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| | Fraught with MysteryPage 87 of 93 (53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93) | I’m gazing into an
Heirloom, wondering
Of the future, wondering
Of the intensity of resent
Vibrations
Am I in need of a clergy-
man?—one to pull the
Curtain on what he fails
To understand, for the
Mystery is yelling
A perch is nearby, my
Love, let us rest, inhale
The mystique, and
Converse of the hidden
We have gnawed upon
The riddle, something of
More substance is peaking
How shall we relate to the
Invisible?
A secret that can’t be
Understood, nor revealed
To the unfamiliar, yet it
Breathes, nearly suffocating
Our minds, how will we
Fully love the unfamiliar?
Is there a galaxy between
Us? Vibrations would
Suggest otherwise, but we
Shall never dine, is this the
Truth, the ultimate truth?
What is this paradise?
And is there such a thing as
Sorcery of enchantment!
My palms are screaming | |
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| Fraught with Mystery
Posted: 3/25/2012 3:32:39 PM | In Search of a Masterpiece
My spirit is ablaze and
My palms are soaked wit
Ink—searching to compose
The ultimate masterpiece
I gaze into a geisha
Tracing within my psyche
Endless lines and the con-
tradictions of existence
In the heart of thunder-
Clouds, I am standing near
A peaceful creek, where I
Am oblivious to omens
Though they lurk nigh
My spirit is still ablaze
Throbbing from wounds
Soaring through the waves
Becoming one with a
Sacred heartbeat
A temblor has erupted in
Our souls, our thoughts
Are thus afoul, where we
Venture for answers, only
To encounter more
Mysteries
Lightening volts awake
Us to circuits surging
Throughout our temples
Leaving us to stare upon
The twilight
Am I any closer to my
Masterpiece?—for I feel
I have fallen short
Naive | |
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| Fraught with Mystery
Posted: 3/25/2012 5:19:27 PM | "My spirit is ablaze and
My palms are soaked wit
Ink"
I feel that way often... though less with ink these days and more with paint but .... the feeling is the same! :) | |
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| Fraught with Mystery
Posted: 3/26/2012 1:08:38 PM | ^^^^It is a marvelous feeling--pushing one to create.
And I hope that all is going well with you. | |
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| Fraught with Mystery
Posted: 3/26/2012 1:24:09 PM | a glimmer of excitement
happy to melt away
escape this modern day
suicidal lifecycle
I was hoping
for a pretty poem
but you simply chatted...
damn
what a let down...
(back to the screaming children) | |
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| Fraught with Mystery
Posted: 3/26/2012 2:25:47 PM | | It is always a pleasure, Sabetha. And albeit brief, your words move the reader. | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 3/26/2012 2:26:44 PM | To Whisper Softly
Immortalize my features
In fresco buon. And
Let my eulogy read that I
Waged war on my emotions
And partially won.
Does my division shine
Brightly!—for I possess a
Polar disposition.
During the halcyon of the
Night is when she visits,
Vibrating through my soul.
Autumn is upon us, for the
Leafage is abundant—will
I be granted one disposition?
When sunbeams are shining
Brightly, are angels nigh?
The silence is so loud, and
So marvelous!
When the great designer runs
Out of ink, will the end fall
Upon us—for my repentance
Account is overdraft, and I
Am above emoting penance.
Leave us not to gnaw upon
Wormwood, for an infraction
We did not commit, but
Rather redeem our souls, and
Make clear to us the words of
The Great Sage.
Naive | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 3/26/2012 2:56:08 PM | Running from Reflections
I have done a great job.
I hide marvelously,
Falling into the crevices.
Why am I hiding!—even
From myself!—for I am
Embarrassed, and even sad.
It comes and goes. Each
Emotion carries a remnant
Of malaise.
Once it builds, it peaks, it
Topples over into the spirit.
Excavation is then required,
Required of a lone soldier.
Is there a technique? One
Where smiles take precedence!
Or am I a child, praying that
Father shall return home.
So many disappointments!
They follow us into the future,
Accumulating in our psyches.
They visit, paying homage to
Misery—assimilating that
Exact intensity.
We exist with a soul full of
Splinters, sawing at the root,
At times, oblivious to their
Reflection.
Naive | |
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| Fraught with Mystery
Posted: 3/26/2012 3:08:48 PM | | I am well Joshua, thanks! Hope the same for you and thanks for all the "good reads"! Bisous from Paris!!! | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 3/27/2012 2:30:10 PM | Light
How I have longed for light,
adrift, upon bended knees,
searching, despite the sights.
Oh what a frightening life,
Within a portrait of screams—
How I have longed for light.
Mystically charged, but affright,
drenched in godly pleas,
searching, despite the sights!
