The gamma ray of night terrors this evening November 3, 2018 will involve briefly studying the artwork of Michelangelo 'The Last Judgement', it is "An Abrams Art Book 16 Beautiful Full Color Prints" (Copyright 1955 by Harry N. Abrams, Incorporated). To aim these night terrors towards a positive learning experience ought to enable my mind to use the energy from horrid memories to make my brain work out the connection of synapse to my unconscious horrors that torture me while attempting sleep to reconnect with more of a place with picture that is explainable. With a bit of luck this will be an ideal account of horror to out the basis of a project that simulates differently the darkness, there will be a goal!!
I have experienced night terrors in my life as I have already said in a previous post, however those night terrors that began around 4 years old have not haunted me for years. The wretched experience of family vs. my day to day life now has brought-up once again the terror, yet still remains unexplained in simple words. For now those night terrors leave me breathless and/or with really dry eyes as if I am awake asleep while resting in a film. The difficulty is better explained by something that I wrote many years ago when I first started writing on blogspot.com it was titled 'Nothing Said' and I wrote it as the foreword to my book An Independent Mind, Knot Logic, the date was May 29th, 2009 and I published it on my blog 'The Secret of the Universe is Choice!' on March 22nd, 2011. I found it just now as I typed under the search bar on blogspot on that blog "my brain dead head" and found something in parenthesis which seems paramount today. It was the post just above the one titled 'Foreword: An Independent Mind, Knot Logic; http://thesecretoftheuniversechoice.blogspot.com/search?q=my+brain+dead+head I also found 'Nothing said'.
Note to whom may be reading this blog currently, you were once called the "Average Reader" on blogspot, the bloggers that wrote at that time used that terminology to beacon any individual that dropped-in for a random read and for that reason I prompt your attention to this next sentence. I have included some other published posts that are relevant due to the 'Labels' recognition of 'An Independent Mind, Knot Logic' which is found on the right hand side of that blog should an Average Reader be so inclined to read The Secret of the Universe is Choice!.
*After reading the first bit of the foreword I feel compelled to add this, it is pertinent and I forgot to write it in as I was taking a different path for this evening however due to my timeline of events as noted in the foreword I will hold true to my writes.
Add.'1
My older brother Ed said this "she be dead if it weren't for me", this was in a visit during the month of October 2018. He said it to a couple of his friends while visiting here at my home in Parkmerced as in a casual talk about my older sister Tamara, as odd the subject of strange had come-up again, the subject of that MDMA ("MDMA as a catalyst for effective treatment of PTSD. ... Originally manufactured in the early 1900s to help control bleeding, MDMA became more commonly used in the 1970s and early 1980s by some psychiatrists to assist in the treatment of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) https://adf.org.au/insights/mdma-ptsd/).
There was no casual for me as I had never heard him say that before, it was jaw-dropping to tell you the truth. To hear him say that as frankly was hurtful as his behavior represented terror following their departure, almost as if those memories flooded his brain and it became represented through his method of guise to recognition, it was those eyes again, briefly I spotted that gash, a gnashing of teeth, it frightened me.
"(Wouldn't it just be a funny kind of revenge if every poem I have written on this blog works into something I am writing presently and can be better understood than when the poem is standing alone. Just like the last three have shown to be. Strangely odd don't you think?)"
Foreword: An Independent Mind, Knot Logic
Disclaimer; I have no formal education. I was removed from school never graduating. I write to relieve the pressure/pain of "thought" off my mind, I am streaming my consciousness. This is a comfortable way to get the things that are on it off it.This may better explain;
Nothing Said
The rolling tape in my brain dead head,
shows pictures of all, they just aren't dead,
in spirit or mind or soulful dread,
pictures showing with nothing said.
I began writing a few things down on paper in 1999. It was not until 2009 I wrote all of this poetry. I am not a poet by any means, it is just how all the pain chose to come out of me at the time. I never read what I write, it scares me. I do however try to date it so I will eventually be able to develop a time-line for myself. Stupid I guess but it is true. I finally found the password to the blog I began in 2008. All that you have read so far is mostly the stuff I wrote down on paper in the interim. I have a need to go public so I am in the process of catching up with what I have already expressed.
Here goes:
I have had a heavy heart most of my life. I am here to right the wrongs. I do not know if this is something I was born with or if it came to fruition after I had been raped at the age of Two and Three and so on.
I remember thinking, "I do not have to remember everything they are saying, I must keep my eyes open and remember everything they are doing".
This actually was a complicated task, as whenever they made my bottles, they would put these drops in before anything else. From what I thought was a small glass tincture jar (this is all looking back with what I have now, a more adult and educated view to express what I am seeing inside of my mind). I remember them saying, "one, two, three? do you think that's going to be enough this time?" "No, do more, at least nine or ten. We don't want her to talk".
