Member Contribution Five . . .

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"IN COUNSEL OF MORAL CONTEST" January 19, 2004 Ainu, Captain of a dispossessed, Northern People born: January 30, 1967 Starved Rock, LaSalle-Peru, Illinois 0614 DuPont, Chevalier, MacDonald-Collier, Meissen-Zaeske, Salo-Lake “What was their thought in what the proud intend when Accusation wrought Determination for uncertain ends? It wends upon the Air and seeks it's purposed goal more subtle than the fair of butterfly shawls. They'll be glad to know when winds of folly bend the fates of men to show what gods for truth befriend. Verging on the thought they grip the Age and rend the doubts of every sophist sage. Listen close, it lurks intending on life’s wrong and hunts and slurps for blood and dirge of song. The Muse awakes from slumber of want and, snatching, rakes the field of souls en route. Alas, the Roofs of worth and yields of precious fruit folding on their sacred hearth the hands in serving truth. Who of the wise deny when gods raise their Head and all the wrong of men descry and crying, wake the dead? It shall be said- More bold they are these proud and strong than fiery Angels in the throng or Supernova stars! Let them come and all survey while plunging on the world headlong taste time and space in shore of ancient days or, rising on the Word craft our sacred songs. Yet maintains the way as some hold fast hopes of promised days and what shall last. Item of a waking care slumbering away still shirks not to bear but quiet, hears what gods would say. Living, seeing, owning sleep embraced and embracing all along to weep and speak and sing my Nights in bursting Gale of song. Others left to weaklings? weaklings I, and too forgot in ways some formed of folly or building up the lots counted much, but not destiny. Measure, weigh, estimate mark out the Earth for owning they seek and grasp, insatiate of time and things the trinkets of conceit, believing. Now comes, in figure of a Voice which none may claim to own or claiming, demon straight the Face of Anointing Spirit Worth and Fame! Care and want, care and want familiar in refrain the song of loss to taunt faith with doubt, obscene. Better care, who cares best for living on the field when contest worsted the best of confidence, false conceived. Care of care, the source of tears more studded than is told of crystal lights or pearly fortunes stored heard among the hordes the Fame among men mining for gold. Weep and wail some rend the scalp and fling the rank distrust upon the air... though faith does not pale nor daughters’ whelp a loss in rape, the worthless dare. Their peace among the merciful as light among the blind proves virtue, invincible and cloaks with strength the weary mind while, trial on trial, the lovers lend a way from out the maze in link of thread that ever wends to hope of friendship, none dismayed. To Friendship wishing or tasked upon the Line- Come sacred Willing All allowed or fit to tie!” Ainu Part I Psychomachia How like varied life those ways along seeming foreign some charade though raised of earth-song Nature makes when sovereign our beauty and her lovely wish her darlings held or better to intend upon their course shared sublimity raised to admit every worthy end confirming Vision. Such company of the likely mates their frothing sea in ebb upon some waking shores no bit amiss to hopes for being becoming ingratiate to Life whose Limit none has torn or Powers broke to blame but Love restores with one simple kiss while, owning what is born and what the times and norms have tamed rescues bliss no Samson locks by harlots shorn for loss to shaming of her fame! Are we not like these things placed outside the spheres that ever in the honest image rings as true upon the open ear or, as distinction rived of late by them whose interests deny what Nature in her works relates of common wealth, true worth adored? It is no lore the mystic told when Unity had wrought the year and sprung to life from winter cold for summer warmth, unbinding fear as what is change and what is known among the living and the growth no bit retracting on what seed is sown in every breath, yearns yet the common hope. Were some so slack to give what all may need of sight or withheld from them that live under Life’s awful might the slightest worthy wish? Generous her horn was poured upon the darling ken and flung a thousand garlands round their bode and bower when she set them, Love accomplished. How then comes this abusing that men have used for rusting gain and all their trumpets, amusing what I need, U need, maintain? But One is firm upon the hearth while is turned the wheel in tending of essential birth against the raging thoughts, unreeled. No loss does Glory fear nor quaver in the thought of boasting men, whose pen but mocks their pretended tears that drop in tempt of mercy, wrought and lent but for the sacred ken. How dare the awful will or thwart the vision of her way in working out the