The Enlightened 1

What's sad is that her soul appeared empty. Whats even sadder is that she knew there was a hole there but she didn't know what was supposed to be there. In no way could she sense that her Life was missing and had taken leave of her and her surroundings. The brain wiring had been altered and the shell that was left was bereft of Light and coded with misconceptions and contradictions. She wisked around the wedding reception, glowing in acceptance of all the male glances she received. The wolves circled around a dress that was a bit too short and the cleavage that provided a look familiar to her nursing son. She basked in the attention, egging it on, but not truly understanding that wolves are attracted to fear and weakness and those slow to good decisions. I watched as the soulless attention was simply mirroring the soul she lacked. It seems to be a misconception that wolves do not study their prey. It is always assumed that wolves are inarticulate and lack the mental capaci...

That black thundercloud likes to hover over my house In darkening radiance it radiates like the radiation used to kill cancer or just kill or maybe the light is that semi-radiant light that keeps dry cow burgers even drier Don't mind that hovering thundercould over my car It likes to race me to work like I'm the antelope and it is the cheetah of the Nat Geo miniseries but I just stay steady on the pedal and cut on the windshield wipers ahead of the downpour That overwhelming thundercloud doesn't mean any harm It just waits for your face to change expression as it hides the sun but through the darkness sun shards shine through and the smile on my face embraces the thundercloud so that its darkness will inform me when Light is near... The bold insinuation was stifling. How could that pitiful statement come from one so close. Years of friendship and hard times and cold days and cold food drew us together. The darkness enfolded my emotions and Sprint lost the connection bef...

His lady fine dines at five star places, caviar and lobster dinners My lady just gets a meal I prepared, in front of the fire in winter His lady gets diamonds, and tanzanite and custom jewels to wear My lady only gets a flower I picked to put in her hair His lady drives foreign cars and takes trips around the world My lady only gets a vacation when I spend Saturdays with our little girl His lady has unlimited credit cards and money as high as a mountain's peak My lady only gets the pay earned from the sweat of my brow every week His lady has armed security, armored cars and bulletproof jeeps My lady only has the prayers I whisper daily as I watch her sleep His lady has hundreds of dresses, many colors, all laundered and pressed My lady only has that one simple black dress that turns her into a princess His lady gets the world, any material object she can dream or can see My lady only gets a man who loves her for her and my heart unconditionally...

See the way her shoulders bend... They seem to be carrying an invisible load The bones of those shoulder blades Seem to be carrying the cries of her daughter The appear to be holding up her son's fears of manhood Those seemingly weak shoulders... Appear to be keeping her sister's frail mind from wandering It seems they are holding up the soul of grandmother in a field of cotton They seem to be sustaining coldness in her husband's heart How do those bended shoulders... Hold up with the passing of a loved one Take care of her friend when her own home is in tatters Allow her brother to lean on her when he is out of work Those shoulders, Those bended shoulders of womanhood that strap on the world Those lowly shoulders that keep the cold of the world out Those patient shoulders that grow boys into men Those loving shoulders that carry girls into sisterhood I can see, quite clearly now, That those shoulders are always bended But never broken...

Those visionaries brought visions of tradition and past crimes Sad times and happy days of new life and birth The scent of pecans fallen from trees in fall and the freshness of plums From branches that overlooked the vestige of time I sense the presence; The aura of lives intertwined with every event of life and the Smiles of security that ascend upon my soul at midnight When the body has said goodnight, but the unconscious Focuses keenly on the visionaries and downloads their message Of tears and suffering and triumphs and joy in the Light Completely washing away the dirt and grime of the day, renewing The spirit and singing their verses of a destiny fulfilled in your ear As sweet as the whispers of a new mother to her infant or the faint cooling wind Of hummingbird’s wings after the first rain of spring Take heed and drink thirstily from the wisdom of the trailblazers lest Their testimony not be a balm to the wounds of your spirit and their Watchful eyes go unnoticed as assuredly as ...

From Stonehenge we’ve shown men To zone in, winds change as leaves die Demons continue to coach sin Open the left palm, bring the soul close in Whisper fear…spoken…faith…broken I hope then we show them In true signs and tokens In due time with close kin We are helpless below Him We told them the foe’s grim And victory grows slim But be bold when hope’s thin And behold the soul wins….

I wasn't given the mortar from the Architect. The tools I have are not sharp enough or accurate enough to fix what needs to be repaired but I want you to know that if I had been given the tools of the Architect I would mold you from the finest clay and measure your worth in diamonds and fine gems or gold and elements so exotic the periodic table would not be able to comprehend the composition and maybe add some stardust and a few sunrays and clothe you in the most silvery moonlight or give you the light from the first sunrise after the Architect gave Light and in that light all wisdom would be at the tips of your lips and all knowledge at the base of your fingertips but alas I cannot build the fortress to stop him from hitting you and I cannot conjure a magical shield to deflect his hands striking you and I don't have a potent elixir to stop the confusion that what you are experiencing is love and you accept and you weather the storm and suffer the violence in silence and you t...

The sun shines in slow motion implosions... and eyes wide from souls stolen keep posting keep wishing that your millions existed or bullets had names and words really twisted exquisite in rhythms, wisdom and decisions the experience is always worth less than the mission I insisted to kings that resisted the gleam and permitted the queens to delve in the dream seems the soldiers grow colder I notice the decline deemed older...show's over Time focused then rewind Count highways to the sun byways on the run bypass the king's sun and by Mass you'll need One Indeed son in times like these you'll need a savior, an mp3 player and multi-layered prayers some cry in silence or whine in low tones but walk with blistered toes until the road's shown

The old man has fallen. Cavemen have been defeated and all that's left is weakened shards of a man that once was. Terrible. Devastating. Historical. Most men are not real men anymore. Real man in the sense of pure manly things. Things that say, "never mind him. that's what men do." Not in the noble sense of chivalry or galant braves on horseback willing to die for the cause. This is not the type of manly activities on display here. I will save the lack of great leaders and war counselors and gladiators for another day, another place. A large growing group of men are just not men anymore. This new age of men get manicures and wear an earring in both ears. Pirates who would shiver your timbers if you looked at them wrong had one earring. Huns who would gut you for thinking about defeating Attila had one earring. Now men wear two like showgirls in the saloon at the OK Corral. You should be able to distinguish a man from a woman when they have clothes on. It should ...