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The counselor
In his superabundance
Is called to Good News
But falsely divinized by seduction
The original justice is destroyed
Death makes its entrance into human history simultaneously
With memory
Grace arrives to then remove and cancel those debts
Forgiven
Before penance
Having broken the well
Sin is a state
The pattern resonates
And we use all 5 senses to interpret and justify
Perpetually
Provisions
For manageable arrangement
Disambiguated and reassembled
Waiting for better use
The hook hung to Hell
Is seen only by shadow
Sews itself in junction
In an untimely age
It declares miracles are born from faith
Rejecting what was not in thirst for sacrifice
Operating under canon law rather than civil law
Vines cover the grave, the pile of back matter
With swords around neck
Prophets don’t write our prayers
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With righteous red envy
He raises his eyes
Can we get further than faith?
After all
You left your sons to perfect creation
To walk on snakes
The spring and origin, the woe of man
They’ll remain a shell of exogamy
Requiring death of the moon
A cannibalism of harvest bodies
Sorrow wells up in dirt
Water turns to winter
Mouths of misrepresentation
The knights perish
Tried in fear and trembling
Cover their left-handed nods
Their lyrical stars dialect
Spun by tales of futility
Refuse to rob the wake
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The poets lie
With marigolds and wild grasses
Drunk in their Dionysian contempt for day break
They’ve abandoned their fervor
For lamenting threats of absent love
Where broken mouths cry amen
A justice tempered by mercy
Writing letters only for ghosts
Atonement for the debt of beauty
Tossed in to the occidental seas
What is owed glory
But a meadow made for morrow
Which too may beg your borrow
Building mountains
Even covered in snow we’ll throw
Stolen language
A silhouette grown tall and strong
What of the songs we’ve sung
But mercenaries to the setting sun
Does the earth deserve our charm
Silent speech onto cold bones
Draped sheets on sharp stones
Corporations of thieves which quarrel quick
A forgotten hand upon lip
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At first blush
Looking blindly upon
Silent garments
An unbearable memory
Spirit restored to sheath
The oaks’ omniscience
Wasp wing wander
Taken back to the sky
We’re invite in
To fertile lands which laugh in reigns
In dealings with dust
Hell bent
Bets of seduction
Nicely nested
Rousing’s of rubies
Wages stolen
When won
Swallow sweeter
Desire all the way down
I heard there’s an ocean
In his crown
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Their unknowable talking heads
Lie in their gleaming, musing moor
Remain masters only of mountains
Born of a purity exiled
Who passes judgement to streams
Slithering sounds seen
And exalted earthen alter made
Where the shattered suck on light
Skin replaced by scales
Dead, stoned, and opaque
Your familiarity is fading
In his singing walls
An unpromising, promised land
Where restless and weeping
Spiral eyes exclaim
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Sitting upon sinisters, wise
Battle lines like rows of gems, threaded
Their scope of collision, conditioned
Want of flowered sage, deeper wells
To give an eye for an ear
Coloring speech and echoing sight
Lastly laughing
At the impossibility of drawing a rose
Your self found in
Crystal casts
A luminous dwelling
Shining, slaughtered cities on a hill
But sitting with scorpions
False boats cross fear bearing streams
Diminished forms
Radial swarms
Remnants of a ship wreck death
The ground heaved with fraught
Fire and gravel which yoke the passing chariot
Movement checked by muse, vicious
God’s brigade only governed those plains
Some like it hot and sullen
Crisised bardo
The best seats in an eschaton
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Fools nudge
And fall into a world shaped box
Where middle edges, locked in step
Articulate the hell of two rivers, consummate
For our communal waters
Do not sweep fate equally
Instead gold hammered
Giant forests deep
Pulling tissues of breath
Twilight cyphers
The last of revelry
Bound by magic
Thankfully the sun mourns the night
So that we may reconcile our injustice
Frawns fan at your reach
