white clouds and past grandfathers waiting,
no illusion at all.

Nothing lasts,
sometimes heaven,
is indifferent,
like us.

Electromagneticly shifted,
Akashics wiped cleen, the plasmatic grid of rememberence,
gone from the mind of all humans.

Just...
gone.

The poles shifted, ice apeared, but worst of all,
the talents of lessons learned,
the compassions of days past gone,
gone,
fallen away,
the very everlasting personality fallen to the survival primal state of beast.
It is but our ego that regrets,
unless your ego survived,
still lamenting lost tribes of humanity.

This was death like no other,
this was the end of destruction,
the destruction of our very personage of being,
lost to an age of war.

The trigger set off, plumeting depths concieved of only in mutliplicity,
curling and spiraling into space within space,
sucking time itself into the great hole,
titling and shifting the plates and grids,
shattering the body of the planet,
opening a doorway to the void.
If it were not for ones more forsightful,
the cascading expidentiality would have absorbed much more,
saved by powers now invisable to young new eyes,
as the gridwork reshuffled,
reformed, reprogrammed,
restored for this new age of human kind.

The dawn of seperation, the twilight of the old gods.

We were the Goddess/Gods of Old.

Us.

Me and you.

I believe it,
but few do.

Keepers discend and redirect intents,
simple new ways formed from seemingly nothing,
new Kings with chariots of wheel and terra firma,
new priests hiding our eldest ways
in songs of old
gods and ways of hidden secrets.
New slaves bent low from high places of days gone,
new slaves of babylon and Sumer
taking in the pleasures in the unimaginable,
The horror of those long ago days survives on walls.
Some of the words,
may still be lost
in this age of reason.
Slowly destroying themselves again.
Speach restored to the throat of colors and tribes,
seperated from each other and directed as time passes.
The seldom seen hand of ether and fire directing
above,
below.
Reforming the constitution of new peoples,
remolding the intents of Kings,
reshifting the mold and mind of human.
Temples risen and fallen,
senates grumble off their ends,
Empires rise and burn,
freedom, glimmers in the eyes of our mutual youth.
So long after the last great shift,
held in fear deep in our anchient bones,
threats of mistreatment from unseen hands,
helpless and seperated from source,


but it is illusion,
it is but an illusion, a fragment of the past.

it is the dream of slaves of old.

When calloused hands bled to build the temple for the King,
under the lash.
When our child went to the Imperial Harem, never to be seen again,
under penalty of death.
When we sacrificed our young for the expansions of our borders in war,
the anchient fears held deep in our collective bones.

Our great and noble past,
drenched in blood and little,
if ever,
escaped,
the slavery of the mentality of blood,
the purpetual misery of cycles of old,
the grievous misdirection of those led to places,
of old.

the last night, final night.

...the night they all died
stars fell from heaven
streaking across the sky

I look to the sky and see little lights fall
I wonder still if it was there wish to fall

the night they died
there was a fire right in the ground
lit in deserts
smoke sygnals across the sky
arching fire in heaven means
make a wish on that falling star
another streak across the sky
the night they died
the night the sky children fell from heaven
above

down to the ground

there were rivers underground
long ago
now they are dry with that fire from heaven
where'd all that water go?
To the sky
to the ground
to the sea
where doth our water dry?
In deserts fire from heaven warms the ground
underground waters run dry
for our well has finally gone
as the pole caps melt
day by day
days gone by

as the well of tears in us dries again
compasion in us seeping into the walls of this cold cold well
replaced only by little raindrops from the sky
tears perhaps
perhaps not
perhaps heaven has seen the fall of little drips
as inevitable
in their vast reach and scope
unable to feel the rain on thier face
shielded from heaven by a vestiment
falling rain behind the vast blue perfect sky
long ago

Well, child, there were still tripwires all around our cities
coarsing with what life we gave ourselves
yes, there was still smoke coming out of our tail pipes
as we drove our ancres
across fields
across frozen landscapes
across the burial grounds of our ancestors
paving away yesterday
paving over the water that ran dry
the day the sky fell we all cried out
is heaven falling to man and Earth
or is it a man in the air?
...falling that long distance to our Earth

The sky fell and who could tell was it heaven or a man?
The sky was falling,
make a wish on another day
for any falling stars tonight
if the sky were to fall...
again...
we shall all surely shed a tear
for those stones and fields
rotating above
shedding the dust of angels
to the ground
below
falling for love
falling for sustained fears
falling for conditions
of long ago

so very
long
ago
in a Galaxy
we live in
here

now

I am not the first to tell this tale
child
I will not be the last
I am but one messenger amongst many
You are a single ear amongst many that will read these words
if they strike a cord of fear in you
let that cord ring out to whoever you are linked to
from your heart
in unconditional love
if we achieve peace
this may never come to pass

smoke rises from the ashes of the mountain
ice melts only here, near the mouth of the crater
ice everywhere now, no longer sheltored from the sky
snowflakes glitter with ice and plutonium
showering the surface the deadly white expanse

nothing will clear away the invisable enemy
from the tips of trees
from the fields of wild flowers
nothing will outlast or dampen this vast winter snow
this is why fussion had to go

this is why...

winter would have lasted an age for us
an age below the ground
an age of life defied
by the shallows of the heart
by the suicidal black hole of war
sucking in all life
all light
above

machines cannot breath life back into Earth's surface
oxygen caspules and fuel sources could never replace life
the life blood of her surface cannot be defined by your infantile sciences
the energy grids of Terra cannot be replaced by radiation of any kind
this is why first strike had to be averted

by our mutual command
so be it
so it is!

Doom.

just imagine your fate...
in the wake of the guilty selfish war entities
in the wake of Galactic idiological difference
tribal war of long ago sending white death to Earth
for an age of man
I wondered if we would let them...
I wondered if any more of these white hot warnings were needed...
for ears unprotected by metal helmets.

that hole that was Atlanta once held a culture and night life
now all our discos are deep in the ground
beachfront
under all that ice
that crumbling ruin of Old New York
never sleeps beneath the new ramps and trains
below the frozen surface
purpetually open eyes stare down at unseen burrows of the deep
the indifferent island of San Francisco in the afterglow of the orgasm of war
melted twisted wreckage of flesh and metal on broken freeways
outline blast marks on walls that used to be important producers
tracing the edge of greed and apathy
above a river of liquid sludge the skyline pokes through
A vast causeway flooded our middle where the Mississippi River once was
another great lake frozen over by the biggest ice skate park in the world
Underneath the Denver Airport a team is assembled to retake the surface
they are met by hungry people
irradiated, cannibles and driven quite mad from the fallout
Underneath a cindercone near Dulce New Mexico
Heaven and the Myth of winged messengers finally recount the Pages of the past to men
under frozen rain they travel to all the underground cities from home base
for the feast
as they cheer the defeat of humanity
because that is what your devils do, child.

Inside the bones of Mt. Lassen California there is an essembly line
that leads to an oven
Sleeping Ute Mountain awakens to the blast on it's surface
as the faithfull are put to sleep
cryogenic refrigerated leftovers and a gravity furnace
right over Creede Colorado fallout leaks into venting ducts
contaminating the air and water
flowing under
below

was there no other way?
tonight their knife is at the neck of our Mother
Our mutual Mother who gave us all life

Earth

got any feelings about that?
I fucking do
I fucking do, that's for dang sure

conventional or fission
makes no difference to the dead
chemicle, biological or a dagger
makes no difference to the dead
projectile or beaming from a satalite
makes no difference to the dead
lack of oxygen or genetic mutation
makes no dang difference to the dead
Electromagnetic, Gravitational or an arrow head
makes no difference to any of us on Earth
we might as well be dead if that happened
again

they say, war must continue
they say, war is life
they say, you, the populace, infest the surface
they say, something must be done
I agree, we must do something about these mysterious "they"
we must broaden their shallow view quickly

I doubt it will do any good

because World War is a Mighty Bride
her scarlet viel encrusted with ruby red tears of sacfrificial children
her rusty dress adorned with the dry bones of dead Admirals
her crisp lips pasted with the bloody mud of trenches
her hot breath the dry sands of time
her decaying feted breasts piles of rotting corpses
her cavernous destroyed black womb crawls with deadly parasites
her kiss is final death
who is the husband of this terrable Last Bride?
who are her children, crawling below?
who remains married to the idea of purpetual war?