dream that, more intent than greed or skill her freedom knows and wracks dismay upon the planks, arraigned to future ends, conceived! Haha, she laughs their vanity belied! blabla, take a deep breath and death, to life, alloy! So slunk upon the day the hero’s need set firm their brow against a tempest’s brewing which coming round intents confusion excusing, cruising what she sees among the vulgar, brutal folly whist others made to lay in wait or bid of lovers- String with Holly. SELAH……(sequence shift) So much preferred the pious privacy and gentle musing turning the altar of her silent prayer... but I will not flinch though it may well be this tempest shall strip me bare of means or else restrict what I may do for settled comfort such field of hope, the living work... liars, thieves, abusers of other's honesty are all in agitation now hunting but for blood as no gain may they have of further tyranny they once enjoyed... I even see them near who once were caught from folly bent for constant carping... who is this man; who does he think he is above us in ways seeing and nobility?... let's bring him down and tread him in the mire of our own judgements and condemn in the company of ours who rule this plane then watch him waste his hours scrapping for some bread from our table of Influence... haha, we'll drive him to the verge and clip his silvered wings in drop to empty wishing cast around him our brambles and raise up the thorns of our contention tearing him, small strips of flesh rent from his golden form till all his limbs drip with blood and his heart seethes with our mocking... then we shall laugh and gobble down his lovely fields spewing out his pretended worth and, thrashing out his darling hopes belch garbage heaps of wrath upon his kin our pure delight of death and murder in the light of all he thought for glory! Ah, the satisfaction when limb from limb we rend him slowly and unlock his joints of knowing, fling his bones upon the fires of our pure hatred and dance around the pyres of our sweet wickedness... O darkest day let us remake his hours for wasting torments and close him in with our own cherished drudgery and smack upon his rosy cheeks our sties and shitting treasures... then let him think what faith of his performs or what love of men his heart may prove when weighed with every stroke of our set purpose on his way he buckles, caught upon our nets constrained to mundane trappings and the shallow pools of our own stinking cisterns... haha, how sweet the thought that we might tramp him down yet and ring him round with lies his great torment and conspire against heaven itself in torment of the darling child... alas, what satisfaction then in semblance of his peace we rise upon his blazon orb and, snuffed upon our worthlessness extinguish his once ember soul our wretched selves overthrow him embracing all his time till nothing left of cherishing he falls beneath our insistent vengeance... hurrah, we'll have our way with him yet! Selah……..(voice shift) I Ah, yes There is such remedy for sure though it yanks me off my seat and calls for boots and whip and hammer and some fierce determination which I lately hung upon the sky in wait of what they yet may wish... did they think I passed them hours dark in the Woods encircled by the yapping dogs of wild and reckless willing to pander home through their boasted farce… or did I tread upon the awful floor of secret, rived oaks, perhaps Hestia herself raised in quiet desperation for the loss of generations but to return upon the hour and brook rank mockery in dismay at cunning trappings some chained or twining bush would now invent- Candelabra Inferno? Chuckle... they do not know what they awake nor what the ancient and awful Queen may perform as, side by side we weigh upon the balance every bit of war and desolation they think to command... and shall we bide their slights not pluck them at the roots but yield sacred mercy to their arrogance? Rather, burn within the Stock and Trunk determination such as they think now sleeps upon the bed of lofty inspiration… no thing to us stepping off the marbled floors to move in steady course upon their threshing... ought we then restrain this sight and bid her Majesty retire upon the Maiden's sweet influence or ought we fire her dark and awful eyes with our own weeping supplication move her now to stand erect with us stomp this muck of worthless men and tread out the wicked’s blood up to the bridle, their stain born? It is temptation! Do not say: We have turned aside memory of wrong; but stand near buckler, shield, sword and spear for war, to war, more war in smashing, rending, bloody mess which then will tell what horror means when Justice is mocked and our darlings strung with folly in the nets of cruel and abusive men... we barely hold these reigns and neighing strikes the Air hooves of whitened iron stomp the Earth and it shudders for anticipation of the worthy wrath, yet but restrained for respect of her Great Will. Stand besides and peer upon her face so dark with grief, so full of tears so noble in her pain and no bit dismayed by what may yet be done though garbage heaps shall be as common as were once her sacred groves upon the hills... O Gods clasp these dauntless hands, her Golden Child and open up our mercies Gates or watch what shall perform the ancient knowing on U’r Earth and shrine! Selah………………..