Drifting
on a vast ocean
emerald spangled
calling to celestial plains
of the lost citadel
where forgotten tribes
communed in radiant silence
and telepathed secrets
beyond the mortal prophesies
of sages.
My ears are sealed, forever bound by quiet/
A world of stillness, no sound can riot/
Yet my mind pulses, alive and aware/
With whispers and images you unknowingly share/
Every thought, unspoken and raw/
Every dream, every flaw/
They flow to me, a bittersweet stream/
Of joys, of sorrows, of hope, of esteem/
Your words, unuttered, cut me deep/
Your judgements linger, wounds that seep/
I yearn to mend the hate that you keep/
To wake the love in hearts asleep/
I see your regrets, the burdens you bear/
I glimpse the pain beneath the glare/
Life's weight is heavy, this much is true/
But why place that pain on me too/
For though I live in silence stark/
My soul is tender, it feels each mark/
So spare your scorn, your anger untamed/
There's kindness in you, don't leave it unnamed/
I walk a solitary path, a reclusive soul/
Lonely whispers echo where shadows console/
Nobody speaks, nobody sees/
I'm lost in their world, like a silent breeze/
In public, I vanish, an invisible man/
An outcast, a shadow in their grander plans/
Yet within me burns a heart so true/
A Romeo's passion, longing for breakthrough/
I may be deaf, but I hear through skies/
Telepathy bridges what hearing denies/
My silent ears, tune to unspoken sound/
A mind reader, a Psychic yet deaf/
I hear you, feel you, though silence surrounds/
Don't hate me, don't judge what you think you know/
Don't let my deafness mark me with woe/
For I am not less, and I am not weak/
A soul in the shadows, yearning to speak/
The journey stretches, endless and long/
Loneliness binds, but I remain strong/
A road of solitude, yet I've always known/
The quiet holds power, it's my own/
When I have filled your brain to orgasmic capacity
The music fades the worries, of another day
Softly, let me slip back into the depths of your mind
We slowly flow to the rhythm of the beat
To hauntingly linger for an eternity
When I'm four hundred, thought years from your mind
The feelings we have, will meet someday, until then
A vision from a distance, our kisses are precious memories
We were not strangers, having met somewhere before
And choreographed this perfect dance
Author: Floyd Neal
Date: May 2014
Inspiration: Dreams
She was alone in Space
Listening to music
In between worlds
Pining for the Space Keeper
And his clones, too
She distracts me
I’m not ready for Mars
Robbing a 7/11 to get this out of my head
I’ll be in jail
You’ll be on a rocket
Telepathy lives on
Have you lost your telepathy?
How will we speak?
Say what you want to say to me...
I hear you and I'm listening.
Say it subconsciously,
Eye contact, gimme the green light.
Johnny gonna see why I'm a legend.
I'm so sapio, though
So I need you to tap into that telepathy.
Well, I need nothing, but I want it.
I love how you look
Attractive vessel.
Its my time. Guey bezel
Higher levels, Higher heavens,
Different devils- I have shovels.
3rd Eye, makes the matrix 6 feet,
9 lives, great pussy. F-R-E-E
Free the need to say it baby,
Let's use telepathy.
Behind all eyes that lie
Are lips' gores trying to smile
Nevertheless, it will be filed for a while
Unlike the cry of darling Ruth
Who is just handling the truth
And afterwards not afraid of sleuth
Truly, words may paint thy mind awesome
But with thy attitude, we see them blossom
Treading the waters of my mind
‘Enter at your own risk’;
Lost in what you may find
ebb and flow with my hide and show;
Part of me is now free
abandoning all the fear inside;
Too late to run undercover
healing in each and every word;
You don’t judge just understand me.
(Written for Jim Eslinger )
DEVOTION POEM 5, “Unspoken” ***** (for Jim Eslinger)
Young and new to each other,
There was always too much to say.
Glancing around in restaurants, we’d notice
What so many friends remarked on when seeing
Those older couples staring at their water goblets
Or their fingers and never conversing —
What seemed
Not a breath spent one to the other...
Thus, we swore, we’d never ever be like that.
