Communication made hard not good,
do not disturb what's 'round.
A foreign place that seems so real,
an infant raised embrace.
Shock of strength, her age doth wane.
A Doctor she does need.
Do you bury or do you smoke?
Sunk from deep within.
Rounding corner, behind closed door,
a gentle, scary view!
One eyed man: Tall like you,
a ghost like white at night.
Giving way in threatening means;
He walks towards wrong young girl.
I turn to sight a hall with more,
I hit a common being.
Turning yet once more the light,
a bright and blinding path.
No! No! "He screams," in hands appeal,
fell backwards in dismay.
Running rage of backwards Sage,
I see the sight of You.
I follow all to sleepless fall
to recognize the view.
Squishing human bodies for the comfort of the stuff.
Padding mattresses with Seers Poems,
"What the fuck are you?"
Why? Too!
I saw it in a dream.
Miniature, trapped by hate, by Man? or is it more?
Where lies this place that I do see?
Small containers, Isolation? One and singular in spot.
Waiting for gifts from heaven,
know its just a strange , weird chute.
A physician reaches for your head, saying, "Who are you?"
Quickly leaving, out I go; to the trees, the Redwoods sway.
An Ocean delights in just one wave,
a Tidal Pool display.
The Bridge won't cross, a Golden Gate,
the waters through this point.
A swamping of this rocky place,
over the top, I one!
Searching, looking for Nature's Child,
she screams, "I'm over here."
I see you sweets, the Sycamore,
breezing Wind my way.
Hold still, don't move, I freeze myself.
Mother Nature speaks the truth,
a gentle, soft, embracing hug she says with lots of love,
"I will come to you!!"
a gentle, soft, embracing hug she says with lots of love,
"I will come to you!!"
Do not speak, this language lost,
to Eternity and Time?
Will you say, once again,
"The grass, the grain is mute."
A whisper of my nature speaks,
"Let go, don't hold to this!"
The spin of green, the shock of lean;
the fat just must not go.
A little extra, pads the way.
Forcing hands of Old.
Poetic Seers ring whats true,
to falsify the test.
Passing only to barely miss,
this miniaturized Hell with You.
The Forests sing, a National Hymn,
"People seem behind."
"Is it Heaven or is it here?"
a celestial battle cry.
Your business not: I plea to thee,
"Back off this disagree."
Not only is it overhead
but, nothing to do with your be!
Mere Human Beings, Humanity and maybe people too.
You shove concern in Godly turns,
your invasion of whats not yours.
I think not, Nature screams again,
"Creation is my friend, destroy what walks upright on two;
and make it seem relieved."
This fight, this spat, between what is,
remarks your vicious sight.
Become not blind and have no mind
if all you do is from a screw
to sport or hurt the few.
For when you close your eyes at Eve,
a third lid opens too.
I will see through, don't confuse,
she sleeps so soundly, Lew!
My dear friend Moon, from distant Stars,
the one I see you two.
Please repair and run from there,
for Elenin is threw.
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