(voice shift) "Then the earth shook and quaked; and the foundations of the mountains were trembling and were shaken, because he was angry. Smoke went up out of his nostrils and fire from his mouth devoured; coals were kindled by it. He bowed the heavens also, and came down with thick darkness under his feet. And he rode upon a cherub and flew; and he sped upon the wings of the wind. He made darkness his hiding place, his canopy around him darkness of waters, thick clouds of the skies. From the brightness before him passed his thick clouds hailstones and coals of fire. The lord also thundered in the heavens and the Most High uttered his voice hailstones and coals of fire. And he sent out His arrows, and scattered them and lightning flashes in abundance, and routed them. Then the channels of the water appeared and the foundations of the world were laid bare at thy rebuke, O lord at the blast of the breath of thy nostrils!": Psalms 18.7-15 "He makes my feet like hinds feet and sets me upon my high places. He trains my hands for battle so that my arms can bend a bow of bronze... I pursued my enemies and overtook them and did not turn back until they were consumed. I shattered them, so that they were not able to rise; they fell under my feet. For He has girded me with strength for battle He has subdued under me those who rise up against me and I destroyed those who hated me. They cried for help, but there was none to save even to the lord, but he did not answer them. Then I beat them fine as the dust before the wind; I emptied them out as the mire of the streets.": Psalms 18.33/37-42 Selah………….(voice shift) Who is this wretched crew who eats up the orphan and widow and who among the gods will claim them as their own? Let them come now and reckon what waste is fit to match their rape and pillage of Cere’s golden fields or what they think is balance when Parents raise up the scale and drop worthlessness upon their cauldron... let us see how they may fare in recollection of the wrong they so long ventured upon the weak and innocent and haggard, pilgrim kin- alter of this Earth! Their paradise, these gods may call it but it is Our sacred field tended ever for sweet flourishing babes made safe for ‘gainst every howling loss. They will no longer bide such weeping in the hope that some reckon better the fates and remedy what so long groaning has burdened hearts with tears. You shall drink up, O gods of the Line what you have made of History for Parents are not slack to call account nor shall they sleep one hour longer in Mountain Clefts nor wait your determination to repair what too long has been left in trust of men your works, not Theirs which still stinks in their golden face with corruption. Consider this and do not doubt They hold in thrall your kingdoms and may rend the shawl of patience and wrap it round your necks withal bind fast and sink you on the great Abyss! Mark this, O Air and Earth and witness against them what is wrought for pain and grief and sorrow on these floors so much of tears, the garnered times that flood the precious grain for rotting. Draw back your Waters, O Neptune or Fire accept into your lap and foaming, your range be made for Mist and, all your lovely coves dry up or be sucked down to whirling doors of Abaddon those pools, your Nereid's delight! Will then you rest too distant to any bit intend your great belief upon these shores? Reckon well your sea of men, for it is fixed and all that each has left to pretended fame and hope of men in mock of recompense and virtue on the just complaint shall come a flying and in sudden panic accept the seething Wormwood. Ares had come, and lingered here whom some call Mars though which is now in thrall and bound to better covenant which let his Taureen live though wasted on the field was great slaughter of his flocks. Too bad the work requires some sacrifice and if lead is cracked into the brain of gods what is it to Us that they rage and smash the towers of their own pride? Nothing though Care first recommends: put off the vain attempt against the darling child or whirling on your foreheads Force shall displace the wind and let roar throughout your will a raging torrent whistling more than Cyclones tell in Skyllas’ Pool when opening up on Leagues of the Deep the Wave drops down upon the darkest Rock and deeper dives in suck of Our set Furnace whose Prince makes walk the instruments of Need and Fortune… some favorite whose net caught some for laugh and folly when lust to power was tempted now too arraigned to give much thought of apples or the favor of privileged men. hahaha the