The Edge Of Darkness

Standing at the edge of darkness
I wonder where the light is
No shadows
No stars
Not even the band of gold which follows a sunset
Before me there is simply nothing
Behind me everything I knew is gone
No longer existing even in my memory
There are no grays or blues
Not even differing shades of black
Sounds of screams
Shrieks of pain travel an eternity before they reach me
Yet, no matter how I strain I cannot see their source
Before long I sit on what I assume is rock
My senses trick me
Making me see things that are not there
Never were there
Yet, sitting in the total darkness I am content
There is no one to hurt me
No one to lie to me
No one to leave me
As far as I can tell pain and hurt is centuries away
Knowing that one thing
I can finally be happy just sitting in the dark

When And Why

Concepts of right and wrong
White and black without the shades of grey
Where did those ideas come from?
Whose warped mind divided the world into two?
Murder is murder unless it is done on a battlefield?
Killing an unborn child is ok but only until it is born
It is okay for people to starve
But it isn't legal to steal a love of bread to feed a family
Pets are left to waste away on the sides of the road
Or take them to a shelter and have them kill it for you
After all…it is painless to die
Animals can die for sport as long as they die running
It is okay as long as they don't fight
People can be crippled for sport
It brings in the money
But we are told that it is not right to inflict injury
As long as the owners count their millions
It is alright to be a man until a woman wants your job
It is alright to be a woman until a foreigner takes your job
When did the world become so segmented?
So indecisive about what is right and wrong
When did we screw it all up?

Jennifer is looking out over the valley
the stroboscopic valley
where the trees sleep
in their cocoons of rime ice and hoarfrost

each tree reflecting the maelstrom
above the world
the belly of the night ripped
by that most brutal of the primal forces
cut by electricity
say the word
it sizzles on your tongue
Electricity!

a blind mindless lightning snake
it strikes the earth
rending and twisting the fires within
pulling hellfire into the sky

Jennifer is not afraid of lightning
she is fascinated
by the mad rending above the world
each strike is a thrill
each peal of thunder makes her heart beat faster

she feels the heat on her bare shoulder
she feels the weight of the stones lifted
against gravity
she says nothing. . .

i would touch her
wake her
hold her
  against the darkness
but she dose not want me to

i can offer her nothing as intense as her dream
can't protect her from herself
can't touch her without hurting her

startling her will shatter her dream sky
will violate her dark reverie
and she will not love me
if i wake her

she does not love me in this dream either
but she lets me be here
she lets me watch over her
she allows me. . .

perchance i am but a specter
a chimera she patched from her other lovers
a patch bandage over a dirty wound

and so i must watch
without interfering
i must bear witness
in the telling that will come
i must bear the sorrow
of her Grand Self-destruction

but don't ask me not to cry
that would be the unkindest thing of all


Quixotic as ever



William C. Burns, Jr.

chyfrin437@...





my life? . . .

throw in a few flying zombies

and you'd have an episode of Dr. Who











[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

4/15/2011
(for Reed, on the Day of Silence)

Today, the Day of Silence,
I'm observing silence
On Facebook, with others,
Yet again.

And yet again,
One of them in the social net
Shared an artifact - a record,
Via video, of Matthew Shepard
As he was in life.

I knew only that fragile face
Shattered under a wide Wyoming sky.
I can only guess that he was lonely,
And seeking friends, trusted two
And went with them
To be robbed, and beaten,
And tortured,
And left to die.

That fragile face
Battered beyond recognizing as
Anything human,
When he was found
The next evening,
Still tied to a prairie fence,
Looking like a scarecrow.

Beyond speaking,
Beyond consciousness,
Beyond life,
His silence continued
Day after day after day
After day
Until
After five days
He died.

His voice,
On the brief video,
In those few words,
Is light, and soft,
And breaks my heart,
Speaking of a small gay group,
Not very active,
At conservative Catawba College:

A shy young man,
A little awkward, smiling,
Speaking lightly
A very few words
With a voice
That thunders now
Down a dozen years,
Across oceans -
And still,
Though stilled,
Beneath a lonely sky,
Will speak on in multitudes:
Matthew Shepard did not die.

