| DETAILS |
| LAST LOGIN: |
Sep 6, 2008, 10:16 PM |
|
| BOOKS |
Influences—Michael Easton—18 Straight Whiskeys
People like us
We’re not supposed
To step on a stage
Write a book
Or play a note.
We get threatened
Because we have a thought.
Fear of moving off track,
Being out of balance
Or falling in love.
We’re meant to believe
We should go through life
Only to cause
The least possible damage.
Keepers of the pond,
Simply wading
In the waters of mediocrity.
Afraid to vision or swim.
Drowning,
Splashing about
Without hope of resurfacing.
Well. Fuck that—
Never be stale, man. Or subtle.
Let go of reason, cause
The rules you’ve cherished
Have passed with the night.
Lose your mind, waste a little time.
Fish at midnight.
Let the worm eat at your heart awhile
And don’t worry about your purpose—
Gandhi had a purpose, MLK the same.
We have none.
Only chariots need a guide.
So look beyond the dark
See through the truth
And when you do
Let the poet make the gesture on his own
Because sometimes laughter
Is better than crying.
Just sit back, in the beauty of the words
And wait for good dreams,
For only in the listless drift
Will you find the secret value
Of swinging with the angels. |
| TURN ONs |
People who understand what's most important to me and get it...
I wonder what happens to the old gods when no one worships them anymore???
For little sister Samantha!
Little Sister
Through the mysts of legend peeking...
Diana's little sister seeking...
Power cradled in her keeping...
She soothes her sister's quiet weeping.
Young spirit with the ancient soul...
Perhaps not ready for such a role...
Aware of desperate arcane goals...
More aware of the power, she controls.
Ahhhh, she strays in youthful vigor...
Always seeking something bigger...
Than what is needed to insure...
That earth-wounds will not long endure.
In her sweet naive delusion...
She embraces cruel illusions...
Her tender quest seems never-ending...
Sister's advice, feels condescending.
If she founders in this endeavor...
Old gods must leave this plane forever...
Misled by shallow human lies...
Little sister screams as Diana dies.
Mournful wailing now is heard...
Wise ones aware of what occured....
Thunder echoes their desperation...
These ancient gods, denied salvation.
Roles somehow are now reversed...
Marking mankinds' cheap acendence...
Ancestral gods are cast aside...
Mans' strutting ego abhors dependence.
© April, 2008 ~DaveDoom51~ all rights reserved |
| TURN OFFs |
People who play games...
Hades’ mate
It is Hades’ match
And I am a pawn
I am not in his domain
Just on hell’s border line
I beg to know the
Set rules, because
I am only human.
Just starting the match,
Unrelenting, and not forgiving.
Mortals get enticed and
Mortals can be entombed.
But I have my Goddess
She is strong, and
She embraces me.
Out of Hell’s bowels
When Hades utters, “Mine!”
I am easily mesmerized.
There is no escape resolution.
My Goddess is powerful.
She can’t rescue me.
Hades words have power, too.
As I look I feel no fright
And in hell I find love’s embrace. |
| HOBBIES |
Writing...it calms the mind
Lost Souls
Lost in total darkness, nurturing sleep’s sweet embrace
Mind wandering through confusion, yearning peace to replace.
From caverns deep within, souls emerge as single
Problems that plague, bring lost souls to intermingle.
Some souls meet for moments, sweet kisses are exchanged
Others pass more slowly, awareness forever changed.
Gentle mingling of spirits, energy caressed in passing
Stroking and soothing, awakens understanding everlasting.
Quietly they move, whispers passing as touch
Feelings deep within, change inner souls much.
Souls that intertwine, embrace friendships second chance
Leaving imprints on the heart, finding peace in eternal dance.
~~moonchild~~ |
|
|
moongoddess's Latest Blog Entries
|
|
|
| ABOUT ME |
Go placidly amid the noise and haste and remember what peace there is in silence.
As far as possible without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly, and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they, too, have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexations to the spirit. If you compare with others, you may become vain and bitter; for always there will be greater and lesser persons that yourself. Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time. Exercise caution in your affairs; for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals; and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is perennial as the grass.
Take kindly to the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth. Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortunes. But do not distress yourself with imaginings. Many tears are born of yourself. You are a child of universe; no less than the trees and the stars, you have a right to be here. And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore, be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be, and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.
----found in old St. Paul’s church Baltimore, dated 1692
Don't let me be..this is what you get...
Black Onyx
A time to hear and to obey...
Commanding beauty she doth convey...
Angel of mercy so dark and vicious---
Power abused...but the blood's delicious.
Approaching the bed that just arrived..
She feels a stirring from deep inside.
His wide eyes beg her for escape...
From his pain...infernal plans taking shape.
An injection to increase his hurting---
She licks his skin before inserting...
A monstrous needle in his vein---
Time for her evil games again.
Hell's half-sister of creation shines...
Through rough vessels, at such times.
Agony birthed so hot with-in him,
No succor by this harlot...given.
Chanting and awful acts conspire....
To bring about what she desires.
Death and cold destruction reign...
Soon only death's release remains.
Laying naked upon the bed beside him...
Her body alive, with wild...anticipation.
Foul ritual now demands completion...
A bath for her, in death's secretions.
Adding spice to her deprivation...
His agony fueling her desperation...
She reaches blessed culmination...
Better than pious masturbation.
Groaning marks her soul's release...
Imagined outrage of parish preists...
Should they learn of secret rites..
Performed by her on duty nights!
Adjusting garments, tying laces...
Bathing him to remove all traces...
Of her night's perverse attraction...
Removing signs of her satisfaction.
Soon...another she shall use...
Another corpse she can abuse.
© May, 2008 ~DaveDoom51~ all rights reserved
Lovingly dedicated to Dawn and Tashina....my two true "Angels of Mercy"...Thank You !! ~DaveDoom51 |
|
GALLERY
|
|
There are no images submitted!
|
|
| TOP FRIENDS |
moongoddess has 12 friend(s)
|
|
