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A poem without rhyme and prose without flow


Clarakore

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1 minute ago, Sherapy said:

This would make a great country song. 

It has a melody, but unfortunately, I don't know how to write music.

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On 7/26/2017 at 9:45 PM, Matterundermind said:

A giant star or cross says next to it: You are here.

All your prose and prophecy reposted here is speaking to me real time as if I need a map to help guide me in this darkest time of my life.

Psychogeographicpoetry.

Can you pass me or mistress Sheri a copy if done master Ham-in-law. Yet if another has more need send them when done. 

I see big hands reaching down.

And I smile as it is darkest before the dawn and I see the pink light signalling dawn.

 

 

Beautiful, you should have your own songs from porteguese.

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9 minutes ago, Hammerclaw said:

It has a melody, but unfortunately, I don't know how to write music.

Send it around, you are in the country music world. The other one is good too. It could be a song. 

Concilliation, I can hear Gwen Stefani on this one.

Edited by Sherapy
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Just now, Sherapy said:

Send it around, you are in the country music world. The other one is good too. It could be a song. 

'Twere it so easy. Everyone and their pet ferret writes songs down here. 

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1 minute ago, Hammerclaw said:

'Twere it so easy. Everyone and their pet ferret writes songs down here. 

But good is good. 

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Just now, Sherapy said:

But good is good. 

Thank you, daughter of my heart, but I have no sheet music and the current country trend is really lame rock'n'roll with a twang--and sometimes they leave that out.

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Just now, Hammerclaw said:

Thank you, daughter of my heart, but I have no sheet music and the current country trend is really lame rock'n'roll with a twang--and sometimes they leave that out.

Hmmm, maybe a door will open.

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Just now, Sherapy said:

Hmmm, maybe a door will open.

"Maybe a door will open." Nice start! Now write the rest of it. That's how most poems begin; an evocative line you build on.

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If a door should never open,

If at last, the heart should fail,

Withered of all emotion

Of a lost love's sad travail.

With the moon of autumn rising,

To quench the day's delight,

Will I see the sun yet shining,

In the pale-cool gloaming light?

I believe the stars were meant for,

Lovers lost in their sweet dream,

Sharing secrets of devotion,

With eyes where love-lights gleam.

Ever lost in contemplation

Of a future bright with joy.

Girded with love's dear elation,

Nothing ever will destroy.

So I'll await a door to open,

To the sunset of my heart,

By memory's surging river,

Until, at last, Earth I depart.

For the daughter of my heart.

 

Edited by Hammerclaw
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Choose Your Own Paradigm

Table of contents:

1. A Country and Urban State of Mind

The moder.urban vs rural divide is multiplied into bridges and paths that some call the Way instead of the world-and-reality-we-live-in.

2. Liars who read and write bibles with beliefs and commands that say "thall shout not"

A revisit with knowing positive-reinforcement is better than negative-reinforcement. And a visit into knowledge of reinforcement not required when chaotic neutrality leads to the ordering unity aka order from chaos.

3. Mindfulness meditation tells us to let the stream of thoughts and beliefs to slide through your mind without focusing on them as they will control you all the time

8 reasons to double your 4 directions and why we now live in a Wurmanian World and not an Orwellian 1984 world .

Because TED talks means technology, entertainment, and design and was started in 1984 by RS Wurman.

4. Hera and Cain's prophecy of system and collapse and the world ending, for some, not all, between September and October of 2017.

An ode to Hickory Dickory Dock and Mary Magdalen who walked alone at night or a fallen woman. A guide to stopping time and why Jesus walked into the inner sanctum and said prostitues and tax collectors will go to heaven before the high priests would.

 

 

1. B)

A Country and Urban State of Mind (Choose your own paradigm: You are either dying or living)

Between colors and territores are paths

The majority and minorities fluctuate

Maybe if we elected someone better

Tell me of feeling circumstances

Are out of the control of the critic...

...of the system

 

Can we ask a question to ourselves?

Why are we disatisfied with presidents?

Claiming the lesser of two evils?

Count the evils if you can and stay

Stuck in our minds build to look for...

...danger to survive

 

Strangers and foreigners we see

As groups not individual humans

Yet feel disconnected and alone

From the parliaments and bankers

Actors, stars, leaders of industry...

