callous
bruised
I held you
beheld you
with cruelty
with abandon
you
could have been cinders
cellophane
the patina of my absent mind
you
could have been a yesterday
forgotten
one of many
one, yet uncounted
one, lost in a crowd
me,
uncaring, and unbowed
heartless - ignorant

not today

today I saw you
through the window of my heart
vignetted
alone
as I always knew you
alone
without me

then

it occurred to me,
for the first time,
you were without me
and I
was without you
alone
we were alone
and I
yearned to solve your loneliness
your solitude
abrade the fixtures of isolation with warmth
wear down the gloom of silence
with laughter
praise of you
hold you
close,
as if holding myself
loving myself
through you
by you,
loving me
I love you deeper
softer
sweeter
into the cradle
of our love
where we are born
in bliss
fighting the cold
of our darkening world
while the light dies
our hearts burn ablaze
seeking the truth
the higher power that united us
God, who would wed us,
love,
that can save us,
if only we tried,
if only

yet,
for tonight,
I watch you
through the window
in my heart

I shed tears
wishing I were with you
but I will settle
for our dream...

no, i mean this anger
no, i mean this guilt
no. i mean, what is the difference
between this anger and guilt?
because the chains all rattle the same behind me.

i could go and ask my mother,
but the lines on her face would deepen
and she would tell me there is only anger
and she doesn’t know guilt
and how could i expect her to believe in something
which she has never experienced?
and would i take the trash on my way out?

i am unsure if it is my fault my mom feels this way,
or if it is my fault she doesn’t feel any differently.
she’s sewn me richly ornamented robes,
woven from girlhood ambitions fallen short
threaded with hopes she had long dismissed.
but i am not joseph, and the garments never seemed to fit me right.
and my mother is not god,
her love has never been unconditional.

the robes have long since become stiff
gathering dust on the coat rack.
maybe i could hang some of the guilt there, too.
or maybe i’ll hang the anger.
or maybe i’ll hang both.
or maybe i’ll hang on to it all a little longer.

i never learned when it’s appropriate to let go
and i learned a little too late about the bruises i leave behind by holding on so tightly.
a lesson all my mothers before me had to learn.
after all, in the very beginning,
eve never once received a mothers embrace.
the closest mother she had was the garden of eden.
(was she saddened in her exile, or was she relieved to be free?)

Greate is thy Sin, since Sin is never Small:
     And Monstrous Moles of Sin Call home thy Soule.
About their Mountainous Molehills they do Crawle.
     Play thou (and win) a Game of Whacke-a-Mole.
     Unto the Moles be Deadly as an asp.  
     Beware, take Care, nor Swat the pettish wasp.

The Shitbrain'd Sinners Sins to him are Toyes;
     Theyre Entertainments, Gambols, Games with Dice.
The Mushbrain'd Sinners Sins to him are joyes
     Untill he's made to paye in full their price.
     The Crackbrain'd Sin-addicted Scarab bug
     That liveth but for Sin to Hell is Drug.

I feel close to Him, when I’m near Her, my soul takes flight.
His presence lingers, a gentle hymn, as She whispers lullabies on the wind on a moonlit night.

I feel on me His gaze in a hidden maze, through forest trees, I find my way.
I see Him smile as Her dawn’s first rays, paints the sky in hues of gold each day.

In Her garden, summer raindrops fall, His tender touch upon my soul.
His presence lingers, a whispered call, as I dance with Her, feeling whole.

Her evening rhythm, a gentle song, paints the sky with hues divine.
His essence, sun’s first rays, strong, as petals sway in Her sacred shrine.

One sunny day, it dawned on me, lost in Her charm, entranced by His ways.
They both are one, one and the same,
God is Nature, and Nature is God’s praise!

So gaze upon the petals, the stars above, and know: in every leaf, in every sod, God’s essence breathes, a boundless love, where Nature’s pulse aligns with the divine nod!

Oh, you child!

Blessed be you are.

Born to be the one who is loved

You were made to be torn apart.

The angels cry and sing your name.

You were made to lose all you've earned.

Everything will be in time.

You are with no reason and no rhyme.

It will reach the depths where hell has not dug.

Your name and all the things you've done.

The world will be at your mercy.

And you will die, that is what you will do.

You will die over and over again.

You will skin what is left of your bones.

For those who will eat you whole and alive.

You will thank them for it you will thank him for it.

You will happily oblige.

Oh our sweet thorn born child.

The kisses and praise will litter your skin like an incurable plague.

You are my favourite.

And you will thank me for it.

-Percy

From when I wake to when I wincke,
The word of God I'le chew like meate;
I'le give Him ev'rie thought I thincke
From when I wake to when I wincke,
And eate the meate, and drincke the drincke,
And thanke my God for what I eate;
From when I wake to when I wincke
The word of God I'le chew like meate.

Do we know where our
time is heading
Where thou the
  Inner-child
Walk with faith
New birth for  both
   God promise land

Spiritual hug hand

  *       *        
 Love Yearning
To be punctual or late
Love of fate
Comes when you
      Arrive
Bluest sky high five
 You take a skin- dive

  Good feeling
  Cure healing
*        *        *
The vibration
What do we know?
  Your in control
Your full body
Godly soul
Holy water dive
What do we know?

Go with the flow
Scenic drive
 Your time to survive
To love- run- or hide
Do we smell a rose
I suppose true love
*        *        *        
Heavenly power
All Mighty
   God above sun eyes glow
New birth celebration show
Your birth or what's now
Wake up call or last shot 
Godly light angelic face 
 
Chosen one rejoice to trace
Embrace your age
Every facet heart of a magnet
Bright sunset you met
Eyes focused all mind-set
  *        *        *
Meditation all healing wet
Godly voice to transform  
But God knows
  *     *     *     *
To envision all conditions
Dressed on a mission
But nothing to confess
Yourself worth in uniform
Somehow you smell the fire  
Darkness feeling a hint of low
But you rise up different world

   *       *        *
Maturing growing
A healing flower blooming*
A cactus of fighting pins
Positive win like a genius

Distant trains still sound alarms,
Blinds are drawn, people yawn,
It's time to call the day.

The sun's turned off,
The moon's turned on,
The stars like pinholes
Blink till dawn.
The animals are bedded
On the farm;
Beneath this counterpane we're warm.

Today our work is done;
Tomorrow worries not begun.
But tonight I'll sleep
Like the seventh son.