golden Sun still laughs from whose vision none may hide and pats upon the back his crippled kin some better wish for all is weighed and none can escape their end the Fates descry. Behold how Athene flies in mastery of Air and treads on Flame her vast Integrity streaming Virtue across the open Sky in wave of Judgement Gorgon Shield embossing and more intent than Ares on the Field to match and cripple every very step upon the contest greater gods shall make for Justice! Some herding heard of company and the allied host to minion striving no true allegiance to the Lord and Lady whose fierce determination greets the times for proof while is felt the rumbling of many too much the servants of their way their own way trembles in face of worth to either one who stands above them Master Heart of Men and Women no bit dismayed at fields of slaughter or the loss vain men retrieve from crass ambition. Let them rend their flesh and feed upon a pestilential horror and smoke down their own possessions lately bought by piracy and robbery of Life’s sojourn kin! Come make your way upon Our Field and speak your minds to halt? what must be owned of loss upon the dipping scales now hung to recompense all ways. Ares, bold as ever though not drunk (too much was learned of folly) strides headlong on the Line and thinks mere confrontation is the creed; though Athene brooks the contest strides the dark and fears not the depths of sorrow shaking still her Gorgon Shield in quest of Justice not to yield an inch of threatening full of holy recollection that fears naught. It seems some wrath intending though the gods count every moment and do not doubt those things that come to pass by them who yield necessity still open armed to front the Fates they're coming, and espy each other's glory no bit denied but firmly set upon their Virtue will not twist a moment to empty wordings or falter on the wreck of this world’s pretended learning... they know too much of such and kings, queens, lords and ladies know whose vain pretension lost the day when Mothers cried and Fathers wished that folly may now end... so tears let flow as Aeons rolled their destiny. SMACK thunder makes and Apollo wakes in full breast knowing CRACK the lightnings strike from Sea and Sky some awful birthing. Rumbles on the Mountain foot vines and ivy secret sown and tempts the vanity of fools to tread the grapes of wrath too ripened grown. Smoke and billows in the sky with rage and fuming do not lie nor seas for teeming wonder why their tossing late seems not to end... but all the ups and downs that Fortune lends takes life to task and all distends in proof the Moment now espied. It does not wait upon the doubting mind but starts, stops, ingratiates upon itself, no care of brutal men allied… it's not some secret trouble now nor slunk in private ways to quest on wonder but espy what Heaven shall make and the Earth relate of boasting men... or perhaps you gods think that all this rolling thunder is spent to entertain the thoughts of men who may, or may not embrace their life? Open in sight of Horizon It hastens to appear upon the Call and proves glad that hosts of Virtue first convey and not that motley crew of pretenders among men who yet the best of sacred hope may strew like Tares upon wasted fields. Yet, much here is done which should have been done before this day for contest among the gods... still marching on their way to see, more face to face the golden children come who wakes their will and requires they give account to Life’s great King and Queen or from their own cherished breast draw out who IAM is and smash the rotting fortress of the world, its tyranny and burn them down to Pluto’s dank abodes! U should see her Virtue now how proud she strides upon the wave and Neptune glad supports her and how the Mount of Wisdom is raised in praise of each... well met they now comply and waking to the contests of our Age greet gladly to remake what once was lost upon the sage of men too much relied on vagrant willing or the pride of ruling states. There is no wonder who is Just and Ares shirks the contest though he seeds the times with herd-like raging among the fools... not un-espied by Prince and Princess, who watch and on the circumambulated ways, extends the wretched faults of men upon the sacred Hearth and whispers about Beauty and the lust which some have wrought in semblance of Freedom but bought inevitabilities of the divine. So war trips on the limit of his strength and snatches what is his own not defending what is made by minions of the many, boasting for war and wrath and pride among the worlds of men; but, well enough now as then as Maiden wisdom rises and courses the mane no bit withdrawn in face of fear or wrath but lurches on the goat-herds of his fold a vengeance worthy of the name of Justice wrapping all upon the surge and wake of Air and Fire, mastering the winds in torque upon their way a wheeling verge and fright more screaming than the Harpies for the loss of