blank slate the denial of human nature

wish I had a chance to see her. Her mom is a polar opposite....her religious banterings had me on the edge.....in 48 hours....

As I see the graphic fluid /sexually void / forced to be hidden away...as seen by her mom to be freakish I'm quite certain....
Here I am in her room....amoungst the remninse of a candlé that burnt a soul......
Will her work be forgotten.
Therefore her life
one of separation
of sacrifivation
of one who never gave inn
one who saw lifes end
as a cure....as she was hurt...the ones who damaged
her innocense took away
any open flower
from the yard
flower of solitude
flower of mechanics
of white rooms
of drs& commitals

I fealt intrusive upon a life thru art others should see..her guilt doth be
in all I see.
Half of my genes explore
her disease
sickness has no place for beholding a truth
such words such images
cannot be labled annymore MOM....she wanted to show me her work.
But the public?
Is it selphish.....to desire to devour every creative expression.. A poet trueley did I find...one box....
Left to tell these aunts these parnts shuving gospel or food in our mouths...
Sacred to keep the body
clean of all.
That day, my girl was your reprieve......& Mothers guilt overraught ...dropped fruit secrets no more....
You my dear my beautiful girl were of pure spirit.
How could you not shutt your mouth and will toward a manipulator who'd argue ur existence......oh how much did you walk ..how far until you were gone.....
She hides you now.
I took a sample of your soul
the rest ....shal£l not be in vain...
U my twin of sin....my freak n cheak.......
I see us talking ....how the illness sprinkled on our heads
how our nuture poison bottle of luv.......
Before I.....wizdom & weathered beyond ..

Ahh what sickness compare
how could they dare...huh my words ..skimmed your surface they were as cheap as radio waves....
YOU were published....you maintained a separate honorable and u breathed in the mountain air...
Males bullied your bones
such ignorance such a foul taste.
That mourning
had been there....
You knew it was there
before I awoke....you had been up for days.

Only in another life we could meet our minds.

I only just awoke
its written
its
my own flower

I shall keep the flower
in ur shadow
tolerate
small
noises
as EVE ate....
As they fucked
w/o care
pleasure is perfection
guilt is jealous

religion can't fuck
or be free...gods image
is all that is in us that is .

They dare prune the apple trees in other yards.

We ...you...Me...every fruit may be of the same tree..

Does not the sun ,air and soil allow a tree of many kinds?

Will an apple dro¶p to hell
for its seed to which it came.

But pear be not eaten or ripened ....I cannot say
which fruit ...any ....even be poison to our bodies.....
Still every berry ....doesnt yield for self....
I may hang higher....or perhaps be tasteful.....
Should I have the authority to question your seed......
U may be small in number....
But save lives......

Oh ye christian....
I grow in ur shadow.....small ...u block sunlight....
But we both get nourishment. Why would a berry not see that an apple shall be....
So let the apple, if that's who u be....dance upon the old seed.....ur seed has spread...survived been in great high places.

Do remember tho. Other seeds may not boast their taste or place...

Look below....our tree is of the same root.
U feel the suns warmth,
a fruit cannot see , but what it is.
it cannot taste itself.
A bird we must rely
for eyes .

Now ...night falls.
Each dependant on our faith.
Tho blind.
does yet the same sun rise?
Bring life?

Many trees.......
Many kinds
all w/ mysteries.

As the church is a great pear
Individual berries have life.

W/o faith......would the sun still rise.
ask a fruit.


APPLE,PEAR OR BERRY BE
WE ALL HAVE LIFE IN A TREE.

Remember one can be ripened.....just as many.

Orchard or thorny bush
are we not aloud to be?

Worry not for me
I've a seed
sunlight
and may even be on the same
tree.
.


sheep.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

you have a seed and sunlight and will continue to grow and blossom into a beautiful and unique being...
lovely, sad writing....
love always.....

Braine73 said...

thanx sweetie

DAD

DAD
My Father by Mark Merrill