============================
c.  2011  Todd Eliot


<%20%20%20http://joshalot.com/2009/12/2009-and-hate-crimes-old-video-of-\
matt/>

<%20%20%20http://joshalot.com/2009/12/2009-and-hate-crimes-old-video-of-\
matt/>
http://joshalot.com/2009/12/2009-and-hate-crimes-old-video-of-matt/
<http://joshalot.com/2009/12/2009-and-hate-crimes-old-video-of-matt/>

This particular composite image of Matthew Shepard includes, in the
background, the X-style fencing where he was left to die.
   NOTE:  This brief video footage was taken as part of a documentary on
Senator  Jesse Helms, the most notorious anti-gay legislator of the
Reagan era  (my youth).   Matthew Shepard's happen-stance appearance in
it seems, to  me, a "coincidence" that should not go unremarked.

   TSE




[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

That was so beautiful anmd moving. Thank you. Love and blessings. Janine
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry

-----Original Message-----
From: "Todd" <toddsurfslbca@...>
Sender: PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com
Date: Sat, 16 Apr 2011 04:51:13
To: <PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com>
Reply-To: PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com
Subject: [Pagan Poets Society] Day of Silence II

4/15/2011
(for Reed, on the Day of Silence)

Today, the Day of Silence,
I'm observing silence
On Facebook, with others,
Yet again.

And yet again,
One of them in the social net
Shared an artifact - a record,
Via video, of Matthew Shepard
As he was in life.

I knew only that fragile face
Shattered under a wide Wyoming sky.
I can only guess that he was lonely,
And seeking friends, trusted two
And went with them
To be robbed, and beaten,
And tortured,
And left to die.

That fragile face
Battered beyond recognizing as
Anything human,
When he was found
The next evening,
Still tied to a prairie fence,
Looking like a scarecrow.

Beyond speaking,
Beyond consciousness,
Beyond life,
His silence continued
Day after day after day
After day
Until
After five days
He died.

His voice,
On the brief video,
In those few words,
Is light, and soft,
And breaks my heart,
Speaking of a small gay group,
Not very active,
At conservative Catawba College:

A shy young man,
A little awkward, smiling,
Speaking lightly
A very few words
With a voice
That thunders now
Down a dozen years,
Across oceans -
And still,
Though stilled,
Beneath a lonely sky,
Will speak on in multitudes:
Matthew Shepard did not die.

============================
c.  2011  Todd Eliot


<%20%20%20http://joshalot.com/2009/12/2009-and-hate-crimes-old-video-of-\
matt/>

<%20%20%20http://joshalot.com/2009/12/2009-and-hate-crimes-old-video-of-\
matt/>
http://joshalot.com/2009/12/2009-and-hate-crimes-old-video-of-matt/
<http://joshalot.com/2009/12/2009-and-hate-crimes-old-video-of-matt/>

This particular composite image of Matthew Shepard includes, in the
background, the X-style fencing where he was left to die.
   NOTE:  This brief video footage was taken as part of a documentary on
Senator  Jesse Helms, the most notorious anti-gay legislator of the
Reagan era  (my youth).   Matthew Shepard's happen-stance appearance in
it seems, to  me, a "coincidence" that should not go unremarked.

   TSE




[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]




[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Thank you.  I think there was a Muse involved.

But I realize that the image didn't transfer, so I'll post it to the photos
section.

Peace,

- T -

--- In PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com, ladyawen143@... wrote:
>
> That was so beautiful anmd moving. Thank you. Love and blessings. Janine
> Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: "Todd" <toddsurfslbca@...>
> Sender: PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com
> Date: Sat, 16 Apr 2011 04:51:13
> To: <PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com>
> Reply-To: PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com
> Subject: [Pagan Poets Society] Day of Silence II
>
> 4/15/2011
> (for Reed, on the Day of Silence)
>
> Today, the Day of Silence,
> I'm observing silence
> On Facebook, with others,
> Yet again.
>
> And yet again,
> One of them in the social net
> Shared an artifact - a record,
> Via video, of Matthew Shepard
> As he was in life.
>
> I knew only that fragile face
> Shattered under a wide Wyoming sky.
> I can only guess that he was lonely,
> And seeking friends, trusted two
> And went with them
> To be robbed, and beaten,
> And tortured,
> And left to die.
>
> That fragile face
> Battered beyond recognizing as
> Anything human,
> When he was found
> The next evening,
> Still tied to a prairie fence,
> Looking like a scarecrow.
>
> Beyond speaking,
> Beyond consciousness,
> Beyond life,
> His silence continued
> Day after day after day
> After day
> Until
> After five days
> He died.
>
> His voice,
> On the brief video,
> In those few words,
> Is light, and soft,
> And breaks my heart,
> Speaking of a small gay group,
> Not very active,
> At conservative Catawba College:
>
> A shy young man,
> A little awkward, smiling,
> Speaking lightly
> A very few words
> With a voice
> That thunders now
> Down a dozen years,
> Across oceans -
> And still,
> Though stilled,
> Beneath a lonely sky,
> Will speak on in multitudes:
> Matthew Shepard did not die.
>
> ============================
> c.  2011  Todd Eliot
>
>
> <%20%20%20http://joshalot.com/2009/12/2009-and-hate-crimes-old-video-of-\
> matt/>
>
> <%20%20%20http://joshalot.com/2009/12/2009-and-hate-crimes-old-video-of-\
> matt/>
> http://joshalot.com/2009/12/2009-and-hate-crimes-old-video-of-matt/
> <http://joshalot.com/2009/12/2009-and-hate-crimes-old-video-of-matt/>
>
> This particular composite image of Matthew Shepard includes, in the
> background, the X-style fencing where he was left to die.
>   NOTE:  This brief video footage was taken as part of a documentary on
> Senator  Jesse Helms, the most notorious anti-gay legislator of the
> Reagan era  (my youth).   Matthew Shepard's happen-stance appearance in
> it seems, to  me, a "coincidence" that should not go unremarked.
>
>   TSE
>
>
>
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>
>
>
>
> [Non-text portions of this message have been removed]
>