naked kings and more forceful than Vortex diving on the Void a horror evident in proof of loss cast in the face of wrong, which even Ares dare not contend nor fly upon the Gorgon Shield and awful mind of sacred Memory, so cruelly disgraced. So great the Fury ranges no thing escapes but all drawn up… the time for argument now wasted and the crash of worlds' vanity is awesome, shuddering in wait of the ripened cup the gods have tasted. “Tear down the towers wreck the walls and undermine foundations of the Liar, whose deceit yet works to rape my gardens and sacred groves of peace and security of honest hope my darling young must needs ever complaint in loss of…” she said... “Pierce upon their power and smash their halls of counsel and their shrines of cruel conceptions and the will of Domination!”: Athene: no babbling princess of the dark shall any more noble strength deploy nor wiccans under the sacred oak tempt for knowing thought, unless alloyed to brothers, sisters, friends and lovers, All here employed to grace and sacred willing... but a patient choice upon the way of pilgrims shall ally the doubt and from the loss of all their days find her sibling's whitened darts spent against their foes whose earthly woes shall not extinguish what they've shown of doing and acquiring against the hopes to simpler, better men, Gaea sown. It's done now the first part of Calling and Response is made for the wandering... so, I sit in vision of this moment's worth and wonder whether I am alone or if the sunder of Air and Sea is worthy to catch the morning star. I live and my heart rises to fulfil what others wish of me, and more surprise than Warlocks bargain for or Sorcerers may perform or Adepts my pretend for cursing I hold back still, and swell my boarders though Hestia knows, and Gaea taught me well to mean half of what I say, maybe less when lurking among the troops of stalkers. I owe them nothing, not even truth but test upon test their secret determination and private thought for each man or woman is a sphere that bends the rest upon their orbits so if I come razing through their inclinations like Comet through the sky it is to smoke them out call it...a refiner's Fire. It is for seeing and what Rules are there among the Free? but symbolic verbiage of what Grace may wish which is no potent work to perform what is Right, or Just, or Dignified… I examine the matter more close and it may be pity, it may be fault of mine it may be mere mirror of what rules there with some and even 'open-mindedness' can be a Dogma though and I am not one to argue anymore such nice care… my thought is more severely upon my own sphere than any Lord or Master may intend upon the needy subject; my own fields lay open, and there are those who graze here safely, without the BOOM of an apparent testing. This is not all for us to estimate and we are not the stuff of other's need, nor they of ours but we are Image of the greater Powers and upon their Call we make Answer...I do not fear the explanation before the Ivory or Crystal thrones of Majesties far less the Dark and piercing Eyes of Hecate whom I know well, and bide with often bloody contest not against her will but on behalf of our Great Memory of Wrong and against the cruel, some Harpies screeching. If when in saying they know and yet deny her great Sorrow speaking: All is well, All is well...Peace, Peace then I know they are false. All is not well and awful things stand at the Door; but enough is done for now and Hera nods: my darling child, rest from your labor hold fast against the Nigh bide the shadow of my Hand. I kiss your bloodied brow and raise the Voice of Fate upon Our Hearth My Will be done. It is not for you, child but that you have come so far upon these awful ways that men have made for wrack and ruin. (she lets drop a tear upon my cheek and I step back from the fray). Let them do as they wish then, I care not my Lady. They may accuse me of fault in this thing… what is made for their own doings I can neither intend nor withhold… it is well enough for me to here reply upon your awful knowing for silence, and somewhat the peering eye of Destiny. In the face of some other's contention IAM not so dense that I cannot say as much about myself as others say about my faults though I do not fear such things but laugh somewhat inside, knowing whose hand guides these seeming contests, not for proof of argument or to salve the cares of them who know so well, better than I what comes about for testing; yet I know a better way which I prefer and which I will perfect... it really is not so much my business to unloose the Furies nor test these ways so set to have it some way or another to their own confession of worth or discernment... it's fine with me as I am not master of my times, like them of theirs nor do I rule the gods, nor gods rule me but to stand in witness of their doings and walk besides to see, sometimes to speak, what they may wish even when it means I step upon some broken glass of my