An Angel's Retire

      I know you must be tormented-
  the nihilist of narcissistic obsessions;
                                                 

   weaving in and out only,

                

    of your own grandeur , your own illusions,

while underneath,

you steep some falsetto's
  of echoing hatred, seeping of self despise.



  The allure of the dark, a strange drawl; an elusive torment,
because as all time passes, not the veil between
  you nor I

That never lifts.


Every thought, behind every breath is blanketed-
  the charcoals like wretched claws,
pulling me deep
I imagine, this place, is the place we meet.
perhaps more capable of Love, Dark Thing,
what it is that binds us,
  is the sweet promise of your blindfolds,
and my hands bound.

For a night, your Demons take me to Bed, while I finally allow them this one occasion,
to lay with an Angel-
  that is bound you had made me-
    that I would do that for you
and only you.


  All the corners of my own ego
cower more, as loss of concern
  drive's passion's inferno.

Cloaked, I decided long ago,
 to embrace the Shadow of my God,

Much as I embrace the life.

  Cowardly, I stay where it's warm, yet under shade,
never walking into the path of your domination...fearful..
  that I might die
by the bind of you.

Twas the bind by both, then devour and consume me whole- I will live out my days on this Earth, dancing our shadows and not bound by any taboo of goodness.

  and only you, can blindfold me.  By the moonlight.  by your will.
and by the very real cloth, that you place over my eyes, and knot behind my head.

kneeled,  once and for all,
might I submit,
thy dance be done.

  naked, a moon shade casting through the window
and my body, finally ownly yours
to do with
  as you please.

  my flesh glowing a silver blue from the night sky
shades casted against my curves,
now every inch yours, as you view my kneeled submission, in wrapped hands,
begging eyes, and your gag to test
  my commitment.

I beg you
to bind me.

to own me.

to never stop.

to let me in.

to open to the way I want to love you,
as you open to the way I want to be loved.

let me drag you into the light,
as you soil
  my every belief system,

and replace it with something
  we make.
something that is ours.
where we are an us.

and I will worry nothing more
of this world,
nor her need of God.

   This is how much I love you.
To give you everything.  yet no fool...

I will die by you, or leave-  fool is all lovers, and you,
 as cowardly as I.

  Blindfold your Angel.  Snuff her might.  Allow her submission.
bare her.
  Make our Children.
Love.

and let us,
Demon, Angel, and Man

defy God.

Bare me.
and let us defy all reason.
  Give our children the curse and might of our divine throwns,
Good and Evil,

and take my hand.
  Bind it in daylight by ring,
and night, by band

  and come morning I can reveal God's heaven..
   while night, we roam, dancing the Devil's great Test.

I am willing to meet you half way- to dip my body in the black,
and see if I still emerge.

  Can you, Man and Demons,
face the love and warmth of Dawn's Halo?

Can you bathe in the Spring of Divine will, and emerge still Dark?
 I am a testatment that the dark always lives,

as does the light, My Life, My Love.

Devour me.

Bare me.

Meet me.

I miss the kingdom you created-
  psychotic and lustful,
of the devil's promise alone.

God remained, the love between us, in all that darkness.
  the only light,
and it was enough.

I never submitted.
  I wasn't taught to.
not but for God.

and you,
 you were the only one to dispel that.
to promise of an abyss that lured me desperately.
  you pressed  the sins of Eve
right out of my obedience,

and together,
we ate of fruits we could never undo.

I fell in Love, with the Enemy.

  never submitted,
til' now, I beg, You. 

 

Facebook Reparation

Content.  Had Become soul-less.
Habitats for cohesion, evolved, and by implementation,
How candidly gone to drive us mad.
Down.
To separate us.
Divide.

     Reparation's callous controls
as content dries of residual faceless feeds
and echo chambers,
and pictures,
and trends,
and naked women all over
  every
echo chamber known to society's men.

Callousness grows like weeds in wine gardens-
  a virus gorging out of Los Angeles,
New York,
Chicago.

The cities go blue.  We hold.  The life-blood of passion burning bright
in the torches
   of patriots still,
while we all go mad arguing truths.

God stay silent,
  while the omens go unheard.

I'm sorry, too big a burden to deliver-
the wretched caring of men.


  Bleach-bit, worn out, pixels drying up
  my running veins.
Yet blown, down, hollow
only some stack of cards, and nothing more.

Was but a faded castle of paper thin illusions,
  and yet, the real world, a scoped mirror,

to our deepest fears anyhow,
as long as we stay, running.

  Roots calcify over my beating veins,
blood rushing through torrents like lava,
invisible to core.

  I became something more long ago, the Earth, taking me up, in bits and pieces.

      Reminding me,
I am of Her; I can sustain no breath Gaia not allows.

