The Ocean's Empire

I live in the sea,

An empire heaved from blameless armies.

Surrounded by deep,

Radiating waves of silent sleep.

Hushed groans fabricate holes into the dark,

Forgetful remarks.

This careless life wasn’t proposed for waste.

Hope in thoughtful taste.

As I start to swim,

Towards the heavens to find more within,

I admit the light,

With this darkness, was endearing the fight.

There is something more than this entrapment.

No more to lament.

I see the light that was here all along.

Beckoning my song.

Forgetting the gloom,

Redeeming the sight of all that was doomed.

The bars were unlocked,

Leaving my foes in their remorse and shock.

Radiating waves of silent sleep,

Surrounded by deep.

An empire heaved from blameless armies,

I lived in the sea.

The King Beetle on a Coconut Estate by mewithoutYou

As the moon rose and the hour grew late
The day-help on the coconut estate
Raked up the dried leaves that fell dead from the trees
Which they burned in a pile by the lake

The beetle king summoned his men
And from the top of the rhododendron stem,
"Calling all volunteers who can carry back here
The Great Mystery has been lit once again"

One beetle emerged from the crowd
In a fashionable abdomen shroud
Said, "I'm a professor, you see, that's no mystery to me
I'll be back soon, successful and proud"

But when the beetle professor returned,
He crawled on all six, as his wings had been burned
And described to the finest detail all he'd learned
There was neither a light, nor a heat, in his words

The deeply dissatisfied king
Climbed the same stem to announce the same thing
But in his second appeal sought to sweeten the deal
With a silver padparadscha ring

The lieutenant stepped out from the line
As he lassoed his thorax with twine
Thinking, "I'm stronger and braver and I'll earn the king's favor
One day all he has will be mine"

But for all the lieutenant's conceit
He too returned singed and admitting defeat
"I had no choice, please believe, but retreat
It was bright as the sun, but with ten times the heat

And it cracked like the thunder and bloodshot my eyes
Though smothered with sticks, it advanced undeterred
Carelessly cast an ash cloud to the sky, my lord
Like a flock of dark vanishing birds"

The beetle king slammed down his fist
"Your flowery description's no better than his!
We sent for the great light and you bring us this?
We didn't ask what it seems like, we asked what it is!"

His majesty's hour at last is drawn nigh
The elegant queen took her leave from his side
Without understanding, but without asking why
She gathered their kids to come bid their goodbyes

And the father explained, "You've been somewhat deceived
You've all called me your dad, but your true Dad's not me
I lay next to your mom and your forms were conceived
Your Father's the light within all that you see

He fills up the ponds as He empties the clouds
Holds without hands and He speaks without sounds
He provides us with the cow's waste and coconuts to eat
Giving one that nice salt taste, and the other its sweet

Sends the black carriage the day death shows its face
Thinning our numbers with kindness and grace
And just as a flower and its fragrance are one
So must each of you and your Father become

Now distribute my scepter, my crown, and my throne
And all we've known as wealth to the poor and alone"
Without further hesitation, without looking back home
The king flew headlong into the blazing unknown

And as the smoke ring hurled higher and higher
The troops flying loops around the telephone wires
They said, "Our beloved's not dead, but his highness instead
Has been utterly changed into fire"

Why not be utterly changed into fire?
Why not be utterly changed into fire?
Why not be utterly changed into fire?
Why not be utterly changed into fire?