...know the truth

 

To be in control of our environment

Requires removing the thought

From the bottom to the very top

Accepting we can elect to plan

Our lives and days with small...

...everyday decisions 

 

Can you choose to write and click post

Then you can walk away satisfied

With your piece of mind said

But the key is that it was done...

...none can say otherwise

 

Counter and widdesrshins are not

The only way to think of the clocks

To tell another what time it is

If we only divide by units get

Stuck in the habits and choose...

...to not control our surroundings

 

Now choose to believe you are master

Of your own mind and the media lies

For profits of more units to trick eyes

Reading headlines that two sides or

More is the only choice that aligns...

...your perceptions making beliefs

 

Now deny the existence of beliefs

For atheists these are the gods

In books of believers it is told

Give to the Caeaser what is his

And to humankind whay is theirs...

...until women run the world

 

Again a return to revolution prophesied

That it would not be televised 

And the war we knew would come

When no one showed up

No profits to be made save...

...reaping your own harvest

 

Begin breaking poverty in thoughy

That you can survive with less

Than you thought possible

Then revise and transition

It back to knowing we thrive...

...and are alive

 

By Descended Master Undermine (Contra con ad addendo = a mantra to align your mind to these lines without rhyme or flow)

 

2. :rolleyes:

Liars who read and write bibles with beliefs and commands that say "thall shout not"

I. Do not just read inbetween the lines but write your own...

...force feeding the humans so we can eat them...

...do not just be told and listen without filters of how much and when.

 

II. Jesus told the expert fishermen who claimed their was no catch and that is the way it is....

...try casting your nets on the other side

 

III.And Matterundermind tells you to know that you capture your thoughts and beliefs.

By Descened Master Subtract Vulgar Illness (Rome has fell = a mantra to realize that SPQR, the senate and people of Rome, no longer is the standard great armies carry and fight for)

 

3. :wub:

Mindfulness meditation tells us to let the stream of thoughts and beliefs to slide through your mind without focusing on them as they will control you all the time.

In other news: video games from huge online MMORPGs down to popular ones on your social media paged...are designed to make one stay playing longer by knowing how your mind works.

Look it up and rememver Sun Tzu said, if you know yourself and the enemy you will win every battle, if you know one but not the other you will lose half the time, and if you know neither you will always lose.

Video game designers and corporations know your mind better than you.

Psychology today and neurosciene plus other disciplines, even philosphies you devise your self or found in books and TED talks, plus world mythologies and religions...

...all can help you compare and add the best ways when they all agree so you can let the deceptions not be masters of your minds = your mind and thoughts are not yours but all minds and times are.

By Descended Master Fallen Mary or She Who Topples Towers and Stands By The Dying 

(Who Wants A Rose Without Thorns? = a mantra to dispel suffering and outcasts, setbacks of life and fallen women

=a mantra to transmute the above into thriving and forgivness, unset clocks and being unshamed)

 

4. :rofl:

Hera and Cain's prophecy of system and collapse

Spoiler

(Also known as Heracle's Prophecy: a prophecy for some but not all, for each organism and each cadre have their own paths, and at times they align to form bodies bigger than the units that form them

.)

Time and space will collapse in September or October in the year 2017.

All of history and every area, all eternity and infinity, will revert and become as small as a ball you can hold in your hand and in your mind.

Ask yourself how many organisms are inside you, to how many are on your skin, bacteria and more, bless each one.

Bless every atom and chain of DNA in you and given to you. Let them be of one mind and filled with the white light of Christ, or illuminated by science and the design it investigates, and may they all be filled with love or balance.

For balance is the door:

Can you choose to write and click post

Then you can walk away satisfied

With your piece of mind said

But the key is that it was done...

...none can say otherwise

Counter and widdesrshins are not

The only way to think of the clocks

by Descended Mistress R. Rebellion of Standing Towers and Times

(Hickory, dickory, dock.
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
The mouse ran down,
Hickory, dickory, dock.

Hickory, dickory, dock.
The moouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
Down the mouse ran
Hickory, dickory, dock.

Hickory, dickory, dock.
The mouse ran up the clock.
The clock struck one,
And down the human ran,
Hickory, dickory, dock.

=

A folk prayer for raising all our towers and knowing a rebellion is well ran when everyone is in on the plan

 

 

A. :huh:

Notes: Joseph married Marry and made Jesus.

