

immature
I want to go along innocently and
Maybe forget that I've heard all these words before from other
Men's lips.
At least you're different in a way that
Truly matters. But I'm afraid I'm just looking to be
Understood. And we
Really barely know each other...
Except it feels so right to be with you;
no matter how immature that sounds.
signifying nothing
is yellow
really yellow
blue blue
am I me
are you you
can you trust
what you think
or what you think
you know
have faith in
what you see
be it sun, moon
or snow
is that a dove
at your doorstep
white wing
marred with red
clearly dead
left by the neighbor’s cat
whose backward curiosity
has left you with that
is it really there
can you touch it
do you dare
extend your finger
then tremble
as you watch it
disappear
a figment of
a growing fear
that nothing is
that nothing’s there
a silent scream
can’t pierce the air
your mind unravels
unnatural motives
of inception
a world unseen
full of deception
an alternate truth
that’s quite obscene
where death is life
and life is dream
and nothing
is ever
as it seems
it’s not a gift
it’s simply hell
a time and place
we needs must dwell
till the undertaker’s dream
we do fulfill
but
does such a thing as time
exist
can even place
subsist
beyond
the mind’s
embalming mist
that hides us
from the black
abyss
where night is day
and day is night
the dark is love
and hate is light
and Hate’s last breath
gives blinding sight
of man’s true fate
forever in an instant
there’s no plan
no intention
no blueprint
why carry on
when we’re
nearing the
end of days
oblivion
I think of scales
on butterfly wings
that iridescent hue
or musical ones
of a song you can’t sing
in a world you never knew
is yellow
really yellow
blue, blue?
Making gods out dust
I like my favorite food , like my favorite humans , I will consume over and again , addict to euphoria , idolizing the flavor , I will share it joys with everyone , but never a piece from my plate … over time It will disappoint me and their is no joy in consuming so much of something only to be let down … I have made a god out of peach O’s and watched it humble me … I have made thrones out of dirt and flesh … and only to be disappointed their is no altar fitting for humans and fleeting circumstances , that show me too much of how they are flesh and dirt , their is no gold in their bones , they will weather like iron in the means of storms .. rust showing all character and nothing becoming …
My body becomes a jungle gym
You climb on me
Knead yourself into
Me
I am placid and jello
The kitchen calls me
My mouth leaves itself open like a fly trap
I wonder if this is what being underground feels like… or sitting on a pedastal and watching mortals .. chose a god … and finding their is no heaven in between legs .. after the light goes out , we are all shadows and gaping mouths .. making gods out of dust ..
Composite Drawing
This composite drawing
Of my face...
Is the surface which we scrape...
At the Providence of
Passions...
We all bleed for human sake!...
This composite drawing
Of us...
Is a cold and meaty stare...
With the high beams on
All public knowledge
And the bias that is shared...
...Though beneath the hype,
Our fantasies of mind play
Quite a different note...
There's no black or white,
And the preordained
Are as lost as common folk...
Rampant beauty rounds
Each corner!...
There are treasures big, and
Small...
Far beyond these realms of prejudice,
We are naked, one and all!...
This composite drawing
Of my face...
Is the surface which we scrape...
At the Providence of
Passions...
We all bleed for human sake!...
This composite drawing
Of us...
Is a cold and meaty stare...
With the high beams on
All public knowledge
And the bias that is shared...
If we threw away the blue-print,
And the map for humankind
Could we stumble through this winding forest,
Breathing needles of the Pine?...
Every sunset that slipped past us...
All that moonshine that we missed...
There are skies that hold at least
Two of both...if not four, or five, or six...
There are lakes of purple water
Making flesh shine like gemstone!...
The picture of our lives reflects
A legend yet untold...
This composite drawing
Of my face...
Is the surface which we scrape...
At the Providence of
Passions...
We all bleed for human sake!...
This composite drawing
Of us...
Is a cold and meaty stare...
With the high beams on
All public knowledge
And the bias that is shared...
