I twist into these mournings, daylight saving me from the burning flame of darkness swallowing my emptiness while waves of irony wash over me i am toppled by the days and silently i sit hovering... wondering if i can float this time wandering thru wastelands of my mind picking up the book written by me on the other side of the dream the other side of the dream where it all spins into me... I find all the lost notes and all the lost tones and all the lost fractures of all my mended bones
I am painted the color red. I am tainted, the mother has bled
we D R I P together thru the weathered web, creating worlds in our head, to spew out into the ethers, to want neither this nor that nor wonder where its at, but to birth the beginning again.... knowing we are just seasons of rhyme
flowering in our own time chrysalis, wrapped up in a fairytale of all that is and was and wasn't for sale...
Across these moonbeams, these split seams, these written clingings to the dream.... across all these we call to invisible bodies that are singing in their invisible moments that are bringing their soulstuffs into existence to balance the tension of the desire to Be, and to not Be....
and therein....lie......We.... somewhere in between.
May the Mirror be Faced With new reCognition A New I born From repetition Of ancient sounds Burrowed deep Within the blessed soul Who sleeps Upon the wheel Of premonition That pokes and prods This sacred mission Of god-in-hiding To forgive the Mind That cries inside him Divided into whither And whence Perched upon hallowed fence That splits the world From Sight and Sense The rebirth of Light In the newly born Sun Til the Name has no number Not even The One May the Mirror be Faced With new reCognition A New l born From repetition
We stand at the border of choice and chasm Are these painful platitudes simply spasms Uploading consciousness into the Drive The Masters' Disastrous Path to the Hive Current See is Redundancy as currents bleed Reality from the veins of the You and the Me Via manipulated mind maze gathering slaves Sustained SineWave notations digging Graves Neural intrepidation saturating the Film Biophotonic regurgitation of bionic Whims Intention is the Blood and flood of Becoming As HeartBeats Synchronic feats of drumming 5GoD Grids tuning the etherSpheres Directs crystal dimensional sonic Tears Media(L) Mirrors torture terrified Players Nerves Firing Burning through layers To initiate the New level of the Game Output generated from Aeons of Shame Hysteria operating thru blasphemous blame While terrified CreatorGods forget their Name Human Beings Becoming shadowSelves Bodies forgetting wherefore they dwell Lose their Spin and Vascilate in vain Boundaries obliterated thru HiveMind Stain And here is the Time and here is the Now Are we Ready to nurse from the Sacred Cow? Absorbed in the Milky Way of Silky Space Into the womb of our Being and Seeing, or Will HiveMind homogenize the Sovereign Spirit?
~Charleen Johnston 3-20-2020
(First word in each line makes a fractal of my rhyme) ( formatting may alter)
“I’m with the That One I’m with the This One UnFriend Me Now If You’re not with The Same One”
Why say such, it’s lack of courage If you want to break the Tie with Others Just Do It… Do it Blatantly, hit that button Tip tap those keys Delete the Imaginary Friendship That lives behind the Dumbscreen Stop asking the Other To do the job for you Passive aggressive pacification Wrapped up in Delusion
The Eyelids are heavy From Fighting the Fog The Myelin too Thin For the Mind to Behold That which percolates within the Field The ElectroMagnetic Drag that breeds The Sag And breaks the Seal ….leads To broken Lives Within The Lie UnOpened Files in the Hard Drive The Sweet MeatSuit unZips And drips from the Hive “The Land of Milk & Honey” Or the “Best Milk & Bread that Money can buy” Or Steal Human Biofield wrapped up in sudden zeal The frequentSeas sign the deal And Stage The Set As the broken Nets Are all Set To be ReVeiled.
The EyeMage.Is a Script A Synaptic Aleph-Bet Written by Adepts Of the Photonic Neural Net -Working overtime To Hush Little Baby Don’t you Cry And pull the Covers over Sleepy Wittle I~s
Gestation …Jesters Jestating in Rotation Around the wheel Spoke in Was and When Began to Feel Now and Then We Breathe Again Umbilical kin Syncing in The frequent.Seas That split the skin
The Remembering happens After the descent As face in the mirror Lets Go the torment … then the Joy of the Beauty of the Game seeps from the sores to heal the shame
BlissNinja 