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Message from a Dove

Notes of love chirp from a cold stone bloodbath

Jagged flowers thrash about on the path

Musical mouth of a preacher mind-bent

Stop to smell the roses, and feel his wrath.

Harps and flutes sing as his story goes on

Verbal roots grasp to imprison your head

"Follow me or burn" the trumpets join in

Message of faith like needle and thread

"Knock only my door I will show forth more."

Needle of delusion sews shut your will

"Live your life full, you can always repent"

Your choice and value his deceptive kill

Gardens of Waste

Life's choir of purple harmony,

Rings blues from a black chimney.

Erotic dance for the tongue of present,

Fat gut content, money well spent.

Hands of time tick you've only a taste,

Curdled milk ruins, and gardens of waste

Our Self Expression

Whose is the face I speak to?

The I in life is only

To them I am but a face

My heart of blood is lonely

Those who act to guide our lives

They speak and do as they may

These faces don't pay your fare

Reality is your way

Life's a play you and yourself

Actors don't commit their crimes

Flesh faces mimic our selves

Only we each are not mimes

Romeo and Juliet

Alone and cold with her dark thoughts

Destruction, erupts in her head

Mental lava to boil the soul

The tears of pain he will soon shed

Sarcastic message "I love you".

Tucked under the welcome mat

Suicidal revenge from floor nine

Warm meat and crushed bone lay flat.

Fresh scent of death on the front steps

Bleeding face without expression

The crusted paper memory

Where is her desperate last laugh?

Soldier boy

Who's the champion?

His long last thought

Where's the freedom

For which he fought

Collapsed lungs

Against his spine

As his chest fell

For the last time

Conquered death

Now he lives

In life he takes

In death he gives

Gary Engle

 


My Zen

Faith is belief in your own choices.

Choice is dissolved in the light of certainty.

If our choices are true then our thoughts exist.

If our choices are false, then we are not living in reality;

Which is uncertain hell.

 

Gary Engle

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