This means Let him add + our rebellion = Jehovah is our salvation.

Definition of Jesus

Defintion of Joseph

Meaning of Mary

Meaning of Magdalene

Quote

Our rebellion of Standing Towers makes all the Fallen Rise.

It is a rebellion against rebellion and a war against war and a life against death.

A protest against protest and a rule against rule....not the rulers.

As you are the ruler and must devise your own ruler and decide what shall it measure: a measure of justice or a measure of peace.

Forgive all even evolution.

Bless all even evolution.

By pass revolution and indeed the world will stop spinning and the sun will stand still.

 

Joshua also means Jehovah is our Salvation.

Quote

The English name "Joshua" is a rendering of the Hebrew language "Yehoshua", meaning "Yahweh is salvation".

The vocalization of the second name component may be read as Hoshea—the name used in the Torah before Moses added the divine name (Numbers 13:16).

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Joshua

 

The tetragrammaton (/ˌtɛtrəˈɡræmətɒn/; fromGreek Τετραγράμματον, meaning "[consisting of] four letters") is the four Hebrew lettersיהוה‎, commonly transliterated into Latin letters as YHWH.

It is one of the names of God used in the Hebrew Bible. The name may be derived from a verb that means "to be", "to exist", "to cause to become", or "to come to pass".

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tetragrammaton

 

 

B & C. ^_^ :D 

MORE TO BE UNDONE FOR DECONSTRUCTION LEADS TO TRUE GOLD 

paths and roads, bridges and homes, is true gold where...

...living waters (we are 70% water just like earth)

...tree of life (for healing for all who ate from the single tree of knowledge of good and evil, or dualism, two-sides, good-and-bad, right-and-wrong, truth-and-fact, true-and-false, night-and-day, life-and-death, us-vs-them, me-and-you, happy-and-sad, straight-and-crooked, homo-and-hetero, bow-and-arrow...)

For when an archer becomes one with his weapon and a marine with his rifle, they can form into functional components of larger bodies.

JOIN NEITHER SIDE: WE HAVE CAKE AND ICE CREAM AND YOU SCREAM....

 

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It Was Done is the key and Balance is the door (Is America a republic or a democracy?)

stop the republican war against women

oppose the tyranny of men, democracy

(repeat twice) romehasfelL

(say once) Llefsahemor

 

When we design by committe 

We create camels instead of horses

(repeat twice) againstwithtowardadding 

(say once) gniddadrawothtiwtsniang

 

start being a lamb that can transform

into two wolves and vote for...

 

...what should we have for lunch?

 

TWO RIDDLES OF DEMOCRACY AND HOW SHE BECOMES THEM

1.

Q. WHAT SHOULD WE HAVE FOR LUNCH?

A. A PIC-NIC ON THE GROUND WHERE WE ALL SIT IN A CIRCLE 

 

2.

A? A MOTHER ASKED KNELT BEFORE JESUS AND SHE ASKED THAT OF HER TWO SONS ONE SITS ON THE RIGHT AND THE OTHER ON THE LEFT.

Q. JESUS SAID TO [u[THEM[/u] THAT THEY DID NOT KNOW WHAT YOU ARE ASKING.

 

 

 

 

Edited by Matterundermind
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8 hours ago, Hammerclaw said:

If a door should never open,

If at last, the heart should fail,

Withered of all emotion

Of a lost love's sad travail.

With the moon of autumn rising,

To quench the day's delight,

Will I see the sun yet shining,

In the pale-cool gloaming light?

I believe the stars were meant for,

Lovers lost in their sweet dream,

Sharing secrets of devotion,

With eyes where love-lights gleam.

Ever lost in contemplation

Of a future bright with joy.

Girded with love's dear elation,

Nothing ever will destroy.

So I'll await a door to open,

To the sunset of my heart,

By memory's surging river,

Until, at last, Earth I depart.

For the daughter of my heart.

 

Wow, that is amazing. I love it!!!

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  • 4 weeks later...

The Ballad of Damon Cory

The leaves of Autumn fall upon a stream of bloody water

Flowing crimson down the mountain

Then swiftly to the sea,

And I know that in the fastness of those hills there's been a slaughter

And that crimson, frothing fountain carries home your soul to me.

Damon Cory, Damon Cory whither do ye be a-flyin'

While your woman waits a-cryin'

By your flaming hearth below?