Flesh restores, slipping, sipping only like the bees of nectar.  Holy Refrain, will dig our flesh a lonely grave.

I miss Love, like slipping my feet in the wild flowers, and upon the earth's skirt.
  The repave of social collisions and societal antidotes,
Haunted ever by the evil lurking in the subtle undergrounds

Of Masters,
vs.
their ruled.

  Implored, Chained, and having gone to battle, no shield shall protect me more than Arc's.
Only the Shield of the Most High,

  and even still.
Granted, and imposed,

I will come to God, covered in Pig stool.
  For I have been a fool and sinned as any man.  Lied.  Stolen.  Committed Adultery.  Even binding my acts to God's name.

We all are wretchedly sure, and as ignorant as infants.  I can not even apologize for this.

Mucked, I have been tossed and thrown without vengeance.

  I have been betrayed, and left to fend.
So, in Gaia's grace, I rest my head, and Pray.

      It is in God's grace in the heaven's that I connect the Holy light,
with the practician of the Earth.

I am restored because I choose to Love.
  Against all hollow undergrounds,

and clown journalism, your Face, goes blank, and lifeless,
  only digital codes,
plastered loosely,

of record-less content.

Redemption

Everything is existential now-a-days.
I presume, when it comes to the human brain- the way we ponder purpose and existence, 
  that existentialism dates back as far as evolution.



I pick up this blunt as if putting my hand on the trigger.
  Everything is slowed down.  Precise.  Of the moment, second,
by
second,

by second. 

Everything is a choice. 
and following, an equal opportunity for contemplation;
some would argue,

Therefore also Redemption. 

     If I seek Redemption,
it is in the happiness of This life. 


I love God, But do not fear him. 
Rather to be feared is the pain possible of this life,
second,
by second

by second. 

But I would rather not fear,
that either. 

  Precise. 

Calculated.  Cold.  Surrendering.  Nonchalant.  Examining. 
Everything

is existential. 
Including us. 

The Boy and his Bird

I have thousands of women in this soul,
  Tied up in this life,
And the era’s before my birth;
  Bound to histories both buried and excavated.

The woman whom calls herself my mother,
  Between us now,
 Is no Mother I recognize,
  Though I have scoured my beaten heart trying-
  Though I have wept, pled, and bled to understand the sacrifice of such unfamiliarities.

Notions are torrid rains and how friendships change
 And life, as it evolves the decades- regression becoming a fad
Along with Nationalism, it's opposition against a modern book burning.

To fall in love now a days,
  I Imagine is as uncertain as in war times,
Lovers and Fathers, off to war.

Loving has been my War.
  Loving the Truth.  
 
And the truth, loving me back.
Tumultuous, I could never
    Get
Enough, I remember.

I still can't.

  Hatched on the ground,
I attempt finding my way around all enemy territories,
In predators' lands,
                         Everything is larger, stronger, and smarter than

    The shell I stumbled out of.

Yet, here, years later, I am grown and in flight.

I have my wings and but a few scars, forgotten once I take the air again.

I love him.  And he is a Good Boy to Love.
  Found somehow tucked away, as if there all along.
 
A bird can not claim the Air, though she may claim the truth.
  And I am in Love once more,

     it feels Divine this time.  Whole.  Lost.  Luded.  Lured.
Loved.

     Coming to his window, the light is sharper,
My skies brighter,
  A purpose rendered in connection-

A Human Boy,
  Had become mine, this tiny earth creature of but the smallest wings
And most chittering of souls.

  And there I'd wait, somedauys perched upon his sil, and resting in the fragrant shadows and songs under his trees,
     Where they became my tree; and soon I had forgotten any other home.  Soon,
His window sil was all I would remember of Paradise.

  He became my past, because it was always ever, meant to be.
Merged.

And now I remember nothing but this Paradise.  No pain. No reality.  No label to procure, but the freeedom of the Air under Love's Blue skies, and Orchird Trees.

Indebted to my Human Boy,
  I will die here, while he asks nothing of me, Keeping his window open, and not a day once closed.  He has my water and seed,
  And leaves me wanting for nothing;

I see him look for me when I fly away;
  I see a new treat when I perch back home.
I see relief, in this Boy's love of me, giving these human's a grace all other animals stand up to.

He is Love, this Man.
  He knows the God that made him and I.

I think I know,
  Why I've come.

Why we are bound and never sold, but to the other.
   His Love is God's awakening, and I am his bird

Fearing no Flight, ever again...
  A Home, now near by.

A resting place.
Someone,

Waiting my return.

   

Tincture of the Fae

One day,
You will fall in love with me.

My fingers will run your hair, scalp of my tips
Doubt at my bossum,
As you rest your heavy thougts into the blanketed navigation
Of being taken in.

