Sacred. Holy. One week to press
with the weight of a half thousand years
i confess
so many months deluged with so many hundred tears
will we find our way home
or the renaissance of our fears?
half of no one really cares or cares
to think about her
that girl who left her bike locked to the school bike rack
yesterday. helmet like a cradle still
hanging from the lock.
fifteen & this young american life
came to kick - and then a
stand still.
Don't get me started. Cause i understand the pain. I feel it tonight just worse than ever. I am tired. Half insane. Weary men and women listen! Cause we are here. Well, some of y'all will listen-- those who have enough left to hear. And other unidentified walking objects get a shout out. Dripping off the gate like morning dew. Cradled by the wind. Back to source through the air. Message in a stare.
Like those before us, we shall be tracked by tracking systems until we can be tracked no more. Then we are lost or free. or both, if both may be... just not downgraded to immobile media coverage task. Just not downloaded. Not forced into play. Just not packaged with advertisements. God help us that we not be, no way.
i confess
so many months deluged with so many hundred tears
will we find our way home
or the renaissance of our fears?
half of no one really cares or cares
to think about her
that girl who left her bike locked to the school bike rack
yesterday. helmet like a cradle still
hanging from the lock.
fifteen & this young american life
came to kick - and then a
stand still.
Don't get me started. Cause i understand the pain. I feel it tonight just worse than ever. I am tired. Half insane. Weary men and women listen! Cause we are here. Well, some of y'all will listen-- those who have enough left to hear. And other unidentified walking objects get a shout out. Dripping off the gate like morning dew. Cradled by the wind. Back to source through the air. Message in a stare.
Like those before us, we shall be tracked by tracking systems until we can be tracked no more. Then we are lost or free. or both, if both may be... just not downgraded to immobile media coverage task. Just not downloaded. Not forced into play. Just not packaged with advertisements. God help us that we not be, no way.
No time for us to be distracted, to be distracted eats up time. Take your files and get in line, steady forward to the task. Every sector in the urban 50 mile sprawl must be covered, just in case they ask. The year might be 2027. Or it may as well have been. So far gone and yet far ahead of them. We meet in present time, of course, in future time united. By spirits of our past, energetically protected.
The pharmacological solution for weariness is just to reach market! Her derivatives non-narcotic, uncontrolled solution. Spirits, triple variables, this is the scenario! One constant holding ground like an anchor pressed into the seafloor, forever, into dissolution. Reunification with source spells the end of all fragmentation: the death knell of pollution!
Source is sacred. Spiritual energy. Anchored in the message. Means running around in circles searching and searching no more. No longer feeling lonely, but going out with courage. Encouraged! Where loneliness gets discouraged. Where death cannot flourish. Keep moving! Dropping to the hardwood floor. Dripping your feelings fast between planks.
Bye bye to Loneliness. Its confidence tanks. Its global toxicity becomes local then less. Human duplicity fades away, falling between the spokes of true unitive success. Girl, the world aint pretty when you're all fragments. Its sharp and cuts us something terrible. by means agonizing. Tragically meant. Self-inflicted. Self-dealt. Other-played. Universally-felt.
Our world she gets broken apart, polluted and cut into, whether or not we or you think it's a sin to. Then she's swirled together like Missouri, Joplin weather. Disconsonant elements, mashed through and through.
Sacred if you accept it, if you will
through and through
Turns black to red to blue and back to black again
like a dragon tattoo
The flavor like white stripes to
detroit heights. Up to the upper peninsula!
Hike and hike your skirt, and plant your self directly in the maelstrom
In the center of the maelstrom of your life
Where
we may feel
the luxury of the life
through
the message
in
a stare.
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