I hated closing my eyes, you never knew what would happen. I used to see lots of colors, like dreaming in Tye-dye or being inside of a kaleidoscope. It used to make me feel sick inside. All the banging and the pounding. It seemed to come from both inside and outside all at once.
Its weird when you look back and realize that you were really hurt. Bleeding everywhere and always sore. I never knew what to do, they, my family, would always say, "You dirty girl, you make us behave like this! Stop! spreading your legs". This was kind of difficult since I used to be put into a metal brace. I was severely pigeon-toed. I used to scream, then they just goo'ed this stuff all over me and left. This was always done in my bed at night.
The past year of 2008 my eldest brother said this, "you know you were molested?", "you know they used to put shit in your bottle". I answered by looking straight at him, "I have never forgotten". He was silent. Thanking goodness for small favors he spoke no more on the subject.
Its strange how years after the fact he said this to me. Almost as if it was a news flash. Good thing I never forgot personally because what he said out of the blue may have been to much of a shock for me to take. It could have sent me into a mind-set that I may have never recovered from. It kind of did anyway. It is after this incident that I really started to write anything down. He seemed purposeful in his attack. I am exact in mine.
I have written this book of poetic verse, it seems to be the only way that the horrors will come out of me. The flow of this novel will be tough for you to read. However I have found it to be a graceful release of my mind, from the nightmares and horrors I survived as a child.
I do not want pity. I do not want you to feel ill about any of it. I just want to exist somewhere, someplace where I am not told "get over it", "shut-up", "everyone has a bad life". I do not want to be an ugly stain, a throttled voice or a beaten soul. I want to heal, if at all possible, I want closure for my life of such horrors and traumas.
I have been diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. A team of good-hearted souls has surrounded me, supporting me in this endeavor. You may find that this book sucks your mind into a place of disbelief. It's meant to do just that. I want you to know my life has been surreal. Sadly the events really took place.
I hope that every poem speaks to you. I hope that through my writings I am able to show you healing through perseverance not fear. I hope for you to know that I believe you. Bad things do happen. Survivors do exist today, they only continue to do what they do best, survive.
This is to all the ones that nobody believed. Here is to your own personal healing. Here is to all the tomorrows that we have not experienced. Here is to the heart of all the ones that did not make it through. I know you! I hear your cries! I know your pain! I feel your sorrow. I feel your spirit. I see your Faith that continues to believe that somebody will survive and tell the story in such a way that we can all heal together dead or alive. Healing from only one verse.
To the magic of the blessed lives lost. To the magic of the blessed lives saved. To the magic of the simple verse. To the magic of true words. To the magic of nothing lost, only gained. To the magic of all of you. To the magic of a mysterious life, Mine! Thank you for believing. Thank you for being there. From me to each of you, thank you!
P.S. Just a note.
It is not that the poems make sense to you in the beginning. It is what they say to you and how you use what they have said in your own life. You may find these ramblings say nothing. You may relate in such a way it becomes paralyzing. I wrote this for my mind. I want to have this get off of my heart. So this may go everywhere, it may go nowhere, but, at least it went somewhere for me. Now I know that no matter how much pain I exist in daily, I am not a dirty girl. I was born, I survived and I want to learn to live free and happily. I want to learn love. In the end, I would like to learn how to be me or be myself around all of you naturally, without the embarrassment of myself daily.
5/29/2009
Sunday, August 19, 2012
The Proper Preparation for............
As Life delivers the next wipe-out,
I ready myself; Feeling no strife.
"I Live"
Do not despair, just repair yourself.
Knowing not your own complications,
until the strength you do have, appears.
For in this thought, I deliver honesty.
"I'm able"
Pain will only plague you, if, you deny.
In it's stead, agony steps-up to remind,
of what is not but could never be.
"Just 'cause"
For a Million-Ten is not 1000 Years.
You've already been and I bid you you're due!
A promise to self is bound by stealth.
"Knowing,"
is believing in myself.
~
Saturday, August 18, 2012
The Truth Makes Me......Know that the Fight is Worth my Life
Cruelty towards another person is common place today.
Kindly verse to counter such twistedness is rare.
Seemingly, a person will throw not a defense,
but will be what they seem to be so naturally;
Repulsively rude.
I do look for each and every type of way to be towards this;
I trip upon my own sensitivity.
On this I must resist.
The injury of or damage to a like-minded Soul;
I guess I am just not whole.
However, the destruction of Innocence for Entertainment is more.
It becomes what I would call a Sadistic Roll.