You do not need me,
But here I dwell.
Dwell like a well, on your land.
Emerged.  Asked for.  Loved.

The shame,
  I want to smear it all over my body,
Your hands the weapon,
Your release, my Light.
  Breathe into everything, because Someone is coming to the multiverse with me.
On a cloud,
Elsewhere.
Between the veil; kneel or hail.

My Love is my God, and God, do I love you!
  Tapered and tempered, masks reveal other saids.

My touch a potion,
And of which I wish you to drink.
Needing your closed eyes all over me.
Your lost soul to the touch alone , of Love.
   Let me
  Touch
   You.

Surrender.  To the Hello game.
And if not, my creature,
Then goodbye once again.

Rather I,
Take you into my forest,
And Let you fall in love with what I call home.

Rather I kiss you with the stroke of touch.
Missing my human
  When he is gone and such.

The Snailing

The Snailling:

Believe me child,
  Take heed.  The reciprocity is a callous, ferocious thing.
Life,
    She inhales, and impales, all while bringing breath to thee.

I am a snail, in the morn, when all is sound, and there had been
  So much time, for
                                      Myself.

Now, I am the retribution, of a fierce-hold's intent,
   Falling apart a navigated line,
Balancing one side at a time,
  As Foot occupation's walk,

Had become the tale of me-
Brave and futile.

Snailing,
   Tiny creature now as fragile as me,
How can I cover you, while my morning fades into another day?

My time is wearing thin, and soon the sun, in all it's wholeness,
Shall seek to gobble thee up.

Weary, tiny
  Seat of my soul,
I know
    Nothing  to console you
Of this life.

If ye feast on star berries,
Then your life has been blessed,
  And we have known here,
Patches and field's
of this wonderful bitterness.

A Dune field
And a bluff of mild lore
A song down of Canterbury too
 Our life has been a blessed one,
Lil' Snailing, it's been in the love of two.

Pollination

Pollination

Time.
Time to be dipped in a soil, ripened for gestating
Time, to bask in an underground sun.

Time.  To linger for a while,
Hibernating .  Waiting, for just the right moment,
The right time
To peak one wall's surface
To a dying danger of the light,
Leaving one wall forever behind

Til death once more.

Where once I was intangible, without senses
  Now there is a world I am surrounded by,
And a river that runs close, even though I fear as all the other flowers and weeds,
Just when a rain won't come.

My death to be by the nature of that which I thrive of;
    The Sun.
Mighty Odious Body
  Of everything pervading in me.
  Grieving over, retribution a harmony
Of time lapses
Quadrants shaking loose in dimensional gaps
Jumps between portholes in time.

Time, my Love,
  Time.

Spiraling upwards towards a fray
Onward I bloom, til I turn downward one day,
And away from the sky, oh my beloved blue sun
And towards a curve once more.

Beloved dance
A motion of math, the Fibonacci Sequence
My core vibration outlasting all days and nights
Til at last,I wilt.

I lived my life, full, entangled
Drenched, and parched
Dreading Summers,
And Warful Winters
And Blooming again,
Like a Scotland Spring.
  It was all I could ever ask for.

And so I lived.  Perishing still,
  Downward I go,
Returning once more

To the wall of the underground.

A Phoenix Heart

Maybe if just to tie my heart in a noose.
So to can't fall loose.
So it can't breathe the in's and out's of Men's fickle truths;
So I don't have to hide or soothe.

My heart is a head tilted down,
A flower wilted and drowned.
A solemn division for attention,
Never found.
A weeping epitome
Having lost it's sound.

It is a scream only full of silence,
A desperation knowing no mirror-
What is in me, a disturbing distance
Of having no love returned here.

My value, a bird unreturned to it's nest,
My discipline, the meeting of the rest
I'm walking, walking a shoreline
With only ghosts of love as my past.

Even the faces of trust,
An illusion of shattered dust
Even my faces of Love,
A seizing of rust.

Summer to Autumn
Promise of Sun, unengaged
Temperatures of Warmth
Quickly turning to Haze

My Shoreline, chilly, and so longingly of the deep
I am alone here again once more
Just a Future, a chill, and me.

In the black blue against the sea,
It is not that all is lost..
But I was beginning to Love once more,
And even that's been lost.

One set of prints in the sand,
One thing taken once more...
So used to being taken for what I have,
As quickly as it slips out the door.

So maybe, If just to tie my heart in a noose,
And no more can be taken of...
As a man promises to love a flower,
But how easily Plucked, then given up.

Never knowing,
Never knowing,

Any damage left and done

As if locked away, to be forgotten so, something in me fades
A promise of Love, never honored
A tempest of mascarades.

So what was love,
But a loss of all,
A fire set ablaze,
Unmet and matched
And consuming all
As a spark one neglected to tame.