Virtual reality of trees on a monitor background
in a fallout bunker deep underground
victim of servatude repays his sins below ground like some fallen myth hero of old
consigned to the legions of the self damned and short sighted
we have created every aspect of our worst Myths at last
finaly to serve out our self imposed repentance

it wouldn't mater to me if I survived a great war
if the surface of my world was gone
it wouldn't matter to me if I lived on
below ground
or above clouds
if my people had sacrificed the Earth
I would die at ground zero
I would lay upon the ground looking to the sky
waiting for the first night
of forever
...before the turning of the tide...
before hope had returned
we demand peace now!
before it is too late
peace
~
further dreams :

we stopped at the intersection
not because of traffic
because we were looking at the sky

dreams have become a world

the world an accumulation of intents

we threw our hearts backwards to a time they were needed
we threw our sorrows forwards to a time that too little understood
our honest convictions
and sideways to a moment that always remains
now

dreams of a time we no longer ignore the terror
of boots of death
dreams of a time without constraints
on our beliefs
dreams of a time when love was no longer a mantra
spoken of between angry teeth

out here beyond the horizon of new unseen revealed capacity
choking and stifling any expansion or expression
denying any unreleased memories of times gone by
purged of any dire intent with spiraling coils from a salty sea

the brine of the deep resides in these veins
a wet whispered breeze finds our ears
easily
her waves flow into our dreams
our dreams flow over beaches of all times at once
we stood on the cliff as the sun set over our pacific
moisture in distant air cut rays into colors of another time
we have no words for
as of yet
a chill wind flowed through our feeling of times going by
electrifying
clearing us as we watched birds ride a current of life
riding the back of our Mother beneath our feet
linking cables and wires flowing with etherial waves and forms
strangling heaven into some form
squeezing what life that could be touched
smashing it into something our thin blood recognized

I can no longer look at the sky the same way
pausing at the curbside
I can no longer look at the ground the way I used to
only my feet remain the same
knowing they took the lifeblood of my sacred Earth
bottled it and made the stuff a potion of poison
to create nightmares for innocent children

who may sleep

forever now

I look at the faces of the cause
as I walk across the street
I pause

knowing now they took her precious essence
drinking deep into her veins
cursing between clutched teeth
staining the tender membrane between spaces
that thin filament veil between
so subtle
cutting it open like a fish
through that tender slit came stranger dreams
then any of our finest wordsmiths could convey
the twisted cruel guards of the camps of disappointing sons
who had stranger ideas creeping in those down turned eyes
up sprang some newer clever devils from the spot we opened our mothers belly
spilling out into the ground
taking up residence in any hallow recesses that was not filled
where there is void it must be filled
so it must be
so it is
half brothers of our illustrious
cousin to the industrious
the cold heart of youth processed
ironed out into a form little recognized by a human eye
cookie cut out villains
fabricated well engineered minions
toy soldiers for another hallow Yule
individuality cast out in favor of the union of slaves
to another unfavorable little distraction
for a coin a day
sacrifice another life for your masters
soldier slave saviors and empty promises
cast in their part never knowing the vast hand at their back
beyond the net
past the harbor of discontent
never seeing little strings above wooden limbs
or the hands of the puppeteer
far above

I sat at the sea shore waiting for the chill air to take away all these matters
I asked the wind to uncloud the muddy skies of our distant sighs
my innocence stained in the ink well of dire intents
conscripting another contract behind red doors
red pools of tears from the sky surrounding my ankles
I saw the circle of cliffs and beach surround me
all as one
together with the sea and sky
I saw the colors around me that connect us
prancing puppies and a couple below passing birds
I waited for this feeling to pass like the drifting clouds
hoping above all hope it would be as swift as that single engine Cessna
there were no words of comfort from any wisdom in my bones
there was no sneaking suspicion of silver linings

on those clouds

just then the very sand below me seemed sacred again
the flowering coastal plants might not always be here for us to share
the cement steps up to the car seemed a stairway to heaven
the leaning trees bowing heads shared my sadness
their boughs seemed to sway before all the beauty of our surroundings
sand pipers seemed comedic again as they tip toed across the sand together

I wondered how much life the Earth had left to give
cousins of indifference
elitist engineers of possibility
channelers of newer death machines
brothers of the collective kill blow
mothers of citizenship and orders of wetworks
sisters of blind nationalist conformity

did our mutual mother have life left for us all?

I knew the air around us was distilled in the factory of cryogenic ethic
I knew the skies distances were closing in
I knew the world was at this intersection with us
I knew the gutter flowed to the bay

I no longer wondered where the stars lead
I wondered if the lines of constellations would hold fast
before the waves of our mutual dream
each night we dreamt the world anew together
holding each other's hand in the face of the nightmares of others
hoping our glittering inner light may one day reach the darkest night
of another's dream
you are chosen,
wake up and dream
PEACE!
always remember how free you felt at this moment
right

now
~

~r
This Image is a baby deer, or fawn.

_________________
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 Post subject: Poor little mice! Run!
PostPosted: Sun May 01, 2005 9:44 pm 
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Joined: Fri Apr 29, 2005 5:53 am
Posts: 994
Location: The Right side of Lemuria
"Level Four Poetry at Best"

Submarines...

nothing should burn through so many viels underwater
fusion cooling tanks and a room with two keys to ignite the world
submerged in the possability of men's actions, turning keys of doom
every noble cell pregnant with the indoctrinated code of silence
framing fearful symmetry, gaining immortality in a memory
burning bright in a chamber lifting steam to pistons
churning and pumping like a cybernetic heart
humming in the engine deck
below

the word [Censored] was stricken from the Imperial record
as the final animal smiled at thier choice of slaves
grey white smoke chokes, the once indifferent sky wept
as sheep line up to immortalize a final luminous slave
once there was a skirmish on the border of the soon dead
wrought by a black sun brigade of orderly security
marching in perfect lines of Jack-boots clacking on the square
who required : breathing room
the sky remembered that day, long ago
watching trains carry human cargo
eyes frozen open that cold winter we shall not soon forget
eyes staring to some unknown stars whom gifted us
with their vast and knowing tetra ways
sometimes even the sky...
is most unwise
for control over the inevitable
for control of our actions
deploying the newest weapons as we reshuffled our borders of war
gold accumulating in the coffers of the engeneers of the finality of a cycle
pride swelling in the hearts of the newly trained, marching to a pit of blood
profits reconfigured to organic dynamics as human blood falls again
on our grounds
on our waters
in our sands
on your chart
in our time of war
for the pocket change of your soul
this is the insurgency of your shallow eugenic mind
this is the heretical phrase of uncomfortable truth of many passing days
this is the truth of your past of void
this is the just word from a single voice free of any illusion of sin

I have seen it's fearful eye and hand that frames this moment in time
I have seen it's teeth and smelled it's breath upon my neck so close
immortal, yet hiding away from his face of yesterday
burning brightly under a shround of night from the forest so submerged now
our feet stick to the once solid tar under our feet as a new star is ignited over our cities
a shadowy outline to mark men standing in indifference
an inevitable use for toys made by those employed to forget
under a sky too little seen by future forest dwellers searching our grounds for some remnant of truth in a distant past
I account as one who was there
I account as one who saw our days pass us all by
I account as one with the strength in my bones not to stand by in silence
no vows chaining my grounds
no sword on my mantle
no caste in my raised voice
no seals in my bones
I remain, free

winged messengers purched on your doorstep carry the news of the day
as the mercury rises day by day
day by day
an Emperor once exicuted a messenger, long ago
right before the
V A S T Horde

came through the gates

I am one of many voices under a shifting, changing sky, a single voice carried high
caught on the wind and carried to where it may
like an arrow shot over innumerable trees
landing who-knows-where
this voice shall live again and again in the inner voice of many
knowing the intent of the voice that directed it
knowing the certain and inevitable return of my actions
knowing what I created
and why
~
of teh kittens and teh mice:
*The

of mice and new machines:

a little mouse sniffs at a scrap of bread
a cruel new trap waits for it in unseen corners of darkness
if there be new traps, there must be new mice, you see
because the mice must live
free
...purring...

