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A Few Poems
Here's a few of my more recent poetry I have written several more at http://www.geocities.com/elflord_brad/My_Poetry.html
The ones actually about religion on that page were written when I was still devoutly Catholic. It was also before I found Buddhism. The one about heaven and Jesus being the true way are not apart of my beliefs anymore. So enjoy...
The War of the Gods
The drums beat, the armies march
The swords are drawn, to arms to arms
The Golden cross, the crescent moon
A spark, a flash, Alarm Alarm
To build a kingdom, to slay a demon
Our faith must we persuade
If not adhere, or reject the word
Then fight, we must in a Holy Crusade
From battle to battle on over the hill
Many despair, no water or cod
The world is ending, our doom awaits
For this is surely the war of the Gods
...Sorry if that was a bit pessimistic (sp?) But this one's a little more cheerful
A Girl
With hair of brown, no tint of gold
Without her, my heart is cold
Hair that's straight, no curl in sight
Perfect teeth, a smile just right
Yet I may not worthy, oh would I weep
For without her, I am sheperd without sheep
Barely the courage I have to say hello
My mind stops working, and body turns to jello
Love I do feel, perhaps from the heart
Swavv am I not, though off to a good start
Unlike others, its attraction much deeper
I should tell her how I feel, before I meet Grim Reaper
The ones actually about religion on that page were written when I was still devoutly Catholic. It was also before I found Buddhism. The one about heaven and Jesus being the true way are not apart of my beliefs anymore. So enjoy...
The War of the Gods
The drums beat, the armies march
The swords are drawn, to arms to arms
The Golden cross, the crescent moon
A spark, a flash, Alarm Alarm
To build a kingdom, to slay a demon
Our faith must we persuade
If not adhere, or reject the word
Then fight, we must in a Holy Crusade
From battle to battle on over the hill
Many despair, no water or cod
The world is ending, our doom awaits
For this is surely the war of the Gods
...Sorry if that was a bit pessimistic (sp?) But this one's a little more cheerful
A Girl
With hair of brown, no tint of gold
Without her, my heart is cold
Hair that's straight, no curl in sight
Perfect teeth, a smile just right
Yet I may not worthy, oh would I weep
For without her, I am sheperd without sheep
Barely the courage I have to say hello
My mind stops working, and body turns to jello
Love I do feel, perhaps from the heart
Swavv am I not, though off to a good start
Unlike others, its attraction much deeper
I should tell her how I feel, before I meet Grim Reaper
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Finally our sangha has it's own literary corner!
The attached story was written by 'me' about two years ago, enjoy!
Everywhere I go always grows cold as I wrap myself within blankets of midnight dreams.
The sky tonight is a lidless eye, and in it's fading time the moon spies down upon me.
I come to steal the warmth that once was summer.
The heart of the seasons I slow, grasping it tightly in my fingers.
Each beat one moment longer until...it's passing into silence.
That is my cue to take the stage, I dance in black on top of it's remains.
In my time life comes to learn patience.
A careful ear may hear my hiss, from where my breath delivers it's deadly shiver.
The sun will mourn it's lover lost - until the following year.
2.A wishful heart
Eyes that quickly glance away.
Doors that close their beauty tight.
A treasure of secrets lost.
What is it that you think of me?
Lips that speak words unheard.
Soft and ripe the fruits of love.
What can I say to make you smile?
My imaginary Helen of Troy.
The face that has captured my obsession.
Alone in my bed you carry me off to sleep.
How many nights will you haunt my dreams?
Sunshine and stars in you breath.
Phantom nightingales sing each spoken word.
Each day lived just to catch a glimpse.
A good night kiss from the shadow of your lover.
3.Puberty
They smell the chum in the water.
Hormones raging into a frenzy.
Feeding on the lust of instincts.
I sit in the background watching.
My eyes behold their twisted fantasies.
Deranged insane corrupted disease.
The answer disappears in the dance of obscene.
3.Maiden, mother, crone
The seasons of a woman are like the phases of the moon.
Maiden, mother, crone.
One day you shall be all three.
A pagan goddess who holds all the secrets of the world.
Maiden priestess who fills hearts with a desire of spring-time passion and fertile soil;
Where the mother's womb creates new life, giving birth to her child in warm summer love.
Wisdom descends like snow from the winter winds of the crone, the great teacher of them all.
As the seasons of the woman change the ancient cycle is renewed.
Maiden, mother, crone.
For your child you shall be like the phases of the moon, just as long ago you once were for me.
~Elohim
heres one
holding power
taking aim
staring down the
barrel of your gun
barrel of your pussy
barrel of your pipe
I can feel the power
I can feel the pain
It surges through my being
It surges through my soul
I am free
I am me
I am one with myself
I just made that up. What do you all think? :bowdown:
Saint Paul saw a light on a road in the East.
Young Samuel woke with a start.
Moses, of course, had a mountain (with sheep).
But I hear my Voice in the bath.
Some Muses may stutter or cry in alarm.
Some sing, paint or just make you laugh.
But I hear them best when I'm wet and I'm warm,
For I hear my Voice in the bath.
As my toes twiddle taps
and the steam fills the room
and the sun turns the water to glass
then all beings are one
and all stories are told
and the newest of songs are the epics of old
'cos I hear my still Voice in the bath.
greedy guts up on a hill
in his big house with his big belly
drunk with power drunk with wine
doesnt have to pull a trigger to kill
doesnt have the time
we are told...
"the land of the free"
this is democracy...
equal rights deserve equal responsability
yea right......
youre choking me
with your blithe lifestyle
300 billion spent to kill
to feed your fat ass
on your fat hill
bombs dont discriminate
against men, women or children
i hope youre happy greedy guts
heres a poem to describe a DXM trip:
slowly
submerse me,
deeper
into this dizzy,
distracted
dissociation.
hold me,
im falling...
let go,
im right here...
im okay.
no, im not...
i want more
no i dont...
maybe next time
im hot,
ill take my shirt off
why did i take my shirt off?...
if you dont do something to it
you cant keep it down.
am i dreaming while im awake?
visual tracers how neat.
double vision.
did i ever tell you
you have three eyes?
am i standing?
i was sitting...
i think i like doing this...
ill never do this again.
black is blacker
when youre on...
...i felt as if
my soul, one among a million
ripping away from my body
i felt as if...
i had to hang on
with all my might
and never let go...
never let go.....
after i wondered why
i felt such an urge.
i remembered it didnt matter
and carried on
In a land far away
A confused man looked for a way
While under a tree
Came great joy and peace
Enlightenment had made his mind free
With a noble path of eight
And 4 noble truths
He would teach of the many dharma gates
So he told all his friends
of this mighty wisdom
To change the world and make ammends
Just made that one up!
I've only tripped once...
No Acid, No Shrooms...
I can't handle tripping...my mind is to weird on its own. lol I really don't think I would come back if I did it again..
Plus I like my body being pure with no chemicals to fog my mind. ^_^
I have to say though indecline that your poem about DXM is dead on it..and I agree you have to be there and actually experience it. Well done!
However, I would not recommend it...