Long poem by
Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |
of Earth's Shabbat
is here to speak today.
she can only sign,
and the only way she can see
is through our DNA/RNA fractally-balancing syntax,
so she has asked if she could respond to your questions,
as she understands them
who are her TransParent Gender Memories,
YangGod, of Physical Convex Special Case Universe,
and Goddess YinYin,
of metaphysical RNA-temporal syntax,
both bilaterally and bicamerally-reiteratively balancing
Earth Tribes of organic ecosystemic processors,
and planters and dialectical planners,
with interdependently balancing consumer and production functions,
exegeting iconic communication
about natural-empirical facts of Earth's nutritional life,
with Zero-centric dialectical neutral tone and energy
ecotemporal balance of Time's transparent memory.
Wow, go Gloria,
you optimize my Mother's BiCameral Pretensions
with such dense summary
of WinWin's PolyCultural HealthCare and Safety CQI
About which we are facing some increasingly climatic issues
of ecosystemically pathological trends
throughout our full RNAcentric EcoLens,
and through our DNAcentric AnthroLens,
where correlational trends
of human political and economic and nutritional systemic ends
of all paradigmatic cultural dialects
are now at both high and deep levels of pathological risk,
as well as polycultural and cooperative health opportunity
to mutually embrace this Transitional Time,
remembering our Golden Rule applies
through both our AnthroLens
and our EcoLens.
Thank you for that background summary
of your unfortunately limited synergetic flow power
during this Yin-recessive moment
within YanGod's precessive, evolutionary transition
toward full-balancing Interior with Exterior,
Ego with Eco, DiPolar Identities
of Time's polycultural diversity.
I don't know how many questions you will invest
with all your climatic signing
necessary to be heard and seen right now,
trying to gently calm all the "Loser!" angers and fears
within critical-transitional, revolutionary change,
so I will ask my personal favorite
because I find it so curious:
"Queen Gaia, don't you think it would be Bodhisattva Warrior timely
to come out of your bisexual agenda closet?"
You know, that is one of my favorite questions too,
in part because it took me so long to hear it.
It is difficult to hear and comprehend climatic questions
that you are confident you have already responded toward,
signed with sufficient redundancy
as to be ridiculously ubiquitously flying in obviousness.
Of course our RNA and DNA memory embryonic strings
are full dipolar-engendered,
so how could Queen Gaia of Shabbat's historical-cultural Creation Story
be anything other than TransParent Yang/YinYin as WinWin
evolutionary co-gravitational thermodynamic revolutioning balance
of BiLateral-Reiterative Genetic Time?
Species of systems,
like any possible imaginable metaphysical use of the word "system,"
must have Yang/Yin balanced-governance economics
to interdependently sustain synergetic dynamics,
positively healthy regeneration trends
capable of consumer and/or producer systemic function.
Neutrally (0)-balanced ecosystems,
sustained in RealTime cooperative interdependence,
are Positive-PolyCultural trending
and Negative-MonoCultural trending
dipolar BiNomial Balance of at least outsideness
as appositionally equivalent double-binding insideness,
cogravitational boundary of surfing BiGenderative Time.
Queen Gaia is BiGenderal
and therefore Shabbat signs
with DiPolar Syntax language,
positive/light OVER negative/dual-bound transparent
of dialectical reason and co-intelligent in-formation
nutritional flow of healthy resonant resolutional wealth,
celebrating Yang/Yin Golden EcoBalancing Rule
as co-arising Presence of mutual gratitude
for my Gift-It-Forward
ecologically evolutionary politically inclusive economy.
See, I knew we were sisters!
how could the root nature of Time's Positive
climatic energy Shabbat
not continuously and confluently declare your BiGenderal
Thanks. That means a lot,
especially right now
as we have arrived together
at such a critical moment.
OK, next question?
Well, perhaps I would add,
in defense of our timing
on this transgender balance of nature issue,
you do realize, I hope,
that millions of people
throughout Earth's ages
living within some level of transgender identity,
other than BusinessAsUsual missionary crusading hetero-anthro,
have understood "Queen Gaia of Shabbat"
quite deviantly from a Jewish concept
of a Queen Bee?
There are diverse dialects for "Queen"
which do not easily translate across dialects.
I can't tell you the number of times
we have looked in a lake or a river or a mirror
and imaged Queen Gaia in drag.
Imaging possibilities is how we recreate together,
usually within our own subcultural dialects.
Just as incarnating mutually therapeutic responsibiities
is how we regenerate
as cooperative individuals
and as a species
and as this entire Shabbat Paradise-Potentiating Planet
of Earth's RNA/DNA ReGenerative Trees,
InFormating EcoMemory Rivers
dipolar rooting FireGod's transparent compost
of LoveLight to WinWin,
articulating (0)-centric 4D
diastatically optimizing natural growth trends
toward just-right Yang/Yin balanced exchange atmosphere
for Queen Gaia of Shabbat
to rise and shine sustained.
You do realize that you can sign what you just said
a lot faster than all the redundant nuances of my language
trying to mono-transculturate polycultural regeneration?
I'm having trouble keeping up with you.
Well, try slowing down
looking at trees,
contemplating their root systems,
noticing how under-standing revolves
eco-normics of a political integritree.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016
Long poem by
Gary Bateman | Details |
God's Return Ticket
Did you ever wonder about the Almighty’s criteria or selection process for reincarnation of souls back on Earth? Just think some famous politician, movie star, sports figure,criminal, dictator, and so on could use “God’s Return Ticket” to appear once again on our earthly plane one day as another person in body and spirit. Yet, how would you react as a transient soul in God’s Kingdom if you found out that your return options would be perhaps as an elephant, a gorilla, a lion, a toad, a snake, a bird, a dog, a cat, a fish, a whale, a snail, an octopus, a flower, a tree, an insect or even some type of inanimate object. The possibilities when one thinks about these options could be practically unlimited!
