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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required "The Emperor’s New Clothes" We write about beliefs our prayer flags flying like chrysallis books on a branch of those higher deities we trust, submerged, we are always listening in our quiet hours of sleep mostly when 3.33 calls us in, we wake regularly, we wake like sleepwalkers, we turn over and speak to walls, still listening and waiting silence no voices, but our own heard in our heads, the noise is busy, yet no messages relayed, just the centrifugal whirling of thoughts in our segue brains we roll with the flow of it fecund fertilisation for dreams listening and waiting cocooned we are like prayer flags flying, waving and waiting silence We read between the lines of others and their shining ballyhoos, they feed the panegyrics forcefully like porridge to a child that does not have the taste for it anymore we spit back, disbelief on our faces waiting for the spooning approach fixated in our seats facing front on the inevitable command to open up and swallow what has been oversold time and time again by those waiting, time is veritably variable the silence softly sterilized panaceas anaesthetic tried and true, the recipe repetitive bakes the well risen cake that we are all taught to eat without question, wafer thin, yet open minds push back, by those waiting the tacit silence is filled with the music of explicit questions hurricane wings unfurling novitiate larva peeling open tightly stitched cocoons taking in new air, on their own, the real in your face view seeing how it all is the forensics of silence, the futility of waiting, listening to those preaching those not being heard we are breathing in the rich air of prodigals those of a different mindset breaking barriers looking for answers that others bury and avoid truth is hard for some to swallow these are the codes like prayers, complacent, well meaning, but never acted upon, that keep us tied up like matyrs in words ears are closed to pariahs who wear their thoughts and honest answers to others' questions like the Emperor's new clothes the finery is never seen on the surface, it's wrapped up in its cocoon, underneath the skin (LadyLabyrinth / 2023) "My love Your light Incantations Struck stars Like tears fall The sequence ends Downtime God speed Everywhen We concede The sequence ends And begins Everything You think you know Everything You think you know You think you know [Outro] Blood ties Blood ties The sequence ends ..."
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