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Ophelia, my Belovedyou dreamed a crystal clear blue mirror surface
where the object of your desire was reflected
you embellished your memory with flowers and dressed it in white
carefully you folded your tears in linen
you buried your sorrow in boats of dream
which would never ever return again
and you stepped towards the surface of reflection
where the moon had dropped all of its being
the silky white swish of your dress you gave away
to be touched by the blue surface of reflection
in the centre of desire you won peace
and your whole being touched the dream behind the veil
your dead body was found on the beach in the next morning
it was partly under the surface like an abandoned rose
compared to you i am only the prince of shadows
immortal doubter and denier for ever more
bright string of light you were dream from dream light from light
I bring my flowers and my poems on your grave over and over again
With Love and Desire Immortal
restless dreamsoh sleepy
the sleepy poppies
all their dreaming powers
are conscious and aware
all nights and all days
just like on a night like this
but this dream is more real
than any other dream in my life
it rings a sad bell in my heart
this funeral of all moments
happy moments and joyous ones
sad and miserable moments
of this midsummer night
this is the very early morning of mourning
but i can still see your smile
the very first which you gave me
the full blossom of your lips
the parfymed silk of your locks
now i'm sadness beyond all oceans
beyond all dusks and all dawns
the sadness beyond the horizon
sadness beyond sun and moon
in this dream
yours and mine
my tears fondle
your lips your loins
they fondle your sadness too
in this dream of yours and mine
you created symphony of your myths
with only one look of love
the myth of your lips
the myth of your loins
the myth of yout breasts
but now my tears is al
My Life as a FishOnce I walked on the beach.
Suddenly I saw a white stone
beneath the surface of the ocean.
So, I deciced to dive underwater
and snatch this peculiar white stone.
But then it happened that the waves
carried me more and more far away
to the open sea and soon after that
the ocean devoured me completely.
I sank more and more deep down to
the mysterious whirlpool of the ocean
and then my only consolation was
the mysterious shining white stone,
where there was written an old spell
in mysterious golden Arabic letters.
In the meanwhile as I was sanking down
I polished the golden letters of the stone
and suddenly a miracle happened: I was
given the skill to breath underwater.
I was given a fish tail and fish grills
together with fish scales and fish fins.
It was then when I begun my life as a fish
in the underwater kingdom of the fish.
I competed in the skills of swimming
in the school of fish. I swam fast
the complete journey from sunrise to the sunset
and my scales glimmer
The Room Alive of SufferingI grab life and squeeze it in my hand,
I snatch it – I steal it!!
But life just withers away, it dies, drops off
and finally vanishes completely from by my side.
Life is just the wretched side of death,
I feel now - and my tears flow.
No longer I can influence the events.
Deep inside I ponder: My God, my God!!
Cease from the acts of your hatred, my God!!
Then the God took back the sight from my first eye.
With a stigma I wandered amongst the men – just like Cain.
Why did you take back my eye? I blasphemed and rebelled.
Then the God took back the sight from my second eye.
I fell into the most overwhelming darkness
and I lived there silent for seven years.
I was silent for all those years.
After that the God gave me not two eyes
but seven eyes instead - and He gave me also
gift to see and interpret supernatural visions.
Then I started to praise my God and my Lord:
There is no wiser than the King of Kings,
There is no more supreme than the Lord of Lords!
Heffalump – the Holiest of the Holy, the Human Faced
-for the memory of Joseph ”John” Merrick,
the great poetical soul and lover of inner beauty
also known as ” The Elephant Man”
”You have more tumors on your face
than the God Almighty has fingers
in His hands sublime and beautiful.”
The blunt remark came from one
of the starers in the endless line.
In the meanwhile the ringmaster
wawed his hands intensily and shouted:
”Look! Look! Look and sense the horror!”
You felt the pain deep within,
but the stream of your tears did not dry out.
Maybe that time you whispered
- perhaps to your own ears only - ,
what is true to us all: One rises
to the Mountain of Smile
only through the Valley of Tears.
You knew by heart the most beautiful
word of English language: To Love.
Finally: When the pain stopped, there
was no even slightest bitterness within you.
I remember: Fingers of your left h
The Bride of the Christ(Mary of Magdalen)
It's written in the Gospel of Philip: "Mary was his mother, his sister and his companion". I notice now that occasionally even the Gnostics find the seed of the truth.
You sacrificed all in the name of love
your crown of thorns is made
from the lovely scented roses
and your whole fragile body
is covered with wounds of love
and even still
Before Jesus awakened the daughter of Jairos from the dream of death, he made another miracle: He cast out seven devils from you, Mary of Magdalen. Because of this act you loved Jesus more than your own life. Some say that your Hebrew first name means 'bitter' or 'reluctant', but for Jesus you were never such.