Why destroy what does not hunt you?
Why tear down what is trying not to bind?
Why cover your controlling Mind,
with the fraudulent mix of what you sign?
Each One!
A Human Being; Has the ability to shine!
Honesty is,
a rare, unique, a special find.
Be the individual that is not blind.
Gain your sight through patience and by design.
Force not an opinion down one being or another.
The freedom of Belief is the Innocence of Life.
To refer, to show, such disgust towards belief of times,
when Civilizations have been lost,
due to murderous ways of the few.
Is a disappointment and should be the shame that is due.
We have lost,
"The Incan, The Aztec, The Mayan."
As fear still inhabits man as we near the date predicted to be,
the end.
Murdered, burned out; Human Beings.
Left to rot from sickness,
which we brought.
Yet! We Fear what they held dear, their own "Spirituality."
Not matching our own destruction,
thus, this has become ours to own,
and slavery seems our zone.
Now down to the bone ~ 2012,
has a war of it's own.
A marked day, a given month,
to recover what has roamed.
To near the calendar-less claims,
the Timeless Tells of Centuries past.
I am not shocked at the speed of which Humanity searches for relief,
of the guilt, of the wipe-out, of what really may have just been: Choice.
The Secret of the Universe!
Choice
Choice
~
"The Horse is Dead-Dismount!"
"Indeed. Dismount. Time for a burial and a nice graveside ceremony.
Shoot a few rounds of blanks into the sky; Shout a couple of
Hallelujahs and 'Blessed Be's;' Offer a burnt sacrifice by way of dried
narcissus and dehydrated garlic, but grieve it ~ and leave it."
Author Unknown
Inside of the insidious thought lies in residence and in pensive detail a
Mind. A Mind of the trapped kind. Not by what is, but, rather by what
was. It is the history we store for reasons unknown, that seems to
create the future in which we will one day inevitably end-up living our
lives. In this life of gracious acceptance of our past as our
instructive merit to "Duty and Honor," we may find that our voids will
be filled, our wants become null and our needs recognized as extras
afforded to us by the design of Nature in her wonderment.
The ability of what is unknown becoming known to us, is as adventure of
the thrill-seeking individual. Understanding that one hand within the
other, brings us to the heights of "Why" we begin a Journey or seek to
go on a Quest is imperative to such an idea. This must be a category
unto its own.
Believing that we are each here for a specific purpose, then I believe
that birth delivered with us "Innocence." With such gifts, much like
this one, which were bestowed upon us at our deliverance into this
World, we are capable of breathing in the Heir of Life-Itself, in order
to enhance our time while under Mother Nature's watch.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
The Big Bang Created Me
Delivered into the mouth of an Ancient Dragon.
This is what I know to be,
this is "Me."
Always was, and, always will be.
I am only a child in a World not known,
a World lost to all who knew of such things.
My Father created Me!
He called upon his father's father,
and father's father.
He called upon an ancient line of ancestors,
a linear view of what he knew.
And thus, he broke the rules.
For in his death, he gave me life,
and, death is what I know life to be.
Wednesday, August 15, 2012
Do Not Speak!
To utter even one word may cause a person to smash your World.
A small and fragile state.
My Mind is a sensitive kind.
Never telling in full report,
the details of what haunts my Port.
Each and every word,
pours upon my wounds; It hurts.
I feel left inside a Storm.
Thrown the occasional Sail; It's torn.
One day I will sew my mend,
and understand that I can,
start again.
With my eyes I will shout my lore.
I cannot find, but cease my more.
Healing me,
while staying safe,
from those Nightmares that you state.
Intellectual Heir Of Mind
To be privy to what has passed,
is the simplicity of birth itself.
Turning from what is brought with you,
complicates this type of view.
The moment that reality bites upon your life,
shock occurs.
The further from this belief,
becomes what is not innocent relief.
Stalemate is nothing more,
than denial of what is.
Practicality and Reason can be,
more than what is actually seen.
Popularity often bleeds unnaturally,
the need or want to glean!!
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
Sunday, April 22, 2012
The Fright of the hour approaches...the darkness brings encroachment of.....
I wake to know that sleep is fright
the night brings this to me.
To close your eyes, to see the past,
brings out these words you read.
Often more than not, it seems,
reality does blur.
Can you wake from fear to take
or do you sleep my Sir?
Spending life inside the strife
of Adults and their whims of life
is more than most can bare.
I seem to host the onward, forward question of
"When does this nightmare dare?"
Why do they pull you with their fear;
of life back then, the sixties were clear.
Did they think, that if they left you with their parents too,
They'd be found out for sure and tout, it's all because of you?
