Just Thinking

footsteps-and-strength-1-of-1-2

If my babies were witnesses of the soul I actually am and they were stolen because a dictator wanted to shape my image, to be who he wanted others to see, thus allowing people to blow off the discipline of their own soul and work for him to complete a task, (my spirit designed), then there is an absolute problem.
Trying to keep hold of people who allow other people to decide for their heart based on the want of revenge (unjustly), only feeds their ego. Because what they want avenged is not a concept that can be changed, it is like trying to escape the convictions of the past that were sentenced in the right increments of law.

This driver, of what he believes to be his vessel, gives away the richness of the moral lines, he encourages immoral behaviour because without the respect for the metaphysical, he uses those people who are empty of value, he uses them to raise himself up, and encourage hatred in the energies of others. Conflict in the minds of those on a pathway of life.
Calling in achievers to try and denounce the Elder order, so he can perch himself on top, above the gods and taking the place of the Lord through semantical understanding of terms; like a blue wren who steals the wind of others to give to those who validate his wrongs, against the solid wings of direction, trying to create a drop pigeon.

The thing is, I don’t fight. I defend.
You see they can’t accept I see through my souls eyes and by refusing to adhere to the line I know, they try to curl it up, not wanting to loose it, but not wanting to accept me.
 Those wanting revenge still fight, by preaching goodness and denial, they antagonize and hallucinate trying to see outside of their own journey.
Influencing others they project my line of sight back on me. Those who have given themselves to reap the scars of revenge have no clarity, they are swimming in the eyes of those who also want to erase the past, erase the existence of me.
Filling themselves up, similar to delivering an essay without references, is how it feels.
Trying to defend against the bamboozlement of genocide recycled.
Like screen-shoting a private post and sharing it virally to people under another context, blocking that page from my view.
Stealing my identity, stealing my all.
Refusing to join the dots instead wanting to weave and give away what is me, making me fight. Accusing me of being obnoxious.
They don’t respect male and female, they want to destroy me, because they can’t be me. Arguing all the time because they want to capitalise on my alive, but not follow the knowledge, only take it in vain, causing so many pain.
They waged war on me because they failed to allow me to open a conversation with my family about what things meant to me. I aggravate when their influence sniggers people up reversing the truth, trying to wash it upon my aura. Accusing me of trying to alter the notion of lies that were churned up when I was entrapped by the very people who wanted to enact a stage where revenge could be perceived. The transference caused by insinuation.
Insinuation that tries to negative gear correlation and trick people to think.
My parental rights were stolen because those stage setters enjoyed my silence. Then used sex as an excuse. Confusion was the leverage of petulance.
I disappoint many when I cry, because everyday I feel that I have been exploited and those who done so are still trying to cover up their depth by pretending that I am a lessor.
Addicted to asking others about me, they use their opinions, I feel uncomfortable around others because of their intrusion. Influenced by the underlying want of revenge, crossed, I am thrown away. Considered too much trouble.
I deserve more than an apology, More than some ghostly effort to try and give me something to do because behind the cover-up, they know.
A am not some dragon fly, some nymph yet to form. That cop out is sheepish.
My needs are being ignored because of those who wanted to dance and deliver a story of time; those who wanted to insist I was a dead head and didn’t need to know; those who stole my happiness because they wanted to play god and interfere; and because of those who decided to boost them who were touched by my soul. Preventing them from connecting the dots.
Instead I was assaulted and thus the connections could not be ignored.
But, I will survive 🙂
Life is more than what is assumed.
Life is not a right to accumulate what you like the most, or to try and alter the shape of your soul. Life is progressive and time takes no orders from those who want to denounce it to fly in pockets of another’s light.
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Shaded

Every time I write, they feel I push, in their favour.
I do not.
So, they wage warfare because they fail to fly in mine.
Time spent in love. Love of connection, knowing and yet unasked.
As a result of their ignorant failure to recognise and listen,
they exploit my identity.
I refuse to allow my shadow to be their hollow shape,
for inserting light into to get at the minds of many.
Their inner struggle their love.
They didn’t want to give up the fight.
Fighting truly, the shadow of themselves.
Wanting to be branded by those outside.
Willing to steal, to counteract the stories within,
To march and devour the myth of the hour
In effort to see themselves as the future.
The conflict in me,
In me alone
Is the knowing that I see
I see them refusing to grow
Instead wanting others to grow and empower them.
Inappropriately.
Taking what they looked at instead of what they were destined to give
Abroad, and for the greater good.
Transference effect other people involved, they too want only advantage
I am not their scape goat.
The knot of the two the vacuum of resist
That should have been cut by the talk silenced up,
I took back with the last kiss.

