reincarnation

Sines

 

Mountains and valleys 

Holding chill and sweat. 

Deserts and oases 

Lacking and flooding life. 

Nightmares and dreamscapes 

Of terror and wonder. 

 

Up then down

And up again. 

Pillaged and 

Plundering yet. 

Exalted 

And salty still. 

 

Ups and downs,

Backs and forths,

Joys and pains,

Peaks and troughs. 

 

Frequencies 

And wavelengths 

Not only of 

Life and death, 

But of here 

And after,

Before here,

And hereafter.


Sines of life. 

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Rebirth

Folder: 
Confessions

“Who is he?”

I whisper to myself

as your eyes gaze off to the distance

and treat me with the unbearable silence

I’m a little too late, I guess,

I hear your eyes scream, they confess

It is him who holds your heart

The one you’d rather hold your hand

Under the city lights

In a cold November night

 

But my love for you is greater than his.

 

So do the honor and list down the things

you so liked about him

Watch me burn myself with a pile of leaves

and reborn as him

Just let me be your light, your candle tonight

I can be him, your lover, if you like

I’ll cut my wrist, drain the blood my ancestors

passed on to me

Replace it with the words he whispers

when I’m not around

Let his words flow down my veins so you may speak

and tell me all the things you never say to me

Slit my throat with the screen of the phone you use

To capture his face, his smile, the perfection, your muse

Because you never even once

took a picture of me

— or maybe my image is just

too hideous for you to keep?

What strength of lens does he use, you say?

I can smash mine down if it’s not the same

Use the shards to peel off my skin I so badly hate

Blessed is he to have the kind that keeps you sane

I’ll unclench my claws I’ve spent years to build

Pull them out and mold me his hands and feet

Let the blood spritz all over the room

Let them spell: HERE LIES A HOLY FOOL,

WHO SURRENDERED HIMSELF FOR LOVE —

BECAUSE HIS LOVE WAS NEVER ENOUGH.

Tell my mother I died a sweetest death

And I’ll be waiting in line in the Day of Resurrect

Pour out the gasoline all over my corpse for the final touch

Say a short Ignatian prayer before you strike the match

Watch my skin; watch my veins turn to ash, turn to dust,

as I’m enveloped and swallowed by flames

‘Cause I’m tired of fighting, I’m tired of asking,

“Who is Carl, baby? I’m James.”

 

From now on, call me Carl.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A poem about wanting and loving someone so much you are willing to turn yourself into someone else.

A Falling Leaf

Laying under an Oak tree one sunny day
A falling Leaf caught my eye as it floated away
It floated solemnly through the sky as if to imitate a feather
Only you can guess the season by this one, and perhaps even the weather

For we all know that the leafs begin to fly away at the first of fall
So that a new leaf may begin to sprout in spring, this I recall
So by that leaf much can be learned by the watchful eye
We know for instance as it floats to the ground it is its time to die

Nature’s cycle nears its end for this little guy afloat
So that he may decay and nurture life, so I've seen it wrote
We know that he began as a lively and radiant autumn leaf
And that he danced in the wind, and played in the rain so brief

Now his time has ended, yet he is still a part of natures plan
For as he fertilizes the grass, he is reincarnated somewhere throughout the land
Perhaps now he has become a spry blade of grass or even a flower
Perhaps a small insect or even a tree that may tower

No matter what lesson you learn from that falling leaf
You are sure to remember that life is really brief
So dance in the wind and play in the rain
Enjoy this life while you can, your destiny lies on that plain

P.S. We all become fertilizer in the end!

By: Wayne Hoss

Cage Of Ribs

Folder: 
Buddhism


Cage Of Ribs

 

user img


Desire draws one

into a future crib

... the soul encased

in a cage of ribs.


-saiom shriver-

 

http://www.greenmuze.org/wp-content/uploads/2014/09/baby-nursery-winnie-the-pooh-paintings-700x460.jpg

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Reincarnated

I always thought it was impossible for a person to reincarnate but I learned that they can.

After I died, I reincarnated but I didn't come back to life as a man.

I came back to life as a dog and my wife is my owner.

Even though I'm a dog, she still gives me a boner.

I was shocked when I looked in the mirror and saw that I'm a Saint Bernard.

Some times my wife tries to date men but I chase them and I bite them hard.

When I was a Human, I had elegance and class.

But last night I bit a chunk out of a man's ass.

Certain things put me in a bad mood.

One of which is having to eat Dog Food.

Being near my wife is intoxicating and it's sure to please.

But I'm about to itch to death because of these damn fleas.

I'll stop my wife from dating men until I die, that's what I'll do.

If you ever try to date my wife, I'll take a big chunk out of you.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

This is a fictional poem.

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Seamstress

Folder: 
Poems

Split seams untangle the web I weaved

Releasing all the stories untold; havoc soon unfolds.

The walls built over the years, softening my fears

Crumble into ash and dust, all in one single thrust.

Not by violence or force; but by an act of remorse.

Shriveling under the weight of the web, a feeble yelp.

All it took was one word. Help.

Help it seemed was a sign of weakness, almost evil,

How can one ask to put pain on other people?

Now with the walls down, and the light shining in,

Strength is in numbers, we all share the same skin.

These walls weren't protecting, there is no enemy

Instead it was a prison, a trap-mentally.

With the web untangled and the barriers blown by the zephyr,

My fellow seamstresses will help weave this web back- together.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Finally getting the help I need.

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