Damon Cory, Damon Cory what's this talk a ye a-dyin'

That ye'll by a stream be lyin'

As the bloody waters flow?

Tonight ye sang your death-song

For in dreams I heard ye singin'

And I heard the pipes a-skirlin'

Like thunder in the sky.

Then, I heard the cries of battle

And the crashing claymores, ringin'

And I knew, tho' we would triumph

In that skirmish ye would die.

Damon Cory, Damon Cory whither do ye be a-flyin'

While your woman waits a-crying 

By your flaming hearth below?

Damon Cory, Damon Cory what's this talk a ye a-dyin'

That ye'll by a stream be lying

As the bloody waters flow?

Anon the clan will gather by your grave to mark your passage

And at the wake that follows, they'll toast your gallantry.

Yet for your widow in weeds naught will assuage her sorrow,

For all a ye that's left to her is wistful memory.

Damon Cory, Damon Cory whither do ye be a-flyin'

While your woman waits a-cryin'

By your flaming hearth below?

Damon Cory, Damon Cory what's this talk a ye a-dyin

That ye'll by a stream be lyin'

As the bloody waters flow?                 John Wesley Boyd

Something I wrote after very vivid dream.

Edited by Hammerclaw
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On 7/31/2017 at 11:05 PM, Hammerclaw said:

If a door should never open,

If at last, the heart should fail,

Withered of all emotion

Of a lost love's sad travail.

With the moon of autumn rising,

To quench the day's delight,

Will I see the sun yet shining,

In the pale-cool gloaming light?

I believe the stars were meant for,

Lovers lost in their sweet dream,

Sharing secrets of devotion,

With eyes where love-lights gleam.

Ever lost in contemplation

Of a future bright with joy.

Girded with love's dear elation,

Nothing ever will destroy.

So I'll await a door to open,

To the sunset of my heart,

By memory's surging river,

Until, at last, Earth I depart.

For the daughter of my heart.

 

 

On 8/28/2017 at 2:09 AM, Hammerclaw said:

The Ballad of Damon Cory

The leaves of Autumn fall upon a stream of bloody water

Flowing crimson down the mountain

Then swiftly to the sea,

And I know that in the fastness of those hills there's been a slaughter

And that crimson, frothing fountain carries home your soul to me.

Damon Cory, Damon Cory whither do ye be a-flyin'

While your woman waits a-cryin'

By your flaming hearth below?

Damon Cory, Damon Cory what's this talk a ye a-dyin'

That ye'll by a stream be lyin'

As the bloody waters flow?

Tonight ye sang your death-song

For in dreams I heard ye singin'

And I heard the pipes a-skirlin'

Like thunder in the sky.

Then, I heard the cries of battle

And the crashing claymores, ringin'

And I knew, tho' we would triumph

In that skirmish ye would die.

Damon Cory, Damon Cory whither do ye be a-flyin'

While your woman waits a-crying 

By your flaming hearth below?

Damon Cory, Damon Cory what's this talk a ye a-dyin'

That ye'll by a stream be lying

As the bloody waters flow?

Anon the clan will gather by your grave to mark your passage

And at the wake that follows, they'll toast your gallantry.

Yet for your widow in weeds naught will assuage her sorrow,

For all a ye that's left to her is wistful memory.

Damon Cory, Damon Cory whither do ye be a-flyin'

While your woman waits a-cryin'

By your flaming hearth below?

Damon Cory, Damon Cory what's this talk a ye a-dyin

That ye'll by a stream be lyin'

As the bloody waters flow?                 John Wesley Boyd

Something I wrote after very vivid dream.

these are both wonderful and for me stunning again and again.

reading them yet unable to comment for they leave me at a loss so this my comment.

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It's been ask of me by one whom I admire why I clung so long to a love so oft forsaken, endured the heartache, sadness and pain to ring what joy I could from one whose life was so fleeting and ephemeral, whose heart was inconstant, whose love and affection elusive, insubstantial, who appeared in my life like a mist in the morning that the sun so quickly dissipated 'till it vanished away. The words and song that follow are not my own, but they are so telling, it's as if they might have been written by a kindred spirit, who knew a pain and a joy such as mine. Whose words, as you will see, give the answer so much better than I.              