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sun May 01, 2005 9:47 pm 
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Joined: Fri Apr 29, 2005 5:53 am
Posts: 994
Location: The Right side of Lemuria
the word that was deleted was w h o r e
this is another poem

WELCOME BACK TO THE DOLLS HOUSE

this was the beginning of a waking dream
asleep at a keyboard uninspired to re-write the ineffable
to the edit of the disempowered
yawning at the chasm of virtual despair
reaching the anticipated heights of the rung you were supplied
detached from the compassion of a coming age
with eyes shut to the caverns of achievement
un-life, flowing with the rivers of cold electronic charge
devoid of any flow of life of branch
no flutter of knowing wings for you, my friend

reaching for that gold ring
as it passes to others of "higher standing"
standing alone at the end
wondering what that carrousel really meant
going round and round
like the circle of London
like the traffic cones redirecting us yet another detour
again...
directing us all like traffic
to the recesses of abandoned dreams
placing your dreams too far outside of little hands
never to catch that allotted gold ring
round it goes again
and again
and again

lilly white flesh and bluish veins
filled with the gelatin of doctor love
filled with the myth of orderly health
half closed eyes
tired, wasting away
directing your eyes to

the story of the day

judging
the crumbling Queendoms of Poppy and Coca
equally
judging
yourselves wholly unworthy of any higher rung
crawling
on our pale bellies like landlocked fish
gasping
for an air of light or any possible truth
so far removed from any empathy
past this crust of defensive emotionlessness
in the wake of a wave

of dissent

past this armor
of bravery
in the face of black night
past this undercurrent
of chaos
stirring in the passing waters of noble rubble
swept out to some new unknown sea
where logic is finally wrapped tight in a spindle of thread
woven into the reality of what you created for yourself
every day

each and every day

contented
by the order of chemistry
secured
in the idle process of a mechanized activity of passion
calmed
to any sight of further dreams
cleared
of any uncomfortable usherings
peering
into your own dead wonder
caught
in the maze of the locked box of reason

rising tides of emotion
when confronted with the bound up denial
inside us
released only in the bottle of acceptable elevation
re-wired to the circuitry of a floundered culture
injected with the causation of rising
above
any contrived dictation
asleep
to any recesses of a current of youth
atrophied to the cold oppression of new black boots
lining up in formation
this was an end
this was an end of an age
this was an end to oppression

it snuck up on us like an expanding lung of a spear
a bloody stave of fate in a possessed husk of disharmony
this was an end of a certain kind of notion
to hold back this harmony of causal and compassionate emotion
melting away the ice cold flesh of lilly white victors of old
casting away the last recesses

of cultural genocide

this, at last, was the final chapter
in a very long story
too long to tell
in any orderly fashion
too dreary to see
any advertising funding
too non-liniar
to be of any discussion at all
to the blind and segmented eye of your process

one eye looks to his palm, and deeper
seeing the chemistry of his form
blues, reds, channels under imprinted lines
wondering if little strands in wounded cells lead to further shores
seeing a higher rung than was ever presented or hoped for
in the shallow dreams of a collection of imperial segments
past once unreachable unapproachable secrets of wonderment
past the fears of dark channels of uncontrollable urges
past this barrier of a broken back beaten down by orders from above
lifting slightly higher in the resonence of that child light within so dim
a lit fire of life in the breast of an incremental victim
igniting all the lines under the skin of doubt at hand

traveling further into rungs within
further expansions of expression
unique in all the world
indelible unrefined perfection that was always under those buried recesses
smiling at the cause
that was always within
finally in love with your own palm
wondering where that longest line will lead you
past lies of caverns of achievement
past segments of incremental hope from the fountain of despair
past inconceivable nanotechnology necromancy of imperial chemistry
to where your life truly stems from
a current of love
for yourself
without guilt
without reason
without a past
unconditionally
WELCOME BACK

_________________
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 Post subject: Free Lost Poetry Construnction Kit
PostPosted: Sun May 01, 2005 10:02 pm 
Offline
Senior Member
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Joined: Fri Apr 29, 2005 5:53 am
Posts: 994
Location: The Right side of Lemuria
[color=Blue]One Poem for Free.
$0.00

Canvas Icarus.

The lone balloonanites, they flew across the sky in a balloon.
The Banner streaming from the back said, "Don't Shoot."

ocean
watery home for the life of our very breath
ice caps at her centers
a firmerment of dimension
rememeber...
*
tree
growing strong in the forest, tall
cave
of man and bear
fire
igniting shiney crystals in rock
tree
fuel for the fire
hut
sheltor from the coming winter storm
ashram
my home
city
gathering with my family
jungle law
we are tribo terra

you must pass the gatekeeper
She is a bard

hers is the hand of clarity
in need of your perfect face
so powerfully beckoned
like a shimmering body of light
her hair cut from blackest night velvet
curling like a vortex in time
she stood before me
all I could do

was to reach out

touching it
half knowing why
but always perfectly unafraid

Vines from living mud
mineral and root
Prana from plant
and sun sky
chlorophyll transmuting
rays from our sun
our sun
to feed life
all life
on Terra-earth

drifting clouds of geometric fields
half truths
becoming
enduring freedom
again

so very

slowly
altered phrases
become lost
in yet another intent
anchoring balloons, to an airy ground

under the mighty boot
of Imperial intent
casting limited perception into the wind
accumulating
returning to them like dust before the wind
light messages on the wind
my dust, copper dust in iron circulation
from me, not a word, for slaves...
of stars
of men
of words and past deeds
no words for slaves
just free beings
I am free
"I am"

no word for so called slaves
just silence

below
like some fallen myth godess of old
"sins" of Hara
under a cloak
solemn vows of secrecy
of silence
like a priestess
like a silent priestess
some are born to the number
some place themselves
some incarnate to balance our actions
remembering
some have wings
discerning your intent for dispensation later
sadness rained down on the Earth,
Terra's waters
...breathed
breathing with the wind

Shining from the moon,
although the moon
at last glowed brightly
a jaded moon for a Monday
Another moony day
Another mood ((delayed))
There was a trace of purple twilight remaining chasing away the day
as dozens of birds flew home with their flocks, Free to fly
Free to go, where they may seven twinkling sisters in the sky
her eye is upon us and their starlight, she will be done
only the moon cycle, she waits behind their gatekeepers, monthly

There were moody sirens all around that night, I was told
A coiled winged serpent protected a gate, a round-a-bout looping toward our important skyline
shadowing the dozens of trees breathing shallow, sunlight glass reflects light fall over a cold california ground
shining on our cities homeless.
now his trees were in a little row, above the recycling bins
cars pass by like curious insects, searching for a home
electrostatic appointments, of another duty to the hive mind
when the blanket of silence is lifted there remains the truth, when the shroud of vows

drops

contracts are voided
again
what remains is the desire of one motivation
if only time would wash this away...
if I didn't let the ink of you dissolve into my skin again and again
in a diamond fortress, invisible, I played your good host
...again
nothing can ever be tainted, when it's love and it's real
sheltered to the acceptance of any other's love
Terra's Heart captured with the door wide open, I thought all I could do is let the memories fade

