Heir To Revolution ( Archived) (104)

Nene....I swear if your eating humans again after I excorcised that demon from you....*throws a cross at you* The power of Christ compells u!

But a good poem btw =D


Allen

Silent Dance With Charlie Chaplin

She was 13
majick number
freedom to Be
hair flying in hot dry air
and companion best
freinds on quest
pedals blurred as we rode
dusty twi lane
green and yellow grass, weeds
to left creekbed
babbling happily
to right mountainside
deep shaded pines
dappled ray floor, and needles
and just there
a forgotten moment
past-time dwelling left alone
skidded stops, we climbed
smells rich earth, deep, damp
whirring cicadas
and, before us staring
no saddened face, no forelorn feel
but age and age, steady still
built into majestic hillside
grey lined timbers, stacked
insulate mudpack...
black glassless windows, two
and welcome, no door
Step over the light/dark line
total blindness, a minute
then, into few a story
she felt along the wall ahead
paper wisps into hand
and a beautiful face, faded...
partial story of long ago
yet, history she held
then came alive
this man in picture!
Chaplin by type
and, on slippery earth flower, we danced
no speaking, no need
but, neither were we grand! oh, no
that breif moment taken back
in time, in mind
stays with her still
and, she ran her hand along the wall...

nene

As flow goes ever ahead
stories come and go
all part and parcel
to a whole being, one
layered skin, and life
built of tapestries
light and dark
stictching hues among tints

feather touched souls
calamity reverbs to silence
and the hammer falls
to void
enveloped muted accusations
hither and yon
blankets children
creating expected response

nene

The tote

inside this thing
is one life
family shunned
chilren
times wandered
and standing still

inside this thing
is many lives
new creations
revelations
and pure being
life lessons

Inside this thing
is me
is you
is ALL

Inside this tote
this walking sleeping
feeling, living, loving
thing

this tote
called skin
baggage
human being...

nene

it's all a blur
rushing past the window
myriads of colour
tens of thousands
shades of life and death
the drive was long
the journey slow
she stepped upon speedway
forgotten treasures
landmarks stamped in evermore
without pipints and names
what make of these speeding
visages, rushing now, behind
stop an instant, clarity
quicken, and mosiac blended
sites become mixtures of All
hand out the window
and try to grasp, or
just run fingers through life
at velocity
so
all this blur, and bleeding together
an intense rush of acceleration
to touch everything at once!
life can be exquisite
and profound beyond
the mere site of matter...

nene

timing by heart
a timelessness too vast
while the sphere rotates
we catch up with each other
a time before, share minds
a time after, share spirit
then, hearts see
in each other, time for them
to beat each second
a second hand
to soar each minute
minute dance timeless music


nene

a secret kept in fear
tells more of you
and, makes a dirty shame
of her
no fairness cruel and wrong
be beaten down in heart and soul
and stay with familiarity
or open doors to what we all have
to share and create more
she will not stand for being shamed
into silence
chained in frames
no violence, or harm
will she wish on any
yet, angry, and human is she
who waits again
while he asks of this
to play a comfort song
a lifetime spent
on facades and fronts
while pushed underwater
convenience to others
this will stop
it must

nene

what happens is life
regardless of strength to overcome
the fight becomes unwanted
as there will be no promises
pain becomes the pusher
choose what the ease will be
as easiest isn't always the call
to arms against so many

struggles too many
and weep at forceful vengence
the trick to have more eyes
when gouged out
few still remain
seeds to start all over
our hearts do what they will

mind scrambled, seering hatred
and, bruised we run
once damge is complete
what left to ruin
but the ruined
and trackless feet
make not roads

nene

how far is heaven?
millinium galaxies sprinkled
amongst twighlight beings
lifetimes, and ages ago
leap to blackholes
through tunnels and milky ways...
or
is it nearby
a mere breath, scent
flavour of ambrosia
is it waking
evryday?
is it in the eyes of the just
and sweet?
and subtle shadows of the dark
enriching hues and tints
to leap forward
toward us, while we
travel through it's essence
is it a trip through hell?
or, many trips
leaving sooty trails
of stories...

nene

Ready, true
fire and aim
metal of spirit
an extension of arms
armoured vulnerablility
common people, all
hail to the kingly one
and rain the parade
out
of throwns made of matchsticks
cards, drawn
and fullhouse reins
universal picture
a moments shutter click
and rigger happy small ones
aim for the knees
while bent in awe
face down
looking at us all
soiled

nene