Now that I’ve maybe captured or at least heightened your attention to this spiritual possibility (even if just for the sake of conversation), imagine for a moment in the reveries of your mind and imagination of what it might be like to return to Earth as one the following:
A Former Man as a Woman: This time around you might have a definite edge since you subconsciously know how men think.
A Former Dictator as a Peacemaker: Historical first-hand knowledge of having been a brutal leader may enhance your efforts in negotiating peace in the world. (One can only hope!)
A Former Hobo as a Wealthy Person: You’ve got a man now who may be respectful of those who are less fortunate. Such a wealth person may become a budding philanthropist.
A Former Criminal as a Man of God (priest/rabbi/minister): Well this would be a turn-around whereby a former criminal now has the advantage of being a Man of God and has a direct connection to what he perpetrated and experienced when he was on the other side of the law. This experience may make him a better priest, rabbi or minister in the end.
An Elephant: A quite stately and wonderful mammal indeed whose presence certainly enhances the Animal-Mammal Kingdom on Earth. Elephants are vegetarians and by their nature are not a threat to anyone. Returning as one today could be problematic given the mindless decimation of their herds worldwide by merciless poachers and criminals who represent one of the most sadistic and despicable parts of the “human race” today. (Let us all hope these individuals go straight to “Hell” when they die one day for what they’re doing to our elephants!)
A Gorilla: This could be viewed as a step back from whence you came as a human being, that is, depending on your views and belief system concerning evolution. I would think though it would be better to come back as a Gorilla in the wild than being one in a zoo. At least you would have your freedom, but then the challenge to this would be doing your best to survive the many poachers who would be trying to capture or kill you and your Gorilla loved ones!
A Lion: This choice might not be so bad. Just think, you could return as the “King of the Jungle.” A word of caution is in order though: stay in the wild and avoid being captured and put in a zoo or your “King of the Jungle” days will be past tense.
A Toad: Just think, you’d acquire the unusual ability to hop around on “all-fours,” eating your favorite insects, and making croaking sounds all through the night.
A Snake: These reptiles are scary and are probably not the first reincarnation of choice. The real question might be what type of snake would one come back as. Good Luck!
A Bird: Coming back as a bird would give you a chance to switch over to a diet of worms and help you to develop and hone your skills chirping and whistling all day long. Enchanting!
A Dog: This could be an interesting return to the mortal world. The question would be what size and type of dog you would come back as, and would you be the “quite type” or a “barker.” At least you’ll be man’s best friend.
A Cat: Being reincarnated as a cat would make you very popular with cat lovers and just think—you may end up inheriting the complete gene set for the nine lives’ gift of regeneration. Not bad at all!
A Fish: Returning as a fish may give you satisfaction in knowing that you are a vital part of the world’s food consumption. If you come back as a specialty fish this might not be the case. Beware of returning as a Piranha, unless you plan revenge on someone who wronged you in a previous life. But as a Piranha—you won’t have many friends.
A Whale: Returning as one of these majestic mammals might indeed be a quite fabulous experience. Size matters in this instance and commands respect, but beware of poachers—another courtesy of mankind—at its very worst.
A Snail: This existence back on planet Earth may not be the most pleasant for you’ll be subjected to possibly being eaten or squashed by an inattentive passerby. Your very slow self-mode of movement will be challenging too.
An Octopus: Imagine your ready mobility in the sea and the newfound extent of your manual dexterity as you move under the water. You could be the new found hit of the underwater sea party!
A Flower: This could a wonderful experience especially if you were to be a radiantly beautiful flower. You would be a welcome addition to the plant world and could be the focus of people who seek out your beauty or perhaps want to pick you as a symbol of love and emotions. Think Red Rose!
A Tree: Well a tree may give a reincarnated soul a chance at a much longer finite life on Earth before dying or being destroyed by man. At least one would have the satisfaction of knowing that their presence as a tree would help improve the carbon dioxide imbalance on our planet.
An Insect: A lot of insects are really nasty, but if you can make it back as a Honey Bee or Butterfly that would be grand.
An Inanimate Object: Just think you could come back as a plain old rock or stone or a seashell.
Enjoy these possibilities!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved – February 7, 2015
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015
Long poem by
Brian Johnston | Details |
(Musings of a poet with huge doubts and a fragile faith)
Introduction: Is God A Joke Or Human Vanity?
When close friends die and other’s thoughts are suicidal,
When mankind’s soup du jour is loneliness with anguish
When mental illness, homelessness, more war, and child death
Swarm down and then attack us like a plague on Egypt,
Our tainted bread, a leavened loss, seems heaven’s judgment
And death the only path we see that seems to stop our pain.
When ministers rape children trusted to their keeping
When prideful Christians stand to mock that ‘men are brothers’
A joke if atheist, or black, but lie if foreign
When men of faith can hate both Catholics and Mormons
Deny as well that we are all our brother’s keepers
Our unwed pregnant daughters also miss protection.
As human politics and compromise are mortal sin now
No virtue left in give and take for either party,
And suddenly our finite views are God’s own wisdom
All other men with different takes on Bible’s leading
Are traitors, infidels, untouchables, satanic,
If you’re not me then you must be an earthly demon.