                                                      

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Autumn Rain

There's a wistfulness 'bout Autumn, the orange and reds of turning leaves,

There's a gladness and a sadness, as Summer's Fall all nature grieves.

Cloudy skies and cold winds blowing, float the leaves in fairy dances,

You skip across the chill branch flowing, light-hearted, carefree, taking chances,

One more day of life to treasure, One more night withholds the pain.

One more year of fleeting shadows, unto the mist and Autumn rain.

 

 

I am of the Autumn people, bound by birthright bound to one fate,

Chasing love in waning Summer, only to vanish through Fall's gate.

To seek a path that's ever-winding. 'tween the boles of dew-wet trees

Through the mist's elusive shadows, glimpsing possibilities

I should know it's vain and foolish, with naught to win or ever gain. 

Still I'm ensnared and summoned thither, unto the mist and Autumn rain.

 

Edited by Hammerclaw
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6 hours ago, Hammerclaw said:

Autumn Rain

There's a wistfulness 'bout Autumn, the orange and reds of turning leaves,

There's a gladness and a sadness, as Summer's Fall all nature grieves.

Cloudy skies and cold winds blowing, float the leaves in fairy dances,

You skip across the chill branch flowing, light-hearted, carefree, taking chances,

One more day of life to treasure, One more night withholds the pain.

One more year of fleeting shadows, unto the mist and Autumn rain.

 

 

I am of the Autumn people, bound by birthright to one fate,

Chasing love in waning Summer, only to vanish through Fall's gate.

To seek a path that's ever-winding. 'tween the boles of dew-wet trees

Through the mist's elusive shadows, glimpsing possibilities

I should know it's vain and foolish, with naught to win or ever gain. 

Still I'm ensnared and summoned thither, unto the mist and Autumn rain.

 

 

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On ‎8‎/‎30‎/‎2017 at 11:27 AM, Matterundermind said:

 

On ‎8‎/‎28‎/‎2017 at 3:09 AM, Hammerclaw said:

The Ballad of Damon Cory

The leaves of Autumn fall upon a stream of bloody water

Flowing crimson down the mountain

Then swiftly to the sea,

And I know that in the fastness of those hills there's been a slaughter

And that crimson, frothing fountain carries home your soul to me.

Damon Cory, Damon Cory whither do ye be a-flyin'

While your woman waits a-cryin'

By your flaming hearth below?

Damon Cory, Damon Cory what's this talk a ye a-dyin'

That ye'll by a stream be lyin'

As the bloody waters flow?

Tonight ye sang your death-song

For in dreams I heard ye singin'

And I heard the pipes a-skirlin'

Like thunder in the sky.

Then, I heard the cries of battle

And the crashing claymores, ringin'

And I knew, tho' we would triumph

In that skirmish ye would die.

Damon Cory, Damon Cory whither do ye be a-flyin'

While your woman waits a-crying 

By your flaming hearth below?

Damon Cory, Damon Cory what's this talk a ye a-dyin'

That ye'll by a stream be lyin"

As the bloody waters flow?

Anon the clan will gather by your grave to mark your passage

And at the wake that follows, they'll toast your gallantry.

Yet for your heart-broke widow naught will assuage her sorrow,

For all a ye that's left to her is wistful memory.

Damon Cory, Damon Cory whither do ye be a-flyin'

While your woman waits a-cryin'

By your flaming hearth below?

Damon Cory, Damon Cory what's this talk a ye a-dyin

That ye'll by a stream be lyin'

As the bloody waters flow?                 John Wesley Boyd

Something I wrote after very vivid dream.

 

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Lyrics of the original Star Trek Theme

Beyond the rim of starlight

My love is wandering in star-flight.

I know he'll find in star-clustered reaches,

Love, strange love a star-woman teaches.

I know his journey ends never.

His star trek will go on forever,

But tell him while he wanders his starry sea;

Remember, remember me.                            Gene Roddenberry

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  • 2 weeks later...

Raiment of Night

Two lonely people meet to tryst when evening glooms are gathering

Beneath the flickering neon lights where searching hearts come wandering.

She sees him sitting by himself, eyes toward the door for her to be

Beside him for a little while, yearning for her company.

Her heart leaps as she meets his eyes, They sit in quiet reverie 

And whisper words just for themselves surrounded by the revelry.