own shattered ego. what's that to me?... it comes round fast and worlds of lovers hem me in touching all of my best hope. I let all things slip to sacred care and do not pretend to demonstrate, in every moment what the Sage may prefer, or Healer intend in every word… IAM not my own the gods are not as fickle as sometimes my better fellows who know so much to down my seeming faults and in their preference, chase me from their folds. They think they own their moments well when called for is patience and enduring movements whatever they may bring still as we may bear, tending our Great Heart which is no Nurse of simpering good-will nor made for downy pillows of ease… or as may be said- we most see others for their worst our secret image, shadowy felt and mentally denied in condemnation of apparent fault... and how we judge, are judged. I know this and pray to turn on Grace childlike faith upon Whom matters... our Great Parents... blessed be the s/he. No harping please, upon such things... I know too well our maturing way... what yet is left for our own perfection... no shame to own what any fault be given of Humanity... why rail at such if hands are clean of outright malice?... I know of much greater faults than mere cursing at the Limit some set for others in pursuit of Truth… that's laughable, when pondered. Will gods strike me down or Warlocks, Sorcerers, or Adepts of Wisdom pursue me through the Dark Woods where I live in hunt of my own simple soul? How petty that truly is and how them who step upon such course invite my Queen their Queen, their awful Queen in answer of my childish ranting… I too pray as much for love and grace nor will I boast what is that Great Will at work though I must suspect on Principle we make our beds by what we think of ourselves and others; as for me...offer any fault and I will ready confess it but no charge of ill-intent do I yield to judgment. And here she comes our Venus on the Sky and lends a nice recognition our own relied to what must seem our surmise or in the better constitution of things, not bother for what men have, reasonably, denied but silent watch as it unfurls irresistible to mind, and spirit born. How it ranges on the Sky and each to each their measure lends in no confession lent of why they meet and speak of nether ends… they slept, we slept, life is a sleeping and the wave of wonder is no thing for gods or men for pleading but is set to course and ever lives… stand by, stand by O hosts of heaven and witness take; soon enough Virtue glistens when each of each betakes what's best to be owned or forgiven or wracked on Vengeance, all disdained. It circles round about on verge upon the spheres and ponders yet what may be done for best or ought, lets drop of tears… turn away the fray and wander backward to the Woods; Momma is well set to keep them rolling extolling golden dawns in ancient fields… silence be our nurse for a moment and alloy every care to movement, unrehearsed the patient friend forbears. Even if well argued the Dark Queen would not contend otherwise... but gods help us restrain these iron fists and comply the wish to grace for best of each and Peace upon the fold! It may yet rush upon them like a river of tears and we shudder, for sure to bend upon it's torrent our own good determination rightly weighed though pain is all the cup if sorrow is a goal of living; let all these tears make sense and wend the way of weeping not too much lent for wrath but plead of mercy in the dreaming. Selah…..(voice shift) More cups of tears may we relate than cauldrons of rank despite that cruelty has made while all the loss of innocence ingratiate to our best heart and lasting state! Dare upon the golden bow O fates who wend the ways of men and weave their pride upon the arrow; snatch and conceive to mend and mark our course... the grace of each will match despite with better times, our faith rehearsed! Come here you weavers and Norns of ought for Destiny and satisfy our ageless heaving and birth of all that worthy IS! Tears, tears, ever more tears roll the amber race and wet with salt our tongue; spend down the crown of glory in the soul, yet unworn and weep, weep, still weep for what is lost and cannot keep against vulgar men that being spun of horror, many shall believe and still weeping mend the broken ways none will forget of what the orphans now or widows plead to God their hope bereft to drain the dregs and sweep the earth of sin from out the clutch of death! Even then, weep and win what Memory still holds of Peace and live to reap the pain of all, relieved of sin. ……………………………………………………………………. It was for friendship to conjoin their hope to the best but squandered worth upon self-deception the wretched crew of vulgar men more worthy of volcanic blasting than sand from bellow of the gods no less determined for constant self-inspection. Steps back, and back, and back… we should not seek what Hera shan’t forebear of knowing in the awful wrong nor lurch upon the vengeance