All the bleeding hearts, there's
A place for you!...
All the tall and small, and wide...
All the woman who disguise their pain
With a modicum of pride...
All the men who don't breed terror...
All the duel sexed organ souls...
All the gay men who raise children
In a world of jaundiced codes...
Divining on our Zion in the crack that nature made!...
Though the dirty road's devoid of signs
And so often lies unpaved...
This composite drawing
Of my face...
Is the surface which we scrape...
At the Providence of
Passions...
We all bleed for human sake!...
This composite drawing
Of us...
Is a cold and meaty stare...
With the high beams on
All public knowledge
And the bias that is shared...
8/25/23
Bunny Villaire
Edit#2
Levelz
Weapons & fireworks
Lips meet with sweet, gentle love
Hearts beating as one
Tiniest human
Learning how to survive
In the starry land
Hands slowly learning
To create a masterpiece
One that beats Rembrandt
-Smiles, tears, joy, laughter—
My golden cup is filled up
With moments of bliss
Folks gather together
To bid adieu to
A beaming mage
https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=yJ3q_6KWSQE
#Levelz 25.8.23 ©️
Stages
After nine short months,
we emerge, naked and small...
welcome to the world!
Years of rapid growth
bring us into puberty...
where we know it all!
Our maturity
achieved, but at our own pace...
then we multiply!
Elders we become,
wisdom gained by blood and tears...
souls, though scarred, shine bright!
Finally we reach
the clearing beyond the path...
welcomed home, by God!
-------------------------
© 2023 - dustygrein
Fallacy of Spectacles
Beware of the
Rose colored glasses
As they falsely
Ease life’s problems
While we’re stuck on
This mental carousel
With its machine gun
Rapid repugnant thoughts
Because we desire things
That will destroy us
In the end
X Marks the Spot
Could it be a letter?
Secret sign — or better?
Treasure map?
Mindless Rap ....
Cat or Irish Setter?
Let’s dig way too deep.
(Cry until we weep.)
With dirty nails,
day-old mail
& legend-making leaps.
Try & try again.
With bloodied iron pen.
Change our stripes
with dreams & hype —
until we cry again.
.
New Promo Video Released!
Tainted Sky's First Official Promo Vid! Check it out:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pKpwLQBnKjk&ab_channel=TaijaSensei
Tell your friends! Tell your nemesis...es! Tell the wooorrlldd!!!
In order to get this on your shelves, I need a following! So every like, every shared link, every bit of support helps like crazy!
Baby , little baby .
Would you even love me , if we created something beautiful and it never saw the light . Would you hold my body or caste me aside , would we turn into blameless faceless and hands full of acusations and no room to bury grief …
Spend evenings laying on coffins and waiting for this to end .. you don’t have to stay anymore … you can run …. And I still hold the bellly and the body … You can deny your body was ever a home … I have no choice to still leave the shutters open and hold the windows and the heartbeat … the faint jolts of laughter …. There was someone here … in me .. standing in mirrors and turning to the side … place hand.. hides shame .. and regret .. I know it all …. Lost and found… I tell her it is not your fault .. I tell her she may try again … and I tell her she will be a a good mother ….
Because on the days when she is longing for baby feet , she will say it’s her fault in the middle of the night when he doesn’t hold her or stay …
When she finds herself craving … to become more than a woman … she must know she can try again …
When she looks at her hands at the doctors with good news … she will doubt .. if she will be good .. she will need to know she is still a mother if she loses it and she will be a good mother …
And when I sit next to her I ask in Spanish … if she would like a hug … I stop in the middle of speaking … and I get nervous I want it to be translated perfectly .. I know how much words mean … I ask him to ask if she consents to a hug … I hug … I speak my Spanish .. it’s broken … it’s grief …. And I become professional .. in the moments … that pull me way to deep into personal … I tell her te amo … becaUse she must know she is loved …
She is loved
She is loved
She is loved
She is still a mother
Even when her body cannot hold a host .