Feeding time

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Never judge what has been done or what we may do
Just feed the animals and be prepared to get fed too
Because you can never be too sure of which side of the bars your on
In these little trips to the zoo

Presence of Mind

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It tried to leave me,
but can the liver leave its heart behind?
it looked in the mirror,
used its two eyes to see me,
what looked back was a good man,
with a smile so kind
Made peace with it all
and am so happy to be me
embracing the lovely
That is my being combined.
Writing the story thoughtfully
of man and god, intertwined

The Snowflake

Snowflake
Time after time
The ether is my home
It is vast and formless
My dwelling is the wide open spaces that exist between nucleus and electrons.
My actions are those that give shape to the boundless.
Color and run down these walls
Building the castle of our experience
Playing house to the psyche
Cheffing up the healthy meal that is our sustenance
Eat with me.
Share the nutritious handshake that grows your hair and sculpts your muscles
Use this energy to play the game of life and produce the epic known as love to polish off this great work.
Hold my hand and put this effort to rest as we sharpen our instruments and prepare to cut infinity into a billion,
billion snowflakes that blanket the perceivable world in a beauty so unique,
that this moment will never exist this precisely perfect again.
The chaos has no choice but to give way, it will hold its current incarnation
just a moment before spinning into a brand new snow storm cold, powerful, and matchless in its infinite splendor

Journey to the New AGE

Sri Yantra

Some use the old adage others are hampered by a blockage

still more complain of the contest’s early stoppage.

It used to be about all types of suffrage

or the top quality of your package

but thankfully that unique carnage

has given way to a growing spiritual assemblage.

The great advantage of our marriage to each other

and our growing courage

is releasing us from bondage, giving us strength as the right arm

or should I say appendage

of a collective that is our right and our secret heritage.

This is not the hopeless wreckage.

It is the total package

waiting for you and I to manage our miscarriage

and unpack our baggage.

What waits for us? Only limitless advantage

and the demise of outrage as we celebrate a brand new image,

and the obsolescence of preface as we engage in this great and complex voyage

that will lead us to love and ultimately safe passage into the new frontier of a

perfect AGE

The Archer

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Arrows fly as do accusations.
Spirits soar to meet expectations
Fingers no longer point
Because the archer’s aim was true.

A collective gasp is heard
And panic ensues
Hard to walk across these floors
Because they’re littered with the corpses of dinosaurs
With arrows protruding from their eyes.

Tripping the antiques that don’t share in the indigo hues
that the elevator brought down to change the faces of the bright red blues.

Was all this murder necessary just so we could recognize peace?
It seems so,
It bleeds so ,
As it continues to bring us to our knees.

One day we’ll get back on our feet,
Find a new color to anoint
Something that deciphers these words for their reader
But for now we will have to adhere to the glorious wisdom of our money,  politicians, and so-called religious leaders.