" BREATH GOLD "
There were the crests ,
There were the troughs ,
With every breathe that grows .
Your matter as attire ,
Concatenate the souls on fire .
For now and forever .
To just breath gold ,
And let hold .
S•R•
@thatoneshe_
Moments in God’s Cosmic Time
A fleeting, finite time space one now may define;
A flash of seconds for poets to see and find rhyme.
Fashioning a human understanding of God’s Time,
Gives us a hint continuant, complex too—yet Divine!
Einstein’s E = mc2 gives us all a most gifted treasure,
With “c” as light’s constant nature for us to measure.
These moments can concatenate continuously as one,
Or may be revealed in time by mere eye-blinks for fun.
By teasing our thoughts, God infuses our spirits now bold,
With life’s knowledge over time, worth more than all gold!
Being of God’s self-image defines who we each are in life;
It’s for each of us to master our destiny before earthly strife.
Teasing our thoughts with heavenly images of eidetic clarity,
God speaks to us all subliminally over time—never as a rarity!
God's the only true divine mystic when it comes to Cosmic Time,
And the master for setting the Universe in perfect Cosmic Rhyme!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
December 12, 2015 (Couplet)
Still smelling you all over my feeble, intoxicated, body,
Drowning my sorrows in deep, raging thoughts of you,
I hate you,
I love you,
I don’t know what to feel.
Sitting here, far from humble,
Humiliated and hurting; hunting down feasible, words to concatenate reasons as to why I never listen.
So do try dear heart; to find it in your deepest and loudest beat, to forgive me.
Forgive me for my ignorantly, impaired listening skills; prisoner to my own feelings I am,
But you too can be overly, dictating; the blame should be equally shared.
And do try dear mind; to find it in your deepest thoughts, to forgive me.
Forgive me for ignoring reality and forcefully painting pictures far from realistic.
I knew but I continued, i prolonged, I just had to further entangle,
Now I’m hurting; a state predominantly, anticipated by both parties.
Still smelling you all over my feeble, intoxicated, body,
Drowning my sorrows in deep raging thoughts of you,
I hate you,
I love you,
I don’t know what to feel,
But I do know that this is the end.
Bombing for peace is like raping for virginity,
Repeated phrase gives peace unity.
Remind me God, where is the utility?
The love we give has no virginity.
Concatenate munition for factuality,
Its just complete, its all vitality.