They share the words of joy and pain of life become a travesty,

Console themselves with drink and talk and understanding sympathy.

At half past ten it's time to leave, him home to her, her home to him.

As in their eyes a sorrow grows to mask the glow now growing dim.

He looks back once to see her standing 'neath the twinkling neon light;

She watches as he slowly goes, 'til swallowed by the raiment of the night.

 

 

Edited by Hammerclaw
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23 hours ago, Hammerclaw said:

Raiment of Night

Two lonely people meet to tryst when evening glooms are gathering

Beneath the flickering neon lights where searching hearts come wandering.

She sees him sitting by himself, eyes toward the door for her to be

Beside him for a little while, yearning for her company.

Her heart leaps as she meets his eyes, They sit in quiet reverie 

And whisper words just for themselves surrounded by the revelry.

They share the words of joy and pain of life become a travesty,

Console themselves with drink and talk and understanding sympathy.

At half past ten it's time to leave, him home to her, her home to him.

As in their eyes a sorrow grows to mask the glow now growing dim.

He looks back once to see her standing 'neath the twinkling neon light;

She watches as he slowly goes, 'til swallowed by the raiment of the night.

 

 

The tailor is here writing above with craft

 

sewing no label but who dare would

accept to dress nyx and nox for the

red carpet at the awards show where

blood stained paths become salted

so keep your battles outside grounds

by request of the facilities mgmt

 

 

all will gather and be crowned or titled

seraphim and child, cherubim and belial

swords can dub thee all in the imaginary

clubs will accept even the cloven footed

it is ok if your love was looted in self

we trust lust must rust dust hush such

 

 

yay all save her are worthless but style

and elegance shall grace us too for who

is tinker master of wagon trains name

all blue veined long haired women cared

no stared just starred and fair at that too

 

noble is neon moon but brooks or bars

dunn and done fun under sun and moon

purple hearts, yellow arts, rust proof cart

start without end or firing of a gun run

run run like johnny in the hall in mirror

in the path of horses times four see

land by lady smith and man new moon

is the bees wax and double axes in .38

 

 

 

 

 

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Can you see her below?

 

¿Is she a horse or a rider?

¿has she drank her cider?

steeped her head in our hearth

sylvan path, plath, do the math@

 

i see a fifth human form, no more?

shall we limit humanity by ocean?

not being our mother and moon

lover of hekate in simple dress

without body just tresses in wind

 

Da hast du es, Bilbze!"

third tier knife stabs air

then the form of her there!

appears? no dear, always near

steer the steeds and steal the saddles

cut the fences again, oh return fence

cutting war of 1-881 so forget 666-7777

 

now she is regaled at times outside lead

glowing one or snake-minded kind

in the rear of the wagon train she 

might appear as a damsel or a don

even a horse of course or worse

all of them even the birds....

 

 

 

 

Riders_of_the_Sidhe.jpg

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I see the same here too in sky ground

compare the two images as above below will equals the same

a place in illinous one can go nsew

all at the at the same time

the wild hunt rides!

edward-robert-hughes-night-with-her-train-of-stars.jpg

Edited by Matterundermind
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  • 2 weeks later...

Nothing I can do

I pick up the pen to write, but the words sound false and hollow,

Intransigent mutterings, thoughts transient and shallow.

On the wind-swept moor of my mind I wander aimless, bereft of direction,

Through rainy mists the eidolons of memory flit, touched by shadows of affection.

Where I am, where I should be, 

This witching hour of bleak reverie, 

I know not, but that here I be,

beneath a wan and gibbous moon, lost in dreams,

And in phantasmagoric nightmares swoon,

Beneath the dripping Alder trees. 

 

Pass to me the silver cup that I might drink deep of it,

Let it's draught of poison sear away the rot that blights my soul.

Let the night-gaunts rise from their nightmare bog that I might war with them

Summon forth the daemons from their blighted fens that they might fight me,

Let the riverine flow of exquisite pain delight me,

Consume in fire the anguish which be smites me,

That I might tumble into the abyss of slumber without dreams.

 

Never again will I set course for any mortal realm

By starlight and moonlight will my course be set,

'Till looms before me the mountainous midnight shore.

I will journey inland to the ruins of a king's ambition,

And summon forth my vampire lover, asleep in her tomb of dreams.

Her cold-white arms will embrace me,

Her eyes like pools of shadow will efface me.

