invisible strings

from the child's imagination

woven in the aire

pulled up

pulled there

out of disposable

she braided

her own cosmic hair

she is not going away

she is always

here

invisible strings

their own

vibrations

arcane voyage

“And suddenly you know: 

It's time to start something new and trust the magic of beginnings.” 

― Meister Eckhart

"The more powerful and original a mind, 

the more it will incline towards the religion of solitude."

Aldous Huxley

“She didn't belong anywhere and she never really belonged to anyone. And everyone else belonged somewhere and to someone. People thought she was too mysterious..But she only wanted to belong to someone...to give love to someone....

― C. JoyBell C.

Arcane Voyage

her cloak of speckled darkness

 might have been a night sky

 of vacant stars

the sounds silent inaudible

brushed against the skin 

left purple stains of pluto's heart

there need be no reasons

nor sense to selection if any

just that she suddenly exists

as if from out of ocean mists

caught betwixt worlds 

disregarded she did not dissipate

gems of the old shattered across her cheeks

fell upon her arms like the tears she leaked

ancients bespoke in languages long gone

the burden she must carry when she did come along

from where to there to here out of nowhere

into somewhere far out there 

she makes no sense without the cup of mysterious nectar

chaos contracts then expands only to contract again

she holds in her third eye the wisdom of a universe

so many humans tried to deny

her sails easily could have been

the nightwind from Venus

but for the kiss that was like rings

associated with Saturn 

the purple some say gave her away

"Return her" cried dwarfed Pluto

The cosmos all sang out one day

sirens unknown 

which beginning shall she embrace 

as each day goes unmeasured

 by more than several suns

her eyes now deeper than the vacancy 

left by your words that once stung

mistaken as nothing

tossed disposable 

she carries on

undaunted by 

the present company

she drifts again 

on the sea of space

but first for this moment

let me blow one more kiss

to you

she whispered in the voice

of a soul filled with collected hearts

some of those hearts yours

alcoholic anger

claiming dry for years

righteously pious

laced with working robes

all visions illusions

sadly it was the anger

as it portrayed itself

in behaviors and words

that gave away

the alcoholic

harm done unto others denied

no 12 step for that guy

blame the victim

for the alcoholic rage

pathetic

sad for that man's inner pain

jump

exposure

the thin skin of a soap bubble
blasted out into the elements
does it have a chance to survive


when the skin is popped
is all that was inside
dumped out lost


~ slowly gathering up pieces that are now mixed in with other's cut grass ~

loquacious

Loquacious

There are an awfully lot of people
who just talk rapid fire nonstop
when the person listening
finally tries to talk
they interrupt ad nauseum
as if by interrupting
the other person
will not have any thoughts
of their own
thus having to take on
the loquacious person's thoughts
NOT



(I hate myself when I slip into that part of the human experience ~ )

colorless nothing

unable to describe

what is nothing

has no color

lacks any personality

has no thoughts of its own

does not blend

but thinks it fits in

such a useless

wasted life

trifling

as if there were any importance

they spoke rapidly

from both corners of their mouths

which did not make it

any more true