you want to figure it out?
your mind is a ghost,
sincerely. it is whispers
font face = courierit's the only way
there is a void
at my feet and at my head
we're all gonna be ..
the way is this way
spinning the churn
burning the light off
stars we are blowing
off energy off the relation
a void is no and ever
and you can't not see it
if you've seen it and if
you close your eyes
it's all taken
if you don't understand
and the ever and no
is just so in
lotus centreto sit
do you want?
paper crane tree wishing
on a paper
at the door(1)
I had to mourn
the death of you
although it wasn't
death of me
who I was
in your hands
wow. bury it as
you will. it was
an earthly thing
2015 April HaikuWriMo 29th Mar
burns the carpet
pulling dead weeds
in my wine glass
tonight's red moon
day light savings
an hour's worth
soft garden soil
chop it down
new sour grapes
of summer sandals
between dry atoms
in momentary silver
bathing the buddha
at the water festival
the monk talks
of cleansing the mind
in my meditation a w
a column of windowsspray paint over
a life of
seeking a glimpse
of sky those
stairs are rusting
we'd all fall
under the weight
coming down to it
let's green the red
in my face however
the garden bar is for
Song of Healing
Day to night, dark to light,
Fall the sands of time.
Let the years like the gears
Of a clock unwind
In your mind walk through time
Back to better days.
Memories, like a dream,
Wash your tears away.
Like a star in the sky darkness can't reach you.
Light the night, joy is light 'til the new dawn.
Cast away your old face
Full of gloom and spite.
With this mask I will ask
To borrow your light.
Wiccan Rede, Creed and Rune Please note that I claim none of these poems, as they are not mine to claim. Some have the authors named beneath the titles. Those that do not are the ones that I do not have the author's name for, and thus I cannot say who has written them. But I take no credit for these!
The Wiccan Rede
*There may be some slight variations on this, but this is the one I have found.
**Written by Doreen Valiente.
Bide the Wiccan law ye must
In perfect love and perfect trust
Live and let live-
Fairly take and fairly give
Cast the Circle thrice about
To keep all evil spirits out
To bind the spell every time
Let the spell be spake in rhyme
Soft of eye and light of touch-
Speak little, listen much
Deosil go by the waxing Moon
Sing and dance the Wiccan Rune
Widdershins go when the Moon doth wane
And the Werewolf howls by the dreaded Wolfsbane
When the Ladys Moon is new
Kiss the hand to her times two
When the Moon rides at her peak
Then your hearts desire seek
Heed the North wind
She felt her skin falling off of her back.
"Don't EVER mention that Name, EVER!" the evil dictator screamed, throwing his whip aside and now digging his claws in to her back.
Her pain was great, but she did not cry. She had no more tears. After she had left The Good Shepherd and was later captured by the prince of darkness, her tears had vanished. The evil dictator's victims didn't know why she held her tears back; it was a mystery to them.
As the dictator's claws dug deeper and deeper in to her skin, she simply blinked. Sure, it was painful, but her heart felt more of the pain. She was just about to marry Him, her Good Shepherd, the Man who selflessly saved her from her mistakes. When she found one small speck of dust on her dress, she was devestated and she firmly believed that she was not worthy of Him because of that one small speck.
Then, when she least knew it, the prince of evil and sin took her as his own, and she had been imprisoned ever since.
He grabbed her hai
Who Am I?~ Who Am I? ~
I am the Atheist
For I am lustful to delve into questions.
Headstrong in my boundless curiosity.
Accepting beauty for beauty
in fearless veracity.
I am the Buddhist
For I dine in the noble truths of suffering.
Yearning peace of mind, to end these inner cycles.
Enlightenment through coherence
and the negation of idols
I am the Muslim
For I hold a passion for a true oneness.
An utter devotion to the divine,
through deeds of charity
and rituals sublime
I am the Hindu
For I tread along realms of the spiritual.
Tracing my soul along that of the Brahman.
Beholding my part in this cosmos
so my sense of belonging hardens.
Still I am the Christian
For its how my blood accepted me into this world.
I attempt to live through true humility.
Invest a love far greater than I,
for benevolence far higher than me
I am the hopeful Agnostic,
For I am stardust and flame.
An eternal comfort,
A soft breath of my exhaled name.
I am the poet
and a heartbeat that soothes.
and yes, I am l
THE BUTTERFLY WITH NO NAMEEmotions Flowed Like A Raging Fire
As I watched The Birth Of Dawn
Softness And Beauty Of Stars Had Past
My Heart Still Heavy And Forlorn
My Spirit Was Ebbing I was About To Go
When Something Caught My Eye
A Solitary Cloud So Pure And White
Appeared From Way Up High
My Eyes Now Ember With Rising Sun
Saw An Amazing Sight
Within Its Fleece A Golden Glow
And A Butterfly Took Flight
Such Beauty I Had Never Seen
It Sat Upon My Hand
And Said To Me In A Voice So Soft
I Was A Spirit Of The Lamb
My Soul Was Open My Heart Poured Forth
It Listened With Silent Embrace
And When I Had Finished It Smiled At Me
With Serenity, Peace And Grace
Moments Of Silence As We Shared The Dawn
Then It Whispered It Was Time To Part
And As It Began To Fly Away
A Sudden Lightness Filled My Heart
I Watched In Joy As My Newfound Friend
Returned From Whence It Came
My Fears And Sorrows All Had Been Taken
By The Butterfly With No Name
Had I Seen The Truth Within The Cloud
I Would Have Witnessed A Wondrous Sight
For The B
science and faithcan you imagine
all the booming
and the banging
and the stars
and the Word
and a boy
and a girl
Divination as a Means of Finding a Way Back 1. I say nothing I am thinking.
For twelve years I have wanted
to do exactly this, but suddenly
pronouncing my own name calls up
the question of who it belongs to
in the same breath Like
Solomon I was born a singer
but in the wrong key and my
chords will not carry me, will not
summon the wolves to me only
packs of hungry dogs
stupid with domestication
but nearly feral And like
a hungry ghost I have learned
not to speak against those
who will give me food
2. A sketch of myself.
He says I must have been born
in the wrong culture, he says. I got a taste of
the crackling heat here, heat to drive you crazy,
and suddenly I open my wide arms for
New Orleans, find myself needing the wind from
the Great Plains. Like a buffalo I have the spirit
of the Sun and I carry it with me. I am a plant
of burnt umber,
brown, ready and waiting like
sage bushes, like the hill you go to that is best
for collecting jun
The Problem with OmnipresenceGod went to the optometrist
because His eyes were full of graveyards
and tombstone-shaped cataracts
clouding His vision.
Sometime around the eleventh
century, the lush green iris of His
eyes had faded to the color
of peeled paint; then, over the decades to
The eye doctor couldn’t find
anything wrong, but he prescribed
a pair of bifocals to make Him
SenescenceYou were young and walked the world
That burns on the other side of time.
A few pictures make their way here
Every now and then.
But old is old and it comes like a mudslide
Impossible to stop and inexorable
Like a rickety typhoon of pills and orthopedic shoes.
And now you're old and on this side.
And all your summer dreams of gold
Are buried deep in the white of winter
And mounded over, with mud
Frozen underneath them.
But the sky is very blue here now
Do you see a cloud? spy a storm?
No, only blue and blue and blue
And of course the white.