cheese and whine ...

Do my pains...

Yearns...

Outcries and heartburns not churn the bile of your gut with each plea of please listen to me?

The desperate need to sit beside and confide...

To unravel from beneath the icicles of stone cold gravel

Our crossed paths far out of reach...

Parallel and secretly soul whispered for our destined and now travelled.

These moans of old flashes return and haunt 
and seek to taunt this venture of soul proprietorship.

 But here and now no room to spare for such allowance for an unwarranted expired internship.

To scratch the protective dermis of old...

Bandaged wounds of dreams once told...

To bare the mapped affliction and expose it to new infection with the risk of another flare...

These antibodies will have no such affair.

But to treat with care as sole barer...

Merely to share this intimate and once b4 disclosed abrasion.

Intention not to impair the soul beneficiary
 but to emancipate a gorged keeper of insanity from indulgence of these revelations within this vessel of deliria for shared realizations of fading hysteria

So my yearns…

outcries 
and heartburns 
not in seek of a target to bulls eye...
But merely to reveal sum of the heal 

So my pours of whine now thaw 
within mine mind and seeks hand held with awe to mature...

Endeavour is the cure for the sweetest most rich of pure..

Pinch of Salt

Twenty four hours of perpetual seconds that culminate and prevent souls to eliviate the pinacle evolutionary paralysis of the being that thrives in souls not to die...

Brink of mindless society mezmerizes my intellectual self... in questioning parallels of the true essense in which we... this community.... claim to be.... proprietors of liberty...

To take each step through crowds of androids .... batteries recharge each day.... filled cavities of chemicals to induce desired requirements for happiness and cures of depression

Humanity and the rat-race to doom... self-induced insanity for requirements of longevity of perceived insanity and constant intake of man-made deformative grades of “My Life”...

Die humans

Die souless beings

Or is it just within purgatory that your soul finds itself.... the place we call EARTH..

The time is now for re-birth

can you feel it ...

Pin the point of retentive reticulation of the aggression

And deep temptatioin to interigate terrorism of The Nothing for purposes of the escape.

Does the Chain reaction of the twitching nerves and scratched itches and scars in
Truth of YOU... the enemy – aim to dissect the rawth of my poison that suckles on life of the inevitable fall in “BE”.

The trechery of myself in my own demented, fear-infested depths of soul cannot be loved due to re-occuring visits of unpure. 

The temptation and addiction in the want to cure your cause of destruction will only be deemed passed once WE seek the ultimate of redemption... and the mistreated misbelief will then only retreat.

Found only in the light and quiet - the enemy of The Nothingness

The truth of light, takes delight and excites for first flight in float of my right to spontaneous ignite...

...s w e e t n e w g r e e n...

Green heaps and leaved sheeths

sweet smells; long stretched out unfolding bulb

Held and sheltered; well kept secrets ready reel and peel to taste 

The Heal

Antidote to my madness within the roots of apparent blossoming flowers

Sweet colours purple, red, yellow...

Hello... bitter-sweet weeping willow

woven weaves

bead drenched dreads
sweet locks, hair-strand threads


new roots for you nestle


unknown visitor
requests - foreign and seems forlorn
but through this...
all seems to become untorn...


roots
new growth nurtured lengths
taken in by deep breathes
and hopes in yes...
no more of this suppressed


locks ground and rubbed through and between palms and finger tips
sculptured new essence in being's presence


weave each sleeve and slip on in serenity the ultimate deity


blessings, wound dressings.... through The Believe - this is achieved...

p a i n t e d s k y

in perfection and flight

blended and mended for mortal beings delight

pierced through un-tinted panes ... 

so light continues to persevere through tainted pains of old...

So the immaculate of soul is rendered 

and not in self-less acts that devour and envelop in cold...

as thin as air

cotton top horizons

teal streaked heavens

gusts of winds in change procalim to maintain amidstt anticipated storms the refrain

"I will reclaim"...

come what may

new rays

bright days

emulated by hearts desires to fly as the bird in own flight

un-oppressed in belly filled with demons

seated by rows of 6 running back to front and front to back

heavily held with baggage and crowd

ready to free fall to embrace the call

the other side of silence

free of hate-full self-inflicted indulgence 

untangable pains of hurts ... violence