Summer Days

Summer days
Hot and sweltering
Below a burning hot ball of gas
No breezes to cool the land
The lakes steam a bleak grey fog
As the air seeks to evaporate the water below
The coolness of the water
The heat of the unending sun
Bake the bodies lying on the dead lake shore
Some merely skeletons
No flesh or muscle
They tell the stories of many summer days
Too many days of infernal heat
Petite young girls and strong young men
Line the shores in an annual ritual
Naked they turn red and brown as their bodies roast
Cooking ever so neatly in the Earth's oven
They do not feel the heat
They do not see the death which surrounds them
They only see beautiful tan bodies
They see the fun the summer day offers them
God, to be young again and not look around

http://www.midnightblackinternational.com/Poetry.htm

We all remember, September 11, 2001, one we will never forget
Just like December 7, 1941, Pearl Harbor, September 11th, a day that will
forever be in infamy
Almost three thousand innocent lives were lost that day, the memory of this in
stone forever set
Because of radical ideology, some one decided, that death to the infidel was the
key.

That day, we all cried, our hearts going out to the victims and their families
We watched in horror as the Towers, the Pentagon, Shanksville, Pa., all saw a
loss of innocent life
Us thinking, Is this the way it was meant to be?
Just because we believe differently, is this why we had to face death and all
it's strife?

For ten years, an entire decade, we wondered if justice, would we see it's face?
And then without a word, justice was served, and no one suspected, not even a
hint
Us thinking would three thousand souls always be caught between time and space
For a decade for justice we searched, until one night, it all finally ended, the
man, justice was served and sent.

Any loss of human life, is hard to except and understand
But three thousand lives, that one date in history, moved us and affected us all
We are civilized, but three thousand lives for one life, the culprit, to end his
life, we all understand
But a life is a life, but justice was finally served, for the victims, for the
families, for one and for all.

So one spring night, just like a thief in the night, finally justice was served
We took a big chance, but in the end victory was ours
Not happy over another death, but relieved, three thousand could finally rest,
for their justice, we never swerved
Now they can peaceably sleep, justice served for them, justice was ours.

I'm sure the family of the deceased now realizes how wrong this man was, the
pain of losing a loved one
Now the man's family knows the anguish and the pain caused by the grim reaper,
maybe now they know he was not right
Losing a loved one, the most devastating pain under the sun
But eventually justice was finally served in the deep darkness of the night.







  Lanaia

Where are you? Are you in hiding? We know you are here and we know why
Son of Satan, your mother a jacquel, only one name for you, you are the
Antichrist
We watch for you, to deceive us all, telling us you are the one, the one that
reigns on high
But as fore told, you are a liar, a deceiver, to follow you, a person will pay a
mighty high price.

Your trinity, Satan, the Antichrist, and the False Prophet, we have known this
for decades
Always watching for you, because you, everyone wishes to avoid
But according to prophecy, identifying you will be hard, to get people to follow
you, you will not need a knife and it's blade
You will seduce with your words, a great orator, seducing us all, so we won't
know when you we should avoid.