I do believe this must be fact,
for I was singled out.
My brother, sister, older than I,
were raised by whom I speak about.
But, with me, it's often said,
"Where did she come from, she acts so dead."
"There is no similarity, between the siblings three."
The two you left for us to raise, speak with forked tongues to say,
" An affair did make her just this way."
Horror grasped my being that day.
Your Father agrees, "Get on your knees, your children need this sight."
Confess to us this child's deeds,
forgive yourself this night.
My Mother ran, with me in hand,
ignored her parents pleas.
Until this day, I wondered...
stayed quiet for my health was touched
sickness plagued my body
throwing up this sickness of the words I heard, the plagued.
I stick with whom declares some truth,
but lies still come blaring through.
A lesson learned of life time pain,
a turn, a glance at what took the chance
to be free and feel the wild romance
of the city lights and men.
No truth will ever be told from those,
that are so bold to lie.
You would have to lose your mind,
then try to find an ear to plead your case.
It seems until you find yourself in this type of bind,
you just continue on your way,
leaving the deadly signs behind,
never to remind yourself: Be kind.
It's always truth or dare to me,
that pressure of your exposure breeds,
my innocence to be.
Scream they do, those ones on here.
Where coats are worn like cloaks of fear.
Upon the setting Sun; Each and every one,
when darkness creeps and makes me run,
from persons of this character, they sneer.
They tout, "You'll never get away, 'cause I'll shout and block the Bay."
"I don't do!" "I'd never be!"
A Guy or Gal that you would see
out and about in the downtown fairs,
where Dungeons, Lairs and Whores compare,
the going price if you dare.
To me, it seemed a daily deed,
to watch and ready for.
You never knew which of them came through,
your home may become the next throne: Duty.
Company. That's what they'd say,
"desires your attention."
"Sit-up straight and don't you Hate!"
My way of life, or, did I mention.
Long times did pass,
this was the way, to see their dishonesty and shame.
Never did I want to be,
a human being.
To tell such lies and prepare those lines,
all to snare their prey.
Should I grow-up,
survive what's rough, this sultry type of life.
I'll always say,
"Be honest, give way,"
for I won't lie to you.
Do you enjoy the style of nights
that bring you those silk stocking tights?
Are you the type that looks and views,
lusting after more?
Be not ashamed?
Hide not behind the Internet to see.
Discretion is wise I know,
'cause of this dirty game.
Playing with these types of Chains,
will link the misery to you.
It may even shift that missing link,
forever you'll be too.
Beware of the Spook in YOU!!
A Liar is never true.
Saturday, April 21, 2012
The Honesty of One Insight to what happened upon each Night
That pressure that your exposure breeds,
my innocence I'd like to keep.
Scream they do, those ones I've seen,
where their coats were worn like guilty beings.
Upon each setting Sun,
when darkness made me run,
these persons that I speak of here,
would begin to tout the curse.
A hidden booth scenario tried on,
"I don't do" / "I'd never be"
A guy or a gal that you would see
about this town or in the fairs,
where Dungeons, Lairs and Midnight stares will compare
for the price of such a dare.
To Me, I guess it seemed a daily deed.
To watch and ready for!
You never knew which one came through,
your Home may become the next big nest, you really never knew.
Company!!
Announced, that is what they would say,
that Parental Stay that is.
Desires your attention, a forceful voice was heard.
Sit up straight and liberate, but don't you dare show any hate.
My way of life,
did I mention.
Long times would be this way with me,
the path that only I could be.
Dishonesty and shame plagued myself, never did I want to be,
a human being with lies to tout
and pre-prepared lines to shout.
Should I survive, if I grow-up, live through all of this rough stuff
and be able to get through this sultry type of life.
I'll always be and say to thee,
"Be honest and give way!"
For I will not lie for you but try I will to do.
Do you enjoy the style of the deep and lurid nights that creep,
the ones that bring silk stockings too.
The girls where the pointed shoes, high heels, they were known to you.
Are you the type that likes to look at all the views of what erupts,
temptation, lust and so much more,
it brings you to the Dungeons Door?
Be not ashamed at your Five Star taste,
for more than that is required to be with these kind of tempting beings.
Discretion is wise, it's a dirty game.
To play with Chains and Whips with plain, hooks attached for you.
All of this may shift your mind,
the missing link is not your kind,
for birthed in each of all that want,
never share this type of taunt.
It is the dare or possibly the snare,
I set you in a trap.
The missing link is so far found,
inside the mind of what's not bound.
All for the sake of the hidden truth,
for once a Liar, twice a fool,
and simply said "That just is not so cool."
for those of us that drink from the Challis of the Dark
Friday, April 20, 2012
Armor of the Darkest Fare
Where are the Immortal Ones?