Until now, we are as the telepathy of time
Often does story — full with unspoken exchanges
And kindnesses, like when I want more coffee
And Jim has signaled a waiter before I signaled him,
Or there are things regarding our surroundings:
The commotion and din; or notes about raindrops;
And the phases of the moon; points of quality;
Jabs of conflict; moments of pain; and expressions
Of known love between us. Thus so,
Our lives joined
Evermore outside of dictionaries and essays,
Even overtopping poems...
We speak in being:
Together.
********. ********. ********
(c) sally Young eslinger 2020
Thanks be to God
DEVOTION POEM 5, “Unspoken” ***** (for Jim Eslinger)
Young and new to each other,
There was always too much to say.
Glancing around in restaurants, we’d notice
What so many friends remarked on when seeing
Those older couples staring at their water goblets
Or their fingers and never conversing —
Not a breath spent one to the other...
Thus, we swore, we’d never ever be like that.
Until now, we are as the telepathy of time
Often does story — full with unspoken exchanges
And kindnesses, like when I want more coffee
And Jim has signaled a waiter before I signaled him,
Or there are things regarding our surroundings:
The commotion and din; notes about raindrops;
And the phases of the moon; points of quality;
Jabs of conflict; moments of pain; and expressions
Of known love. Thus so, our lives joined are
Evermore outside of dictionaries and essays,
Even overtopping poems.
We speak in being:
Together.
————————————————————
(c) sally Young Eslinger 8/2020
Thanks be to God
Barkley
He was barely nine weeks old
When Jim set him down inside the front door
And he came in, not timidly
To this new home with all its long-established
Smells, but he strut forward
As if he owned the place. And, so,
When it came to choosing his name, we
Decided to call this cocker-with-an-attitude
Barkley after Charles Barkley
Who ran onto courts as if he owned them,
Which he did.
So like this champion-bred spaniel
Who henceforth owned me. This
Longest-earred, rare tri-colored prince,
Who would lick my fingers one by one,
From thumb to pinky and lay guard over me
— With his ashes now set waiting
To be blown in the wind with mine — always
Kept me still as I stroked him, as some others might
Turn worry-stones in a pocket, to keep me steady
In challenged hours, as our telepathy
Spoke without a second’s delay, as if
God had planned the timing of
Our together,
So Barkley would strut on ahead to show me
I had nothing to fear.
**********. **********. **********. *********
(C)sally Young eslinger 11/2020
All she has to do is live her truth
Clairaudient certainly for she sees spirits.
She also has clairvoyance, clairsentience, claircognizance,
Her family is discouraging, disappointed, angry.
First they try to convince her that what she sees is not there.
That her feelings are wrong.
Telling her that her “knowing without knowing how she knows”
is an infraction against God.
But how can it be? Didn’t He create me? She argues.
They poke fun of her, laugh at her, jeer her.
They are her family, her parents, her siblings.
The ones she wanted to trust the most.
She shuts down over time.
Pretends to accept their religion over her spirituality
Their truth over her truth
Their ideals over her absolute knowing.
When she grows up she wanders off and finds other like-minded souls.
They uplift her, nurture her, love her.
Released by the others, she thrives.
Sound so softly yet audible enough to hear
The spectrum of words echoing between each ear
The voice gone unheard yet heard perfectly clear
Something within you now has become full of fear
When the little hairs stand up straight in attention
The mind automatically goes into a mode of prevention
As the evil lurks around you ponder its intention
Lost within the abuse of all the words never mentioned
The stomach muscles tighten as the panic starts to arise
Calm down the inner sickness, deep breath, shallow sighs
Fighting to regain control as your anxiety slowly dies
Clarifying the truth out of the sound that whispered lies
bmdavey@11/27/19
T earing at the seams to scratch its way inside
E mpty hollow being with the lonliness that I hide
L istening without seeing, tortured in all of thought
E very single thing is now whatever that it's not
P rogrammed message beamed into the victims head
A nswers no longer seeking, still alive but sort of dead
T orture is the theme, Schizophrenia made by design
H earing so silently, sounds of something that arn't mine
E motions disappear as my feelings have passed away
T urning into the nothing which you see in me today
I ntels frequency wave disease, creating vegetables to remain
C oincidence born in consequence of the ouside in all my pain
bmdavey@10/27/19
I ask God to give me the faces
of the children I need to see every day
It has never failed me yet
They are almost always
the ones who never
ask for me yet
need me the
most
I am a receiver
I have no idea
if I send.
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