It will be your duty, to lead us all, down an unwanted path, straight to hell
Famine, war, and death, in the end, you will use these as your tools
You will make sure the majority of us, in your father's hose, we all will dwell
By the time we truly know you, it will be too late, by then we will see the lake
of fire and her pool.

We know you are here, but where is it that you hide?
You, the one that will lead us all down a path, a dangerous path, one of no
return
But there is always hope, hope before it is too late, we recognize you, then we
take the right road
I don't think anyone in hell's fire wants to eternally burn.

If we just knew, where you were, you are here, it was fore told
When you do appear, you will fool each and everyone
A scary thought with your seducing ways, you will be very bold
We think we will be so right, but to follow you, will be the biggest mistake
under the sun.

You will mesmerize us all, making us think everything is fine
But in reality at first we won't realize you are from the very depths of hell
The thought is so scary, because at first we won't recognize your design
Scary the son of Satan and the spawn of the Jacquel.

Lanaia

Ours is the oldest dance
and once more we've come
to walk these astral halls
to play ritual games of hide and seek
on the eve of our Beltane.

Ancient lovers run in circles
to behold the virtue of the roles we now play
yet so few remember us these days.

And still I find you there
setting snares for my capture
aghast it took me so long
to remember what you are.

When awake I breathe the toxic fumes
of the dying and former Serpentine
who clouds my vision in the milky white fog
Yet nocturnal slumbers re-unite us
in abysmal reflections of delight.

In spite of the agonies
memories of severe brutality
to which we entreat one another
I would choose to save you
even if just one last time.

Better to put my heart to work
than let it grow cold.
And like the fires of just one
star-gone-Nova
she will tear me down.
For all the savagery and obsession
of my former grey-eyed lover
could never burn half as much
as when my heart overflows,
do I burn myself.

In truth I am told
a love like ours
could raise the deathless ones
and consign me once more
to the bitterness of Oblivion.

Let then, pen to page
be my soma
to path-work my relapse
instead of chemical neuro-stimulators
which only offer death and blindness
to a mind that remembers.

Perhaps my brother was right.

WOW! VERY well done!
Hugs,
Lanaia
 Chat with me at: http://lanaia74.chatango.com

vacationmsg




________________________________
From: tavthe <st4rl0re@...>
To: PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com
Sent: Fri, May 13, 2011 5:22:09 PM
Subject: [Pagan Poets Society] The Forgotten Ones

 


Ours is the oldest dance
and once more we've come
to walk these astral halls
to play ritual games of hide and seek
on the eve of our Beltane.

Ancient lovers run in circles
to behold the virtue of the roles we now play
yet so few remember us these days.

And still I find you there
setting snares for my capture
aghast it took me so long
to remember what you are.

When awake I breathe the toxic fumes
of the dying and former Serpentine
who clouds my vision in the milky white fog
Yet nocturnal slumbers re-unite us
in abysmal reflections of delight.

In spite of the agonies
memories of severe brutality
to which we entreat one another
I would choose to save you
even if just one last time.

Better to put my heart to work
than let it grow cold.
And like the fires of just one
star-gone-Nova
she will tear me down.
For all the savagery and obsession
of my former grey-eyed lover
could never burn half as much
as when my heart overflows,
do I burn myself.

In truth I am told
a love like ours
could raise the deathless ones
and consign me once more
to the bitterness of Oblivion.

Let then, pen to page
be my soma
to path-work my relapse
instead of chemical neuro-stimulators
which only offer death and blindness
to a mind that remembers.

Perhaps my brother was right.




[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Finally after so long I get to take time off, to enjoy the land in New England
I have chosen to spend a few days at the John Stone Inn
People say this place is haunted, but I don't believe this, a way to get
business, something thought up by man
The place, full of history and so beautiful, a lovely place, within beauty's
den.

After arriving there is only a restaurant now, no more rooms do they rent
So I stay a at place very close, because of the beauty, I want to spend as much
time here as I can
I plan on eating here three times a day, it's like fate here me it sent
Not being able to stay here really put a dent in my plan.

First day, everything is just fine, at this beautiful place
But the second day, while enjoying my meal, a bad storm blows up out of no where
The wind, the rain, suddenly a weird feeling, with something I am about to come
face to face
Then I see a small child, she has the biggest eyes, at me all she can do is
stare.

Something strange about her, she is transparent, I can see right straight
through her
Is this a ghost? I feel every hair on my body stand up, is it because I am
feeling you?
I just can't believe this, I didn't think these things could occur
A child, cut down in her prime, how sad, because for you, your choices are very
few.