Like liquid ice her crimson kiss will brand me, demand of me,

In her bower of cobwebs enfold me, hold me, in the never of evermore,

My flesh forever shackled to a heart that never beats,

And nothing I can do.

 

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  • 9 months later...
On 10/3/2017 at 3:10 AM, Hammerclaw said:

Nothing I can do

I pick up the pen to write, but the words sound false and hollow,

Intransigent mutterings, thoughts transient and shallow.

On the wind-swept moor of my mind I wander aimless, bereft of direction,

Through rainy mists the eidolons of memory flit, touched by shadows of affection.

Where I am, where I should be, 

This witching hour of bleak reverie, 

I know not, but that here I be,

beneath a wan and gibbous moon, lost in dreams,

And in phantasmagoric nightmares swoon,

Beneath the dripping Alder trees. 

 

Pass to me the silver cup that I might drink deep of it,

Let it's draught of poison sear away the rot that blights my soul.

Let the night-gaunts rise from their nightmare bog that I might war with them

Summon forth the daemons from their blighted fens that they might fight me,

Let the riverine flow of exquisite pain delight me,

Consume in fire the anguish which be smites me,

That I might tumble into the abyss of slumber without dreams.

 

Never again will I set course for any mortal realm

By starlight and moonlight will my course be set,

'Till looms before me the mountainous midnight shore.

I will journey inland to the ruins of a king's ambition,

And summon forth my vampire lover, asleep in her tomb of dreams.

Her cold-white arms will embrace me,

Her eyes like pools of shadow will efface me.

Like liquid ice her crimson kiss will brand me, demand of me,

In her bower of cobwebs enfold me, hold me, in the never of evermore,

My flesh forever shackled to a heart that never beats,

And nothing I can do.

 

This is my first attempt to pen a response to what bright beauty and balefire before all is always present when Master Hammerclaw pens.

Even when he is proposing love for another is false and fools are we for living in our fleshly forms that all to often consume all we can comprehend, to boot.

 

 

 

And all can be done even in practice

 

Fact is you wield sword that can fork

Or speak simple and sever spirit & soul

Marrow makes blood and joints bridge

Many arrows & live fire fell from a ridge

Yet before signals were sent and spies 

Eyed terrain with pen on paper or eyes,

Eyes follow ears 'cross mind & memory

 

Cause we'd rather write false & true

Than say false & full tribute is due you

When true & hollow is sparrow & lark

Or Odin's raven's return to report that

Flesh is false or true but suit of armor

Maybe an elegant suit or what will you

For me multichromatic rags or shade

And pale garments washed clean until

They gleam of a newlywed bride name

NERO CAESER or SISTER CLARA KORE

 

Quote

37 1 He himself, to create the impression that no place gave him equal pleasure with Rome, began to serve banquets in the public places and to  p271 treat the entire city as his palace. In point of extravagance and notoriety, the most celebrated of the feasts was that arranged by Tigellinus; which I shall describe as a type, instead of narrating time and again the monotonous tale of prodigality.

He constructed, then, a raft on the Pool of Agrippa,8 and superimposed a banquet, to be set in motion by other craft acting as tugs. The vessels were gay with gold and ivory, and the oarsmen were catamites marshalled according to their ages and their libidinous attainments.

He had collected birds and wild beasts from the ends of the earth, and marine animals from the ocean itself.

On the quays of the lake stood brothels, filled with women of high rank; and, opposite, naked harlots met the view.

First came obscene gestures and dances; then, as darkness advanced, the whole of the neighbouring grove, together with the dwelling-houses around, began to echo with song and to glitter with lights.

Nero himself, defiled by every natural and unnatural lust had left no abomination in reserve with which to crown his vicious existence; except that, a few days later, he became, with the full rites of legitimate marriage, the wife of one of that herd of degenerates,9 who bore the name of Pythagoras. The veil was drawn over the imperial head, witnesses were despatched to the scene; the dowry, the couch of wedded love, the nuptial torches, were there: everything, in fine, which night enshrouds even if a woman is the bride, was left open to the view.

-Book XV of Annals by Tacitus

http://penelope.uchicago.edu/Thayer/e/roman/texts/tacitus/annals/15b*.html

 

Edited by Mr. Sister Elle Sade Ai Ni
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