GO !  BELOVED MAN ~ go  c r e a t e

         YOU are the CENTRE OF CREATION
see these children in my embracing protection
I will send them when you are ready
        we all float flying together confidently
but now you must   L  E  A  V E, descend

our forefingers are disengaging, a pattern paternal, forever humanity will remember
this gesture, TWO IN ONE, a HOLDING
and LETTING go, sign of
                GRACEFUL DIVINE INSTRUCTION

I birth your progeny, birthing  ALL WORLDS
    this teen your son says : “BE not afraid”
               he becomes angry
as you lounge hesitant, question or plead
he is impatient to elevate what you will manifest
   but wait he must ~ ONLY I control TIME

                           I   s  t  r e  t  c  h  Y O U,  SON
I   O P E N  S K Y  in the eternal Now
     immersing myself in my creations
then letting them GO
           this   is    NO  FALL call it  ART ~ MY COMMAND FOR YOU IS  RISE then  F ~ L~ Y                                    
                  You are my CHOSEN
EYES to eyes
             THE TIME IS NOW
              recline no more in cloud beauty
endurance is your hallmark

ferocity tangos with LOVE
I will not forsake you  
you will soar on my winds
they will carry your shapely limbs
ready groin will create at my bidding
your elegant strong fingers will caress

Question not MY IMAGE                          
man of man, woman of woman
   curved ears hear, wide nostrils breathe life
Heart pumping into infinity
food will flow from hair to toe tip
ACT and RELAX, written into ****** constitution

Forever MICHELANGELO, Sculptor
   humble Genius I saLute you, My own Creation
                            Son of Marbled Art
                                           Yours sincerely, GOD

When a noble heart is betrayed,
He runs not home, but feeds the flame.

Toward the low, he throws his grace,
A furious fall from a higher place.

As if to curse what once was pure,
To make his past no longer endure.

Not for pleasure, not for thrill
But to punish the light it once stood still.

distracted by gleaming greens
emerging into the deep sea
the pitch black, ditch facts
invested in the diversity
shrugging off adversity
distracted by gleaming greens
birth in sea like Aphrodite
my descent is perfect timing

I wake reciting lines
mouthing syllables
I thought were gone

Coldly raging
at the same hollow loss
on the edge of my dreams
you are turning away

How does it feel?

It feels like my child-dreams
the soundless screaming descent
into bottle-green dark
as the light recedes to a halo
I know I am dying

I wake drenched in this
my thoughts turn you over
and over and I ask
Could I ever have read you?

I leafed through you, yes
then put you aside
left your pages
fluttering


27/12/20

Time is a prison
That I cannot escape
It drags me back and forth
Lashed against square walls
There is no break
In its relentless order
It’s like a tyrant
Commanding my existence
Everyone else is trapped
In their own ticking prison
But they stopped fighting
Gave into the stupor
Rats on a wheel
is much less painful
Than running up against
Time’s unforgiving confines
Why are we all roped in?
Is there no way out?
Of this looming pendulum
Pounding in my ears
Laughing at hope
A sarcastic witch
Where is God?
He doesn’t put himself in a box
His days are unnumbered
This is a joke or a game
I don’t want to play
I just want to be free
This monotonous pulse
Every second dictated
Drives me into madness
But I’m the only sane one
who still acknowledges captivity
I will conquer this regime
Even if God is the dictator
Because there is only void
Between the beats
Blackness, stillness
That’s where God hides
Beyond time, beyond life
I will break the code
I will find Him
If He’s not there
At least, I will be free
In the peace and quiet

Good Evening,
I hope your journey was pleasurable
Would you like any refreshments?
A hot cup of blood perhaps,
Or some freshly brewed darkness?

-


feel the heaviness
of invitations
bold,

free fall of purpose,
dissolving into a
whirlpool

circling it's center
thinning number
by number

ten, nine, eight,
se—seven,
six, five,

four~

feather tips
stroking
underneath
upturned
palms

three~

fingertips
light­ly
touching
delicate
doorways

two~

steps away from
loose earth at
the edge,

giving way
to

one ;

submerged as the
membrane above
sleep vaporizes

into web-footed
thrusting through
currents

with "up" rotated
lateral
across the
undertow and
pulling you beneath—

breathe...



s jones
2021



.

No regret , no descent of gloomy drop from eyes and no pain in heart for falling for a man dressed in courage.

No shivering in hands for emptying all those love poetries into trash which unknowingly embraced a spineless in the ****.

Flowers of love and trust , though , trampled but I am still a flower who is yet to be wilted !