I was told, yesterday, about a child hit by a train on the nearby railroad
tracks
She was brought here where after suffering, she eventually would die
So young, so innocent, just a child, but death had to attack
I guess she comes back try to find the answer to why she had to die.

I wish I could hold the child, console her, let her know everything is alright
My heart goes out to her, poor thing, no one really hears her plea
I'm not the only one to see her, she has cause several people to experience a
fright
But I'm not afraid of her, I think it is so sad, the poor child's name was Mary.


  Lanaia

I am royal, I am regal, I am Pharaoh of Egypt, I am Cleopatra, the oldest
daughter of Isis
I will do anything to protect my reign, unfortunately even if it means murder
I have two brothers and a younger sister, her name Arsinoe IV, the younger
daughter of Isis
I would make sure nothing to affect my royal reign would occur.

We had different mothers, but the same father, but she is also in line to reign
I can't let this happen, I will do whatever it takes
I would even use my body to seduce, Julius Ceaser, until his death by my side he
would remain
Giving him a son, an heir to his throne and mine, I would do what I have to do,
on my throne I had everything to gain.


But Ceaser was murdered so to achieve my goal, I would seduce his general, Marc
Antony
Ceaser had banished Arsinoe, to another land, he didn't have jurisdiction over
the land
But Marc Antony did, so by seducing him, he would end up doing anything for me
Even killing my sister, to clear the path for me and my plan.

All our lives, we fought over Egypt, until I, Cleopatra, had, had enough
So even in exile, my power reached Atsinoe, Marc Antony ordered her death
Yes she was my sister, but to be a queen some of the desicians are very tough
Already killing my brothers, my path was clear when Arsinoe took her last
breath.

After that I ruled for twelve years and in the end I would take my own life
Both of us, daughters of Isis, we would become immortal and well known
I took my life to spare Egypt Rome and all her strife
Still becoming a province of Rome, from Egypt the Roman empire has only grown.

I committed murder against my goddess Isis, I murdered one of her daughters, for
my own personal gain
I am ashamed of what I had to do, with death my brothers and sister, I made sure
they shared a kiss
Some think because of what I did, I was insane
But I was the queen of Egypt, and along with Arsinoe, we were both daughters of
Isis.

Lanaia

interesting work of poetrygets me into the mind if Cleopatra

Quixotic as ever



William C. Burns, Jr.

chyfrin437@...





my life? . . .

throw in a few flying zombies

and you'd have an episode of Dr. Who

--- On Thu, 6/16/11, Lanaia <lanaia74@...> wrote:

From: Lanaia <lanaia74@...>
Subject: [Pagan Poets Society] Daughters of Isis
To: PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com
Date: Thursday, June 16, 2011, 6:19 PM
















 









       I am royal, I am regal, I am Pharaoh of Egypt, I am Cleopatra, the oldest
daughter of Isis

I will do anything to protect my reign, unfortunately even if it means murder

I have two brothers and a younger sister, her name Arsinoe IV, the younger
daughter of Isis

I would make sure nothing to affect my royal reign would occur.



We had different mothers, but the same father, but she is also in line to reign

I can't let this happen, I will do whatever it takes

I would even use my body to seduce, Julius Ceaser, until his death by my side he
would remain

Giving him a son, an heir to his throne and mine, I would do what I have to do,
on my throne I had everything to gain.





But Ceaser was murdered so to achieve my goal, I would seduce his general, Marc
Antony

Ceaser had banished Arsinoe, to another land, he didn't have jurisdiction over
the land

But Marc Antony did, so by seducing him, he would end up doing anything for me

Even killing my sister, to clear the path for me and my plan.



All our lives, we fought over Egypt, until I, Cleopatra, had, had enough

So even in exile, my power reached Atsinoe, Marc Antony ordered her death

Yes she was my sister, but to be a queen some of the desicians are very tough

Already killing my brothers, my path was clear when Arsinoe took her last
breath.



After that I ruled for twelve years and in the end I would take my own life

Both of us, daughters of Isis, we would become immortal and well known

I took my life to spare Egypt Rome and all her strife

Still becoming a province of Rome, from Egypt the Roman empire has only grown.



I committed murder against my goddess Isis, I murdered one of her daughters, for
my own personal gain

I am ashamed of what I had to do, with death my brothers and sister, I made sure
they shared a kiss

Some think because of what I did, I was insane

But I was the queen of Egypt, and along with Arsinoe, we were both daughters of
Isis.