The Divine, the Sage or the Oracle?
The Keepers of the Gates?
Have they abandoned their posts?
Does Satan's Shield guard these places once known?
A Dark Fare, produce your payment, produce your wares as well.
This is such a callous act to view these days and times it seems are here.
To turn your back at Centuries past, of calls, I hear the cry.
You asked, but I do say with honesty of sight,
you do deserve this curse, it plagues you every night.
Show not your shield,
your Family fell, your patronage dissolved.
The individual now you are, in such a stance you stare.
Covet not your present loss: Pay the cost instead.
Just friendly advice I give to you,
it comes from the very beings below.
Unkempt you are in structure of,
belief or moralistic stand.
Project you do, with vocal stance, you scream..
"For pleasure only, I reside on Earth, my choice, my wealth, my right."
To be caught without the Armor of ancestral strength.
A Satanic or and Evil lead,
blame not the judge who brought the laws upon yourself,
it is you who carry's through.
A Sage? An Oracle? Or a riddle to solve,
the mortal view of some.
Declare to yourself the failure of a moral and righteous stand.
No being should live in fear.
Of Course unless you transgress your being,
you will be addressed some day.
In all of your moralistic lies,
this would be the time to know.
Your finish will come soon to you,
the mortar of your truth.
To prey upon another being,
will be a hard core fact to thee.
For once you're born; A birth record.
Why be born again?
Removal of a Mother's right,
immoral for you to have done.
To try to force yourself this way,
is to say, you stood before you could.
Removing the Maternal Way.
Arrogance in such a spread
of blasphemy and more.
Is what is hated and related in this land today.
To disrupt such natural states,
creation set forth to be.
Removes a prominent point of status,
even Evolution bleeds.
Find the blame for yourself,
it lies within your being.
To presume that you could be
as wise as Monks and Kings.
Forget not what you have done,
to layman and the like.
Your actions of such disregard, records in Halls of Lies.
Not to one or two or more,
but, you influence the World this way.
'Til today you teach you seem much like the leach.
For your patronage of such,
opinions that do spread.
To most, the evident host is scoffed, ignored and since long dead.
Your laws so stiff, with those changing clauses
which blows in the prevailing wind.
Encounter doubt, it's what I shout,
you only scream to move about.
There will be a day,
when one may say,
"You fool, your Origin lacks!"
upon review, there is no sight,
you just rip off whats new.
Upon such wisdom of innocent views,
the questions will blind your push to bind, the weary and the scared.
Your take over of, to shove your sight
with know regard or precedence to who,
will evident the life of those that fight you with their might.
A peaceful resign,
I offer now, to derail this long tall tale.
The few who will not be in-line, support the railing.
They say with certain tact and fact,
we are not many and we suffer the rack.
It's true, I stated by no mistake,
my shock and horror did show.
In response, I spoke in tones, in low they were so heard.
A Fighter, A Warrior, I am not known,
but quit I will not do.
I'd rather speak with outward voice,
with vocal sound and written verse
to present this stance for you.
I may be singular in my view,
the majority I know is seen.
In the end, I will not have sinned,
but stood with dignity,
and told what I will do.
Even if I have lack of numbers,
to support my growing sense.
Life still sees and liberty grows within my very being.
Blessed be my every vote for such,
of what I dream to be.
of what I dream to be.
At least I speak of other means,
to use this gift that birth gave me
to get through life with what I need
and not with what you're told you lack upon the entry of.
Your own imaginative thought will be,
free and never bought.
free and never bought.
This came when we were seeking out the place to call our own.
Mother Earth and Creation did all the work we seldom see these days.
But in all truth I know this too,
Evolution does the job each day,
that makes our history true,
and witness we all still do.
Evolution does the job each day,
that makes our history true,
and witness we all still do.
The Secret of the Hidden Booth
European Men do say, so I've heard,
"B.D.S.M. is a Choice!"
Only in the conservative mind
does a 'Being' find this a joke.
Silent practice of what this is all about,
an act of Life long interest.
One does not happen upon,
it's birthed inside of us.
I witness not to what I can't,
I know that most condemn this Art.
My interest in my childhood facts
is nothing more than good.
A life like mine,
I know it's rare,
I've seen so much more, it's true.
Most of you, the general view,
is get away, please shew.
Why must people point at what
they never could comprehend or even have understood.
Just turn your head, hold up your hand,
state your view of lust.
Instead, you sneak and look upon the Internet to see.
Your interest peaked by what is neat,
the fear in you will drive you too!
You'll ask.
What am I missing?
What could this be?
Behind this iron curtain for me?