As easy it was to start something so,
I watched him walk away..
Leaving me in desperation so,
As I burned and caught all in flame.

And yet in a center of Ash,
The dust of condition, my heart still remains-
A pheonix so, but I wonder still,
If to procure death through rope, stead of flame.

Black Butterfly Leaks

No thing can fill a leaking vessel,
And at the seams,
I am dripping dry.

No ration left in me;
What grace?
My Love is all over the floor, a puddle around me bare,
Evaporating
And
My eyes down,

Wondering how a life could become this still image,
This endless leak,
Of myself at my own feet.

Here, I am looking at God, left of bruises as reflections of me, and cries for death that echo whispering screams from my liquid mirror.
The beauty seems trapped in the dark reflections that meet no escape-

A Black Butterfly
Evaporating away.

There is no filling
A seeping vessel; I just leak-

That is what God and I are up to;

We are in me
Dripping together,
Watching, together,
And slowly I am evaporating with the scene.
Drying up.
Parched.

Watching...
Myself all over the floor.

Fire Dance

My heart dies everyday;
You have awakened it's fire-

A vivid portrait, I'm afraid,
Of breathing in slights
I remember now,
Being undeserving of.


You shudder,
And I sway
Just left or right
To balance the trot we tamper with.

As coy and tempered as I, underneath it all stirs relentlessly
Foolishly and weak
Reaping already
Starved seeds sown,

Then plucked.

If it's not seeing me that scares me,
It's being seen.

Rot with havoc, intestines turned,
I Un-nerve, paralyzingly my own body-

The thought of being burned again is a memory of melting flesh and the smell of brazen fire, against freckles for ash.
the scars intrude far past my skin, leaviing the lingering of agony,
Even in the after-math.
What is a burned girl and is she desirable for dance? The dance that made her what she is?
It took me once.
And now, I can't say I recognize what's been made.
Is there still love even beneathe my fresh flesh?
Is it worthy?
Will the audience have me?
Will she ever be loved?
After, all

I am just a burned girl.
What grace in Cindered pores?
What God in ovens of power?
I can't tell...

Has the fire won?
Have I let it?

Neptune

I don't want to peel again,
Or be reborn.

The water in the soil is seeping in,
And what's amassing, a root or a thorn;
inward
Is Stirring a storm.

I think I feel the sea and might
But second-guessed, I linger-
A tree taken away one night,
Awash and all.

Entranced and tracing,
I wade to thee
Upon your motion
And the way we breathe,
Lulled and lulling
Yet can not I sleep.

I wonder what this'll reap?
A relationship of doom?
Faith and death.

As I walk faith-bound,
Hypnotized to the far side of the moon
Entrenched I find myself waist deep
In the thick of you.
Wading,
Wading,

And the tide coming in...

Neptune is an illusion....

But I am staring at it, beyond the moon,
Much beyond,
Knowing he was the last to save me..

Lulled and lulling,
Wading.

Tide...

Coming in...

Devil's Toy

I married you, I remember..
     In a deep shadow under a moonless sky, beneathe rafter-beams, hay...
  You had claws then.  A Demon.

I gave God up.  You hypnotized me with a Love I knew was forbidden.
I gave God up, in those shadows..
And became devoured in our invisible repeats
Night after night,
Where I would weep alone, in my bed..

Wondering not where God was, but Rather you instead.

Funny though...

God
Never
Left.

No.

Just You, My Beast.
Just you.

Path into the Middle-Land

I've flipped. Over my life tangents like pancakes,

Til' they are perfect for the day.  Honey or maple, to a choice marmalade and it's all, a refined dance gone right and wrong.

The "they" everybody speaks of, they whisper show and tell, some of it real...

  I nod my head in agreement thinking off to testimonies my own, and tracing the flash drive of my memory in pics.

If ever such a God does exist, sure I have met "Him" most in peaks of flash dancing rains and shouts to the Earth and all Heavens how much I sync into thee.

Moments of great defiance come in headphones on the streets...role models in ear muffs and parents how likely around?

Of love, I have eaten it bare, fruit and carcasses, partaking in the flesh eating of things...are measures of it washed clean, or already "forgiven" perhaps, and by whom?

Shall we allow ever to forgive ourselves? And what is man?

Refined down like worn jewelry on a weathering woman's hands, I smite the arrogance and yet bow abashedly.
  Exonerate Peace.

I have seen violence breed violence, racism breed racism, and prejudice breed hate as easy as any mind is manipulated.  Compassion will therefore breed empathy, understanding, the same way love might breed a bridging of worlds, healing, comedy, inspiration, innovation...

A feudal Tide, and yet still we are ever so Roaring against it.
                            The Middle-Land.