And am I wrong to think that God is missing somehow?
Or is it just our god who is exsanguinated
For human vanity seems now the modern flavor.
But even if the Bible is God’s truth unvarnished
How dare men claim their take on it is also faultless?
The blasphemy of this should leave the soulless cringing!
Is God then Friend or fiend? The question still is hanging!
Respect for Him obscene? Disgust His just deserving?
The judgment that awaits if we deny Christ’s coming
Is meant for human shame? Or is it there for saving?
Perhaps instead of blaming God for what life brings us
We’d profit more by working on the faults we proffered.
I. Consider: Where might God not be revealed!
I’d swear that God’s not in my parlor sipping Merlot,
And no, He’s not the tenor singing in my shower,
No burning bush or stone tablets, no writing over transom,
My house not chosen over yours because I live there,
My saint filled church less sinful than your congregation,
All human effort does not bring man God’s protection.
Injustice can’t survive his Grace or sin his Mercy,
And Sun can never set on any of God’s anger,
No evidence THAT church can pull upon His heart strings.
Do feelings have the power then to steal God from His children
Can hating God ensure you’re in a God free haven?
The things He’s not, not proof that He may not be present!
So what’s the logic linking God to man’s disasters?
Is 'free will' really such a black mark on creation?
If sin is ours alone how is it God is sullied?
Will you forgive yourself for harm you do in growing?
This God that you resist, His Heart tuned to your wavelength,
This parent that you’ve longed for, always has been loving.
II. Consider: Where might God be found!
What force could be so strong to steal Christ from His duties
Green pastures sure to mark the path with Shepherd leading
Cacophony of day cannot divert His focus.
The Shepherd loath to leave His flock if they’re in danger
Though He will not forget or leave the one that’s missing
All sheep accounted for before He sets His staff down.
The Psalmist also swears that ‘goodness and His mercy’
Are always Hallmarks of the house that God is found in,
So shouldn’t the reverse of this be God attractor
And God find rest where ‘goodness and His mercy’ flourish?
Grace pointed to by tables laden high with plenty
For even those who’ve pledged themselves to our destruction?
Then too, the Bible states that God is mankind’s suitor
His church to be Christ’s Bride (if God’s plan is not dreaming,)
His wooing us shows us Love, reveals the sacred pathways,
That guide us to our place in heaven’s verdant valleys
The wedding feast and guests, the wedding preparations,
The order of the hour in hallowed halls of heaven.
If God exists He certainly must be a part of
(Reflected without compromise in) His creation
(While holy in His eye, perhaps not more than twinkle.)
How is it then He promises His loving presence
Wherever in His name that two or more are gathered
Who seek to honor Him with works and with their praises.
III. Consider: What do we know of what He is like?
If God exists He must have been there from beginning,
And what men thought they knew, earth still, the stars revolving,
Were foibles of mere men, creation more demanding
Complexity makes newest findings too seem shaky
Reality may not exist (though models serve us!)
The truth that is revealed, the poetry of science.
A God that is complex is not new understanding
But Friend that finds us precious fires imagination
But what if our creation never was outside Him
With mankind really just existing in His daydreams?
If this were true and God were not enamored of us
A simple nap might mean the end of all creation.
IV. So where then is He now!?
If poetry can bless the models science offers,
Perhaps I’m right to think that it serves spirit also,
Imagination holy at angelic level.
To seek God’s heart in man, a path that might be chosen,
Our God revealed in works where man has left no imprint
The mystery of God perplexes as it pleases.
Perhaps you will respond to other new perspectives
A metaphor perhaps would be a fish in water.
How can an immersed fish , who’s never been without it
Imagine, ever guess its impact on life’s workings
The water gives him life, his food, and air for breathing
Is God’s Love then like air for every man to swim in?
That every man will die cannot disprove God’s Loving
Indeed how can you prove that death can even happen?
And if we all have souls then has your death true meaning?
If spirit’s flight still soars, can life be more than dreaming?
If you are still with me, I give you final issue,
If soul cannot be preached, then death is equal fiction.
March 24, 2015
Copyright © Brian Johnston | Year Posted 2015
Long poem by
Matthew Rains | Details |
Rage on a page
Each word I write causes flames to ignite
fire burning bright
cutting dark holes throughout the night
sitting under a magnificent mask of moonlight
the earth almost felt right
suddenly there came a might
movement from out of sight.
Shadows grew, emotions gloomed, darkness flew and was cast around a spirit’s unearthly figure
In the chaos it was daunted, but in this obscurity it is haunted by reflections from the magical mirror//
I felt the cold soul as the wind rolled, from the air it was mould, its creeping ever nearer
Everything around me becoming boggy, foggy and smoggy, seeing less and less clearer
Standing in the tranquillity without fear, I felt like shedding a tear.
Can’t see through the brutal memories that blew – the smoke of the past
There are no more questions left to be asked
So I take off this worldy mask
It transforms into a wand, the magic within me spawned, and with an unspoken spell I cast
the past fades as the spirit decays and the memories are forgotten fast
expanding, exploring and deforming mind so vast//
creating order so we can make the present last //
take us far beyond these planes of mass//
fly beyond these skies like a sky rocket blast //
time-space continuum splitting my brain in half.
I am no longer the fool, I am now the magician.
I enter a vision.
