lin(e)ar commsthe line stretched taunt between the cansheld in our respective handshello can you hear me well canyou I asked you between landswith eyes for ears you know eye canat least well enough for weaving strandsand so we continue to fanthe flames of cosmos fire bandsmind's third eye epiphany brandswith thoughts ego can't withstand
dfc14.14 tanangai've prayed for winter all yearand now that it has got herei'm off to where the clime's sere:in the southern hemisphere.there december feels like june;i, from the heat, will sure swoon...but it's for my honeymoon,so i better go pack soon.
teta-mankaeeking out,with scant syllables,thought-filled feasts.elucidationthrough sublimation.
dittle liddyfret not o're how i waste my time:cavitation of sound and rhymewith oration foremost in mind;syllable manipulation:cavitation with oration.
dfc14.09 trois-par-huit up-side-downon topsey-turvey-flipsey-flopseyall down-side-up and heels-over-head;oh-so deadly blitheness, the nicest sort of dread:cry about your mom to the beast beneath your bed;if you break the surface you will drown...why's the frown on that clownup-side-down?
dfc14.06 horation odefret not o're the details, brethren,for the big picture's where it's at.the small stuff's part of the bargainif we can but remember that.i sing praise to the holistic;we are but iotes of the one(there is no you, there is no me).everything's relativistic,nothing ends that has not begun...so everything's connected, see?
dfc14.07 cadaebrevity:wit'ssoul or just short?
oo itintuit:close your eyes and stepinto it.conduit:coming this way andalready here.
dfc14.12 diciotto 'commuters play catch-up'biking home just tonighti ran into a friend,her dark eyes shining bright.and although the north windis an odd friend to makei've missed her to no end."where've you been, for pete's sake?"i queried with a grinas i applied my breaks."away and back again."she snarked during our hug,her breath cold on my skin."you're still sounding smug."i quipped and she replied,"you still look like a thug!"our greetings made, we walked side by sideas accounts of two years we supplied.
Mankind / HumanidadMankindI was woven from the dust of the earth,Born from the womb of Your servant,Formed by Your hands, quickened by Your breath;Come to the precious Garden,Walking among Your very good works.I heard the voice of the serpent,I took from the tree of knowledge,I disobeyed Your instruction of obedience.I wanted to be alone and above, I, I;I rebelled openly against You.I have walked in shame,Under a fair judgement, surrounded by decay.All of my steps reap death,I've made myself an agent of destruction and ruin;And behold, You still do provide.Despite my deeds, behold, You are faithful,And have called me unto a covenant;You called me to faithfulness, to believe and trust.You have shown Your worth, and You gave me chanceTo have communion with You once again.But, behold, You see I am not ca
Fairytale of the ChoirThere is a special place,Outside of the broadest wasteland,Sought through the cylinderof an old revolver.Have you heard the choirs of the dunes,And how their praise echoes off of shifting slopes,molded by merciless winds?Have you felt the thunder of those hauntings?How chilling the thought that Ihave only heard these things,in where I am disoriented by my thirstsand my revolver is closed-minded.This place is strange.I've known it only in the back of my mind,Through a peculiar hell of idea,Whispered like a bedtime story.
Static on the TelevisionThere is a calmnessin ceiling fans, every whisperedsound emitted, two in the morning,never needs to be acknowledged,never seeks attention the waya television might, or an hourglass.Only a child knowsthe importance of listening ––the way his mother never will.To lay awake and not watchBut feel the changeas a dandelion does in wind.
PromiseI thought I was a prodigal man.It doesn't matter.The sun holds true.Perhaps, I am a priest of thieves,redeemed in some cautery.The air, still bountiful and sweet.However life inlays my debtors,and I have laid them, after,I will leave an openingfor lightfor everyonefor you.
Dangerously BeautifulThey take off,like butterflies,in the sky.Little creatures,with innocent notions,like the shades of the ocean,or the smell of love potions.Breathtakingly beautiful.
seeing signsthese sails are filledwith windsome wordsthe ship, though: stilled.i watch the birdswheel overhead;airborne ogham,meaning unread,is muse's locum.
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