Tag Archives: poems

Fallen Angel

You might’ve fallen and almost given up. Yet, you didn’t. You held it down, and risen after every burial.

Facing the biggest challenges of your life. Looking at new obstacles with unforeseen sight. Unprepared and unknowing. Not ready, or not knowing..

Allowing what needs to be done. Allowing what wants to come.

Longing for divine. Longing for the sign.

Looking for comedy. Looking for philosophy.

Evolving from guidance. Evolving from science.

New flow to match the glow of your soul. New sight to compliment the height of your light.

Fallen, yet your wings continue to grow.

Differences

I don’t want to hurt for someone’s sins. Envy will start war between brothers. Gluttony will take food from others. Lust will have one looking at another. Sloth may have one hiding under a cover. Wrath would tempt a war between lovers. Greed turns the truth undercover. Pride turns the lie into wonder.

Why does it matter what anyone does in their time? Believe me, to each their own. Just as long as it’s not causing harm. What’s it to some people? How is it affecting them? How is your effect going to change people’s affections?

Different scenes with a million and one beliefs, and yet, we’re living in blind action. A disconnected unity of factions. Is that the attraction?

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Mixture of Dreams Part 21 (Mythology Edition)

The Giant was thirsty, and wanted a cup of knowledge. He thought to quench his thirst, with Deities to acknowledge. The Giant took a trip, into the wondrous world of Myths. Passion was on his mind, and he was starting from the top of Love’s list. The Giant found himself in a very enchanting realm, with joyous whelm. There was this extraordinary feeling, with colors so appealing.

The Giant walked into a warm tower, and was caught by surprise. An awe washed upon his face, of the beautiful figures he started to recognize. The Giant was in the presence of Goddesses, towering over his giant body. Five Goddesses of love, golden radiance of passion, they embodied. There was Oshun of the Orishas and Freya from Norse. Aphrodite from Greek and Hathor of Egyptian lores. In the middle sat Inanna of Sumer, who welcomed me with grace. They were all smiling, and offered some wine to taste. The Giant gladly accepted, while each Goddess told a story. He sat on the ground, blushing, excited to hear the divine auditory.

The Giant could stay here forever, though he realized it was time to go. Night was upon him, and his dreams were coming to flow. The Giant bowed, and bid the smiling Goddesses a farewell. How honored he was, being in this Utopian spell. The Giant, glowing, opened his eyes, and appeared in front of his bed. He climbed in, and soon, beautiful dreams filled his head.

Good night, and sweet dreams, you all. This Giant, hopes that warm passion fills the heart, while you stand tall.

Prank

The jokes on you, as I jump out from the side. This can be a scary time, make sure to check your behind. I may hide in the bushes, or dress like a scary snowman. Maybe I’ll gift a whoopee cushion, or dress like a haunted program.

I may put a sheet over my head, and run out with a “boo!” I may even put a creepy mask over my face, and stand like a statue.

Lake, a body of water, surrounded by land. Prank, a body of humor, surrounded by grins.

It’s the kid in me, never growing up, and having some fun. Maybe one day it’ll happen, but for now, you better speedup and rrrrrrunnn!

Ain’t No Mountain High Enough

Let’s talk about self-love. Is it wrong to love yourself? How much love are you able to reward your soul? When does it become narcissism? Am I narcissistic? Maybe a little, I suppose.

I find it relieving to finally be able to say, nowadays, that I love the man in the mirror. My reflection and my protection. I love my common name, I love my height, and I definitely love the skin I’m in! If hate is yang, then I am yin.

Life isn’t easy sometimes, but is it for anyone? Probably not. We all have our own gun. We all have our own battles. It’s a blessing when you find the path to release your shackles. Being held down by a mental prison, with the “kicker” being, it was created by an inner mission. To keep yourself from getting hurt. To divert. Though, the hurt in not living, only does a revert.

How does one live if one isn’t living? The joke that keeps giving. It’s a little tired now. See you later, joke – ciao! Ain’t no mountain high enough, to keep me from loving myself. Time to bid the colorful antipathy, a longing farewell.