Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

December’s Bridge

Am I a lie in this etched parallel?
They say what is most disliked,
Remains most true
Are words just a crease of what define’s my reality?

Wrap a hamsa around my eyes
Push the shutter
Stare into that ray of light
Behold the trident
Draw the salt lines
Round and round this dance is for the prong of my shadow

In the separation
In the alcoves, held out way too long
For both sides, a bridge is the reciprocated middle way
Share within the light, share within the darkness
I won’t be disillusioned
My soul already encompasses both

Art: Rikke Ryge

“In freedom, the thoughts of people were consumed with hate, and when living in hatred their thoughts were consumed with freedom.”

https://kabbalah.com/en/concepts/the-nature-of-evil

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Earthly voids & Spiritual quest

Gate Rei

You weave me into your mouth.
Unfold your mountain, to record my memories.
Hardwire my pain to your ears.
Stream into me, if you try, you will find;
I’m a thunder-cry.
I’m psychic in colours.
Flowing like coral, that roots to bone-ash truths, that carry skull eyed wide at rest.
For longevity is not a metal.
As skin is made from clay;
The soul, made before space-age.
And inner eye, they tried to calcify,
Wants to spin out on chakras.
To be uncaged, crowned in the higher.
Take my hand, to soar into attunement.

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Collaborative poems

Golden Fragments

 A collaboration with

     Havoc and Consequence    

 

Measuring out my apathy, sieving out the soul.
Reduced.
My senses in a state of flux, spinning off into the unknown.
This world had trapped me for so long.
Kept hidden under the bed of existence.
Blocking out the light.
The wheat fields of my mind looked for the grains.
Tiny fragments that seeped in when all was dark.
Each one a world of its own, taking seed within my soul.
And now I shake, I quiver into the unknown; yet so familiar.

      Wiping gems and the precious truths on my eyes and heart.
Feeling an inward rush of an amber glow, preceding this labored love.
For fear of only gleaning, a break in my skin.
I call upon Ceres deep within me.
She sends me slumbering with the sparkling antidote of hope.
Until the bountiful golden harvest rises from my old soul.
Creeping the vines up my chalky spine to my crown.
Tin foil turned in the alchemy of tears, to forever shine in gold.

 

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Jay Poem 1., Jay Poem 8.

Jay Icarus

He was like Icarus.                             He was my Aurora.

I tried to pin him down,                   Into a butterfly collection.             Make him a wish, as white as the night.                                                          A notion, as blue as the yew.

He only settles in memory,             Of an antique mind;                        Full of lifelong longing.

His vanishiment, to a new light spectrum.                                      Where feelings are not               Pangs of pain,                                  Only continuate bliss.               Where he remembers my name, Not the taken.

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