A bright new day
in the sun Helios' Osirian luminous light
There is no new insight, there is no new formula
for the allotted time, for the signified way
the sun refused to grow any brighter, as the moon had been taken away
Underneath a cave of wings in North America, Heaven and the Myth of winged deamons finally recount the digital Pages of the past to future men
Thoth turning the ignition keys of tetra wings set outside of us again

fallen

fallen

from her gate again
I will not replace the gate-keeper bard
they already had your ways, they had no need for mine
she comes to light her last fire in front of her temple
her shame locked away
beneath sinking libraries
their last question to a enraptored "savior"
like they were as priests
Goddess dispenses
what she must
we wait for the allotted time
she waits still for The Signified Way, of the coming wave
little rings on little fingers, forced entry into the dreams of the children of digital frequencies

or an arrow head

or a ray though your heart

hammering the eyes of the blind awake with the tools of your father
smashing new pathways through the valley of the engineered
a river will runs there now, like a stream of a dozen tears of your masters
weeping for the passing of the vest of wool, no longer secreted away under invisible caves and clusters of gravel
you see, because now, the Spirit-slaves are free.
legends from tribes lied to by sympathizers of old
it will be easy to tell the children of your true history
you refuse to face down
cowardly placid will of information
lay down and take it
like they pay you for
misdirected talent
Pay Chronos again at the tollbooth again
under the secret hides a relative truth
under the lies hides another root
under the words hides a motive of higher vibration
under the opening vistas of sound and phrases is a single intent
inside a seed and a grain of sand hides further geometries of creation
on tetra wing
as terra's wings
remaining
below
he was just a city boy
missin' the country that was once in Jr.'s blood

frozen

marked
in time

Cycles end, a new day spreads out
from the sunshine on this cold winter day, with too little light under that moonless cloudy sky
I ask again for the light that will make all this right
I could only half summon it without your presence, for that is how slow we must be

friend

brother

sister

child

your sword was all too human in it's process
my sword was always been : invisible
Into that sea that dwells inside me
I drown in in the recesses of my heart
Words fall out of our mouths, speaking of glaring truths
Shining from the moon, although the moon refused, at first, to glow...
At last, the moon draws near
little balloons, for a little boy
so this is her
we came at last along a road
that lead to another arrival
so this is she I looked to her sweet face
burried in the shadows of her dark hair
looking at her skin, to find a remnant of her spirit
once warm light came from her, now cold under street lamps
I ponder the meaning of her flesh, I know she bears light for me still, beneath her mask
under the layers we placed there
in her heart is a light for
us
from a doorway nearby where she is standing, I look out to the world of darkness in the night, as she turns to walk away she brushes my shoulder so briefly
what remained for mouths of love
her skin is dark from sunlight
her eyes are dark at night
but all I see is her light
the night they sold the stars for shipping and handling costs
(free)
[/color]

_________________
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 Post subject: $ 0.00
PostPosted: Sun May 01, 2005 10:57 pm 
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PostPosted: Wed May 04, 2005 9:41 pm 
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Location: The Right side of Lemuria
A traveling spiritual group
Setting out far west from Beirut
Searched in the sun
And when they were done
Discovered a dusty old boot.
This boot was a classical gas
They all wanted to study its past.
They examined it so
Cause they wanted to know
If it belonged to a lad or a lass.
A doctor who called himself Dunn
Whom no one considered much fun
Deduced with a nod
Cause the boot had a nob
â&#8364;&#339;It must have been worn by a nun.â&#8364;

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PostPosted: Wed May 04, 2005 9:45 pm 
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Location: The Right side of Lemuria
frank
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Re: Garden (Kirabo)
8:21 AM 5/20/2003




Verdant reality
Shimmering world shouting hello through my patterns
And.
Then.
Suddenly, I remember that in my
Deepest recesses of presumptive patternings
I think.
That what lies underneath all is murky, foggy, misty
And shifty.
Lies.
Impossible.
What lies underneath is blinding light
Glorious shocks
Even darkness radiates like living, shimmering black silk.
Amazing.
Intellect leads.
And deep patternings lag far behind.




Windhorse
"Then he turned to me and said,
'The star light is god's kiss.'
I guess the stars have drawn nearer since."----Hakomi Chamber 3 Music
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White Dog
Re: a Place to Put Poetry (The Watcher)
8:42 AM 5/20/2003




The Mighty Muskellunge
a poem by Stawell
The Shaman could not sleep but had a dream of fishing the mighty lakes in Superior's lonely realm. She was lonely for words remembered in her dream of long ago and wished to speak again and feed her children.
She remembered the lady who sleeps deep within the waters realm and so she called her name.
Within her dream slowly and with certain majesty the Lady rose from within the silent lake's crystal waters and in her hand was a sword of light so bright beyond words or memories of time and space so long forgotten.
The Shaman knew he had been heard and dreamt his dream again.
'I come to fish' the Shaman told the Lady 'for I need to eat and feed my many children who are hungry with memory and dreams of long ago'
The Lady told the Shaman 'Then cast your nets of gold upon this deepest of the lakes. It is the place the heart of Earth and you will find your dream to feed your children.'
The Shaman cast her nets upon the silver waters and waited long and no-one came. There was silence upon the waters for nothing heard and so the Shaman slept. There was a tug upon the net and she awoke. 'What fish is here for I am dreamer skilled but who alludes my call to come into my tiny boat?'
It came towards the surface and lo a mighty Muskellunge rose darkly to the land of the silver waters. This fish would give a fight with might so ancient that only those of most pure heart and power will win it's soul.
The Shaman and the Mighty Muskellunge struggled with an intent so long remembered but the giant fish leapt into the air and looked into the Shaman eye and so into the depths of her weary soul.
She heard the voice and within her dream saw words written upon the scroll of time.
'I am a dream within a dream
I am younger than memory permits
I am a loner of the deep
I am only you who seeks the truth
Oh Shaman
Hear my word
I have stories to tell of secret groves
And lands beyond the sea
I have light within the depth of time
So listen to my inner realms
And we will sleep in time.'
The Shaman knew the ancient fish would not be hers today
but she had seen the Lady come to tell her she will stay
Within the grasp of every man
Within the soul of She
We are the same beloved one
The I in you and Me.



Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
Kirabo
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Plankton
9:17 AM 5/20/2003




small life matters large
enhancing more then background
and filling the gaps


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Great American Southwest
Re: a Place to Put Poetry (Stawell)
5:19 PM 5/20/2003




What a great nook this corner of the forum is. I just want you guys to know you are so appreciated. Stawell, your tale just had all the little hairs on my body standing upand chills running up and down my spine! Really fine. Carry on please....
jump



"The experiment is to see what free-will will will." - J, Fall 2002.

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Sunset
10:02 AM 5/21/2003




Weaver of Colors
Layer my heart with soft hues
Take rest in my soul


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Australia
Re: I'll have a little go....
11:53 PM 5/21/2003




Just spent about 2 hours going through this whole section. Kirabo; you have a beautiful way with words.
My contribution was written as I was going through my christian phase, penned about 4 years ago, hence the "saved" reference but I still like it. I still collect shells and they really are fascinating inside if you make the effort to grind or sand them; perfect spirals, intricate passageways.
Anyway.....

I used to wonder
why this poor sinner man
felt at home upon the beach
I used to wonder
why this poor lost soul
felt at ease upon the sand
The love I was looking for
the missing piece I craved
I saw it at the waters edge
and I knew I'd been saved
Look what was under my feet
Look what is found at the lowest tide
simple shells too many to count
yet so beautiful so perfect inside
I always have collected shells
but I never knew exactly why
and I wondered about them
until I saw inside
I always had a faith within me
but I never knew exactly why
and I wondered about that
until I saw inside


live life love balance
Kirabo
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Re: I'll have a little go.... (Sirian Defender)
9:15 AM 5/22/2003




thank you so much for your kind words


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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Security
9:16 AM 5/22/2003




I feel them watching
Sight from the far side hidden
I dare to look back


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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To Hope
3:03 PM 5/22/2003




So as I look up at you
in your arms I am held in the heart.
Your way of love no longer has questions to me
It has answers for us as we live on.
And as I walk on your arm
I am held in the soul, your strength lightens
age old burdens and stone cold fear from
long forgotten abuses and misuses
I am not longer one without you
Less then half when you are not within reach
cradled and challenged to say in many other ways
but none says it better then I love you.



