the words: Buck Trick
- in Smile of Day -
Ocean waves beat Rhythms into the earth that force the heart and hips explore; the spirit of the day, this day, is becoming of it's own,
a part of the crimson inlaid secrets sounding through the dawning night.
Within amber rum, the souls bathe of the helpless, wade lost and found into seas of people on rivers of streets.
Rejoice or remember, resound or reply into the life of the mountainous. The tropical rise of days. - This day.
Hands aloft, feet beset on all sides within cacophony's exhalations.
Bold celebration in Phoenix of the sun as now the multiplying stars divide the depth of rich liquid night into a silk inlaid Universe of jewels.
The gaunt of tremulous wave lends way to imperfections and repercussions for those who lift to ask. Music and laughter become their own, thickening the height and enriching the soul. Let the Spirit soar … Allow cup's runneth over, the spilling of delight...
...it is tuesday; and I smile of the day. ~ bt
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“We know only what we realize we know. All the rest is reactionary influence.” ~ rlb
- morrow -
I have eaten of fruit which brings
Insight and Sorrow
As evening tides Rise I will
drown in tomorrow
Through chalice of God or
His Savior son
With fractions of madness
In Visions, away, run;
from temptings and longings
Of a blasphemous one
For method of many
in fear will I circle
Misleading refusal's
Entombing denial
Ancestral be-headings,
encroaching, combining,
ascend unencumbered
brings fall of the rising
So cast away shadow
One's grounding your alter
You wait for the Offering
of Precious one's barter
To sever the guidance
of a wisdom lain fallow
as Evening tides Rise
you will drown in the morrow
-
... i whisper to myself for courage, on legs of salten porridge.
-
Without the discomfort of true challenge
what true comfort can we attain?
-
Isn't genius simply a more detailed awareness thru focus?
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-
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of the Gates we pass, both future and past, the present holds the key
- all my days -
All my days are trances
As all my nights are whores
And where the grey eve glances
The mind and soul implores
Of some ethereal dances
While foot falls hard the floors
For where the grey eye lances
The night will dawn no more
- when the water was good -
When the Water is good
the Time is envied by all
who were Not there
lo', will know
'Tableau
at our forego
of a Paradise where
Time was enjoyed by all
when the water Was good
. . . soft hands on soft reins do not always guide well the day ~
the Lost no longer moan, they scream. The Hurt no longer harm, they kill.
self reflection is a King with many kingdoms . . . and their dungeons.
-waiting aside to pick up the time of scraps left in your life-
i was older then, than i ever wish to be again.
- no where -
day after day of the very same
day
has brought me to where I had
feared the most
-no where.
- ladders -
siblings
hunt for life
in a vacant space
to skirmish one another
upon a Stronghold
believed their
ascent