“You scream, therefore I am.” ~ drexel
I wanna forget every day just to start each day in the moment I first saw you and fell in love. ~ drexel
I really want to love you. ~ drexel
Murderers mingle merrily migrating en-mass to muster multiple members mostly mysterious men minus mature mustaches merged into minor modules while the more mannered from monolithic monasteries are melded. Meandering males are motivated to maintain mobility mainly by mottled movements and mishap. Masters mingled within the menagerie monitor monstrous moments and maneuver motors of mischief ‘neath moshes of madams and monsieur s whose moist mixture massively maddens most Minotaurs. A sheer mouthful to mention. ~ drexel
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Of my complaint 27July16
Is this to be my discomfort?
…My lifetime friend?
I’ve coddled so many in my time I almost began to think I’d satisfied my quota.
Life has a way of turning things inside out just when it lets you relax your guard.
That’s not a light at the end of the tunnel, no it’s a train headed right at you.
Artists suffer. It’s like its part of the creative nature.
The price paid for being in such close proximity to the essence of existence.
Mose’s face reflected so much he wore a veil and even he was hobbled by his humanity.
So we mortals that cling to the worldly all while professing our righteousness are chained to illness, disease, physical and mental handicaps and conditions should be no surprise.
While an artist, lo a writer or worse yet a poet courting death pursuing enlightenment in a close dance with the evils and goodness should not expect discomfort but expect, no look forward to it.
Alas, it’s done. I’ve done all that I did. I am what you read, what you see.
Forgive me. I have not been a good steward of your blessings.
Incinerate this body when it fails me.
Don’t parade it in repose or dressed gaily with powered face, rosy cheeks.
No fire it to ash til lifted by the winds disperse into the open air.
I’m finished. I am complete. I’ve accomplished what I have.
I’ve finished these impossible Herculean tasks lain across my shoulders, borne the weight of my cross to arrive at my Golgotha
Sad Golgotha of useless dust and sand,
Miserable of bathing sun, useless moons, bereft of human souls only the desperate seeking to drift into mindless eternity.
So is my last place.
Rather to feed the flame til the flesh crackles into the essence it sprang from minus the divine breath.
I am finished and have no defense for my stewardship or providence.
I am as you see me now,
a solemn study in the absurdity of happiness, the pursue of happiness, …love.
No flash this carcasses til it crackles.
I am done and await Virgil’s companionship.
His is what I crave staring into the cave,
the next whatever.
I cannot summon enough spirit to care however the mystery excites me beyond this light.
I’m drawn to its damp peerless night. It comforts me.
Stoke the brazier higher, hotter.
Let no morsel escape its appetite.
I’m finished with this opera.
It reeks of freshness, purity and hope.
Doves flutter about as if some virgin beckons.
I wretch at the thought rathering instead my beloved ravens plucking the sinew from brave warriors and the cowardly. ~ drexel
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it all takes away from our humanity.
it lessens us as a civilization, a nation and exposes us as a hypocrite to the world.
how can we extend a hand in solidarity to others if we cannot do the same within our borders, states, cities, communities or even our homes and families.
this…this infection rips into the very sacrifice of our uniformed brethren defending what has become more than just a house divided or at war with itself but one seemingly set on self destruction fed by sulfur tinged flames of a phobic filled base hatred.
it undermines the foundations of civil society, a so-called enlightened people.
“I will put my law in their minds and write it on their hearts.” (Jeremiah NIV 31:33). But they have closed their eyes and shut up their hearts. They have become blind and numb to My Love having fully embraced the temporal world.
that one is valued so much less,
that another is deemed so much more
when both are men of the same woman.
vigilante justice in any form or color.
so many Mothers are burying Sons,
Wives Husbands and Children Fathers.
For they have lain with that scarlet whore and now reek of her. Madness has control of them as each has been convinced of a manufactured belief that he has been selected her champion. A misguided campaign.
a caged dog has more protections those slain,
hollow outcry from capital steps from those seeking opportunity perhaps even supporters of the violence.
self defined inherent and
unbounded inalienable rights
abandonment of life and liberty.
A people cannot be made great by resurrecting arcane practices no matter how many coats of paint is applied. Not the one sided days of old but the bright days of tomorrow prophesied by our forefathers, religion and taught as children. No we are great as a result of our inclusiveness, genuine fellowship and love for one another as I attest to it scribed upon my tattered heart.
to squander so many undeserved blessings redeemed in precious blood is unacceptable. ~ me