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The MAN
 -THE SPIRIT- 
       - THE SEED

All dwell in the same abode
In the  temple  
where they are ripened 
to be born -
Conditioned in holding tanks.
  
THE swishing of  moving  waters
gentle memories
conditioned in silence.
in holding tanks that were replicas
of wombs.

gentle memories from the world 
where angles fluttered.
Imaginations are contagious
we all had the same dream

The MAN
   - The spirit-
       - The seed
delivered unto the 
vastness of judgement
hated femininity-
no earthly peace. 

When man has the gift 
in spite of you, 
You insult his dignity. 
No peace on this plain- 
Your haughtiness, 
your naughtiness
naughtiness is too  
of a word nice - 
maybe babies are- the word
Strange, is better.
 The MAN
   - The spirit-
       - The seed
There is something about the lips - 
 Lips,shaped like
 (pictures I have seen) 
of cherubs mouths. 
But still we have not perished. 
All imaginations 
could not bear witness
to the same whatever.
someone is sick
caught some disease
came from poverty and 
blossomed like a lily in a
cesspool pond.


Hearts seeking 
solace inside 
The sweethearts
the clean-hearts
deep immersion
where  no pain dwells
where the well disciplined
well guided-thoughts
are ushers in my temple.
The inner silence where -
No thoughts run ramped
My peace of mind- 
my saving grace- 
from the world i have to face.
The  flute talks the 
flute is my guide
I am still. Just still.
 
CLEAN-HEARTS
INSIDE- 
WHERE 
THE INNER 
SILENCE RESIDES ...
and no 
 creature be despised 
neither

The MAN
   - The spirit-nor
       - his seed

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