Roses and Clovers – January 21st, 2019
A garden is not complete
without roses and clovers.
Too many roses, and it turns monotone,
the beauty quickly wears off.
Too many clovers, and it becomes nonexistant,
barely visible from the rest of the ground,
for the garden would become nothing special
but a bunch of green plants in one place.
But, with roses and clovers,
the garden is given two gifts.
A gift of clarity, and of meaning.
Without these two,
the garden is meaningless, worthless.
For roses and clovers complete it.
Rainbow Romance – January 21st, 2019
I reflect upon seeing her for the first time.
Losing myself in those magenta eyes and blue coat.
Obsessions I obtained over her quickly doubled,
Varying in intensity as the years trekked onwards.
Even though she wasn’t one of us, I still love her so.
Rainbow mane, that mane I could lose myself for days in,
And that sweet voice, whose laughter makes me smile,
Instant joy each and every time I both saw and heard her,
Not worrying about anything else while seeing her company,
But her next, carefully chosen words and expressed emotions,
On top of her amazing physicality, unmatched in both worlds,
Waiting for the time when she can start flying again.
Daring to push her limits with each workout she does,
Amazing stunts performed by nearly nobody ever witnessed.
Seemingly sensual yet athletic and independent nature attracting me.
Heaven, as I know it, has come to me with this bittersweet romance.
Night – January 30th, 2019
I look up at the wonderful heavens above,
who fill me with such delight, their creator
ever so kind and delicate with each dot in
the calming darkness of the sky.
O Luna, I care not if your chilling winter
night makes me join amongst the stars, for
although it freezes my flesh, it surely does
thaw my soul.
Every person turns you a blind eye, wraps
themselves in the searing influence of warmth,
while they lay flat, unacknowledging your
precious stars.
Your misleading nature chills people to sleep,
yet not take advantage of chances for renewal
and prayer.
Folks who only take one type of mental herb
each and every night out of thousands possible.
Their spiritual potential only a starved
seed, taught to never grow under the
night’s harsh, cold, yet calming and
tranquil air.
Luna, I thank your stars, your influence,
your mystique. The air around us grows
warm as we grow still, our souls expand
while our bodies contract.
If only I know how high I could reach,
to touch the stars.
Reincarnation – February 20th, 2019
Unending darkness surrounds the cosmos,
the blackness as cold and indifferent
as a body decomposed deep in the soil.
Then, drops of seemingly small fire
Warm, thriving spheres fill the void
violent and active.
Even smaller drops of fire appear
fulfilling the basest desires, linear movement.
Consuming, Creating, Destroying. Rinse and repeat.
The fires growing in size, more clarity visible,
they begin to exchange logic and order with each other,
Having the power to make themselves burn brighter.
Pitted against each other, flame against flame,
Destruction ensues, flames become brighter,
while others flicker. The giant ball flickers.
The giant’s flame extinguishes, so too
the others follow. Noticeably other giants
and their combatting brothers follow suit.
Soon, unending darkness surrounds the cosmos
the blackness as cold and indifferent
as a body decomposed deep in the soil.
Consuming, creating, destroying.
Rinse and repeat.
Nothing lasts forever against the void.
My mirror – April 17th, 2019
My mirror reflects the world I face,
when bathed in light, everything becomes clearer.
It sends messages of ‘saving grace’,
and although not perfect, those goals seem nearer.
But when the mirror is at its darkest,
That is where true creation takes space,
For when man is asleep during harvest,
the Father can allow creation to take place.
When man leaves the seeds placed from harvest,
they will reap the fruits with no haste.
Separated by Dust – July 9th, 2019
From within she walked and looked to me,
though it seemed we would never be together,
for she seemed eternally separated from me
by these dusty bonds which seemingly last forever.
No matter how many times I look within to her
She remains distant and hard to reach,
This fleshy catacomb of eternal death to separate us further
The animated world to count our souls separate each.
But forever might life seem
to shake and promote material greed
I know life to be but a dream
for within my imagination lies the seed.
To no longer be bound by limits of greed, wrath, or lust,
for we will be no longer
separated by dust.
The last remaining thread – July 29th, 2019
I love her although she never sees me,
I call out to her although she never hears me,
Her beauty knows no bounds,
Carrying the finality of fidelity,
She might call out to me but I cannot follow her.
A small link between our minds, we pull towards each other
Almost bearing no bounds. But I cannot feel her presence,
I cannot see, I cannot reach, nor hear clearly.
This barrier of flesh, bone, and broth separates us,
With constant animated death, and mystical illusions.
Both of us separated by little more than death and destruction,
We suffer every day because of the seemingly hopeless endeavor.
Yet there is one piece of hope remaining, the last frontier,
As there is one thread connecting us together,
Even bypassing the world of rotting flesh, hope, and imagination.
Her Fiefdom – February 10th, 2022
She strikes through the blinding horrid night,
To guide the burning, fire forward,
Towards the sky! To carry its warmth,
As long as their faith in her is sealed,
There will be ever burning passion!
Her kingdom will allow fruits to grow.
Rejuvenating, relaxing red
Oranges plenty, yellow fruits bear
Greens for the gardens, graze a plenty
Beneath the watchful sky, held his hand.
Across the violet seas of Pisces
Her kingdom made in its final days,
Everlasting warmth and expansion.
Swirl's Thoughts 