The precipice of summer lingers lying quietly to the definitions we cling to … ritual eggs brighten rows freshly tilled by plow shears we forged from the last glance our eyes held with the starving peregrines on the ledges of the city towers … their children are dried to hollow dusty holograms … the tapping of a heart’s chain slung carelessly to trip the rainbow’s remains for their want of nurturing spittle … rain too far a distant dust bowl dagger slit in lamb’s wool absorption to quench … we are vain, almost vulgar, in calling for a holy preservation of the child Self … the yoked sack membrane damp as the due we all crawl through eventually in suckling dread hours … the remainder of stains on duckling cliffs ruby~ing palms and knees … my toes turn in, Leo knows how it hurts, how the martin’s purple came to be … why can’t we take our hands off the joy stick of illusion long enough to know … giving up creation to create with each other … for whatever time we are afforded by the roadside ditches or in marble mansions … ambling, rambling, or scrambling for its living breath … is by design a worthy purpose … 6 more words
Tags » Utterances
The Church of Almighty God | Almighty God's Word "God's Utterances to the Entire Universe (The Fourteenth Utterance)"
Bella Rosa Dreams
(for all my Sisters who have survived to rise again)
I used to come here to write … to find some semblance of sanity in this otherwise maddened waking world … today there are people squawking venom at each other and pretending to call that love … love grows on a willow trees, from welts the flesh pleas while tied fast to the briers’ sting … you’d rather Cerridwen’s swine be dragging you through the cold December mud than pray your hand defend you in the fight for freedom … for that child has every right to bear dignity … oh yes, it’s still the mind bend of whips and chains, the stare of wishes into coffin remains that will greet you each day … black nights spent looking for a candle flicker beneath the doorway, from some enchanted creature who stole through the gates undiscovered … to shadowing their light on a darkness of your poems … perhaps, she’s floating on a muddled puddle reflection … the moonless night left when he trundled off to bed behind the castle ruins … dragons of chained for eating the neighbors cows again… she found a slip knot and shimmied through to bring me a single ray of hope … to weave catching my breath through curls and carry quietly … for when it all got too blue we’d pull it out and blast them back to the hell from hence they came… Tonight though, be it night or day it matters not for light never reaches us here … I am bound about laid out and powdered, oiled, perfumed, and laced up to view … to skew … to pile drive with out even a word … Tonight I’m yours to do … 281 more words
The foul leave feathers for me daily in trails to gather … from the barn to the Iron Wood tree stand yonder … at the crest of the meadow hill flanking the logging roads … crevices are home to the Luna moths and moon beams … their winter homes in the catacombs … Christmas past’s silent seed pods … the morning stars descending from the heavens … holding ground bound cocoons in blessed rest … assured peace till April came with lip-less kisses … the caterpillars have hatched … soon there will be more to save and shade from the sun … their short life and love expressed in a quiet transmission … souls hear eons apart …
Honor reigns as the code of the rain in the Land of Paper Cranes … the unspoken behest of Grandmothers nurturing the world eggs beneath celestial capes of eternal down … flight wings of Spirit pressed between the woodpecker’s page gown lining their nest with light as children palm innocence … Here the bamboo moths quiver spun and quest, their life span willing metaphors … our fragile vapors searching for ignition in this land of forbidden flames … we all remain silk worm pupae attainment … where upon slip current pale veins often succor lotus stamen perfume and dreams die … sea, land, wind, or water fowl born demure and azure cored are we all … the truest trowel beak bill to web footed alliances yet descend from ancient egret masters … parchment creased folding crisp mountains to beg a valley’s hand … paisley kaleidoscope sand hill dancing twixt marble eyed maybes and wishes on the wings we are … those who want the breeze to take us gently as a duckling … bounce love on its knee until we all believe or leave the pond to those who … origami light by stardust mirrors when night has awakened hidden hopeful smiles …