All your sweet words are doves
your steps are light like gazelle's steps
your thoughts are fast like the wind
your conscience is white like the snow
you the protector of all the children of the world
you the matron saint of all the sorrowful
you the only true consolation
of my s
A cup of wine for the memory of you, Aurelius(St. Augustine)
When the Visigoths were burning the city of Rome
You wrote the name of the Unknown God
to the marble of the Eternal City
just like Jesus once wrote
all that to the sand
where it would be washed away by the rain
- perhaps this was your main mistake.
Among all the wise teachers of the Church
you are the one, who is the most contradictory.
You wrote on
the inflammable papyrus
that the duration
of the fire of Hell
just like Heaven
and some of us humans
in this sublunar world
are meant even before their birth
just for the another one of them.
So, you had ceased to remember
that also you yourself also had hovered
between darkness and light,
and on the edge of night and mists of the earth
you acted lik
Musician of the Silence(San Juan de la Cruz)
You were a Carmelite in the style of the most severe and the most poor: Shoeless.
There is a passage in the Gospel of Matthew, where Jesus sends the disciples to the world with these carefully chosen words: Do not carry gold or silver in your belt; Do not take a bag or two robes or shoes or stick; because the worker has earned his meal. You were so serious a person, John, that you interpreted these words in their literal meaning , which was also the most poor and most miserable meaning: You chose to walk without shoes just like Jesus and his closest disciples.
Perhaps you recalled the words of the Lord to Moses in front of the burning bush: "Take off your shoes, because this place is holy!" For you, John , the whole world was a holy place, the house of the God, where it was strictly forbidden to walk with shoes on; For you every living creature was holy.
In Exodus of the Bible
it is written that on the
Mount Horeb Moses cam
visionary in the dark(Edith Stein)
The festival of Chanukah
your childhood memories
the latkes potato pancakes
and the nine-branched
You found philosophy during
your days at the university
and soon you joined
the disciples of Edmund Husserl
You progressed quickly in your studies
and at the early age of only 25 years
you graduated as doctor of philosophy.
In the company
Dream a Reachunsilence the words
that your tongue
can't find or form
sing something new
sing an angel's wing
from tongue to sky
shake the undone and fly
like a dead jesus
i speak in tongues
less true than infinite
we dream unguided
the eras and acts
that we hold up
as our crowning
(before we can fly)
i burn another pocket
into the side of the fire
inhabitable, but captive
i put my hand in
my life in
and faith, i pound you
into every hole
and cosmic pore
between atoms and reactions
(so i can fly)
a broken sky
has dropped its fire
over eternity's shipwreck
and i sweat
alien notes, tempos
i wish and whisper
into the only air pocket
left on earth
(so it can fly)
and i'm back
within the deep again
of this heavy unbreathing
mask sewn shut
i still, and forever,
dream a reach, flight
into a safe sky
a sunrise, sunset,
(that i can remember)
quantum processself is contrivance
strip Newtonian garb
we are ghostly
neutrinos flash through
we are not
we are both
we are neither
we know not what is
we never shall
we think ourselves real
llp - dA - sep2014
INFINITELY LILITHI am not dead for I cannot die,
once Man thought I could be easily misused,
exiling me to an epilogue no longer remembered
as he blotted out my blush from staining
the Earth's chrysalis rind, if only he knew
that beneath my touch knowledge took root
and pumpkins were hollowed out into shapes
-seedless and skinless-as infinite as the mind.
I am not dead, I cannot die
for I am the memory of primevel bliss,
though blackened my skeleton still exists,
licking the Silence clean so my name can
bite more soundly, a thousand serpents hiss
from my nebula center, welcoming to me
my children who bring the blood that feeds
my dessicated garden, ravenously growing,
I cannot regret for I live too purely to repent
the pushing and prodding of my blossoms to be
known by the timeless exuberance of eons past,
in the Moonlight I move and speak of dark things
not really dead and the light not really blessed
without me being known first, infinitely I say
I am not dead for I cannot die.
I am Lilith.
Friend of EternityFriends here and friends there
Forever and ever.
Friends come and go
And friends leave and stay.
To the ones with loneliness in the halls of their hearts
A message greater than any political speech will rock the nation.
All hands and knees shall hear the praise of praises
And to the nation, praises will light up the world of the nation.
To the ones with hopelessness and to the ones who sink in the sand
Will hear the hope and the love of all nations.
The message to the nation that is in dire need of hearing hope
Will hear even my praise soar over the mountains to the oceans.
No matter who you are
No matter where you have been
No matter what you look like
There is a love greater than any love and brings nations to their knees.
