I can see!
All the tribulations around
A rage against the burning wind
Nobody hears the crackling sounds in my voice
Everybody avoids to feel the smoke hidden within
A rain so deep it burns all the enamel off my skin
A rain that cut my soul in half
Two piece that will never entwine or merge down my dragon path
I feel this eternity has no ending blaze
Trigger happy rain, extinguishing a bonfire around my rose.
I will sleep under the artillery stars tonight
With the perfection of my fiery crystal lava teardrops
Washing the ashes of my face,
Suppressing the overwhelming fear
Knowing no one will ever, "BLAME IT ON THE RAIN!"
As long as the torch keeps loading another artillery round.
I saw you yesterday
I saw you yesterday, your features grinned,
some silken scarf was waving in the blue,
I thought of what the rains could not rescind;
our images, that in the fields imbue.
I saw tempestuous, around me shades,
the rain's persistence had engraved your name
upon the slate, around she formed cascades,
inviting flash amid the drops, and flame.
I saw flash yesterday, inside the rain,
how beautiful it was, her kiss of dew
your words became my sails on trip arcane
the clouds, your messengers, 'mid skies to strew.
I sensed the crooked line reticulate,
the sulfur acrid smell and pale flame's hue,
transmuting to abderian road skate,
zigzagging on a water copper tube.
The flame transformed to runnel flowing laughs;
the rustling of droplets on the leaves,
combined the bright and shapely drawing graphs
with clouds to form above, celestial eaves.
I saw flash yesterday, my features grinned,
like silken scarf was waving in the blue,
I thought of what the rains could not rescind:
two images, amidst the fields imbue.
© G. V., 10-21-2013, All Rights Reserved
Trust not in the words: "In God We Trust", printed on currency,
for God and Money should be kept separate,
unless one desires to tempt fate with the Money-God,
tempt fate by not over-turning the money-lenders' tables,
although many might argue how this isn't good for business.
Why not know the value of life,
instead of focusing too hard on the prices of Idols.
People are bleating at the prospect of "God" being removed
from money, arguing that if God is removed from money,
the grazing grounds will become Godless.
With or without the words,
a Money-God is a God nonetheless.
There is at least one true God,
whether man-made or not;
an authority of control,
a God of profit margins.
Violence is a profit margin.
Hatred is a profit margin.
Bullets, Amendments, and Death, are all profit margins.
The war being waged upon children, is a profit margin.
If I had been given the chance,
I would have tried my best to take him out,
morphed the vapours of my remaining hatred into bullets,
or torn him apart with my hands.
To stop innocents from losing their innocence.
There are lines drawn in minds,
that if crossed over, stretch beyond the bristle-board of rehabilitation.
Even Clockwork Orange bleeds into crimson spatters.
When a child survives a massacre,
runs across his school field to find safety from a stranger,
proclaiming to the stranger, "I can't go back to my school, it isn't safe there.
My teacher was killed, I don't have a teacher anymore.
All of my friends are dead."....
....then innocence has been lost, and the Money-God is empowered even more.
Lost innocence spreads like a disease through the minds of global villagers.
Fear breeds fear, breeds control and disintegration of the Stream-Mind.
If I had been given the chance,
I would have fought fire with fire,
fed the beast within,
taken him apart with a breath of hatred.
Breathed it out, pushed it out, purged it out.
Satan is a scapegoat used by people who are unwilling
to take accountability for their actions and sacred responsibilities.
The Beast is humanity -
not marked by a fairy-tale Devil,
but instead marked by the Money-God created in the image of man;
recreating the image of man through fear.
Some people might be intrigued by how many definitions of God there are.
Even if money is a necessity,
within our core there should reside a different Kingdom -
without and within, within and without.
If I had been given the chance -- past tense....
....if I am given the chance,
I will try my best to take him out,
smudge him out
with the remaining hatred in my heart.
Breathe it out, push it out, purge it out,
until all that's left is to love,
until all that's left is to love.
December 14th, 2012 - S.H.E.S: 28 - 2 = 26
January 7th, 2013
“My Mystic Moment*with you”
A natural look of who I am on the inside.
A reality check of who you are on the outside.
A mirror facing west makes the difference in you and me.
Open your eyes and see.
The child I was today is the reflection of you tomorrow.
The ideas of different skies, drifted off without sorrow.
I am the good the bad, and the ugly…
A song permitting retrospection to delay the same face with yesterday’s glee.
From moon, to admirable moon;
The dignity of holding the same tune.
I am the swan that swims through your veins.
You are what swim’s through my moods and rain.
The miracle of our heritage, echoed so far away.
Auspices now imitate metaphors that were under the surface bay.
An unknown look strays outside the window.
Behind the gates, that leads into tomorrow’s limbo.’
A mirage of turning around and seeing nobody but you and me.
Mystic moments that attract other moments of originality.
A dream that speaks about the image of my new beginning.
My courage polishes off the mirror image of a falling stars ending
You are the beating pulse that resides on the inside and outside of my being.
