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Scito: Ama Et Aude Millia

It’s been over a decade on the run
yet how do I feel so much so soon.
To see those blues eyes in the Sun,
to taste your lips under the Moon.
Seeing me as I wish to be seen,
Outside of this flesh and bone.
What is reality—Life is dream,
Where your heart is my home.
Once a nightmare, now fantasy,
Both devils and angels living vicariously.

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Sandbox

Her stunning appearance gravitates everyone around.
Curves like living proof of no straight lines—
the Earth is round.
Untarnished hair flowing to the base of the spine.
Our eyes locking like lips; if we be alone I’d waste no time.
Pulling you close, I’ll show you the most.
Passion increasing—tongue down throat.
Taste your soul, feel your heart, curl your toes.
Close the blinds and keep it down so no one knows.
In this sandbox I can’t keep my hands off.
Sights & senses so pleasing to me
touched by another I feel jealousy.
Lips so ripe it only feels right,
to drink you in and make love all night.

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The Mourning Star

A fallen star
But from afar
Who are you? Who are we—
But cast from infinity?
Why fight
When from the light?
What is what in the dark,
All emanated from spark.
You and I can reconcile,
But consider the start.
All is one, one is all
Adam and Eve
Set the Fall.

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Sophia of the World

Knowledge is a true blessing,
For knowledge is given.
From the omniscious energy
Full of All that there is and is to become.
Knowledge cannot be personally attained.
Having common sense is not merely enough;
One must be lacking, yearning, seeking for completeness.
A young man may dwell on memories of better days,
Or contemplate on all there is and receive
an idea, transformed to action—Will.
A mouse may seek out his own food,
or he may realize he is being fed.

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The Center is All

Between this reality and the ones in minds eye, of which do I reside?
In the center of it all, is the All.
Chaos, harmony, ugliness and beauty.
Sirens, guns blaring, and wise words from Djehuti.
The police helicopter circles and the Dove sings overhead—
Serenity amidst disruption.
A boulder in a rushing river.
Life is motion, then it is stillness.

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Venus Rising

At times I feel her arise in me.
The divine feminine smirking with power.
A blackness so brilliant—
Like the sheen of a crow in the Sun.
The dark murky waters of creation is where she dwells.
Animate by her energy, I enter the quantum;
Where there is no state of becoming, rather, Absolution.
She is both life and death,
The guiding and tempting force of which I am present vessel.

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A Reflection of Heartache

Written Nov. 2012

At this point, we both know it’s over. Your room knows we’re over. Your chest of drawers know. Your walls hanging with pictures of us know. Your sheets suck in the scent of me, only to torture you while you sleep. As you lie there, your mind will unknowingly recognize my scent. And as you reach for me, you’ll awaken alone and cold. But for now, we’ll lay here and think of the emptiness that is to come.

It’s quiet now. You’ve just told me we won’t last. You lay your head on my chest. “I wonder if she can hear my heart breaking?” I imagine my heart as shifting tectonic plates. As my brain scrambles to recognize this feeling, it exclaims “Ah, heartache. We meet again.” My brain relays messages to my liver, kidney, colon, muscles, nervous system, and lungs of the coming storm. They then ready for the great purge of sorrow to come.

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The Pale Rider

Walking into to town the others see me coming.
They turn with askance at my rider who sways to and fro.
Head down to shun the sun with the brill of his cap.
Though I be the sober, he be the other.

Drinking water from my trough, he journey’s to the bar.
Avoiding the others at stools end.
Deep in contemplation he seems to be.
Not a glance up, nor the tip of a cup.

Back on the saddle he sways to meet the days end.
Leaving town they bid farewell and see his hollowed eyes.
Not knowing whither to he goes, or from whence he came.
We leave prompt all the same and he asks for no ones name.

I steer him here and there as if I know the way myself.
Wishing on the stars we meet our journey’s end on the moon itself.

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From Bitter Submergence, Loving Enlightenment.

This life it weighs on thee.
Bound to material,
the physical we endure combatively.
Earth-born all is ephemeral.

Ancient works uncovered,
only intensify a burden.
We are fallen angels unfeathered,
—of that I am certain.

Two into one, of three we be.
Yet unto one a return,
and of three they see.
Of transcendent planes we yearn.

Mortality the prescription,
sense perception an unawakened state.
Past loves I’m missin’-
dwelling on the things I hate.
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Of those from within,
and those of without.
Some just trying to win,
others filled with doubt.

On heavens light we pretend,
the end we cannot comprehend.
Seek and ye shall find,
an aeon not bound by time.