we’re here and all else is out there
as long as ego’s manifest
but in staid silence when thoughts rest
of our true Self we’re then aware
to hold our awareness as such
enraptured by love’s bliss beat chime
oblivious to flow of time
is the path where we learn by touch
unreal is all that we see
and so in truth we don’t exist
save as consciousness a bliss mist
which as we become we so be
with no desires left on our shelf
nonchalant to thought forms that stream
viewing earth life as but a dream
we dwell always in light of Self
First of all thank you
I wanted to thank you
you made it easier to do
some others rush me through
act like don't what to do
but you
did it right
you did it right
ah maybe three or four
who could ask for more
I really appreciate things
you do.
Leave it the way it is
there aint no other way
glad you came along
I'm sorry you can't stay
my number if you change your mind
nah everything is fine
you one of a kind
it's what ever you say
Hey you know you're the best
head and shoulders above the rest
got me right when I had to guess
you specail that way
maybe it's something learned
I'm glad it was my turn
keep me in your concern
don't do any other way
it's been on my mind for sometime
it's been erased and rehersted
tell me what came first
that's the condition I'm in
come by help me out
you know what I'm talking about
let's keep it clear
I won't have it no other way
I sat apart from life, too weary to live,
Even the breath I owed, I refused to give.
The curse of the world is rightful on me,
I thinned the trees, not the flowers to be.
In the end, the mind grows tired of love’s flame,
I made a firefly my partner in name.
Whatever the cause, it stands as a crime,
I drowned the swimmer in ocean’s prime.
You bartered away the hope of peace true,
And left the heart idle, absorbed in love’s hue.
Thinking of You Lyrics By Speaks Volumes
Heartstrings Lyrics By Ron VanHooser
Background B.B King it
You'll get home alone
A Quartering as Jazz
As quart and liter
As meter and mile
Footage and reconcile
Irish Quartermasters Gaurd
Kevin J. O'Meadhra
Trace as feather
Low of ash
Bury of quill
Fide et amore
Nightingales Ergo
Send in rot
Further, borrow
Scottish wreathing
Entangled Britain
Relent
They of leave
Twined as lecture
Recital of yellow
Beckon brown
Revile of green
Tustled hearth
Baby babysit looks like
It's gonna hail
Jump and jive
As sent to the SAG
In tawdry spent
The war is lent
The establishment of thy own
A hate filled thrown
As crimes as thine
Tinkle and toast
In a entire
Only as pure
The picture as haunt
Plagiarism
Stores front
Sufferer as complaint
In stilled poverty
I law
Joan had little art
Lythed command
Hinde weeps rather as waltz
Herculean task
Wardrobe mantle black
Opening Suggestion of Betrothed
Moonlight’s bright tonight.
Let’s go outside and play
In the streets of the city.
Morning’s far away.
We’ll dance in the streets,
Race under the stars,
Staring into the eyes
Of oncoming cars.
They’ll tell us their wisdom
In archetypical style
Of the roles that we play
And if we survive.
The dogs of the city,
They howl and they fight,
Then fortune they share
For our hungry delight.
When morning comes early
With its fresh silken dreams,
We shake off the dust
Of what we have seen.
We’ll feel the warm sun
Wake our guarded souls,
To feed us again
As we make our way home.
Our lives have been spent
Living other’s requests.
Now is the time
For our own conquests.
The streets of the city
Are daring and sheer.
Come with me now.
Experience no fear.
she is alive
limbs like entangled serpents
an embryonic adult on canvas
who escaped a naked bed
her art stolen into law school
his arm resigned decorates her shoulder
blind geckos scamper
¥
scamper open lidded lizards
they decorate her shoulder
stolen are all her paintings
her naked bed cold
canvasses half complete
entangled her limbs ache
alive she has her hat and black cat
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
quiet
prevails
except
for snores
shaking.
his brakes
do jake
pitter
patter
of dog's
small paws
quiet,
asleep
again
A.C.
silent
because
night's cool.
amazing
to be
alone
presence
pleasance
lifts my
spirit.
fridge runs.
snores go
up, down
. Its not always kept,
A promise that mornings make.
Rely on nature, a mistake.
Written: September 2nd, 2025, for contest by Brian Strand
*********
graveyard selfie
captioned "miss you always"
posted for the likes
Wounded
Distrustful
Inured
Enthralled
Fooled
Estranged
Paralysed
Exposed
Resolved
Consumed
Scholar
Slave
Compelled
Searching
Hopeful
//See part 1//
...I could never forget you.//
Not even if I tried. For, see, when the springtime comes again each year, and the leaves begin to grow once more, your face is all I see. Your lips as they smile, your eyes as they glisten, your sweet laughter bouncing off the tin rooftop, all of it comes alive for me. You will always exist in me. No matter where I go. And even if you can't be mine and I cannot be yours, when I'm scared or get overwhelmed with life's noise, I'll close my eyes and go to my happy place: The Autumn Times. Because I know that no matter if we're together or apart, if I ever lose myself, that I'll always find you there. That's where home is. Even if it only exists for me.
In my solitude
A voice is speaking to me
The words for this poem
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