Wetted yawn
Silk printed with ink
Deep hymns sing
Sunny yarrow babies
Asserting everything that exists
Our body of wisdom
Prodigals of religion
Ride an incorruptible diamond vehicle
And left handed Masters of bones
Writhe circles in dissent
Massacaring moments
At odds with a depth of standing
Their forms confused
A begging mind
Owes what to faltered eyes
I see you broke the days by counting
Strung upon death’s cause
We speak significantly rich
Mother seeds surrender
Principles peculiar
Malice and mischief
Cardinal with religion
Irised bardo props
Do you prefer the glimmering room in hell
New and under the sun
Golden ambrosial immortality
Or jade hung in the seas midst
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Before the fall
At the copper etched Gate
A holy, dirt shaped password
Mimicked the keys
Where you severed fingers to chance
Representatives to a far fragmented spirit
Concealed stolen souls
Breathe loose
Still hot with sacrifice
The slow, calamitous waters bear
Liberation, exiled from reduction
A reminder we fell from tangles
Eyelids beneath moonrock
To pitch, to burn
And wander into the scrub
Aim of the sky’s fire
Inlay the phosphorescent void
Under a band of dusty prophets
Dawn reclines
And our repose dissolves
Into tongues of fire
The laughing gods
Wed divine play of hands
Gaze thickens
For what are the first fruits of imagination
But professional secrets where
Time disowned our hours
An imperfect sympathy
Redeeming seeds
In a clumsy illumination
On the bodies of resurrection
Created for defeat
We carry our own death
East of Eros
Could our love sin
I’ll rest my heart
In your sun
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Sunrise no berries
Sunset no oranges
The old forests, heavy with silence
Their buds forgot you went home
Speaking hush
Flaunting wit to fend
Letters cannot refute on their own
But organize by attrition
Denial to awe and article
Born white of the world’s blood
Perpetuating dosing, dripping
Fretting sweat begged no less
But a chewy hum
That spills and sings
Give me tragedy as an excuse to fall
Only take what’s bound for destruction
I’ll eat the scrolls
Of labor anguished
And empty our vessels to sea
Wrought with cracks anyway
Make believe bends from breaks
How likely is it that virgins inspire rage
In bricks, the seems
The teaming of lost wings
Clay molded to rings
Stuck with wrought and friction
Vows still atone in the festival of trees
The heavens quaked in decision
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Seeders of dreams
Cursed to consume dust
In strokes with the dead
Time emits
And lights the facet we deemed truth
The book of judgement turns a page
With its list of realms and holy fruits and spirits
49 gates of misunderstanding
Atop purple mountains
That kick at the sky
A dowry of spiny ridges
Recollected as indefinable sharpness
Elected observer
Imprisoned by name
God can only search for himself
Perambulating voice
Desire drowned with the ability to see
But the waves continue to toss patience
An eternal chasing of carrots
Animatic our erratic angels
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Although I lay stones at your feet
I am not a tomb
But a distilled, honeyed weight
Resting on wings
Where things go for losing
My elementary pliable lies
Marooned drama threatened the blood
Which delineates truth
And the self ripples incandescently
Between wind battered nodes
If we are as gods
How could torment be avoided
But a weary death on a causal sea
The playground maelstrom collapses
Into a dust of spheres
The glue the sears the sticky relations
Only then will the Aions of our time present
Air of fixed stars
Which fire the mind
Tears the summit from it’s roots
The terror melts to war and
Halts only in site of sacred walls
The hiatus between vertiginous wells
Teeming spirals drip
Into sun flooded oceans of entropy
Limits deaths’ access
No illusory agency here
Contractual ink poked a novel code
Did you mean to sign up for these long limbed inquiries
Wood grained secrets
Why presume the barks holds proclamation when terrorized so
It’s guise bears the right to snap
And destroy every emblem of you
Symbol system makers already confused our map with relief
I’ll unwind the peel
If you’ll agree to gather the slack
To untangle the absurd
The stoned web dropped
Situated wallowing in instrumentation