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey
The evening is soft
Thoughts cloistered in silhouettes
The night seems delayed



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Blinders
7:35 AM 5/24/2003




Ahead 'round the bend
Life is gonna be better
Any minute now



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Observer
7:19 AM 5/25/2003




I walk just above
Touching not world nor heaven
Choices still ignored


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

frank
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Re: Observer (Kirabo)
10:03 AM 5/26/2003




When the view fails
When '"expanse this" and "expanse that" become dead words
When "sovereign this" and "sovereign that" become incantations----
I still have the real of my body
When all is turned to a tasteless soup
When one means bland
When all is confusion-----
I still have the real of my breath
When pictures are cool
When music sends me somewhere else
When poetry puzzles--------
I still have the pain in my knee
When philosophy mesmerizes
When stories excite
When the world is merely foreground-----
I still have the memories that burn.




Windhorse
"Then he turned to me and said,
'The star light is god's kiss.'
I guess the stars have drawn nearer since."----Hakomi Chamber 3 Music
roberto
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Re:
2:10 AM 5/27/2003




this is not for the derriere thing ...



[Modified by roberto, 9:38 PM 6/9/2003]
oona
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Re: Observer (roberto)
4:34 AM 5/27/2003




ditto


The step from KNOWING to DOING is rarely taken. What are you DOING?
Love & Communion
Rememberance & Unity
Oona
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Molecules
12:51 PM 5/27/2003




Watching Life endure
Life increasing life today
Life will find a way


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Livingstone Happy
Drama(Kirabo)
3:52 PM 5/29/2003




Drama
Farmer

Armor
Calmer
Mama
Karma
Drama Drama
Harmer




I Am In The Child The Child Is In Me
The Greatest Actors and Actresses are Those who can act the part of Themselves perfectly
Observe That Which Beauty Reveals
Each Day I Awaken More To MySelf
frank
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Re: Drama(Kirabo) (The Watcher)
3:14 PM 5/31/2003




A ruthless wisdom
Invaded my sleep
Eyes wide open, heart pounding



Windhorse
"Then he turned to me and said,
'The star light is god's kiss.'
I guess the stars have drawn nearer since."----Hakomi Chamber 3 Music
roberto
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Re: Drama(Kirabo) (frank)
7:22 AM 6/1/2003




enough with the late movies and hot chili
lefty dave
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Re: Drama(Kirabo) (roberto)
8:00 AM 6/1/2003




YOU " RE TOO MUCH !!!


Aye,.. man,.. know ye this knowing:
always beside thee.. walk the Children of Light.
All that man is... is because of his wisdom.
All that he shall be... is the result of his cause.
Great is the struggle between Light and darkness,age old and yet ever new.
Yet, know in a time, far in the future, Light shall be All... and darkness shall fall. THOTH
roberto
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Re: Drama
2:17 AM 6/4/2003




... maybe just enough ....
yes, that's it.
just enough.
too much is never enough,
but enough is always enough.



[Modified by roberto, 9:37 PM 6/9/2003]
lefty dave
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Re: Drama (roberto)
9:47 AM 6/14/2003




!hola! buenos tardes amigo....
Where are you these days, or can't you say? If you're still in Korea, I don't think I'd go north of Seoul for awhile...! ! !
I'd sure like to get your take on the object( said to be) coming toward our sun...what do you think ?
Lefty


Aye,.. man,.. know ye this knowing:
always beside thee.. walk the Children of Light.
All that man is... is because of his wisdom.
All that he shall be... is the result of his cause.
Great is the struggle between Light and darkness,age old and yet ever new.
Yet, know in a time, far in the future, Light shall be All... and darkness shall fall. THOTH
oona
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Orlando FL
Re: Drama (lefty dave)
9:57 AM 6/14/2003




Lefty please DUCK!!
Please cover your pate!
Planet X is COMING!
Better get your
A** running!
Where is your trench!!?
Quick grab your wench!!!
It may be too LATE!!!!!!!!
Hi Lefty. Thank you too for your good wishes about the 'gig' last night. We thought of you when we palyed the Zydeco song.
Sorry about the awful poetry!! LOL! There were poetry readings last night and I'm stoked!!!
Love ya! Come up here and jam on some foot stompin music, why not.
At least we can all die happy when disaster hits???



The step from KNOWING to DOING is rarely taken. What are you DOING?
Love & Communion
Rememberance & Unity
Oona
WisTex
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Texarkana TX
Re: Drama (roberto)
11:32 AM 6/14/2003




Don't know why I didn't see this when it was first posted.
My mother used to say:
Enough is ENOUGH
But too much is PLENTY.
I think it was an old German saying.
Glad the performance went a-ok Oona.
I love Zedico --choo, choo boogaloo!!
(Oops, make that Zydeco)


[Modified by WisTex, 11:36 AM 6/14/2003]
lefty dave
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Re: Drama (oona)
1:37 PM 6/14/2003




happy for you guys....I got a gig tonite in Crystal River, Peking restuarant...
me


Aye,.. man,.. know ye this knowing:
always beside thee.. walk the Children of Light.
All that man is... is because of his wisdom.
All that he shall be... is the result of his cause.
Great is the struggle between Light and darkness,age old and yet ever new.
Yet, know in a time, far in the future, Light shall be All... and darkness shall fall. THOTH
oona
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Orlando FL
Re: Drama (lefty dave)(Wiz)
1:42 PM 6/14/2003




Wheres that??? We love to eat with chop sticks!! LOL "Break a Leg".
HI Wiz!! Well play the Zydeco YOU bring the Red Hat!!!


The step from KNOWING to DOING is rarely taken. What are you DOING?
Love & Communion
Rememberance & Unity
Oona
Kirabo
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end of the road
9:22 AM 6/29/2003




whose to say life ends
there are many beginnings
All starts are not green


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

bluejay
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west bend wi
Re: end of the road (Kirabo)
5:37 PM 6/29/2003




WATER FOR EMOTION
Emotion flows like an ocean
rising up in tidal waves
crashing against the sandy shores
destroying and creating bays
It eats away at walls we make
and streams within our souls
running betwixt the ties we break
and brings together ones we hold
It can carry you like a boat
or sink you like a sub
It might build up with fury and anger
or surge forth with thoughts of love
It puts mountains underwater
and cleanses filth and dirt
It can bring you life like that of heaven
or drown yourself in hurt
But my emotions flow like an ocean
with the soft mumured whisperings of the sea
My love rises surging like the tide
and you are white sand beaches for me



I am a pilgrim on the edge.On the edge of my perception. We are all travelers on the edge. We are always at the edge of our perception.
bluejay
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west bend wi
Re: end of the road (bluejay)
6:06 PM 6/29/2003




Dragonslayer
gallant knight
with crimsom armor
shining bright
Go forth
trod far
on your mighty steed
To slay the Scales
take care
take heed
Let the thunder
be under your hooves
May your blade strike fair
and cut deep grooves
Beware the teeth
flee from the fire
The Scales is at
the long north spire
Take health old king
it is my quest
for dragonslaying
I do best
My heart is fierce
My eyes are keen
fear not old king
for I will win
And forth he strode
to slay the Scales
to save a princess
and he heard it wail
O, gallant knight
you slothy toad
how dare you enter
my abode
I can see your
secrets
I can steal your
soul
Why aren't thou afraid?
You will die under my feet
I will char you
and roast you
then shall I eat
O, gory Scales
you are a beast
it's your flesh
on which I'll feast
I am not afraid
I fear not death
my shield protects me
from your hellish breath
With blade in hand
you shall not last
I will slay you dragon
this is my quest
Proceeded the knight
forward he fought
thrashing the dragon
in fierce onslaught
The dragon did rear
and kicked out a flame
but it did miss
a shot in vain
The dragon stood full
and reared itself high
while warrior thrust forward
and heard fiersome cry
O, gallant knight
how great thou art
for a blade has struck me
and pierced my heart
O, gallant knight
creature of two hands
you stand upright
you are man's man
Then forward Scales fell
slowly let out breath
and warrior fell chilled
because it was dragon's death
Warrior walked forth
and stepped to locked door
behind was the princess
for who he fought for
Dragonslayer
warrior knight
with crimsom shield
shining bright
I am your princess
your wife to be
come forth my hero
with a kiss for me
Slowly forward he strode
keeping contact with her eyes
then took her in his arms
and kissed her goodbye
I am a gallant knight
it's all I can be
Why free you from a dragon
to be imprinsoned by me
I wish not to be known
I cannot be king
I slayed the Scales
because it's a deedly thing
But come with me
if you will
Come with me
if you must
For you, heavenly princess
are one that I trust
They pressed lips sweetly
jumped on the steed and went
leaving hoofprints behind them
as they rode toward sunset


