Flourite Fantasy

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Cradled in the ample bust of our Earth Mother

Gently settled in for a peaceful nights dreaming

Bathed in the heavenly glow of a selenite moon

Energetically protected by a silver lights gleaming

 

Violet branches perfectly wrapped with twisting gnarls

Roots under lavender keep him docile and grounded

Tranquil azure waters cascading amongst his shadows

Delivering ideas to fruition in a dreamscape unbounded

 

Negativity deflected by a protective Persian green sky

So that Spring may flourish within his heart of hearts

A pleasant calming sense of concentrated direction

Rainbows end is assuredly where his journey starts

MIA

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Gone missing once again from the safety of the written word

Ripped away from the comfort of the blanket of others creativity

Time will only tell how long I will struggle through the dark night

Without these moments of satisfaction provided by artistic light

 

It seems the harsh realities of this monotonous daily existence

Have stolen me away from the protection on my beloved words

Tick tock, tick tock, as the clock on the wall so torturously taunts

I have no time to seek shelter in the shadows of my favorite haunts

 

I shall return to roam the jungle I rule over with strength and pride

Once the dust has settled and the air is again safe to deeply inhale

Bringing the familiar swagger of an artistic view back to the pages

Hopefully showing signs of my influences from fools and from sages

 

Fear not where I have gone or what fate has overtaken my soul

I cannot stay away from the forest of my imagination for any length

When I reenter the shadows of my imagination once again to endure

You will see and feel the strength of my love for words remains pure

Alter Ego

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Welcome home my friend

A return of the prodigal son

To heighten my inner senses

While lifting up my lowly spirit

Come inside and tell your tale

Of the trials you have endured

 

Regale me with the fascinations

That have kept you away so long

I have waited ever so patiently

For some significance to reappear

In the form of identical likeness

Vastly different from it’s twin

 

You see, while I remained quietly behind

Not so much has been through change

It will be so very different once again

Now that you have returned to my side

To see me through the blinding night

Keeping me from under freezing sun

 

You always were my saving grace

Giving me warmth within my shadows

Stoking fires of inspirational awareness

While keeping the beasts of boredom at bay

So welcome back to your rightful place

My tried and true, trusted friend

 

My Imagination…..My alter ego

Fingerprint

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Adrift on an endless river of blissful individuality

Me, myself and I are unique and without plurality

Unique and singular in every way, shape and form

My thoughts and ideas falling far outside the norm

 

To know me is to love me, thankfully I am one of a kind

Others shake their heads at the things that cross my mind

I walk a much different path than those who step so light

Marching loudly to a different drum, deep into the night

 

For this I am not apologetic and will never, ever change

The things I find amusing, well, others just find strange

I see myself a warrior and have seen my share of battle

Better to be a solitary soldier than another of the cattle

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bloody Mary

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  She can hear her friends giggling and joking outside the bathroom door. Teenagers can be so cruel. Even to their closest friends it seems. She stands in front of the mirror in pitch black darkness. Now locked in the tiny washroom she is beginning to regret saying she didn’t believe. Taking this stupid dare now seems like a mistake. Best to just get it done with and move on. The sooner she does this the sooner she will be able to continue drinking and carousing with her friends. Directly in front of the mirror she stands, barely able to make out her figure in the dark moonless night. She leans close to the mirror, and with false bravado speaks clearly.

 

                                           “Bloody Mary”

 

  A large howl erupts piercing the air as the strong wind pushes through the trees outside the little window. Startled, she  jumps back a step and her heart races at the sudden noise. She chuckles under her breath and shakes her head. “Chicken shit”. Her eyes start to adjust to the darkness all around. Her Imagination casts shadows on the wall behind her as she starts to feel the cold chill of terror. Again she leans into her reflection and she hears the words leave her lips.

 

                                            “Bloody Mary”

 

  This time the words come out much less confidently and with a slight tremble in her voice. Her friends still lurking near the door goading and taunting. The hair stands up on the back of her neck and every inch of flesh on her body raises in goose bumps.  Is it her imagination or did it really get that much colder in this small room? She truly believes that there is nothing to fear, yet with each passing moment her anxiety increases. Every tiny noise is amplified as she is overtaken by fright. Phantom shadows dance on the wall and in her mind as she draws deep from the well of her own courage. She shuts her eyes tight as a single tear runs down her cheek and with a catch in her throat and shaky articulation she softly whispers

 

                                             “Bloody Mary”

 

  The young girl opens her eyes wide and waits. Watching the mirror intently for this vengeful apparition to appear. Nothing… Absolute silence. Even the wind outside the window has died. Her tension begins to lift as a smile brings color back to her face. She will be the one laughing now. She turns to leave the bathroom thinking only of how she will tease and chastise her friends over more strong drink and general teenage mayhem. She swings open the door forcefully to loudly begin her onslaught of verbal revenge.

   In a split second of recognition everything changed forever. This poor girl’s screams could be heard three blocks away as tragedy worse than any nightmare was now reality before her very eyes. Her three very best friends on the planet lay scattered about on the floor in a sea of scarlet. Throats ripped wide open, and midsections dreadfully disemboweled. Even worse than all this was their eyes. Three sets of eyes still wide open and holding within them an expression of fear beyond any human comprehension.