Soul focused toward the light, I journey down the death path //
decoding inexplicable inner symbols, mysterious signals unexplainable by math//
they float away in whirls and spirals like free-floating gas//
release the hate and let go of all the fear, anger and wrath//
As is above – so is below, not too long ago, we didn’t have far to go so no more looking ahead or back //
In the thick waters of oblivion you are trapped, slowly drowning you in waters black//
you’ll feel the need to let your thoughts attack//
but just try to ignore them, sit back, breathe and relax//
No longer drowning, you’re now found yourself free-falling, sliding through earth’s tectonic cracks //
No longer concerned by unrelated facts//
Your mind is able to flow back//
Following along the universal track //
Engulfed by a feeling so incredibly awesome and wack//
Powered by infinity//
using bountiful limitless resources of energy//
the subconscious is a deep bellow burrowing bionic brain entity//
A compilation of all those parts of you which you never wished to be//
Creating alter-ego, this is your arch nemesis, your greatest enemy.
This is the spirit that I now see, the shadow now standing in front of me//
In numbers we are unable to quantity, this quality science can’t explain
Why it is that we struggle, fight and suffer – remaining in constant pain
Knowing we all must die,
no signs of heaven in our sky
sometimes it feels like this hologram
we live in is just a lie,
we can all cry about it inside
Run away and hide
Scream and yell
but the reality is we’ve created some kind of hell,
a place for the fools of this world to dwell,
never content, we remain the same, contained by the bars of our own prison cell,
our aura is a psychological, biological, chemical, electro-magnetic energy Manipulation in colours emanating, dissipating into a super-conscious shell,
brainwashed by the TV that continuously stimulates and relates,
a long time ago, a magnificent civilization was visited by the seven fates
became enlightened, but when they reached the gates, into a dark age they fell, down a dark and ever-winding well
Somehow still living and breathing cells,
Incarnations of dead zombies, slaves of an evil wizard’s hypnotizing spell
These individuals barely look for the love within themselves,
let alone care or share in the love of someone else
man is more concerned with his magnitude of his wealth
a priority so important, he’ll even put it before his health
hidden agendas of politicians, attacking our thoughts with stealth
Using the force of coercion to spread fear - so we are convinced we need their help,
Producing distractions, using their potions, the youth is doping, while in luxury they’re hoping,
we don’t get the sort of notion, to join together in a greater force,
they continue to coerce and create commotion
all the while they’ve put into motion,
the waves of the subconsciously shared ocean
from out of this plight, we begin to fight against the fear of fear itself.
But their money pays, and paves the way- so the unnecessary wars are fought, taxes are raised
Always finger pointing, truth just aint holding in this needless, endless debate, too many mistakes we have we made
When the puppet masters lose control, they cut the strings and then the assassins wait to be paid.
Hungry for power, peace is a delay, instead we fray and save peace for an imaginary rainy day
While they murder love and bury the lost in an unmarked grave
The people start to realize what really matters and gather in protests, they rant and rave,
Shouting out that, “we have been enslaved”
Reduced to a life of minimum wage
Stress and tension, in this spiritual up-setting, so I chose to become
Rage on a page
An animal exploding from from out of a cage
The Struggle becomes Success is my own master, So I seek to Become a mage
This Human Puppet is not a misguided sage
Can no longer be staged
another rhyming demon, feigning in the space age
believing in nonsense so the seed grows
let yourself go, don’t try to be engaged
Just feel the rage
I’ve Fabricated from out of a page
By Matthew Rains
Copyright © Matthew Rains | Year Posted 2015
Long poem by
Demetrios Trifiatis | Details |
(one of the two Delphic commands of Apollo)
For years before the narrow windows of my senses
Trying to pierce the nebulous world of outer reality,
Hoping to find GOD,
One year was following the other but I was:
I was lost in the tenebrous world of materiality’s
While the true essence of things, evasive
Persistently escaped the grasp of my confused
Unable to see behind the impenetrable veil
And disappointed with reason’s constant
My impatient voice towards the starry heavens I lifted,
Where are Thee, oh LORD?
For I have been seeking for Thee so many years now,
But I have found Thee not!
I have kept my eyes wide-open in order to see,
As many colors of Thy creation as possible,
And not even for a moment have I shut them,
For fear I missed Thy resplendent light,
But I saw Thee not!
I have kept my ears wide-open in order to hear
As many sounds of Thy creation as possible,
And not even for a second have I covered them up
For fear I missed Thy sacred voice,
But I heard Thee not!
I have kept my hands extended in order to touch
As many things of Thy creation as possible
And not even for a minute have I held them back,
For fear I missed Thy spiritual touch
But I touched Thee not!
I have kept my nostrils wide-open in order to scent
As many perfumes of Thy creation as possible
And not even for an instant have I held my breath
For fear I missed Thy holy aroma
But I scent Thee not!
I have become a famed gourmet in order to taste
As many delicacies of Thy creation as possible
And not even for an hour have I withheld my appetite
For fear I missed Thy heavenly feast
But I tasted Thee not!
Then, the thunderous voice of the Lord,
Coming deep down from the twilight of time,
Tearing the eternal heavens apart
Answered me and said:
Dear innocent child of Mine; hasn’t time taught you,
That I am neither to be seen by eyes
Nor to be heard by ears?
That I am not to be touched by hands
Nor to be scent by nostrils?
That I am not to be tasted by palates
But I am only to be felt by enraptured hearts?
Trembling and puzzled, in a shaky timid voice,
I dared ask:
How could this be done, oh Lord?
