Wednesday, August 5, 2009

I have her bottled in my senses.

I feel the grain of her smell upon my skin.

Each thought burns with the essence of five

Enriched moments beyond,

Beyond the moment of Recall,

Recalling the moment of Seduction.

With each breath I devour the memory,

Tasting the freedom of her charm.


Yesterday’s soap,

Today’s embrace,

Tomorrow’s Vision of Harmony.

Each moment deepens in time with my breath,

Each pore releases the power of Seduction. For me

To fall at her feet in adoration,

For her tainted skin,

For her stained aroma,

In the wake of her scent,

Through the trail of her perfume.


I sense her pulsating veins

Of wisdom and truth,

Of honour and quest,

Of why and how

We never met.

The Full Circle

The Full Circle


Through eternity

Leaving one limb exposed to the sun

Burned by it’s rays of reason

Dried by it’s words of wisdom.

There is no passion that can

Cure the thoughts of disdain

Felt and endured

Til my glance is no longer lifted

In curious envy

By the visible

Life of others.

I feel rhythm,

I feel peace,

I feel voice

Of experience

Roll it’s power over my senses

And seduce me again

With belief.

Of me.

Of my peace.

Of my solitude.

As government begins to auction

We sell our soul for a third of it’s true value.

The 28 billion will only half cover the debts

We have incurred over years of human existence.

To own treasuries makes no sense

When the most precious asset we have is our belief

In the self

In the Universe

In the balance of the two.

Earnings that continue to feed the mouths

Of greed

Of religion

Of war

Will only draw us closer to the worst poverty of all.

The poverty of thought

The poverty of opportunity

The poverty of creation.

The population of underdeveloped man

Has no relation to the place of settlement,

But all to do with the state of maturity

Of mind

Of body

Of soul.

In this time of instability

Let us not feed on stocks and shares

Let us not feed on dollars and dow

Let us not feed on the decline of trade,

But instead


Without shame

From the dept we owe

To ourselves.




Through creativity

Must reign,

As king

And his court

As Queen

And her chambers,

To govern



This volatile land

Laced in oil

We call his soul.

Monday, August 3, 2009