  This gruesome scene discovered by parents the following morning. The poor girl was found blood soaked and curled up in a fetal position on the floor in the middle of her lifeless friends corpses. Arms around her knees, and eyes unblinking, she rocked slowly back and forth muttering the same three words again and again. “She is real…..she is real…..she is real…..she is……”

 

                                      “Bloody Mary” Exists.

Ode to a Sinner

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She is the epitome of sexuality and desire

enshrouded in a veil of erotic debauchery.

Capturing the imagination and ensnaring the weak of flesh.

Seemingly unknowing the power she holds,

yet secretly aware of the control she wields.

She follows or leads with a vigor and enthusiasm unmatched

while bringing her own deviant twists into a most energetic reality.

Dripping with SIN she will eagerly quench your lustful thirst

while leaving your head spun and yearning for more

She is a subtle drug bottled in an addictive silken carafe.

Amazing at first glance but even more intoxicating to the initial touch.

She is an experience not to be passed over

but to be fully prepared for and immensely enjoyed.

She has the ability to captivate your mind and steal your sexual soul.

She has a given name, although I call her only My Sweetest Sinner.

A wicked act by any other name… she would still SIN as SWEET!!

What we have become…..

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  Anger, resentment, frustration, and an overwhelming sense of futility. These emotions cannot be denied in my present reality. However, I am most assuredly not alone in my plight. This sentiment is made abundantly clear  to me by the emphatic voices of my peers and colleagues.  Friends and foes alike cry out at the injustices being served by the ruthless perpetuity that defines the corporate machine.

  We have been reduced to nothing more than numbers. Barcodes to be more precise. To the ones who control the things that affect us most we are really nothing more than a series of seemingly random lines varying in thickness representing some impersonal numerical code. The human factor no longer exists when things are examined from this perspective. We are not even a tiny spoke in the great big wheel, but rather miniscule grains of sand being driven further into the ground as that wheel of progress rolls onward, and the giant known as greed uses the working class as stepping stones in its quest for MORE.

  Our triumphs go remarkably unnoticed while the smallest errors get brought into pinpoint focus. The only true success now is to remain invisible, because to be noticed surely means you have been found lacking.  Each day the microscope under which we are observed gets more powerful and our flaws become more evident while our true value goes tragically undetected. 

  It is because of all this that I call out my plea to any and all who are fortunate enough to be living out a dream as a means of making ends meet in this brutal day to day existence. For if you truly enjoy what you do as a means of survival than I must applaud you with both admiration and a tinge of jealousy. I wish nothing more than to wake with a smile and eagerly anticipate what the day holds in store for me. So if you find my dream your reality, you must promise me this…..  That you will never become complacent or take for granted the good fortune you hold. Smile and remember those less fortunate. Not just remember, but make a promise to yourself to NEVER FORGET.                

FOUR

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  First came the RAINS….Steadily pouring for what seemed like an  eternity. Winds blew strong and  hard from  every direction bringing with it sharp whistles and crude  whispers of the events that were going to transpire. Deaf to the warnings  being brought forth by the ceaseless storm, The worlds population  remained oblivious to the imminent destruction about to be wrought on a  home so taken for granted.

  It came from the EAST. starting as a very low rumble, as  steady and unrelenting as the rain, and continuing for forty  days and forty nights. The rumble became louder and more  persistent as the days and nights passed. Soon what began as a low  undecipherable rumble became this Thunderous roar which was being spoken of by many, but  understood by none. With each passing day it became clear  that the rumble was unmistakably the sound of charging horses. Galloping steadily  and with great haste toward the unsuspecting masses.

   The sound being put  forth by the oncoming charge was that of SIXTEEN  hooves pushing onward through  the driving rain, while simultaneously setting fire to the earth with each forceful stride.  Flames rose high behind them, impervious to the sheets of rain falling from the  sky. Sixteen hooves, driving  four thundering steeds. Atop each sinewy mount rode a familiar  horseman. First mentioned in the  BIBLE, the horsemen were that of Conquest, War, Famine, and  DEATH……….For they were the four horsemen of the apocalypse and their journey will bring certain doom to all mankind.

  Riding single file they  take their positions in an ominous line of swift efficient  punishment.First is Conquest, riding a white horse and wielding a bow, bringing all to their knees with ease and force. Second comes a red steed ridden by the  horseman swinging the sword of War, followed by a black horse and a rider holding scales as if to  measure the weight of atrocities committed and balance them with punishment due.  This is the horseman of Famine bringing hunger and desperation to the war torn land. And  last…. riding a pale horse and clutching a scythe, the horseman of DEATH brings plagues and disease to the last of the human race before  collecting their souls for the final RECKONING.

  With the day of final  judgement complete, the souls of all mankind  have been taken for the last appraisal. As the world washes away and burns to ash simultaneously, the FOUR take  their swift departure to the west, leaving only destruction and ghostly whispers of distant memories. Memories of a once thriving population. One not so bent on self destruction and utter disregard for their surroundings.

  What could bring such a horrific demise to  an entire planet rich with  resource and bountiful in its raw beauty? Most certainly the catalyst for the  swift destruction of all the worlds people  was the never ending Greed. Greed for wealth…Greed for power…..Greed for  higher status both in politics and in  religion…..And finally the ultimate reason for Apocalyptic Doom? The  irreversible damage being done to the Exquisite home bestowed upon us by the Creator of all that is good and kind. WHOMEVER that shall be. For the anger caused by  the reckless destruction of such a beautiful gift, was undoubtedly what brought  the “Quartet of  DELIVERANCE” charging  through the land……