Lanaia



























[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Check out my poetry books at:

http://stores.lulu.com/store.php?fAcctID=40276685
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004K1EVFK
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B004K1EVKA

The Dream Quest One Poetry & Writing Contest
<http://www.dreamquestone.com/>   is open to  anyone who loves arranging
words into the beautiful art of poetry or writing a short story that is
worth telling everyone! And to all who have the ability to dream…
Write a poem or short story for a chance to win cash prizes. All works
must be original. http://www.dreamquestone.com
<http://www.dreamquestone.com/>

Guidelines: <http://www.dreamquestone.com/rules.html>

Write a poem, thirty lines or fewer on any subject, style, or form,
typed or neatly hand printed.

And/or write a short story, five pages maximum length, on any subject or
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Multiple poetry and short story entries are accepted.

Postmark deadline: July 31, 2011

All contest winners will be announced on August 31, 2011

Prizes:

Writing Contest First Prize is $500. Second Prize: $250. Third Prize:
$100.

Poetry Contest First Prize is $250. Second Prize: $125. Third Prize:
$50.

Entry fees:

$10 per short story.

$5 per poem.

To send entries: Include title(s) with your story (ies) or poem(s),
along with your name, address, phone#, email, brief biographical info.
(Tell us a little about yourself), on the coversheet. Add a
self-addressed stamped envelope for entry confirmation. Mail
entries/fees payable to: "DREAMQUESTONE.COM"

Dream Quest One

Poetry & Writing Contest

P.O. Box 3141

Chicago, IL 60654

Visit http://www.dreamquestone.com <http://www.dreamquestone.com/>  for
further details and to enter!


No one who achieves success does so without acknowledging the help of
others. The wise and confident acknowledge this help with gratitude.
"And remember, in whatever you do, it's okay to dream, for
dreams do come true." –Dream Quest One


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

I'm sure like many others, I must wonder what happened to you
Such a precious child, a little wide-eyed princess
So young, really not ever tasting life, the thought of your passing, it makes
everyone sad and blue
No one really knows how you died, only the past could tell us that, if time
could confess.

Each picture we see, I have to call you the wide eyed princess
So sweet, so innocent, just to see you is to fall in love with you
We can't help but to love you, our hearts breaking, us praying, the princess is
at rest
Everyone of us know your demise, but how? We, the public, really have no clue.


Each of us has a theory on how such a sweet child came to such an abrupt end
I just wish, I could hold you, console you, and let you know everything will be
alright
I wish you had been mine because until the end, I promise you I would have been
there to defend
The wide eyed princess, now in the hearts of everyone, with those big eyes, that
are so bright

How could any one with a conscious hurt some one as special as you?
I don't know how or why, the only thing I know in the princess is no longer here
Maybe we will never know the real truth, maybe we will never have a clue
But I do know sweet child, you have nothing left to fear.

To me you will always be the little wide eyed princess
A sweet child, that never had a chance to live and love or to be loved
But now you are in a better place, all of us hoping the wide eyed princess is
finally at rest
No more pain, no more anguish as we all hope you are looking down on us from
above.

There are no words to explain, the pain certain people must feel
I hope you did not suffer, who ever did this, on deaf ears, feel your plea
You hope and pray, that something like this in life, it is not real
We will always love the little wide eyed princess, known as Caylee.


  Lanaia

At Home In The Darkness

I am not afraid of dying
I have spent a thousand years in darkness
Hiding behind a million nightmares
My existence is not what my heart told me it would be
I live wanting and wishing for an elusive moment
One moment of light truth and hope
All I have is the burn of my tears
The sweet saltiness of my blood
Tears on my flesh open to the putrid air
The world rejected me
My thoughts were too off the wall
I was too different and did not want to change
That was their mistake to make
They chose and I fled into the darkness
It is where I belong…where I survive
But I am not afraid of dying
I have spent a thousand years in darkness
It is my home and that is all I deserve

Hush my sweet child, there is no more pain here to make you cry
Dry your eyes, no more tears, just your sweet sweet smile
You are now embraced by angels, they help dry the tears that you cry
You are now protected,no one can hurt you now, sleep my little child, rest
yourself for a while.

Embraced by God, here you can rest, no more worries should you suffer
You can run amidst the clouds, because now my sweet child you are now free
You are with the others that went before you, and they accept you with open
arms, from you they will never deter
Now you have all the love and protection to make you as happy as can be

Playing amidst the clouds, with the angels and the birds, you know they will
never hurt you
You can be a normal two year old, just wanting to be loved and to play
Here with the angels only happiness, never again will you be sad or blue
To console your spirit, justice for you will be served without delay.