All in secrecy.
It's Red in fact,
if memory serves this person who writes/declares on here.
It's meant to hold the cowards back,
a heavy drape of truth.
Separating you from the view of the Lurid Fair of two.
Dungeons go deeper still,
down stairs, 'round bends and turns.
The excitement of such a steep decline
into the heart of must: Trust!
A pit of the vocal kind of sight,
I dare to go this path once more,
stop me not! from this I go,
it's you who does resist the pull.
This flavor of what can't be dreamt,
upon my mind does rest this tempt,
of journeying to this place.
Going there, is not a dare,
I stare at you and think,
"Why must you always blink?"
The Dungeons serve Eclairs.
Nerves of steel are not so real,
anticipation rings!!
My mind does reel, with the film,
I saw in places of.....
A Nightmare? "No"
This is so true, if not fact for fact.
An honest stay back in the day,
of the Sixties, this is so.
Lasting longer than one day,
dependent on your vice.
Sometimes it seemed a little rough,
you would say it was not nice.
What is this that you do protest?
They're memories to Me.
To see inside my Minds Eye,
would cause you envy and you may cry,
but, what I say is true, 'cause why bother to lie.
All for the sake of the hidden booth!!
Thursday, April 19, 2012
The turn of Innocence. A Star? A Circle? An interest in the Dark...
Where are the places that I've been?
In my youth I saw.
Where are these places stuck in my mind?
Where are you hiding?
In all time?
You spoke the Incantations of the Dark,
my eyes, wide open!
Trained in the protection of hearts and souls,
I did not protest as we went below.
The room began to distant itself,
I was merely a child in your midst,
a gentle persistent move from where?
I often ask myself.
The deepest and darkest beings appeared,
speaking in archaic verse.
I heard them clearly,
I understood, did you know of this?
Sit quiet, I heard in a whisper,
so near to me, this tone of he,
speaking on his own.
Men in robes with hoods or cloaks guarded this realm around.
Swaying to the tune of found,
gave weight to the levity.
Demanding those to produce themselves,
I shook in fear.
I witnessed this frightful scene.
My youthful innocence protected me
from the curse of such an act.
Not once, not twice was I brought to be.
More times than I could count.
My nights were filled with these strange times,
"a child of the guild" I was;
Where did you all so go?
Now that I am adult,
in venue I do act.
I wonder and I miss these days
to know the truth of this: I yearn, please don't resist.
Will you guide my way?
The Beings that spoke were Red to me,
I see them in my mind.
My inner eye recorded such,
my ears did hear the words you lust.
Does this practice,
of the Dark Arts,
exist upon this Earth?
Active after each account,
I know the members were.
They spoke of times that I saw,
the sexual prowess it did ignite
bewilderment, madness and what seemed like fright.
The strangeness of all the night,
never mentioned, it seemed so tight.
The Men were filled with motive,
to do more of what they'd done.
This thirst filled each and everyone,
the quench of which did run.
Does this tale of what was then,
interest you today.
Do the dungeons and lairs persist in silent prayer?
Do they want to play?
Or, is this type of privileged act,
held in silent accord?
Is it in the safety of the mansions and the more.
Does night fall here,
while the Sun rises where the men are kept at bay?
Dangerously I live with this,
I seemed to have gone astray.
Trained without regard to where I might reside in life.
I hid myself and held my tongue
until this very day.
I'm old enough to finally see,
the curious part inside of me
desires the answer for..
There are these videos I see
reminding me of times
when I was young and scared.
To fetch me now,
would be just how,
to know my actual means.
Silently I do report, I go about the way.
It is the year to expose
"The Secret of the Hidden Booth"
Play me
As the Years roll, the Seventh Year approaches so quickly and without change
Waiting as the years pass with a slow and hurtful pull: I go alone.
Thoughts of what was, I close my eyes and dream while I sleep to the memories of old.
All has disappeared, no photo's, no calls, no place to visit, just gone, no where found.
No reason to ask the question, "Why?"
The answer shows up everywhere.
In disdain,
in constant hurt,
I hear no appeal to my cry or try to connect.
There was no purpose to such abandonment that I see,
until, Six Years later, told so plainly,
"I never want to see you again!!"
Not once do I find reason for this discord,
just comply with the wish of the ones that have spoken their peace.
Dissolve and absolute,
no room for discussion.
The choice was announced.
I bow out and find that which was never there,
a presence of what I could have only perceived as an imagination of my life's dedication.
A Life changed in one singular stroke of another.
I abandon all of what I thought I knew and had held in comfort and love.
I run with the Wolves,
I have been given an opportunity to run wild and free,
I will return to youthful dreams.
