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.

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?

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 ..

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

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 ©️

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

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

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.

.

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!

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 .