Hush my sweet child, dry your tears, there are no more reasons for them to fall
like rain
The angels, now have a sweet addition, you are the addition, that is so sweet
You have no reason to longer be afraid, within the angels from now on you shall
always remain
When the angels knew of your coming, with love and protection, you did they
greet

So hush my child, all your fears are now gone and melted away
You are now safe, in a place of love and sanctuary
Dry your eyes, cry no more, the angels will help you, trying to make you happy
without delay
You had no time to make a decision about your life, but God I grantee, heard
your plea.

So hush my darling, you are now in a better place
No more pain, no more hurt, no more sickness, a place with no worries, a place
you can be totally free
The angels that embrace you, now with them you are face to face
After you play, now you can sleep with no worries, my sweet little Caylee.

Lanaia

Unbelievable, some one could kill such an innocent little angel
There is some one out there that has no conscious, I think they don't even feel
Caylee, each time I see her my heart breaks, such a tragedy to this sweet child
fell
It is just so hard to conceive, that something like this is real.

A trial, twelve jurors, came back deciding, not guilty, was the way to go
But still there is some one out there that really knows
Still, a two year old angel lost her life way too soon, this person still
breaths free air, whoever this is, they need to pay, though
The public, their heart aches, no justice for Caylee, so sad, it makes our tears
flow.

Who wrapped the small child's head in tape?
Who threw her away in a swamp land like a piece of trash?
Whoever it is, no conscious do they have, as they let Caylee slip into death's
cape
So still a murder, no justice for Caylee, this person has no morals, and
probably very brash.

Still walking free, no one knowing their sin, this person needs to be stopped
and made to pay
We lost an angel that awful day, three years later, still no justice for Caylee
Methodical and sly, this person, I wish they could be found without delay
But Caylee is in a better place, where she can freely laugh and play.

Unfortunately, life goes on, making this small child just a memory
We know there is still an unfeeling monster out there
One that only thinks of themselves, no remorse, no regret, making a small child
pay such a tremendous fee
So brave you are but one day you will be judged, by God himself, when that day
happens, you should BEWARE!

So for now, justice was not served and a baby killer still walks free
But on the day of judgement, standing before God, you will enter your plea
I hope as long as you breath air, in your mind Caylee you will always see
One day justice will be served for the bright-eyed little girl known as Caylee.

Lanaia

stirrings deep withinsmoulder, then flicker throughoutleaving naught
untouched
                 *
parameters nonesighted and sightless see thatlife is up for grabs
                 *
desire and tendernessof no consequencefree floating ~~~~~
               White Star


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

songs of truthease my aching heartsing me a lullaby
            *
a day at the spamaple's uplifting facialkey to spring's success
             *
dreaming like Ravenclosed eyes darting to and frocleverness buried
                       White Star


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

tangerine goldfishcolours fan gently, sereneas bubbles surface
                *
hiding within mea rusty kernel of trustseeker close at hand
                   White Star


[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Darkness

Darkness of an uncaring universe
Cold and endless without a single sphere of light
Total silence that rips through unheard noises
It is truly a world of darkness and nothingness
There is nothing to hear
Beings of thought long ago died away without uttering their final words
Nothing to say
Mouths have been sealed shut from an eternity of apathy
No reason to be
Life that needed the light of hope could never bear the dark
The laws of existence are unknown and unwelcome
Thoughts drift through a million miles of nothingness
Alone and never discovered they are lost to time
Even dreams, the ideas of Heaven cannot survive
They wither and die in the grip of fear
Never given the chance to grow and become a new reality
The only thing is the darkness and all of the loss it causes
With no escape and no hope of survival
It is better to accept what fate the gods have decreed
Suffer the darkness of the universe until the end of time
If it ever comes

Graveyard Crows

What is it, do you suppose,
that goes on in the heads of crows
that sit upon the graveyard gate
and patiently commence to wait
for spirits gone awandering;
these crows in solemn pondering.
They sit together, wing to wing,
and sometimes they begin to sing
in cawing cries the living hear
as pestilence upon the ear.
But spirits drifting to and fro
are savvy to the words of crow.

"The leaves are gone, the trees are bare,
a chill has settled on the air
and here we are, past Samhain's gate;
and so the hour has gotten late.
Come on, come on, it's time to go
if we're to beat the coming snow!"