Six and one-half years have passed.
Upon the Seventh the words which I have spoken shall come to fruition.
Upon the stroke of such I shall leave and go a different way.
I wish luck to all of those who need such in their lives.
Each and every person upon this beautiful Earth who survives such a break,
be yourself in such an ordeal, be no other, you are amazing as you are today.
Listen to your inner person,
fill not yourself with the self-help books of other experiences,
take not advice from strangers.
Be Wise, be peaceful, be calm.
Know that all happens for reasons of your own personal growth.
Be discreet with your feelings,
-or- those feelings will be exploited by predators upon sight of such abandon of such.
Feel your birth into this Society of Hate and choose to Love instead.
In loss, you will find the greatest gain,
no matter the possessions you may be missing,
you exist and can live to begin again.
You are not an option for them to reap you of yourself during these tumultuous times.
A stern approach of defense of your will to be will show and be your truth.
Be free to relish in this little known fact.
Believe in your presence upon this Earth as not random but a gift.
The very sake that you survive such challenges
proves your worth to yourself and will hold at bay any intruder upon your being.
Be pensive.
Consider the cost of the toll you have already paid thus far,
in your life and in the lives of others that may have advantaged you in the past.
Regard not your future,
care for your present, your body, your mind, your heart and your soul.
Surround yourself with what is natural, Nature.
Avoiding the noise of all the options that other Human Beings present to you will benefit you now.
Instilled within our very selves
we have been blessed with knowledge and capability to know repentance.
Accept these natural and eternal gifts which came with your birth.
Forget not your travels to all the troubled places that have plagued your life.
In these places you have learned to exist and live again.
You were before, you will be again.
Should you accept yourself as you are,
simple, uncomplicated, intelligent, able to learn and to adapt,
than you will continue, I trust this fact in myself.
Find strength in difference,
not sanity in the unclaimed pain in which you may still exist.
Freedom comes at such a great cost.
That is why it has the greatest expense and yet the rewards are unending to each of us.
Expression of Truth and to put a voice to our communication of our existence
should not be filled with lies to pacify the listener or passing stranger.
To do so will only prove a disservice to every man, woman and child.
In this instance of no regard for our existence or what should be told with frankness,
speak with your own freedom to express what you feel is correct within the bounds of your life.
Should you curb what is said and cannot speak with the freedom of your own personal thought,
you will only further the extinction of what is real:
The fight for all of us to live free from such oppression of the
embarrassment brought on by others and their words of callous
disregard towards each of us and with no thought to our well-being .
The Revolution Of A Single Life
Travel the imagination that birthed your Mind.
The corners, the turns, the dead-end appeals.
No wonder can enhance your brain,
if you stop your interest in yourself.
A Heart! A Soul!
Let it cry in agony, delight or relish in its choice.
Do not put constraints of others on your being.
Be Human.
Plea to no invisible..................!
Just because of what you are told is there.
Look up, look out, look all around
before you dare go to these places.
Belief in so much that we are told.
Where are our own convictions?
Do we bury each of them?
Complying with their truth?
Could or can we be so free,
to experience rivalry?
With sexual pleasure or tender thoughts?
Should we give-up with no sight of what is rammed down our throats?
I say to Mother Earth,
to Creation and I am sure what is worse.
Is it Evolution that takes away our choice?
I do not know but, I do ask,
these questions in me grow.
You have to decide which way to go.
Independently and on your own, all by yourself.
I am walking, sometimes I run,
mostly I am halted in all this fear.
The attacks for such a lack of this blanket belief,
extracts a mighty toll: I pay.
The cost is high, I do agree.
The road is rough, the pot holes I do still fall in.
The chance I take to be free,
I give not thought to me.
To be free from sin is the way I've done,
since my own begin.
Gingerly I warn to those,
who think that these roads aren't worn.
Not only are they not repaired,
but many lives are lost out there, not one that I have seen has been spared.
For holding the same or similar belief,
each one that I did know in person,
we were blessed with the wisdom to be.
Our fortune came with this simple note
our lives, they were not free.
One day, I may or will protest.
I need to hold still long enough to face,
all that happened, all those Cons.
I witnessed, I did protest.
Although I am only one now,
a single being it's true.
I understand the study of the land which I do live.
It only takes one to change,
the Worlds view today
of all the Masses and not just a few.
For this challenge of life itself,
I simply say, "I do."
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
To Consider the Shock of the Light and the Dark
Lightning, Thunder, Nature Rolls,
a natural riddle rhymes.
With salt & pepper, a super wealth,
no country desires this stealth.
I glide into humanity.
The view is of a Sty.
I look to see it is not me
and guide myself from thee.