Reaffirms our demise
Expectations of spirits in kaleidoscope tipped mirrors surely inherit the dissolution
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To yearn for seed
Rulers of blood in marigolds
Whether potted or sown
A reminder that once something existed in this place
While the degraded mysticism of stone
Grows impatient with the cosmos
And God is emptied of matter
The substance in symbol
A battle held in Earth’s immense alter
Provoking permissibility and unorganized for bias
The Kingdom come with us
Still covered in scales
That stick in the gallows remains the same crux of sacrifice
But what is saved - by what and for whom
When nothing is hidden
I’ll continue to carry your kiss
The golden deer trampled dust of lilacs
Settling amongst the people of flowers
Petals wilted at their reception
This ego won’t be granted the audience of schism and heresies
Grievances now only to be shared with ghosts
A crocus bed, abstracted pools of lovers
Use the same materials
To construct palaces, build tombs
Lessons of defeat in your baby teeth
As formal morality devours
Virtue is not attuned through innocence
This shining city of light can only be built atop ruins
When the boiling, blazing light be calmed
She’ll gather herself of the grasses onto the moon
Will the revolution spare their hearts
Or conquer their feet
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A jar of speech
The privilege to curse and be cursed
Nailed at the sky
An abstracted kiss, suffering grace
Who can undo the fool
But the seekers of the sun
Barefoot logic of sages
Their rebel mouths, alone of time
Hubris, high on progress
The ramparts of the world
Remain chained to a pillar
Refusing to ask forgiveness
So we’ll pick and poke and prod at the material
To uncover a bit of refuse, some resistance
Agent of a piece of Heaven, obligating awe
How do you mean to cast your reflection
When the pendulum has no mind to receive your magic
Cast out from a spattering of lightning
The fore edge stepped waterless pools holding rice
Tiny granules, valence undetermined
As they turn circles at the patterns laid
Falling out of orbit
No matter our natural tendance to oscillate, to shake
Windmill giants trick and transcend the senses
Their lyricism tips the suspension of boredom
Creating subjects fit for laughter
The radiance that dripped between lips
Pooled at the throat and gnawed from chest
Churning a chasm
If we deny the responsibility of God
The stars’ ego emerges into the desert
Memories destroyed with rationality debases the Prince of the Mind
Although stricken with arousal by absurdity
Artifice of make believe
Is this not an impulse of sincerity
Or the illustrated weariness of a mechanical god
Carried by a misremembered apologue
We possess ourselves
And underneath the sword we shine brighter
The dandy castles with their big articulations
Reject the earth and it’s limitations
Centuries of pepper trees
Tearing garments
A city covered planet which eats itself
Emerald heart of throws and fits
Never fall for less than the only immortal note of Love
But know it’s worth more to me than that
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Under Heaven’s valance
Does the Dove’s downiness mimic a dusty, spectacular arrangement of leaves
And a Raven echo back the romantics’ display of absurdity
Petals wilted at repetition
A frenzied dual arises
Volatile stillness of neglect, wrought with potential
And do the ascetics refrain from a silence so piercing the anchor falters
Benevolence in the edible relationship with angels
Their wings, a vehicle of tiny gods
Tiny palms of hand
When their feet hit the earth, the seat of devouring giants
An equal and opposite response, obligatory in nature
Was not offered due time to coalesce
The rare game refuses association with fine feathers
Runs riot, dying to the imagination
Drowned in the hollow of a cinnamon rest
A dance until death
Musings which arise from your inside voice
Alenely buried
In an open field
Where enumerated by the sun, wild grasses beckon upwards
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The waters drew me in
With professional secrets
A mess of pounded stones gasped underwater
Anchoritic and irresistible
The arrow that destroys the universe
Will you take shelter when I cry
But these gems are not to be met with surrender