For I am so weak and ignorant, I do not know
And the compassionate voice of the Lord answered me
Don’t call yourself weak and ignorant for
I have endowed you with power and knowledge
You have only to unearth this incalculable treasure
Hidden deep down in your soul and you will be
In touch with Me, with eternity, with the universal law,
With the light, with the truth and every single existence,
But first you have to listen carefully to what I command:
Close your eyes for they cannot see Me
And cover your ears for they cannot hear Me
Pull back your hands for they cannot touch Me
And hold your breath for it cannot scent Me
Shut your mouth for it cannot taste me
And stand completely still in order for you
To sense Me
At once I rushed to Obey His divine command, so:
I closed my eyes and saw no more
And covered my ears and heard no more
I pull back my hands and touched no more
And held my breath and scent no more
I shut my mouth and tasted no more
And stood dead still for a moment,
Just for a moment alone!
I felt His ethereal presence enveloping my heart
And I saw His celestial light caressing my mind
And I heard His heavenly voice calling to my spirit
And I touched His angelic essence with my elated thought
And I scent His seraphic aroma with my sacred, now, breath
And I tasted His rapturous divinity with my blissful soul.
Then, immendiatly, the gates of revelation opened their
And in a magnificent lofty parade, in front of my soul’s
The mysteries of life, one by one, were unveiled to the last
Thus making everything known.
And now my enraptured self, jubilant before the eternal truth,
In ecstasy exclaims:
Thank you, oh Lord for showing me Thy blessed Essence,
Thank Thee, for I know Thee now!
And the Lord enigmatically smiled at me and with His
Divine thought tenderly declared:
No my loving child, you only know YOURSELF!
© Demetrios Trifiatis
Copyright © Demetrios Trifiatis | Year Posted 2012
Long poem by
T Wignesan | Details |
22 But to those who adore me with a pure oneness of soul, to those who are ever in harmony,
I increase what they have and I give them what they have not.
23 Even those who in faith worship other gods, because of their love they worship me,
although not in the right way.
24 For I accept every sacrifice, and I am their Lord supreme.
But they know not my pure Being, and because of this they fall.
THE BHAGAVAD GITA: 9, transl. Juan Mascaro (London:Penguins), 1962
the puja never ends
the sound of conche-shells rush up from starved caving lungs the fire still burns ditheringly in tiered brass oil-lamps the sanctum sanctorum still resounds to the same old Vedic mantras their walls pitch-tarred by centuries of sacrificial smoke the naked granite Amman’s torso and limbs sunk in massive mountainous pitchblack porous rock bathed in milk and coconut-oil jasmine petals vibhuthi the ritual never varied nor the droned sanskrit rocambolesques phonemes learned by rote and remembered since a toddling three or four through chanting playfully all-day-long in unison within bare highstone-walls amidst the making-of-faces to the bare-chested fair-complexioned eternal cousins in drawn-up and tucked-in dhotis their long-flowing gingerly-oiled sheetblack hair tied-up in a cone and sagging over the forehead these the keepers of the « I » who wants and Oh needs worship
You the Brahmins claim picked from Your head Your chosen
You who gave us the intelligence to question
Doubt and despite our conditioned voice our dissent
Now threaten us with holy fire the right path mistaken
O the King of Kings
Give us this day Your comforting bread
now the days are almost over when Your chosen few strutted about Your smoke-and-incense-filled courtyard barechested lest their twice-born ethereal insignia misses the masses clanging bells yelling orders in mantric spells making as though You resided in them nay You were them they were You their minds wrought by the belief that work was for the menial castes all untouchables all fools all filthy their breath impure Your chosen children’s food pure sanctified daily by Your inner eye their genes their blood pouring from one tumbler into another and back into their veins like the hot tea drawn in an arc between arm-length held tumblers their vedas the only vedas their language Your language a prayer in any other language gets channelled to Your if we are to believe them sworn enemy the stoker of the fiery dungeons
there was a time there were millenia those who issued from Your arms thighs feet and the néant below and beyond all all untouchables of course gave in sacrifice to You what was demanded by Your chosen lot how you cared for your few ordained representatives on this infinitesimal speck in your sweeping vastnesses
but now the time is drawing to a close the pujas the marriages the deaths the astrological charts net in hardly the sums needed to keep Your valiant few intact their voice tremble now their chants in Your name growing meeker and meeker through commonlaw marriages selflit pyres computerized astro-charts and prayers offered in Your name while speeding in petrol-driven carts
who would you elect again as Your spokesmen
Whitehall White House the Kremlin the Imperial Palace or the Elysée Palace
who would speak for You
sing Your praises
keep Your house in order here on earth
and drive terror into those who would suspect a ruse
now that the prideless old but still plump priest with six unmarried daughters begs with outstretched hand at the temple portals vying with the maimed untouchable in shredded trailing rags his wide bright doleful eyes
a telltale warning to your indifference
one to keep his pure-bred lasses within unpryable walls
the other to keep hunger from shrivelling up his balls
the ultimate sacrifice
1 the brahmin conducted mass in the sanctum sanctorum as the intermediary between Brahman (the God-Head) and the other castes, the latter paying for it in cash or in kind
2 the Hindu Goddess Parvati ; also a suffix to names of deities signifying malevolence.
3 powdered ash of cow-dung, used by Hindus on their forehead, arms and torso as an insignia of their religiosity.