© All rights reserved. LRS.

stay ..

they made a mistake
they were confronted
they opened me up
so they could claim me
yet it was me who wrapped myself in attraction
the magnet of order and time
travelling in sacred unspeakable space
I have now to accept they accept no blame
riled up to stand in opposition
once again
instead they try to turn the finger at the screams of my pain
pain from their assault
their ignorance
their blind infliction
facing threats of being ignored again
like they were forced to perceive
to see that that’s the catalyst of the error
but still they are refusing
to appreciate the very heart of me
wanting to call every who can to demonstrate
whilst all I feel is plagiarism
the trespass of my soul
those who only walk to have their body
their privates
their instinct opened up by acts of fetish and copulation
disregard closures
boundaries and mark contaminations
when they assume they are on to it
stalking the crevasse of the brain
objectifying to fulfill
where they have emptied their own
pushed past what is
what was their zone
enough.

genocide

Monkey see Monkey do.
I have my own face,
I am not under you.
Force me down
by weight and wrist
You violent mongrels
I stop your fist
I feel it is
Only
Your inferiority
Which insists.

He says to my kids,
Stay on my mind’s side,
Don’t tell you mother,
she let me go
So,
I fight,

I say let them go,
He pulls negativity across the good
He hurts me when he does so
Endangering them with lies,
Harming the light of their eyes,
Encouraging transference
Continuing with a forbidden ally,
Angry, he takes to women
Wanting women to turn upon me
Even in nicety,
They are not story tellers
Merely characters of his scene

His cross path,
Has had others harmed
He doesn’t care,
Wants me to pay instead,
To be dominant where he must not tred,
He spreads throughout my everyone,
The thought pro-found,
‘I know nothing’ …
Keeping a sordid beacon alive,

When that doesn’t blend
He reverts,
His fury, the coldness I couldn’t love,
Telling me to cut,
Like he is the producer of my mind,
Worse, he refused to accept
That I was on the ball
Me watching,
Holding all my honor
As his valor dis-honoured his own self
My love for he, dissolved,
Just as his parasite willed
Trying to steal my power
And continue as twins
Demeaning the guidance, he denied
At times using it in vain

He didn’t want to break,
He wanted to have me broken,
The truth is not in
The field he pitches
But the curs’ed cloud that follows
The light above and beyond the biology
For his cover-up is only pressuring
Dark space

In systemic order,
There is no biology
In systemic order,
There are no higher clouds
The conflict that is mirrored
Is all the slut can do these days
The confused see prudence to be sour
But that is the cheek of those
Sordidly trying to devour

Bound by so many who wanted him
To be their pony crusader
Putting forth the show,
Where the story I know
Is sacrificed
So all can tell their own

The wrongful use of silence
So he can appear to be the keeper
Of a throne of unknown,
Ownership of everything
In the imagined place,
Is the biggest crock
Using speech to try and cloud over,
Devaluing the truth of verse and meek

The energies of past
Must flow through
Every given lot
So that the spirit and the memories
Are resolved
and time has plot,
It cannot be strewn across
Nor thatched by those who want to stomp.
Oxygen is not a fiber
The soul cannot be lost
They evolve, by moving forward
Not chasing what they saw in black

Especially if earth calls you
To devour,
Those who invaded
To take and develop
A new spot,
A new story,
Undermining those who feel the colours of time
But are smashed
So the imagine is told to die

The catapult refraction
gives nothing to the vain
Nothing to the illusionists
Who want to increase pain
Denying the snap
trying to birth a new attitude
Dare I say
The dragon bites
And say’s absolutely
No way!

©

This poem is not open to interpretation. It has been written. LRS.