So I will sing upon your back
To play in paradise
Until my fingers are no longer beneath your back
Kisses quit your eyes
Your tongue leaves my sheets
Essences eluded by the windows spilling daylight
A heart held in contempt
Lent a second face to drape the spiritual landscape
A wind shook ache like magic
With our vision’s eponymous of love
The ornamental introduces moaning divergence
But a constellation of tension holds together the sun and moon
Just as the heavens yearn for the pit of abyss
Gnawed from hell
We can’t take people where we’ve never gone
Why did you come here if not to play with fire
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I offer you the blessing of strength
A strawberry brick at the base of my spine
I, princess of mountains
You, lord of stones
When you fell into your broken pot
Displacing the gravelly sinew
Traced ether
But swallowed by bound consumption instead
As if by lengths of steel
The moon
A bed I don’t have to make
You keep splashing in shallows
I’ll bathe in an acoustic river
There’s a person in those waters
And she’s divine
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He’s in over his head
12 tribes, 9 gems
Eyes pronounced for Self
Conquest of a blazing psyche
Cerement which shines
Without exhibition
My weapon, presence
Journey, discernment
Amongst heaven and others
A lost treasure
Yoking a cloud of virtue
Holds the currency of consciousness
An interval on the causal plane
Shrouded sacrifice, solely for rest and love
Reign
Elevate in austerity
Illustrious relic
To ornament the wounds
Slacken the bondage and know thy channels
Relinquish mastery of the air
Otherwise those gods will never come to you
With invitations aloft
To 12 tribes, with 9 gems
Dissolved in the throat of wisdom
Soma arises from the action
Rewarded in
Impressions of fingerprints
Left on every stoop
As if there was ever egoic volition
In the eternal seat of
Pleasure and war
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Whispered awe
A pile of ash
Your crown of vines, heavy
Gravity forged in the fire of grief
Leaden as the sea
When you’ve had your fill
Of those sleepy corners
Search for one’s own dirt
Just above your tired lotus feet
Shoved below an openness of sky
Under the noose
Of a catatonic crash into the moon
I promise death before succession
Untie your hair, a hardened heart
Does the skin of the fruit remain fuzzy
Or has the pattern been peeled away
Let the cities return
Devout with forests, treated by sap
Barren of defilement
Refined by dust mixed with howl
Armor of the goddess in those rains
I only fear with the inability to touch
God, atop story of the edifice
Bubbling up from the lion’s pool of
Curiosity
A sharp sword
Precise but playful
The jest of false perceptions
Arrested by allegorical powers
To transform materiality
Should light not bounce from your eyes
Should an apple seed not turn to glass
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In the office of proclamation sits a red bird
Singing a song of a request
For isolation
Penance imposed by swerve
A disingenuous, disastrous return
Coming evicted
Wrought with vines and shivers and chills
Bumps which prelude illusion
For now I can distinguish between
That which is for me
And that which is of me
Of the labor I laid at the alter
An offering
Crystalline drippings
A mirror with a thousand broken shards
Each bisecting and prematurely altering the trajectory
A tragedy
That we cannot illicit immunity from the thorns
Rather than rush in, remain hung
The berth that held your rest
Obstacle in nature, punctuating
The offensively faded patina
Beingness which implies the biological
Interpretation of a spleen
But also ambiguity of a body
Built solemnly for sorrow
The obtuse denomlization appeared with
An unarticulated, misdirected cleansing
For what must those shells by scrubbed
Removing the muck from their mass
But violence, suspended
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You’ve lain down your lance
In hopes it makes you strong
But those sweet pleasures
Can tire the senses
The blind then leads the blind
Invisibility as substance
Listless, persistent shards
The peace obtained upon unclenching
The jaws of rebirth
Desire – unborn, imperishable, eternal
To burn and reveal
The sulliness of shadows
Which defile the erotic
What when the King of Death
Is not home when you arrive