In such naked exposure,
a shot to never take.
Will my life turn over
or does the Clover make......?
Prepare for bedtime stories,
of flights in life not made.
Dream at night of what you'll be,
while I bow out so gracefully.
No Deed will go unpunished.
No Song will ever play.
In what a life of strife has done,
no interest: I am threw.
An easy and a planned escape,
look out for past mistakes.
Don't point the finger at each other!
I heard four point you.
I'd ask for an opinion,
but, so many judge this road.
Perdition was a Movie.
My life, I try to live.
Although I seem to just exist.
Do not knock this path I'm on.
I do believe you must do this
before you try to row.
To try to do or complete such feats,
will prove to be a song.
Getting on with all you must,
I levy,
"Who do you trust?"
Questioning does not beg itself!
It's the indifference that is in between.
Spouting out your next move,
"Do you play Chess with Life?"
So easily you count; You do!!
Make sense to me? "I don't think so."
The noise between us seems to grow,
while yelling out the score.
Do you stop to smell a Rose?
How does this plan strike you?
Complaining words is all I hear,
it streams across everywhere.
To end the madness one final time,
will cause most skin to crawl.
Spout out the reasons to listen to
on how it's treason due.
Be not the voice that needs to speak.
Leadership is more!
The greater a person walks to be,
the less the fight in Me.
Tuesday, April 17, 2012
A Direction of Difference
Waiting at the end?
Don't.
No reply is ever needed,
if you cannot rely on any one person to show.
Assumptions seem to layer most of the minds today.
In death you think the same way too.
Your curiosity, it seems,
still does interest me.
Why would "They" be waiting?
A relative, you persist.
Do you take so readily?
That which you hear; Exists?
Why than do you sharply
turn from other words of difference?
Not only do you close your mind,
but, you stop!, to turn away at any and all kinds of different thought of the same or similar.
Renouncing all that is said,
do you even read?
Any word? Or maybe just one?
No, you judge and throw behind this verse,
so blindly you disregard.
Underneath this cruelty
that the critics seem to spew.
Even more of this new dynamic thought,
it just seems to bother you.
Is it the unspoken language heard?
The never written verse?
A Riddle in the making,
or, the unending of perverse?
Could it be the very,
indecent proposal of,
what is not just supposed,
but, spoken and written in Love?
Confusion does not merit,
an interest in my life.
For if you were to tarry,
you would find I'm not so nice.
I charge for all my mights.
I will come both day and night.
I am so simply bored,
with assumptions and the more.
It seems there's always digging:)
A delightful excitement breeds,
not just for the anxious,
but for the curious I see.
Fight the impending tide,
of all that read, not type.
You get for free a show from Me
of wonder and delight.
Am I so uptight? A Riddler that just likes?
Of course I must be, but do I sound,
I pose the question lightly,
for I write only, what challenges me, upon this Earth tonight.
I write the words and develop the prose that causes so much strife.
Do you ever seek?
That which is "The Meek?"
For if you do not possess,
a talent or a test,
than left you are for all of them
and Death is left for Me.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Assisting A find
Adoring what?
A question for whom?
No calls, never answer,
a voice not heard.
You will miss, not.
A heart beat: No sound.
A rhythm not felt.
Walking into a set-up?
Forward facing recommended.
Life, Death, Existence?
Which one frowns upon a self-made being?
Reading Mans words fills the voids.
Writing ones thoughts, is it a sin?
Dependent upon the stimuli?
Everyday a vixen.
Abhor?
No better... No worse.
The ready pace,
neck in neck,
down to the wire we go.
It's by a nose.
A winner?
I loose.... once again
I do not fraught at such a task,
better lucky than good any day!
To not win.
I ponder nothing in this turn,
a rival is gained.
A site upon what could change.
Look upon my Sunrise, not my Sunset.
You are a Founding Sire.
A friend found, a target sought,
no loss in a photo finish.
I gain the sight of so much more
by proposing a HALT, not charge.
An Equine term to salivate
for a clever is a bit.
My poll is soft, I foam.
Could the stance of a rider be such?
To mount a horse astride myself,
not for the faint of heart.
For that is not a Lady's call;
Side Saddle is what I do recall.
Side Saddle is what I do recall.
Sexual thought bounds this tact,
the bending of the novel approach.
I dare not!
Please, re-coach!!
The stars I see in wonder-dust
I plea to the dream of never.
I enter the room: Ride me.
Kindly I listen to hear.
I Implore for more?
A term to serve,
a prospective job to look forward too.
I yearn for tomorrow and yet I am still in this day.
A term to serve,
a prospective job to look forward too.
I yearn for tomorrow and yet I am still in this day.
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