A love that makes beating hears roar like lions
And a love that calls out the kings of all nations.
A love that is greater than any love
And will sing through the ages till the day comes.
Sinners of all nations; your hearts bow before the one who did it all
Now, BecauseNow is the time to be tough.
Even though you don't want to be,
even though you'd rather just weep.
Now is the time to be strong.
Even though everything in you cries,
screams against it.
Now is the time to be happy.
Even though all you care about is fading,
falling rapidly into the background.
Because weeping does nobody good.
Not even you.
Because faltering only hurts you.
Not even screams help.
Because happiness is the glue
that is holding you
that is keeping you
from bursting apart at the seams.
Because even though everything, everything
Is falling away and is meaningless,
("Meaningless! Meaningless!" cries the Teacher)
You still need to ignore your grief
Keep moving and
It'll be fine.
Now is the time to be tough.
Even though it's so hard,
the hardest thing you've ever done.
Now is the time to be strong.
Even though yo
In the WoodsIn the woods my spirit wanders
it goes where now my feet shall follow
the trees, they speak with silent tongues
where wind will pass through every branch
my eyes alight with newfound life
I know this is my lasting home
the ground beneath receives me warmly
soft-spun soil has kissed my feet
the air around has touched me deeply
soaking in my every pore
the birds are singing in the trees
with peeping frogs drawn up and down
the waters of the streams are murm’ring
the distance now is not so far
and what is near is father still
the world it breathes in through the roots
where my soul is rising to
digging deep in untold heights
my spirit wanders with the breeze
here is where my people lived
where they fought and drank and built and died
the forest is our endless home
whence our finest tribes did hail
fare we well to come back home now
to bring soft flesh to bare
bear it out along the way
softest skin on rough hewn bark
the palm may breathe in with the wood
and out the lungs give a cath
The Lost Who WanderI find myself
at the feet of a god,
not with expectation,
praying falsely for
of divine intervention,
but out of sheer desperation,
like those who murmur
prayers to St. Jude,
within the darkness
where there is none
over the rocks
with the blind,
not counting how many
along the way,
all to hear enigmatic
from the parched
of a mad woman
with hallucinatory visions
living in a cave
which sweeps over me
in waves of nausea.
I martyr myself
for your pain,
and grieve unaccountably
for your loss,
it seers through me,
like St. Sebastian
I find myself penetrated
full of holes, bearing the marks
of a guilt which should
never have been my own.
But that dose not entirely
absolve me, there is
no escape from my own
all I can do is watch you
and wait for dead prayers
to be answered
by the indifferent
sages who devour
our fates making
bets as they attempt
Psalm of the BrokenIn Your eyes O Lord,
I have done evil.
Evil that followed me since the day I was conceived
But evil that has no power over You.
O Lord, the creator of the universe and the friend to all sinners
You have overcome ever summit of this dying land.
Every mountain, You climbed and still remain holy
Even storms bow to Your glory.
Hear my cries O God, for my bones are broken and my heart in agony.
Forgive me and turn this brokenness into a song.
To feel Your spirit flow in my as I weep
And to see You light up the atmosphere of my broken soul.
Purify my soul once more my King
And do not hide me from Your console.
I have sinned against You, but I lay them at Your throne
Just to purify my soul whiter than snow.
Give me living water to drink and bread to eat
I thirst and hunger for You.
You weep for me and weep with me, but You have the power to restore a broken soul
And You turn my brokenness into a song of Your glory.
You are the one God and the King of Kings
And there is none like You.
Friend of the God, companion of the paradoxes(Meister Eckhart)
You were born perhaps in the small village of Tambach in Thüring. Your parents were maybe farmers, but we can not know this with absolute certainty any more. In the days of your youth you joined the ordain of Ordo Praedicatorum ie. the Dominican Order in Erfurt. Later on you were chosen as prior in the Dominican Order. Your early latin dissertations emphasize the role of giving away of one's own selfish craving in the spiritual path, uninterestedness for the benefit of the God Almighty. Soon you moved away, you first started to study the sentences in Cologne, then you visited Strassburg and finally you ended up to teach theology in the university of Paris.
In Paris you found the blind spot of the learned scholastics and their Aristotelian sentences: Outside the official church there was a group of poor women, who worshipped Jesus of Nazareth and made various kinds of acts of charity in the name of the Lord together with
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scheinbar is a much-loved and well-known deviant. Just one look at her gallery, filled with enchanting photography, will have you mesmerized. A deviant for over 7 years, Christiane can always be found posting inspirational features as well as regularly commenting on other deviations and encouraging and empowering her fellow deviants. We are inspired and insist that you too stop by and congratulate ... Read More