Genesis-518

The sum of nature The remainder of sums I live in the shadow of stardust Looking away from the pull Bound to a prison Under the weight of sky I am a prisoner of reality Shackled to humanity A slave to live Punished by death

There is a sound in the silence That resonates empty time Filled with the stories of past and future Where lessons are taught and learned It is in this place That I listen There is a sight on the horizon That shows the way home Where ancestors and unborn stand together Shoulder to heart That  point the way Where I go There is a scent of flowers in the air Cold and hot in the evening wind Filling the air with satisfaction Of feast in the morning When we eat There is a taste on the tongue Sweetness of sour memories That gives us sustenance And fills our hearts With grace There is a feeling of weight Bearing down on my sh

If I had riches I would pay your debt If I had the strength I would hold up the world To carry your burden I would lay my life before you As a sheet of love And wrap you in stars We are a heavy debt I pay it gladly Yet I have only my life So use it with care For I am placing my life in your hands So hold me tight Lest I slip through your fingers And lose you forever

I hear a voice in the back of my existence She tells me to tell stories of song that sings of life and love and a way to use this form to tell a song that sings a story that will echo off the stars beyond the universe beyond the ears of God to the realm of absolutes to the end of the beginning to the beginning of the end the end of the end and beyond where time has not reached and all there is are the prints of our lives Say no more for I will tell the story of a life’s song

Fricated flint sparks a toxic breath Curls a finger of light Touches my worry entrapment Messages its body until black I filter its soul with water and glass Then breath her deep into my lungs I love her She takes away the stress  Worry    Fear      Hate She fills me with lust   Hunger      Laughter         Joy And everything is better with her inside of me I breath her soul back into the sky Let the stars take her to a better place I cannot keep her She does not belong to me I only get to keep her For seconds I will fall asleep Humbled by her memory I will long for her tomorrow

I'm cold... I'm always cold. I can't remember the last time I saw the sun, felt the warmth...the heat.   I can't remember the last time I could see the green of the earth, or the birds of the sky.   And the more I think about it, the more I realize that it is improbable.  If I can't remember...truly remember...then it probably never happened.  It was all part of a dream, a continuous fantasy that I tried to believe was real, in order to escape my reality.  Trying to forget how cold I was. Every day I wake up, a little more than the day before.  And every day I realize more and more just how unreal my life was.  How cold it was...how

Three feet a pyramid of wood In the den where the fearful stood Comes the shadow without the sound Where deaf and dumb are lost and found The shadow in a grave of glass Patiently waits for lips to pass To work her evil from the gut To reach the mind her work will cut In all her forms I love her A white mist breathes from lip to lung From the silence where devils sung Between teeth where the lonely scream Drowns with tar carried by the steam The cloud of hate worn as a coat Into the minds of fear she'll float Propelled by the winds of the face To lay the minds of men to waist In all her forms I love her From the ivory of he

Obsessed, fearful, psychotic.  No matter what you call it, it just isn't right.  And now…my birthday.  Woohoo, this nut has a birthday.  I hate this stuff.  A party to celebrate another year of paranoia and obsession hidden away from all of these suckups.  And all of these people, what the hell are they doing here.  Nothing more than acquaintances.  However I can't let them think I am ungrateful, it would take me out of my routine, make me do something bad.  And I can't have that.  Then they would all surely find out about my little history of mental illness.  I can't go back to that room with the white padding, and only a small window.  The