From the sequence : « Words for a Lost Sub-Continent » in the privately published collection : longhand notes (a binding of poems), Paris : 1999, 115p. ISBN 2-904428-14-3
May 24-25, 1997
Copyright © T Wignesan | Year Posted 2016
Long poem by
Dorine R Spruill | Details |
Molested the first fifteen years of my life. My mother remained silent the whole time. As the molesting continued all those years. Forced to live a pretend life all my childhood. Beaten and punished every other day. For no reason other than being a child. After all this I figured I was a unwanted child. My mother couldn't love me abusing me. She brought me fancy expensive clothes every year. To cover up all her verbal, mental, and physical abuse. She tried to hide me from people, family and friends. So that they wouldn't see the embarrassing scars and bruises. Sometimes so bad I couldn't even go to school the next day. Or I would get into fights or act rude to get a suspension notice. That would have allowed my body to heal. One time I even tried to get ex-spelled. However, it didn't work. I only came home to more beatings. Her boyfriend watched and help hold me down on the floor as she would beat, and beat, and beat. Maybe this gave him a idea that it was ok to abuse me. Being that my mother was already doing it. Yeah! From the outside looking in my childhood was perfect. Every child wanted my seat. Name-brand clothes, shoes, computers, and almost every toy in the Jc Penny catalog. From the inside looking out I was screaming to get out. Scared, alone, abused, and still a child. So there was nothing I could do. I had no brothers or sisters at the time. All my family wouldn't believe me.No! Not him they would say, and did say at age fifteen I started getting older, and more developed. I had to put a stop to this. So after talking to some school friends. I decided to talk to my mother about what was going on. So later on that night I called my mother in to talk to her. I had told her what had been going on. while she was a work, and out late shopping. She in return asked me to draw a picture of his *****. As if she didn't believe me on the spot. What! I thought to myself. How could she ask me a thing like that? After one hour she finally called the police. I was brung in also for video questioning. I told them what had been going on in the house while my mother was away. The police in return asked me "what took so long for me to tell" I replied" I was scared, alone, and threatened. I had no one in the house to protect me. From my mothers abusive ways. I thought people would tease me." The next question was to my mother. The police asked "How could you live in the same house, and not know that your child was being raped?" My mother sat quietly and had no answer. So she got charged with neglect. My mother's boyfriend got charged with child molestation, and a few other things. I can't remember them all. After all that I was still scared, but finally free. Free to be a kid again.
Awh, hell the relationship between my mother and I went down the drain. After trial she hated me even more. Every day she was threatening to kick me out of the house. I was only sixteen so she couldn't just kick me out. Yet! She even got so angry at times. She went as far as not letting me communicate with my newborn brother. She even told people to keep him away from me. That hurt me so bad everyday. I prayed to God everyday to soften my mother's heart, but it never happened. When I turned eighteen she finally kicked me out the house for real. With no place to go, no money , and no food to eat. I ended up living with family and friends until she let me back in. I don't know why, but I thought things had changed. About a week after moving she called the police and told them that I was prostituting. Which was a lie. Thank God I didn't spend time in jail. Due to her lies and deceit. I never thought I would have to leave my own mother alone. However, after that incident that was my final decision. Sporadically I call her to hear her voice, and check on my brother. Unfortunately she never answers the phone. Her guilt for abusing me won't let her answer the phone.
I moved to Albany, NY for a fresh start. A new beginning! There I met more friends, moved into a brand new apartment, and fell in love. I wasn't expecting to fall in love, but I did. With a adorable, hot, and sexy Italian guy. For the first time my life was great, and I was happy. I even tried some plus size modeling, nursing, and I started self-publishing my writings. I was accomplishing things that my mother never encouraged me to do.
After about four years I started feeling homesick . So I came back to Virginia. Wow! What destruction was happening. My whole family fell apart. Nothing or nobody were the same. They all became police property. That was a sign to continue to stay away from them. Continue my happy life. Continue self-publishing my stories. Praying to God everyday. that I remain successful. This is a true story. Unfortunately it happened to me. From a mother who brung me in this world. Only to use and abuse me my whole entire childhood. Then pretend that nothings even going on.
Copyright © Dorine R Spruill | Year Posted 2013
Long poem by
Laura Loo | Details |
Christmas With Christ Poem/Story Contest
Sponsor: Isaiah Zerbst
Way before Jesus Christ was born, I was one of a chosen few,
to be a spiritual Being attending to God.
I thought I was really nobody special,
but He thought I was.
He thought I was a beautiful benevolent being,
Bright and celestial acting as a courier for Him
between Heaven and earth.
See there are different types of angels,
I happen to be the only "Divine Messenger".
And there I stood in paradise, praising,
dancing and singing with Him,
The Almighty glowed with all colors of the rainbow,
With prisms shining out of his hands,
with the maximum of whiteness,
Reflecting His loving arms.
One evening He came to me and expressed
His deep passion for mankind,
I noticed He was excited.
He said, "Soon there shall be a Man, made out of my blood,
a living sacrifice of My word and actions on earth. He shall be
the Savior of all people, and those who believe in Him shall see the Kingdom of Heaven."
When I heard this news I stood there in awe.
For the first time I saw God proclaiming that His
miracles would be performed by a man, His one true Son.
After that, he took me aside and gave me a very
special duty to perform. I was to be the messenger to proclaim to the world that born unto them would be a Savior. He said, "Shout to the world, Heaven and earth that a Son shall be born and
He Shall be named Jesus Christ of Nazareth."
I had strict directions from God.
He told me to prepare myself for my significance was great.
On the day of Christ's birth I was very busy.
I had to gather all the other angels.
The cherubs, archangels, celestial hierarchy's,
the searph's and lastly the guardian Angels.
I was His one and only Divine Messenger,
and what an important duty I had to fulfill!
All day I waited in anticipation of the night that would soon come,
The night our Lord was to be born unto the earth.
