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*a black heart drowning in euphoria*

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He Is A Song

Life At Its Fullest - Peewee

Reach the summit of a mountain
Kiss the floor of the sea
In all of Life’s adventures
There is a song in me

He is the love
And Epic reward
From God to all of us here
He’s lived a good life
Been giving good love
And on his 80th year
We thank the Lord
This man is a song
Who’ll live on…

So walk the gravel and cement
Of busy city streets
Convert the traffic into jazz
With this legend in your ears

He is the love
And Epic reward
From God to all of us here
He’s lived a good life
Been giving good love
And on his 80th year
We thank the Lord
This man is a song
Who’ll live on…

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No Love That Can’t

No Love That Can't

I know no love apart from madness,
no love that can’t fear unspeakably and yet, still dare
I know no love without insurmountable woe,
No love that can’t hold exuberant eternity in a blink so mundane…

I know no love that can’t magically take last breaths for ages
just wanting so enthusiastically to be there…
I know no love not selfless;
No love that can’t meet death unshaken…

I know no love without phenomenal outcomes,
no love that actually ends…
I know no love that merely lasts
but love that creates instances of glorious eternity

I know no love that doesn’t hold Heaven.
I know no love that can’t.

* dedicated to my grandfather Pio Espineda
December 4, 1930 – September 11, 2013
and to all who love *

Of Time…

toddlers58

Sometimes,
good intentions without understanding result to worse things.
Sometimes,
it’s better to not understand beings and simply respect feelings.

Ripples of thoughts
of wonders and sorrows
severe his mind gracefully
at the wrong time….

All in non-extremes
beg for attention
when the only Freedom starts with Detention…
Isolation
Seemingly Zombiefication
– A Liberation they know nothing of.

Pink and Green
Images of woe
Images of Joy
Disprove Slumber

-THE DEATH WAS REAL!

It was a nightmare that came before sleep
It was a dream that happened because he awakened…

But now he must awaken again….

There is a pool of woe in the Southeast,
and fish in the cold air up North to the West…
He knows no other waters but woe.

Time stops in this climax of suffering.

The LIFE was real…

Sometimes,
he gets swallowed up in a time machine…
and knows just about too many things…
Sometimes…
he only thought of time…

He cries to sleep,
wakes up the same,
blood flowing through his veins
and outside of them.

Splashes of blood
on this mundane floor
drown him gently
in sweet Sunday gloom.

From The Heaven-Empowered Lady Echoing Non-sense

View from Emscherpark in Duisburg

To the Catastrophic, Aggressive Stoic – The Ordinary Rebel,
To the Profound, Outstandingly Loving Lunatic Unbound – X,
You can not waste your life wishing to die,
Nor spend it not wanting enough to live…
Because you search so passionately for the Golden Fleece…
And with blood and heart have expanded immortality…

White Light, bright fire,
Look up to yourself with your feet on the ground,
You’ve claimed so many wrong places to be heaven
And see not your own place in it…
In darkness, the sky is your mirror,
Can you see not how wonderful you are?

But you are much more than that.

Foul Way Of Love

(something written some years ago)
Duisburg

Wake up in breathless mourning glory
Cheat and blame the skies
Turn your back on the stunning light before you
Drift off and die.

The devil shows you a tease
So you go on and pry
Pretending it won’t hurt more to stain more
So you build up the gallows of your head with lies

Take the gray off the ashes
And let them burn again-
This is your foul way of love
Will anyone get it right?

Beyond the Noise

Zandvoort

There’s no comfort for my chosen solitude
In a crowd where I don’t seem forlorn…
Sunshine’s not my friend in Winter
When my heart and soul breaks torn…
Beyond the noise, although I feel the peace,
I also feel the grimmer breeze…
I’ve tweaked my brains to make myself believe
That I don’t have everything I need…

Cherub. Rebel. Minstrel.

Cold Beach

He communicates literally in such a steady tone
But his depth is in his words
And applying a note unto it would magnify his soul.
He is gentleness gone awry;
And a manic in silence and control;
He strolls his way quietly into screaming serenity
As a forlorn wagged stray in social fury.

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