Such a child in flight,
reminiscing upon the trees—
how I have longed for light.
Afflicted with a future bright,
staring upon hopeful seas,
searching, despite the sights.
Give me the deepness of life,
else, I perish to manmade dreams:
How I have longed for light,
searching, despite the sights.
Naive | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 3/27/2012 3:24:37 PM | To Whisper Softly II
Mother and father gave me
A great boon, they gave me
Existence. For this, I forgive
Their rotten souls.
My dearest riddle, have I
Been granted an acquittal?—
For animosity is fruitless.
Am I merely a fantast? I
Now beg to differ—and yet,
I dream of dreams, walking
Through the midnight skies.
There’s a specter standing at
My bedroom door. It stares,
Vibrating its presence—I am
Thankful for such deepness.
I have lesions—wounds,
Intimate wounds. My arms
Are thus shut. How do I open
Them?
Upon the plank of mystic
Darkness lays a barrier. But
The plank is never ending.
How do I shatter the barrier?
Hear the mandolin of eternity.
Time is engraved in our gens.
Speak softly, my adversary—
Speak softly.
Naive | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 3/27/2012 4:08:58 PM | Caution
If this is a dreamlike fable, then
What is the moral of existence?
Have you ever gazed into her
Eyes and uttered, steer the ship,
My love?
Unlatch the anchor, and sail
Freely. Is this the eleventh
Commandment?
Soar, my seeress. Let us not
Become overly concerned with
Mysteries.
I once wanted us to waft upon
Passions borne. But I now ask
That we rest soundly.
Our loins can only remain girt
In mysteries for so long, less
We follow after destruction.
Let us embrace the joy of
Knowing that something dwells
Behind the shadows.
We have been made privy to
Another pleat of existence,
Greed may destroy us.
We have stumbled upon a rare
Relic, vibrating throughout the
Chambers of eternity, ever
Looming within our souls. Let
Us rest in this communication,
Less we push beyond the
Boundaries.
Naive | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 3/29/2012 12:18:21 PM | Dungeon
Esoterically walking blindly,
Let us take the leap of Saint
Paul, freefalling into the
Dungeons of existence,
Where our buoyancy is divinity.
What shall we reap from the
Quilt of depression?—where
One’s countenance speaks to
The crowd: even honeysweet
Affections are ineffectual.
What is this dungeon! It’s
Intrusive as a four-day binge.
How will I adjust to a presence
That’s ever nigh, dragging my
Spirit through the soils?
Where is a seeress?—to put
The vision to the test, for I
Am aspark for a solid truth.
But shall such a truth remedy
The division!
Sublime frequencies are
Speaking through our being.
They speak the language of
Universal woe—we vibrate to
Suffering, awaiting our
Moments of peace.
Such indelible wounds, as
Sacred as Bethlehem, digging
Into the soul, penetrating the
Sanctum therein—giving life
To an otherwise vacant spirit.
Naive | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 3/29/2012 2:34:53 PM | i had a dream
someone was watching me
through the door
watching me be a whore
and I relished in the experience
our time was heaven sent
but you choose to paint me a devil
it was foolish of you
to assume
I was an angel
but either way
I'd really love to kiss you
soon. | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 3/29/2012 2:54:11 PM | | Sabetha, you appear to compose with ease. I thank you for visiting. | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 4/1/2012 10:38:31 AM | Atwitter
What is this feeling?—the
Nervousness of spirit,
Pricking at my soul!
It’s a constant uneasiness,
Confusing the heart, as the
Mind plays chess with a
Hand full of riddles.
What shall the aftermath
Bring?—or shall this
Segment of my life ever
Pass!
Naive | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 4/1/2012 4:27:23 PM | Pouring
The heaviness
Falling suddenly
Upon the soul
Causing one to
Swim into himself
What is this demon!—
Connected to a spirit
That cringes during
The day
Wishing upon the
Morning Star
Asearch for joy
But joy is often a
Riddle
An enigmatic maze
Cutting into the soul
Unto tears
Drenching the spirit
But the heaviness
Remains
Is there an angel nigh
A seraphim with a
Hot coal
To cleanse me unto
The core
For the secrecy of
Depression has
Nearly
Suffocated the
Heart
Where the arm
Appears short
This must be an
Illusion
Wherefore the eyes
Swell with tears
For I must be
Cursed | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 4/2/2012 1:53:30 PM | Untitled
Something is upon me
An inexplicable force
Giving me only a glimpse
Into the mystery
It vibrates in the heart
Causing the temple to
Tremble, for the force is
Magnificent
It’s a bit too much at times
For the orchestra is in tears
And I sit at the pier unable
To aid a friend
I ventured to believe
The future had been altered
But I was blind to the
Power of love
Now as a selfish soul, I
Desire freedom, for my
Place is hazy, even engulfed
In a blackdamp
How do we gain focus?—
For my mind drifts, and
According to Jesus, I have
Transgressed
I’m at the mercy of
Vibrations, and secrets are
Of no avail—she mustn’t
Walk the plank alone
But what more can I do?—
For I have done my part
Imploring forgiveness for
My folly, lost in a whirlwind
Naive | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 4/2/2012 2:32:36 PM | Untitled
What is it of her business!