Only one Rainbow

The core is the heart of existence,
Of planet and all inhabit-ants
It reaches
To teach us,
Of love and light and life,
The Mother Earth it’s keeper
It’s one true messiah and crown
Denounced by the petty
And ..men
Who run,
To try and hold the earth,
As if,
In the
Palm of their own hand

The binary of man and woman
Not the whoa that chauvinists insist
But, the omen that man is better,
Bigger than his fist
There are those gifted escape,
Some just fall into place
The arms of a comforter;
Time maker
A soothe for the soul

The many spirits who’ve crossed
Into the opposite form of sex,
Still have a heart which loves,
Unlike those who fuck for lust

Many may be weakened at
The un-natural incur,
This is the damnation of dis-respect
The deepest punishment earned

Mother Earth insists on knowing her messenger’s
Angers if they ignore her say,
Adhering to their every day
She will not let impersonators,
take her at bay,
Their snares and cares,
Unworthy of her flares,

The players of her stage which
Fold outside the fated spring,
Fertilise atrocity and hostility;
Let’s not allow for them to win,
Nor blinding to occur;
Ignorance does not make peace,
But forces rubbish
To arise
& innocence to weep

There’s a lot to love
It is not an excuse for constriction;
There is correlation of core and stars
And cosmic waves of time,
Repentance of conviction

The fallacious desire for men to dominate
All the seven continents,
Must and can never win
This planet trembles enough

The forces of a guiding man
Want nothing but to dictate,
Directive men
Must be kept at bay,
From forcing things to work their desired way

Due to the astrological position
Each has a different
Dynamic,
The infestation of reverse control
Has made the discord tumble under,

Maybe to draw balance …
The revolt,
Backing a male cold shoulder,
Maybe to beckon opportunity,
For men to keep abusing
The female creator,
The one the core made man as well,
Probably opposite,
So the fate would keep to pace
And allow humbleness in order …

© 2016

Bravado

If the fate of all life
On earth:

In dream or weather in time,
Is based on the structure of music;
May it be told, no one can shift the key,
No one can make streamline the focus of existence,
Based on a grab for who is the writer of eternity.

There is no room for trespassers,
What is of you to begin,
Always will loop back to you;
That’s where you harmony fits in,
It cannot be removed,
Transferred for another to play.

Several often crawl inside the flesh of many
To see,
To use the facts and make a frame;

Insist they are buoyant in eyes,
above light,
and faster than the speed of time.

The rhythm of continuum,
Infinity and space,
Is not from the sensors or the invokers
But, from the light of destiny,
The planet Earth, has a mind of it’s own;
It is not subject to any one,
All beings have their place,
Where magnitude streams energy,
And delivers clarity.

The signs of reality present themself,
Not for interpretation
Or for trickers to win,
But because the readers
The keepers,
The connected,
Feel their song,
As they have from the moment their spirit begin’d

Their heart leaps
Their mind soars
Lips remember, and
Will forever carry them on.

© 2016

SCATHING

There are enemies all around me
Idiots of their own narcissistic mind
Living without acknowledging
That there is correlation and time;

Looking upon me
to see themselves
recruiting people
to destroy the concept

All so they can be seen
as someone here
They should be living
as somewhere else

I am threatened by the crusaders
who were subjugated in their ruse
The ones who are not star people
rather they are of the grass root

The sky is eating the lungs
the brains and so much more;
because the enemy wants to stand
Beneath the southern sky and rule the floor

Wanting to create a new dream
Replacing whales with false tales
Spreading gossip and deceiving;
Transferring walks of life

Image delivery
Eye trickery
Desired perspective
Disturbing tranquillity;

I know the true light
Inside the minds
Of those who done no wrong,
It will outshine any enemies talk

For without
Correlation
Humans
Can never be alright.

The argument of trying to trump
the actual of time
By propositioning a solution in hind
Is where I must draw the line

Some crimes are all to heinous
the Syrian conflict, an atrocity
All because of vain and fetish
A strive to be higher than the lord

The ignorance
and assaults on me
Everyone is connected
the way cannot be changed

Just because free radicals
try to dance
Raising demons of the past
to cure them mythologically?

Every place own certain energies
people the hosts of their might
when characters are conducting out of location
earth doesn’t function right

It hurts me so much
as I feel the victims cry
I am forced to defend
as the insubordinate try to continue the fight

I cannot make them willing
But I share the truth with love
I do not want them winning
They have no weapon of love

The tone of voice used to influence
A trip of harmony and flow
connecting to individuals
to re-present a show

Working tirelessly
to decode Mother Earths stage
and teach the little children
how to play for a visual dream

The enemy cannot take the inner light;
I chased, I found, I hunted
They still want to walk above
and instrument the buzz

Time is continuum
We are all but visitors to its cycle
A rider of the star people
Cannot make the cognitive be their chime

A love that is no more
Because to hate I do not give in

The structure of the globe
can never be out-dated
And violators of correlation
will never win

(c) LRS 2016