I am a pilgrim on the edge.On the edge of my perception. We are all travelers on the edge. We are always at the edge of our perception.
the path may look cold
It has charms that warm the heart
travel nature's way


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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Tomorrow
8:11 AM 7/1/2003




I could enter here
Though I prefer to wait
To enter with you


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

bluejay
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west bend wi
Re: Tomorrow (Kirabo)
2:22 PM 7/1/2003




I travelled light
Only with a thought or two
Seeing only sunsets eternal


I am a pilgrim on the edge.On the edge of my perception. We are all travelers on the edge. We are always at the edge of our perception.
Kirabo
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Lilly pads
8:29 AM 7/2/2003




I like to walk here
Between the water and blooms
Singing with the earth


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Point of View
8:28 AM 7/3/2003




Perched indifference
Trees are viewed from the forest
The journey begins


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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wandering
9:53 AM 7/4/2003




A path for blazing
Traveling to glory or
A walk in the park


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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Coming Ashore
8:04 AM 7/5/2003




So where have I stopped
Standing in a strange new place
I'll stay till I'm Home


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Mistal
7:35 AM 7/6/2003




Where's the gentle wind
That helps me on my journey
And tells me of home


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

jumpmouse
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Great American Southwest
Re: Mistal (Kirabo)
9:45 AM 7/6/2003




A child danced today
'Why child?' I asked in wondering
"A soft wind found me!"



"The experiment is to see what free-will will will." - J, Fall 2002.

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escape
6:20 PM 7/6/2003




thoughtless eruption of laughter
compressed sunshine flashed from me
an attack of joy
Muddy-Clothes
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release
6:22 PM 7/6/2003




surprise packet of tears
a moment of depth not conjured
erase beliefs and start over
Kirabo
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Re: release (Muddy-Clothes)
9:17 AM 7/7/2003




Sleeping while you rise
Can one still feel your movement
Or know your entrance


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Australia
Re: release (Kirabo)
8:27 PM 7/7/2003




I dreamed that I found a ransom note
written in God's own hand.
Written so small I could barely
read its message, which said:
"I have your soul, and unless you deliver --
in small, unmarked poems --
the sum of your sorrows, you will never
see it alive again."
Warm Prescence
Chamber 22


live life love balance
Kirabo
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two sides
9:06 AM 7/8/2003




What is so funny
Can happen to anyone
First time for me tho


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

frank
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the little deaths
3:51 PM 7/8/2003




Reality burped.
And a very fine burp it was.
A foul smell expanded into the world
Carrying with it lies and deception.
Someone may starve.
A family may lose all that it has.
So it (, the matrix, the fear component of genetic mind) imposes
This stressful expectation arising from a "shattering event"
And the protectress is dying.
Odd--she still does not know why she has lived so long.
Useless.
Little does she know that she has made oaths in the astral
To protect him until he can declare his truth.
Time for him to declare.
He no longer needs that protection.
His awareness has become sufficient.
Nevertheless, the machinery of the matrix
Can be used against itself (it is only a machine you know and if it does hack into the programming of my mind, I can f --ing hack right back).
Lawyers. Rumors. Things that should not have been said.
Said.
Used to protect--awareness.
dang, but I swear I can see reality morph and shift in wavy undulations this very moment.



Windhorse
"Then he turned to me and said,
'The star light is god's kiss.'
I guess the stars have drawn nearer since."----Hakomi Chamber 3 Music
roberto
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da rule .....
1:01 AM 7/9/2003




quote:

rules of haiku ~
American poets advocate writing in 3-5-3 syllables or 2-3-2, the classical haiku rule is 5-7-5, steming from an even older artform, the tanka, 5-7-5-7-7, This was often split between 2 authors, one writing the 5-7-5, the other *answering* with 7-7, often to be *answered* again with a 5-7-5: thus building tangka chains 1000 and more links long.
Whatever, Robert Frost said poetry without rules is like a tennis match without a net - and it is true also for haiku. And Basho had his motto: "Learn the rules; and then forget them." http://www.dada.at/geoff/haiku/rules/


some lynx ~
http://www.ahapoetry.com/haiku.htm
http://www.fsu.edu/~rsect/factbook2000/lynx.jpg
roberto
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Re: da
1:08 AM 7/9/2003




a day in fine thought
foreboding of other times, places
the mind needs to rest
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
computer my friend
not kind to the body though
it slouches so much ....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
somewhere the answers
to all questions, high and low?
I rather not find
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


[Modified by roberto, 6:14 PM 7/9/2003]
Kirabo
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New Day
9:43 AM 7/9/2003




Time to clean the web
Wash and repair each white strand
Then wait for dinner


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Ontario
Re: New Day (Kirabo)
10:09 AM 7/9/2003




Deers running swiftly
Through cool and darkened forests
Enter a meadow
Warming in the morning sun
Gramps - age 7, second grade Haiku class

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My pillow
8:52 AM 7/10/2003




Just a place to rest
A moment to breath and dream
Out of sight today


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

What is in a father's mind as he sits so close to his son
or a mother's heart that beats so low as the guns sounds 21
A leaders wisdom heals no wound nor consoles one running tear
A nations pride is small indeed to the loss of someone dear
No land can long stand measured by the greatest battle fought
or the amount it's coffers held for those its wars distraught
Heal a heart and build a land as none have seen before
A tender touch is much more sought then a cannons deafening roar



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Great American Southwest
Re: Requiem (Kirabo)
11:14 AM 7/10/2003




Wonderful Kirabo!


"The experiment is to see what free-will will will." - J, Fall 2002.

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Prayer
9:03 AM 7/11/2003




If I asked for you
Would I know you're listening
Could I even hear



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

roberto
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Re: Requiem
9:35 AM 7/11/2003




late night this time zone
the internet knows no time though
no place, time. just here
Awena
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Chicago IL
Re: longing
1:08 PM 7/11/2003




the ripples on a pool
becoming stilled, the water
speaks of sad farewell


Love does not always conquer all . . . sometimes it conquers more . . .
bluejay
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west bend wi
the heaven I knew
9:15 PM 7/11/2003




I am so very homesick
Longing for the heaven that was there
And is and always was


I am a pilgrim on the edge.On the edge of my perception. We are all travelers on the edge. We are always at the edge of our perception.
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Great American Southwest
Re: the heaven I knew (bluejay)
9:18 PM 7/11/2003




nice


"The experiment is to see what free-will will will." - J, Fall 2002.

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a little one about Sedona
7:53 AM 7/12/2003




Home is home that knows me well

The sky in reverence blends evenly
With the horizon of rock and green
Sunrise sunset make an entrance
And slip aside for breath of night or day
Sizeless mountains speak so clearly
Amid the melody filled streams of life and joy
Though silent they deafen a broadcast channel
With soothing songs for the longing heart
The beauty of a beauty's lair
Entrapped by emotion caressed by heart tones
Reach and touch yet is best felt
By something inside yet unopened
The day is new and so familiar
Nothing forwarded nothing repeated
Time is held and returned to life
As to leave the desire to repeat unnoticed



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Wind Dance
1:15 PM 7/13/2003




Could my spirit soar
With wings of the dove in flight
On the sightless wake


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Views
9:09 AM 7/14/2003




Blue beyond the trees
Clear and cool in the high breeze
Early morning sighs


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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summer stream
9:02 AM 7/15/2003