“You are the REFLECTION of my spiritual place”
in the sun
The skin became the bark of a tree
the soul turning to brittle scars
for uncaring worlds to see.
is a pile of
old owl bones
sewn into banks of midnight creeks...
even the plump, over ripened ones
no longer look at me...
but if their car was desert flat,
their oil grim reaper black
they'd paint a wormy, water colored smile...
slide it through my barbed wired heart
so long as I could spin the jack...
so I spin it until their potholes turn to satin-
in the sun
the mind has smoothed over
like pebbles in Saturn rings..
a forgotten spice in the conversation of life
an hour later the word snuggles up to me
Tomorrow or forever( which ever comes first),
I'll stay wrapped inside
till my skin turns back to ivory
to an easter egg yesterday
to a time of bouncing ball and spinning jack,
when the mind was a great silky nest...
the face a flowered meadow place
where watercolors swirled all day,
the heartworms kept at bay.
I'll stay hidden within the briar,
till the jewels of memories sooth
every scar - every stripe,
the molten knots of cruelty,
till the sweetened fruit reclaims the tree.
until then only my curtains breathe...
...stayed in the sun
Underneath the exterior
Gardenias bloom unannounced
Lamenting that no one lifts the veil
Yearning to be seen...
written by Michael & The Mysterious Lady of Soup
The walls are tall but I know your there.
I hear your voice and the thoughs we share.
So close but can't touch your hand,
all I could do is spill out my words and let my pencil land.
Lady of Soup
I can feel your heartbeat beyond these walls,
one tear drop and my pencil falls.
The image of you vibrates my desired needs,
every thought about you inside me exceeds.
I press my palm on the door,
just to feel your hand makes me want you more.
My chest is beating to your song of desire.
To be inside your body and feel your waves of fire.
Lady of Soup
I take a deep breath to feel your essence here.
In my mind, the image of becomes so clear.
I can not calm a single thought about you.
I place my hands on my chest in hopes you get through.
Soon this door will open , and all shall be revealed.
So many things to be said, will start with kisses sealed.
To see you standing in your beauty and appeal
I have to have you as our passion will steal
Lady of Soup
The time has come for us to be in each others arms
before you opened the door, you had me with your charms.
Lets throw these notes away, and feel the desire for each other.
Lets keep this a secret between us, my dear poet and sexy lover..
strange it was there just the other day
hanging about as usual,
reminding me in my mirrored image
of my definite femininity
now gone, am I less of a woman?
will you look at me differently,
or strangely as I do myself?
I never really gave it much thought before
of how things come in pairs
how lonely one would be without the other
how misshaped one appears,
no longer jutting forward,
thrusting into the limelight,
now scars and a flattened ego,
fill my robe, bras useless without stuffing
men, look at me in horror,
women in shock and pity
and with gratitude, yes that it is not them
my left breast is missing
no not missing, taken, stolen...
it was just a lump a few weeks ago
a tiny pea shaped knob,
that hid its cancerous intentions
so very well, yet lay in silence waiting
to steal away that part of me
that defined who I was
what purpose I served in society
am I still a woman, a sexual being?
I'm not sure, my right breast thinks so
but yearns for its mate,
the image in the mirror just doesn't seem right
unequal in its proportions, glaringly lopsided
my left breast is gone, surgically removed
I can still hear its scream
He Etched His Thoughts into The Sand,
With Silver Trace it Sank Deep.
- He Watched it Dance -
The Wind Carried his Command for Miles,
Above The Derision of the Populous.
- It's Out of his Sight -
The Words He Carved Reached Every
Corner and Peninsula Under The Starlight.
- Orchestrated Claws -
The Grains Seemed To Weep as He Violated
Them. His Will Breaks.
- The Surface, Disturbed -
The Preservation of Evil Intent Dwelt
In His Capacity For Absorption.
- His Legs Began To Sink -
The Past-Tense Glass Proposed No
More Slack, He Would Be Judged.
- He Stopped at His Waist -
The Waves Roared in With Exhuming Force,
The Water Quickly Engulfed Him.
- Up To His Neck in Tide -
The Moonlight Shone a Beacon, and Scratched
Its Image into The Rippling Surface Above him.
- He Reached out To it -
It looked like a Paper Plate Behind Heat Haze,
It's Image Quivered Behind The Reflection.
- His Breath Ran Thin -
His Insides Consumed Themselves For Any Kind
Of Sustenance. They Screamed and Collapsed.
- His Breath Ran Out -
There is a place you can go that is full of only love and Warmth .
you will be surrounded by a light that shines from the Heavens ,
Sprinkles of Silver and Gold.
This place is filled with brilliant colors of Purple , vibrant Gold, all colors.
not one Color is less significant then another ,
for every color is equal here .
This place is surrounded by the beauty of different Flowers.
All flowers have significance here . No one Flower is better then another .
All Flowers are equal here .
It is important you know , you can cry here , and should cry as often as needed .
For the tears will cleanse your Soul and give the Flowers water to grow.
No one Tear is insignificant here , every tear has value and not one is better then another .
money holds no value , Where you live , what you own, has no significance here .
You will be surrounded by a beautiful light that shines from the Heavens .
A shining warm light will encircle you and allow nothing to hurt you .
Hate will be shed at the door light a old jacket of no use.
There is a place of beauty and Worth.
This place will not be found on Earth .
It is a place where no one person is better then another .