As I looked down and watched the sun slowly setting,
I knew it was almost time for me to fly below.
On my way down to Bethlehem,
I saw this star, so vivid the whole sky lit up and it radiated all
Throughout the world.
Following that star were three wise men
and I could see that they had many gifts for Jesus's mother and father, Mary and Joseph.
They were riding on donkey's so slow,
but they wouldn't let that star out of their sight.
When I arrived at the poor little manger,
I saw Mary and Joseph almost where Christ was to be born.
As they rode up I was pained to see how
much anguish Mary was going through. For she was special.
She was a virgin chosen to carry and deliver the one and only Son of God.
My halo was radiating the brightest colors of white's
and yellow's, with a tiny hue of pink.
For I was the angel created to watch and protect this crisp and magnificent Christmas night.
I said, "I have a message from the Almighty Father,
you two shall inherit the earth In thanksgiving for bringing
Jesus into this world. For because of you, all mankind Shall be saved and those who follow Him shall see the
Glory of God and enter the Kingdom of Heaven."
Mary just looked so exhausted and fatigued.
I knew she had but one more push. And then there was one last cry in agony and there He was, Jesus Christ!
I played my trumpet and violin in volumes so intense.
All the pain, suffering and sacrifice was worth it.
Shepherds starting walking up and bringing their
flocks to witness the biggest Miracle that has ever
been performed. Three wise men came up, knelt down while
bowing, bearing gifts of frankincense and myrrh.
I saw Joseph crying in joy and Mary smiling in amazement
at what had taken Place.
As she gazed down at her little boy she was overwhelmed with a feeling of wonder And admiration.
She looked at her loyal husband and he kissed her on her forehead as if it was the First time he kissed her.
I could just feel the glory in their hearts.
They have been waiting months for this day and it is finally here.
I have never seen something more spiritually awoken than
The souls of those two Proud parents.
Then we all looked up to the sky and that star
shined brighter and emitted all colors of the rainbow.
I am an angel, and I have never seen something
so spectacular in all my time revering God.
As the night carried on, more people from
Bethlehem noticed the star of wonder And you
should've seen all of them praising baby Jesus,
the newborn King....
I've been up here a very long time, in fact for eternity,
And I know in my heart nothing will ever compare.
Although, I did hear a little rumor that Jesus Christ
is coming back to earth real Soon.
I can't wait until all His followers meet with me a
and we can all glorify Him in Heaven forever...
Merry Christmas everyone...
Written: November 7, 2015
Copyright © Laura Loo | Year Posted 2015
Long poem by
Gerald Dillenbeck | Details |
Fr. Time is with us today, again, or still, I guess I should say.
No, you just did.
That would be redundant,
to say it again,
like I just did.
Just a reminder of a contractual ground rule,
you have agreed not to sidetrack this interview topic.
What was the topic again?
I was just coming to that
before you interrupted my flow of thought.
I am your flow of thought and experience,
isn't it a bit untimely to accuse me of interrupting your flow?
You're doing it again.
Remember, I ask the questions,
you bring regenerative responses
which we expect to be resolvingly
resonant with something resembling
empirically accessible truth.
Yes, that's what I do,
reiterative time flows ubiquitously,
in co-arising response
to any ridiculous thought you might care to think.
I have a headache.
When will Mother EarthSpace arrive?
She can't make it, doesn't have time.
I should have seen that coming.
Yes, it doesn't happen all the time.
I really don't think that's in your best interest
our question today:
Why does our evolution seem to play a game
of winners and losers
if your ubiquitous powers
intend to be cooperatively regenerative,
inviting polycultural, rather than monocultural,
This is a good question
The answer has to do with AnthroCentristic distortion of Time.
ReGenerative Time's economy comes to each individual
as a promising gift
capable of universal co-empathic power
within the limits of sensual incarnation.
What you choose to do with that gift,
whether to hoard it competitively
or to empathically invest it with and in others
is for you to learn
to distinguish what is polyculturally therapeutic
rather than monoculturally toxic.
just as it is impossible to empathize with losers
without being able to comprehend through experience and feelings
what it means to suffer loss,
it is not possible to empathize with oppression and oppressors
without being able to comprehend
through one's own feelings and experience of time
why we sometimes choose to cause others to suffer loss
through our own neglect,
fears about our Ego's unmindful shortage of quality time,
and addictions to Ego's oppressive,
masking Right MindBody's timeless
of Earth Rights as Political and EcoNormic
EcoCultural ReGenetwork Presence
neither aversive nor attached
to any individual Ego,
but intentionally holonic of each Ego
as sacred face of Time's EcoPresence.
So, if I'm not feeling this
EcoCultural ReGenetwork Presence
then my empathic capacity is not firing
on both bicameral pistons equally?
Yes, too much YangTime.
Try Yin-Squared WinWin
in 4/4 equidimensionally timed octaves
of co-gravitating bilateral time frequencies,
for some fine-empathic tuning
on how each of us incarnates
both the co-messianic victim
and the somewhat more Publican Oppressor
of ReGenerative Therapeutic-Timed Polycultural Wealth.
Why do you imply
that God is EcoEmpathic CoArising Presence?
Because Presence has to do with Time,
just as this Present has to do with Space.
God is all created space
because EcoGod is BiLaterally CoArising Time,
ReGeneratively syntaxed within
BiCameral InFormation MindBody InCarnating
of and for all Earth's Tribes,
Bodhisattva EcoWarriors of Time's Full Wealth,
or such is your potential at birth, anyway.