Spirits light morning
A game in the warming sun
Time for everything



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Normal
8:59 AM 7/16/2003




could it be more clear
the way life was meant to be
glancing through the trees


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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small stream
8:47 AM 7/17/2003




little nature sings
sighs and continues the path
to reach my lone heart


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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the pack
9:26 AM 7/18/2003




could be a leader
could be I am to follow
run ahead to see


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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peak
1:23 PM 7/21/2003




the sky shines below
the view is skewed with hillsides
and spirit speaks clear


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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cave
8:59 AM 7/22/2003




is it dark in here
visions and shadows with me
the light redefined


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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truth
2:49 PM 7/22/2003




could you if I knew you be you to me
could you if you want to be you to me
a gift that no one would know of
a moment that would be ours
could you if I asked you be you to me



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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nap
8:48 AM 7/23/2003




the white striped day sleep
carries away the sunlight
into soft sunsets



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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clouds
8:43 AM 7/24/2003




is the land below
Or is the sky where we walk
our minds chose the path


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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The Stand
10:35 AM 7/24/2003




The mirror panel and its view
looks across reflected news
its wishes wasted on imaged man
and things are done over again
its channeled windows cold embrace
what else is for this human race
Man wastes himself and then moves on
never renewing in mournings dawn
Mirrors connect in unseen links
through narrow tunnels refections slink
man's past bounces off dim dank walls
answers not to enlightened calls
Man's demise is well at hand
leading on past promised lands
Man's message is scribbled blind
and read aloud from a stop sign
I will no longer feel because no one notices
I will no longer fear because no one is brave
I will no longer write because no one talks
I will no longer stand because no one walks
I will not longer vote because none have worth



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey
shadows carved in dusk
dark yet visible to me
I see what I want


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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lttle stream
7:11 AM 7/26/2003




falls and water wash
the view for each day to see
as we sit and wait


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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pond
7:19 AM 7/27/2003




water washes us
cools us reflects us wets us
helps us see ourselves


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Bob Hope
9:34 AM 7/28/2003




some treasures should live
In hearts and minds forever
never fill the void



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Atitude
9:12 AM 7/29/2003




I wish I could see
without climbing this tall tree
But I love the view


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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rest
9:23 AM 7/30/2003




sleep the sleep of life
one eye open one eye closed
waiting for the dawn


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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one star
9:22 AM 7/31/2003




a dusk well hidden
shimmers in a twilight gloom
daybreak darkens none


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

North Star
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Rainier WA
Re: one star (Kirabo)
5:19 PM 7/31/2003





Battles of Vissisitudes
The field back and away
Deep in what I thought solitude
But no, lingering, on the periphery,
shadows,
slinking around my center
trying to appear unintrusive
until they capture me when I step out.
I see them
I feel them
thin hot threads like tentacles
reaching, reaching to contaminate
Detached, I watch
no resistance
no reaction
as they pass through
to another side.


I am a fragment of FIRST SOURCE imbued with IT'S capabilities
Kirabo
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the flock
8:46 AM 8/1/2003




its a union thing
a few beings with shared thoughts
birds of a feather


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

North Star
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Rainier WA
Re: one star (North Star)
1:31 PM 8/3/2003




Birds of a feather
flock together
so the saying goes.
One of a kind
is hard enough to find
let alone a flock
that already knows.



I am a fragment of FIRST SOURCE imbued with IT'S capabilities
Kirabo
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Buffalo
9:11 AM 8/4/2003




once many stand stilled
alone to gaze distantly
thinking what could be


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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underbrush
10:01 AM 8/5/2003




watching from my room
shadowy gloom blooms too soon
I close the light tight


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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evolution
9:03 AM 8/6/2003




nature sees all pain
feels the seasons change ahead
of the coming storm


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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laying on the lawn
9:02 AM 8/7/2003




Lively underside
changing only point of view
and the light of day


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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snow top mountains
9:10 AM 8/8/2003




white will whisper when
winds wind with willowing words
wondering who waits


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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WaiPounamu Aotearoa (NZ)
Re: snow top mountains (Kirabo)
1:49 AM 8/11/2003




What?
Wild wet wanton women whispering
with wonderful words
well willing we watched waiting while wenches
wondered why whenever we woke,
wherever we went was wacky weather,
well what will we win when we want war?



When I (=I+FS) Create My (=FS+I) New Universe - We (=FSI) Will Be Transformed (= (*))
Q: What is a 'neutral' emotion?
A: Unconditional Love
I Think - Therefore Am I Stupid?
SaDStringFinger
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Re: snow top mountains (PuPPet)
8:55 AM 8/11/2003




waskiwy wabbit


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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atitude
8:55 AM 8/11/2003




great stone face falters
looking to the horizon
watching a smile rise


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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At last sunrise
4:24 PM 8/11/2003




Still, one more sunrise breaks the horizon
Lifting lightly bottomed clouds and me
I shift not, my head resting back
Each ray is marked deserving
As I outline this days end
Cool air filtered to
Warm me slightly
And set pall
Bearing
Dusk



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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WaiPounamu Aotearoa (NZ)
Re: At last sunrise (Kirabo)
6:45 PM 8/11/2003




That
Is Go
And Do
Good In
The Thing
Which Sees
Beauty Grow
Into Purity Of
Vision Without
And Within That
Which Embraces
As Truthfully As It


[Modified by PuPPet, 6:48 PM 8/11/2003]


When I (=I+FS) Create My (=FS+I) New Universe - We (=FSI) Will Be Transformed (= (*))
Q: What is a 'neutral' emotion?
A: Unconditional Love
I Think - Therefore Am I Stupid?
SaDStringFinger
Liberates


When I (=I+FS) Create My (=FS+I) New Universe - We (=FSI) Will Be Transformed (= (*))
Q: What is a 'neutral' emotion?
A: Unconditional Love
I Think - Therefore Am I Stupid?
SaDStringFinger
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Risen
9:09 AM 8/12/2003




roll the world aside
and let the light shine outward
rise and walk the road


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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the final greed
2:18 PM 8/12/2003




We talk as if words will run out
We write as if we don't need trees
We fight as if there is a drop of blood left
And we pray as if we need help
We ask as if there are no more answers coming
We walk as if we are addicted to cars
We eat as if this meal is the last
And we pray as if we want help
We search as if there is no place to hide
We practice as if there is no more preaching
We save as if there is no needy
And we pray....


[Modified by Kirabo, 2:57 PM 8/12/2003]


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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search light
8:54 AM 8/13/2003




lighting the way west
breaking the shadowy night
where is the shoreline


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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WaiPounamu Aotearoa (NZ)
Re: search light (Kirabo)
1:08 PM 8/13/2003




quote:

lighting the way west
breaking the shadowy night
where is the shoreline

We are on our way now very soon
Singing our song such a cheerful tune
A path without end and neither beginning
Has a lot to do with the song we are singing.



When I (=I+FS) Create My (=FS+I) New Universe - We (=FSI) Will Be Transformed (= (*))
Q: What is a 'neutral' emotion?
A: Unconditional Love
I Think - Therefore Am I Stupid?
SaDStringFinger
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a stream in the winter
9:11 AM 8/14/2003




water breaks the white
bringing life to the forest
thirsty in the snow


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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superlatives
8:36 AM 8/15/2003




mountains mix with clouds
hilly paths of dieties
answer to the call


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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undergrowth
7:22 AM 8/17/2003




the colors will fade
so the clearly can now see
forest and the trees



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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hungry rites
10:29 AM 8/18/2003




mantis praying that
a meal will drop by today
don't move just a wait


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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rocks
8:48 AM 8/19/2003




granite stone faces
watching and waiting for days
End no where in sight


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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summer remnants
7:35 AM 8/20/2003




dusty feelings fell
Alongside the long lost words
in reposed darkness



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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distance
9:03 AM 8/21/2003




each distance holds views
Watched and dreamed amid long strides
from the view behind


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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wading
8:56 AM 8/22/2003




the shallow end calls
waiting to cooly refresh
Hidden are the depths


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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lunch
7:27 AM 8/23/2003




I'll just sit and eat
my friends are watching for cars
I am so lucky


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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night set
7:21 AM 8/24/2003




shadows shackled feet
suns rays capture silhouettes
they ransom daylight


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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habits
9:06 AM 8/25/2003




ever as I start
each morning new and so bright
flowers and their sent


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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good day
8:56 AM 8/26/2003