The Well

Grey and silent, the morning crept upon Jare with no emotion. To awake would be difficult, for he was not adapted to such an environment that put him to rest in the first place. After Jare regained a morning’s nature, he glanced at his depiction of where the sun would be, although it could not be seen by anyone. His eyes fixated upon a dark cloud, which remained in the sky like a painting.
Thoughts began to wake and movement was birthed about Jare’s body. His eyes glared at his uniform alerting him of his need to go to work. Jare, with no emotion or physical state, placed his clothes on and headed to work: A security office in LA; an occupation of his childhood dreams.
Something wasn’t right. Jare was confused, but didn’t know why. He could not remember anyone’s name; yet he recognized everyone. He could not remember what he should do; yet he did everything with a natural talent. He could not sense emotion with anyone surrounding him; yet he found himself communicating as if it were his gift. The sky never changed. The clouds remained in place as well as the mood for the day. Nothing seemed like it was happening. Jare could not separate this day as reality. Work continued at this state until the day was over.
Although the clock read ten at night, the sky looked the same as it did at ten in the morning. Jare prepared for bed as was his routine. But out of peculiarity, Jare was not able to remember his routine, one that he kept up for over ten years. His room looked different. The bed was in one place, then another; almost as if it moved itself at his every glance. The lights in his room flickered, and his bathroom was cold and wet. Jare glanced at his tub and noticed the overflow of a bath water to which he had never started. He grabbed towels and forcefully shut the bath water off, yet the room was still filling. The lights kept flickering, and then they shut off, leaving Jare alone and wet. He glanced at the sky yet again.
Jare closed his eyes, hoping this was all a dream. As soon as he opened them, he found himself staring at the same cloud, but this time, he found himself at the bottom of a pit. The sky was grey and dark; he was more familiar with his personal state. Water was filling this pit, which directed his sight upwards to only see the grey clouds that were in his other vision. Water filled, the night darkened. He closed his eyes one last time and prayed this was all just a dream.
This was the last prayer.
This was the last breath.

A Shot in the Dark (Perspective 2)

Who else knows of this feeling?

Where anger immediately grasps you who are not,

Then vigorously mutes the peace.

I never meant to practice my impatience;

I never meant to run away.

But the pain seems impressible.

I took upon my irascibility and ran into more darkness.

Seemed to feel right at the time.

I tried to pierce the darkness that surrounded me.

Then the noise was pursued by a bursting scream.

Seems that darkness was not the only thing this anger captured.

I didn't mean to be impressible.

A Shot in the Dark

Who else knows of this feeling?

When penetration overcomes the feeling of simplicity.

I wanted the feeling of simplicity to overtake the feeling of this loneliness.

Now this penetration, this pain comes from the unknown.

Loud pain screams out to the point where it was first escaped.

But the tones seem impressible.

Who else knows of this feeling?

Where point of entrance forces a feeling of escape.

It was once nothing, then sporadic pain began to proceed.

I still don't know where this shot came from, but it was too late.

The loud pain ceases. It drowns in the memory of who I have become.

But the pain seems impressible.

Your Head Is On Fire

A soul longing to be
Set ablaze with Holy Fire.
Consuming from the inside out
A fire of Your desire.

A Holy downpour
My soul never goes in drought.
A fire of Your desire
Consuming from the inside out.

A soul cleansed white as snow,
Even the dirtiest liar.
Consuming from the inside out
A fire of Your desire.

Only by You, Lord,
Will you remove all doubt.
A fire of Your desire
Consuming from the inside out.

Oh Lord, let me be
Set ablaze with Your Holy Fire.
Consume me from the inside out,
So I can be a fire of Your desire.

The Flood

A Single yet subtle innocent stream
Being nurtured day by day with downpours.
This will begin to expand at the seams;
This child like water right at its core.

Now beginning to look like lovely threats,
This stream expands in pure community
Tearing down walls and breaking off regret,
Ruining cities into pure beauty.

A flood, built only by hands of grace,
Overflows with a cleansing desire.
A desire to flood through and to chase
After those with a passion and fire.

Nations now ruined by a harsh, pure flood.
A flood that stole hearts away from the earth.
This world now covered with the gift of blood
Because a stream was destined to at birth.

Window Man

The man in the window can see
The lines shared between you and me.
He sits and continues to wait,
Determining our proposed fate.

We look and glimpse a silhouette,
Retrace and conclude no one met.
Hindered safety, a lowered trait
Determining our proposed fate.

There every morning and all night,
On and off, a peculiar sight;
Providing a still, heavy state,
Determining our proposed fate.

The lives we live, so envious,
Shows a cover of greediness.
The man, who stares with eyes that hate,
Determining our proposed fate.

[Poem is a Kyrielle...Rhyme scheme is aabB, ccbB, ddbB, eebB.]