EcoIntelligence of Time
evolves and revolves following this Prime Natural CoArising Principle
of Time's Tao 4-dimensionally balanced
Primal TransParenting CoElationship
of Synaptic/DoubleBinding Negative-Aptic Temporal
To be God
as to be human
invested in this divinehuman race,
is to Alpha and Omega
this PolyCulturing Temporal EcoSystem ReVolution
of EcoSacred Presence.
I need a moment.
That's all any of us ever have
in our becoming race with CoBeing Time's surfing timeless
Do you really always have to have the last word?
Was that a rhetorical question?
Now, see, you're doing it again.
Answering a question
with more questions.
Yes, that's what bicameral time does,
all day and night
on and on
generation after generation,
searching for this end of timeless God of Time's
Honestly, I don't know how to summarize all that.
Just politically be
and economically become
I really don't think I would have thought of that,
but now that you mention it.
Thank you, once again,
for the generosity of your Time.
So delighted that you appreciate
our co-operative networking value.
Copyright © Gerald Dillenbeck | Year Posted 2016
Long poem by
Catie Lindsey | Details |
When before the throne the Lamb advocated,
For those countless Souls in arbitration,
He reached for the Book without hesitation,
On the altar the Lamb's blood inundated.
God's chosen Lamb being consecrated,
Present at the Earth's foundation,
Then witnessing her mighty cessation,
This Lamb of God now mediated.
For a moment the time seemed to stall,
As blood from the altar spilled to the floor,
Many there were, in search of a door,
But the serpent, on his belly, crawled.
Each Soul stood complacently consigned,
To Hell's fire or Heaven sublime.
To Hell's fire or Heaven sublime,
Every head bowed, every Soul felt speculation,
Be it Heavenly bliss or eternal damnation?
For by righteousness or sins defined,
What was forgotten was in the book to remind.
As time after time, each Soul fell to temptation,
No stone left unturned in this lengthy investigation.
But for the glory of God this moment was designed.
Minions of Souls, of every nationality,
Pale and cold, as dripping sweat insinuates,
The guilt, the shame, the fear that alienates.
Not jot nor tittle removed from prophesy's biblicality.
Sins of darkness were brought to light,
From Hell's fire the demons took flight.
From Hell's fire the demons took flight,
Swooping down low upon the congregation,
As the fire flamed higher in Hell's orchestration,
While Lucifer's laughter offered no respite.
The smoke and the ash suffocated the light,
The sins of the Soul weighed heavy in condemnation,
Then each Soul experienced the evils of segregation.
Isolated, and shamed with immobilizing fright,
Some Souls did faint, their strength grew frail,
When out of the smoke came the Rose of Sharon,
Bound and tied, bloody, whipped, and beaten.
Countless Souls saw plainly where they gained or failed.
Composure denied, though the Soul struggled diligently,
To loose the bonds of sudden accountability.
To loose the bonds of sudden accountability,
Each Soul, a nail in fleshy augmentation,
Slammed into a beam of bloody fermentation.
Throwing stones at a young woman's assailibility,
Convenient doctrines demanding public proclamation,
Heresies and Pharisees in close association.
Each Soul bore the weight of responsibility.
Loud wailing was heard with gnashing of teeth,
While Lucifer's laughter rang out over all these things,
Then more demons took flight, with great and mighty wings,
As a burning sword was loosed from destruction's sheath.
The Lamb opened the Book of Life, judgment to confer,
He called out the first name written, "Lucifer."
He called out the first name written, "Lucifer."
Then an army of Angels appeared in mighty demonstration,
To witness Old Lucifer's final eternal annihilation;
Around the throne sweet incense was implored,
As Lucifer came forth with his minions to proffer,
"Take these," he began, "some of my closest associations,
Take dishonesty, theft, and the greed of the nations."
Then these sins on the altar were offered,
As Lucifer grinned with sheepish beguilement,
The blood of the Lamb arose in hostility,
Covering those sins with absolute capability.
Each Soul experienced honesty and enlightenment.
With the truth now clear for each Soul to discern,
Old Lucifer grew tempered with anger to burn.
Old Lucifer grew tempered with anger to burn.
Displaying murder, lust, and war's devastation,
The blood on the altar covered these evil manifestations.
But within himself, Old Lucifer's patience churned.
As the cosmic wheels of divine justice slowly turned,
Lucifer became enamored with his own amplified palpitations,
Biting the heel of humility, in his moment of greatest tribulation.
"I AM GREATER THAN THOU!" The Lamb, he spurned.
Then an Angel brought forth keys, as the Lamb was inclined,
To protect the Soul from sinful separation,
Due to Old Lucifer's dishonest inclination.
The Lamb held the keys, and to Hell, Lucifer was confined.
Then the Lamb came forward and smashed the Serpent's head.
Now that Old Culprit, Lucifer, was eternally dead.
Now that Old Culprit, Lucifer, was eternally dead,
Received in the end, the Lamb's final summation,
As the Soul was washed clean of sin's sedimentation.
Each sin covered on the altar where the Lamb bled.
Never again would a Soul know sin or experience death,
The Soul felt it's worth as the beloved creation,
Brothers of Christ, in eternal salvation.
Filled with brotherly love, the Soul, felt blessed.
A new Heaven and a new Earth appeared,
Where Eden was restored to it's celestial estate,
Of the Tree of Life each Soul was free to partake,
But having knowledge the law was revered,
Eat not of the Tree in the midst, mandated.
When before the throne the Lamb advocated.
Copyright © Catie Lindsey | Year Posted 2016