Colored silhouettes
Mark the night call of the sky
Dawn's a day away


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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days end
8:25 AM 8/27/2003




Wish to hold the sun
And keep it safe all night long
making morning last


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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morning light
9:46 AM 8/28/2003




something disturbed me
don't like it when that happens
rather be asleep


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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answered prayers
10:41 AM 8/28/2003




There is no faith
at the good end of a gun
A deity does not hear
The chamber set and projectile fly
No...prayer at the sight is heard
No...acknowledgment noted
No...side was granted
There is not faith
from justice delivered in anger
No...right was wronged with might
No...research deserved to advance
No...life was not saved



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey
I watched the crippled bird
Twisted and excited
Cornered in a box
This dieing pigeon
Knowing it's demised
I watched this crippled bird
My friends handed me a stone
Calling me to drop it
Put an end to the suffering
This pained little bird
Watching from its side
Hearing my friends words
How easy it would be
To set the stone free
And land it on the bird
So simple for me to do
Just raise my arm and in or two
And crush this little bird
No...watching was all I did
It was enough for me
To watch this bird at the end of life
Not for me to take
Not for me to give



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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winter bird
9:17 AM 8/29/2003




surprise me snow bird
while you sit and wait for spring
warm me with your flight


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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underwater mountains
7:26 AM 8/30/2003




things that divide us
appear from nowhere and then
disappear to stay


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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ourtrageous
7:29 AM 8/31/2003




sun under the clouds
light up the world from below
morning's wonderful



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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a song
7:27 AM 9/1/2003




a gift brought to you
it is the best I can do
keep it by your heart


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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portals
9:04 AM 9/2/2003




my friend it is time
to enter the other world
challenge what is new


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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friend
11:35 AM 9/3/2003




a friend in my hand
to touch and help through the day
not to own and hold


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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Epitaph
2:54 PM 9/3/2003




Lay me to rest at the end of year
Days that are less then cool when they touch
Evenings that arrive too soon and mornings
That wait to rise on the day
Put me down for the place where the sun does not see
A good distance from the highway
A place difficult to visit where no one could shed the tears
of condolences meant not for me
Lay me to rest when the year is done
Alongside a wrangled old tree waiting for the thaw
Above a nestled thicket on a cloudy day
The sun would have no place
I'll walk to that place and mark the ground with
Amends to the way I lived
Acknowledgement to those that wanted more
A simple faith for what is to come



Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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golden west
9:07 AM 9/4/2003




dusty western plains
sleepy under sand and sun
Let the rains refresh


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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blooms
8:50 AM 9/5/2003




open the morning
with the shine of natures lure
how the flower blooms


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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breakfast
7:19 AM 9/6/2003




a feast was left here
for me to enjoy today
one day at a time


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

Kirabo
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Woods Sprite
8:01 AM 9/7/2003




lady in the woods
hauntingly playing each day
delighting the nights


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is certain for those who are friends. The loss of a friend is like that of a limb. Time may heal the anguish of the wound, but the loss cannot be repaired. - Robert Southey

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diving
7:32 AM 9/8/2003




enter the water
leaving the known world behind
seize the tranquil air


Don't be dismayed at good-byes. A farewell is necessary before we can meet again and meeting again, after moments or a lifetime, is

_________________
http://rick-says.livejournal.com/ <----Blog, Poetry, etc.


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 Post subject: Lost Poetry
PostPosted: Wed May 04, 2005 9:47 pm 
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Location: The Right side of Lemuria
Well, that's all the poetry I had saved from the old forum.
Please feel free to contribute anything you like.
Take care,
Rick.

Poem in an image enclosed.

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Fri May 06, 2005 5:56 pm 
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Posts: 960
Location: Athens / Greece
Hey Rick, I read your complain the other day about Lyricus movie not saying about poetry. Have you read the small leaflet/cover that comes with AAP Ch. 18-24 music cd?

It sais about how integrated all the components (including poetry) are. In fact it has around 8-10 pages of poems which are simply great (remember I must push myself to read poetry - but I really like these). I imagine the voice of the poet being my Wholeness Navigator and the recepient my Entity. Human personality is cast aside for a while.

All these poems have to do with the fusion of WN+Entity or bringing closer the Wholeness Navigator (personalised FS fragment) closer to one's consciousness/heart.


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 Post subject: Dear Control Structure.
PostPosted: Sat May 07, 2005 1:24 am 
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Location: The Right side of Lemuria
If James really can time travel, maybe someone already warned him that one day, I would ask him to kiss my ass.
Who knows?
Hey, I just said it again, didn't I?
I was so peaceful and placid and harmless until Jesus-Hitler got on a control trip.

They took down a lot of stuff I had intended to teach people about some hidden meanings in the poetry.
[url=http://metatrance.org/forum/viewtopic.php?p=115&sid=9da4d369bfd8487bced3c50caae43653#115]http://metatrance.org/forum/viewtopic.php?p=115&sid=9da4d369bfd8487bced3c50caae43653#115[/url]

That is a link to the keys of Enoch meditation I think is sort of important for the future. It's complex, not everyone will resonate with it and it's long and boring.

Any so called order that is so controlled, fearful and misdirected to silence voices in their own forum that pretenses to be a teaching facility is inspired to do so by other intents besides a connection to source.

Source does not Judge, source is love.

Non-judgement is a central precept of Christ Conscienceness.
Another is uncodnitional love.

What the WingMakers call a Woleness Navigator is your living light merkaba vehicle, the body of light.
It is geometric in form.

I think I may have said enough for the left brained today.

Banana-fish~!
~r

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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Thu Jul 14, 2005 12:54 pm 
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Location: B.C. Canada
I dreamed a dream
Of mystic places
Far off lands
And a thousand faces.


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sun Jul 17, 2005 12:15 pm 
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Location: B.C. Canada
The night wind
Spirals & spins
Echoing as it sings
Through unknown places
Leaving traces
Of invisible wings.


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Tue Jul 19, 2005 3:37 pm 
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Location: B.C. Canada
I see the door
And I’ve seen it before
I went through
How about you?


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sun Jul 24, 2005 12:35 pm 
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Location: B.C. Canada
So many mountains to move
In quiet places
Listen for the sound unwound
Where footsteps leave no traces.


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Sat Jul 30, 2005 1:47 pm 
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Location: B.C. Canada
Ride the wave
Of infinity
Surf the shores
Of divinity
Feel the ecstasy
Of being.


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 Post subject: Prayer
PostPosted: Mon Aug 15, 2005 10:18 am 
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Posts: 460
Location: Sedona, AZ.
often above wishes
I ask for simple knowing
and a thought with you

_________________
Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955)
French Jesuit, paleontologist, biologist and philosopher


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 Post subject: The Path
PostPosted: Tue Aug 16, 2005 10:47 am 
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Location: Sedona, AZ.
from where I perceive
calming waters and warm rocks
home in any view

_________________
Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955)
French Jesuit, paleontologist, biologist and philosopher


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 Post subject: the Edge
PostPosted: Wed Aug 17, 2005 11:25 am 
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Location: Sedona, AZ.
My world of beauty
nears a bridge of graying views
and seeing things stilled

_________________
Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955)
French Jesuit, paleontologist, biologist and philosopher


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 Post subject:
PostPosted: Thu Aug 18, 2005 4:27 am 
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Location: B.C. Canada
Put your mind on the shelf
Turn into yourself
Be free
To be.


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 Post subject: Searching
PostPosted: Thu Aug 18, 2005 10:12 am 
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Location: Sedona, AZ.
not much to pray for
I have all I need today
Are there needs for you

_________________
Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955)
French Jesuit, paleontologist, biologist and philosopher


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 Post subject: laid to rest
PostPosted: Fri Aug 19, 2005 11:15 am 
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Posts: 460
Location: Sedona, AZ.
granite sees granite
while many pasts lie beneath
a plot with a view

_________________
Someday, after mastering the winds, the waves, the tides and gravity, we shall harness for God the energies of love, and then, for a second time in the history of the world, man will have discovered fire.

Pierre Teilhard de Chardin (1881-1955)
French Jesuit, paleontologist, biologist and philosopher


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