Attempt to love unconditionally.
It’s a journey fraught with
Briers and thorns.
I have adored unto humiliation
Absorbed in secrets, asearch
For the face of Spirit, mourning
For those after my heart.
And I have met only two—
Both aching in the depth of
Their souls—aching for the
Solid truth.
Into the Godhead, I have
Leaped, set aflame as a wildfire
Dropping into the dungeons of
Purgatory—born twice and again—
Longing to aid a spiritual ally
Frightened of it all, misconstruing
What we fail to understand—give
Us the meaning of it all.
My heart is burning sorely, and
My eyes are heavy as sand,
Refusing to shed rivers, thus, I
Compose, at a loss for words that
Adequately relate to the reader
The fullness of my plight, but who
Relates to that that they fail to
Understand—and it pours forth!
Naive | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 4/2/2012 3:05:55 PM | Hoping for the Beginning
I’m long overdue for tears
To cleanse out the dungeon
Of my soul, for I’m wrapped
In webs, praying towards the
Mountains, hoping for the
Beginning
Pieces of our innocence have
Shattered to the winds—look
At us, scraping ourselves off
The concrete, hoping for the
Beginning
A blackthorn is lodged in my
Spirit, tearing into me sorely
Wherefore, the pain has left
Me heavy in the clouds, where
I’m pleading for rain, hoping
For the beginning
I was once so pure, longing
In one direction, oblivious to
The mystery, heavy in my
Ignorance, I am now a burning
Volcano, lost to myself, hoping
For the beginning
Looking into the eyes of a
Child, I’m eager not to fall apart
For the chosen shall suffer
But what of the joy, it’s fleeting
For the mystery is a splinter
So here I sit, within a child’s
Eyes, hoping for the beginning
Naive | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 4/4/2012 3:47:27 PM | Streaming
Love, pressure me to compose
To dig deeper into a wounded
Soul, for a whirlpool is amuck
Spinning out of control
Pull me out of a black hole
Where my inner light is nigh
Lifeless, suffocating in the dry
Regions, athirst for a blessing
Come to my funeral and let
The eulogy read that mysticism
Engulfed me, the world forsook
Me and poetry was my lifeline
Within my inward cave are a
Set of petroglyphs, each inscribed
In the calligraphy of antiquity—
The language of the gods
How shall I decode such cryptic
Depth? Thus, a seismic mystery
Befalls me, haunting the man in
The mirror, leaving me leery
But I stand stalwart as an assemblage
Unknown to itself, a riddle, tossed
Into the jungle of forever, waging
War in the deserts of the Mind—
Long ago repenting the time, falling
Into confession booths, eager to
Understand the nature of sin and
Its linkage to holiness
Naive | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 4/4/2012 5:59:03 PM | Childhood Up
Unsell my beliefs and let
Me soar, unbounded, that I
May scrape the skies—
For that instilled in a child
Shall haunt the soul and
Pierce the spirit
Let the depth of my beliefs
Haunt me not, but whisper
To me the telic design—
That I may absorb purpose
And thereby lead a nation
Into the Promise Land
Swim through the aqueduct
Of my prayers and answer
One for mother
If father is found therein,
Sear his soul unto repentance
That I may fully forgive
Examine what’s left of me
And bless my future self
Through the gods—
For I confess, I’ve sinned
Escaping the depth of self
Traumatized and burned
Naive | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 4/5/2012 1:37:26 PM | Realization
Haunted by nebulous thoughts
Struggling for a scant of Truth
Each piece complicates the
Puzzle, drilling into the mind.
It was all saturnine to me, for
My filter was clogged, but now
I realize—it isn’t about me—
Truth is yearning to speak. | |
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| To Whisper Softly
Posted: 4/5/2012 3:29:02 PM | Silent Alarm
Let us come out of our
Secret places, burn candles
And read until our spirits
Soar.
It’s not as hermetic as a
Dream, albeit, it’s
Opalescent in its depth
So let the epiphany breathe. | |
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Page
87
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93 (53, 54, 55, 56, 57, 58, 59, 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 65, 66, 67, 68, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 77, 78, 79, 80, 81, 82, 83, 84, 85, 86, 87, 88, 89, 90, 91, 92, 93)
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