But spirits rambling toward the door
are hesitant, all wanting more
of all the things they leave behind
and fearful of what they may find;
what fate awaits them where they go
upon the midnight wings of crow?

They crouch behind their weathered slates
and silently begin to wait;
resolving simply to forego
the cautionary tales of crow.
But cutting through the creeping mist
the crows continue to insist:

"The veil between the worlds is thin
but if you're late you won't get in
then wandering will be all you'll do
if you stay here and can't get through.
Come on, come back, " the crows all cry,
"There are worse things than just to die!"

But spirits do what spirits do.
Some wait too long and don't get through
and so, unto the earth they're bound
and left to molder on the ground.
They cannot know the sweet repose
that flew away on wings of crows.

(c) J. Lorian Young

a very nice piece of poetrygood rhyme without the sacrifice of
meterexcellent content
all told delightfully grim

Quixotic as ever



William C. Burns, Jr.

chyfrin437@...





my life? . . .

throw in a few flying zombies

and you'd have an episode of Dr. Who

--- On Wed, 7/27/11, sparrowgael <j_lorian@...> wrote:

From: sparrowgael <j_lorian@...>
Subject: [Pagan Poets Society] Graveyard Crows
To: PaganPoetsSociety@yahoogroups.com
Date: Wednesday, July 27, 2011, 3:25 AM
















 









       Graveyard Crows



What is it, do you suppose,

that goes on in the heads of crows

that sit upon the graveyard gate

and patiently commence to wait

for spirits gone awandering;

these crows in solemn pondering.

They sit together, wing to wing,

and sometimes they begin to sing

in cawing cries the living hear

as pestilence upon the ear.

But spirits drifting to and fro

are savvy to the words of crow.



"The leaves are gone, the trees are bare,

a chill has settled on the air

and here we are, past Samhain's gate;

and so the hour has gotten late.

Come on, come on, it's time to go

if we're to beat the coming snow!"



But spirits rambling toward the door

are hesitant, all wanting more

of all the things they leave behind

and fearful of what they may find;

what fate awaits them where they go

upon the midnight wings of crow?



They crouch behind their weathered slates

and silently begin to wait;

resolving simply to forego

the cautionary tales of crow.

But cutting through the creeping mist

the crows continue to insist:



"The veil between the worlds is thin

but if you're late you won't get in

then wandering will be all you'll do

if you stay here and can't get through.

Come on, come back, " the crows all cry,

"There are worse things than just to die!"



But spirits do what spirits do.

Some wait too long and don't get through

and so, unto the earth they're bound

and left to molder on the ground.

They cannot know the sweet repose

that flew away on wings of crows.



(c) J. Lorian Young



























[Non-text portions of this message have been removed]

Merry Meet, I just searched the www for pagan poetry as I love to share
beautiful things and wanted to create a Lammas greeting card for my friends -
and came across this group.
The content here surely is not for sharing, but it looks very inspiring! A very
beautiful place. Thank you for letting me in.

Brightest blessings, Anita )O(

I LOVE IT!


I wish I could rhyme like that!  I feel like asking something real stupid, like
,  "How do you do that..."   when the answer is obvious, I guess ... you just DO
IT!

THANK YOU.    Crows and I get along, so reading this poem was a real pleasure!

Merletta

To you, Mei Breu, my faithful cat
who on the railing sleeps
loudly snoring, round and fat,
yet still your balance keeps.
You'll sleep away this rainy day
that has nothing to bring
and then at midnight, wide awake,
you will decide to sing.
And sing you will in variant tone
in notes both low and high;
soprano to alto to baritone
in opus you'll decry
my need to sleep the night away
a dreadful waste of time;
for don't I know it's best to play
twixt midnights lengthy chime?
For hid between the ringing peal
that stirs from mantle clock
are magic moments that reveal
and points of view unblock!

Awake! You'll sing in vibrant mews
Awake and come to play!
We haven't any time to lose
for soon it will be day!
Arise and stretch your furry legs!
Arise and swish your tail!
Oh, come and rise above the dregs
who'll soon enough prevail!
Come and chase the moon with me!
Come and have some fun!
We have so little time, you see,
t'will soon be Twelve-o-one!!
For in the time `tween this and that
is Bastet's wondrous spell,
within, you too may be a cat
and human form excel!

But morning comes too soon for me
to join your fanciful flight;
if I'm asleep, then let me be.
Perhaps some other night.

(C)JLorian Young