without care of how our great Family may thereby and Life itself fare in absence of the grace we’d bear... blessed be. So early yet might Persephone tend the ways of wrath or prove the mean the minds of men made obscene… but pray wake them from the dream and be quick to shift all of this and own upon our ways all saving Virtue, not a wit of all this vulgar shit to keep for dawning days. Help us then, dear friend against our raging foe and all your wisdom lend to doubled mercy and bestow strength to faith, not otherwise than as above, but so below in you, in us, our enterprise of worth, by truth allowed. Time enough for contemplation and grace enough for life... We pray in need the token of face to face surprise! I kiss the deepest darkness and dip my head into the Void no trust of self but what hearkens to what in each is employed; wreck me, fault me, rend me down to bones and flesh, then try defend what Memory knows and endows for Justice on the mend! Proverbs 21.12: The righteous one considers the house of the wicked, turning the wicked to ruin. .18 The wicked is a ransom for the righteous and the treacherous is in the place of the upright. .22 A wise man scales the city of the mighty and brings down the strength in which they trust. In no way let slip the determination though it wrack to illness sometimes and smoke to dismay of others... yet, the heart weeps for it as such and we bear it up as best we may confessing our own part in what passes for war in the world. Do not change, brave heart but be sure of this… the true soul ranges in quest of bliss such true living knows of honesty and ever proves for dignity. Did they think the demonstration ever lingers on the fields and tinkers, winks, and yields to reasoned thought and concentration? But firmer than the oldest rock we stand, intending what we owe to all this world and worthless rot for what it did, and what it's sown. Better now I stow the part in patience of the orbs intending and rest upon our noble heart in wait of actions, all extending; watch it then, watch it close it opens on the waking times as pages of the sacred books to speak our end in wending rhymes. I'm sorry for the loss sorry for the shame sorry for the wonders tossed to empty men, forgotten fame; I'm sorry for my faults sorry for the failed home sorry for the awful doubts in mires of men, too longing owned; I'm sorry for the pain sorry for tears, too often spent sorry for the worthless gain I got and lost and won again; I'm sorry, sorry… tears roll down and drench the heart for knowing; I would this little story dress with gentle down of sacred nests, lovers brooding. It tears me, some thought that thinks me but aspired on ways of time and pride, or doubt lately transpired; am I some victim of fate or falsehood cunning blown that I may not relate what wounded friends have known? Catch me a mercy let your heart reply for what we share of grace and all the world of grief deny. It is your witness and your friendship that lends to the moment its importance... have we not seen that each in each belies what all the world requires of revelation and care? Stand against the tide of cruelty and forbear to what our fondest hopes in times of groaning dare. It does not mean we forsake the proof of parts when we assert disgrace of vulgar men and sophist arts but set against the wave of those whose thought intends vanity and empty praise we wish for best, our truth to comprehend. Who are these studied idiots that measure men for worth and rely on qualities of reasoned wit to prove our sanity and human birth while from their frosty minds contrive to speak of truth and reply in stead of faith that none can prove a sacred hope, but from their vast lies of self-conception move humanity to the trudging servitude of minions, waking on their power and every hour bend honest wishing to gratitude of master men, pretending special dowers on their own master souls, coequal with determined time and culture’s best or in the learned sequel of enterprising will, conform the rest to service of superior interests? Some sanctioned slavery and domination. And why should any own their cruel obsession when all the world weeps for loss and orphans, widows, homeless pleading make sure that justice, gods emboss for wrack upon these times and endue in semblance of their wretched facts they hold and teach for rank dismay and wreck for simple ways, though more true of spirit every honest soul purveys a contest against what the false upholds in stricture of the binding fates where men, whose ignorance is disgrace and who cannot discern the new from old but drop upon their own disgusting race of arrogance, extinction of their breed and like weeds, cast the worthless seed of tares the angels said is fit to travail the proud, in semblance of the dead and fell to reaping every lofty head that rose in boast of power, reaping doom. Yet the weak shall not tremble on the verge while their abusers, caught by determined strokes teeter on the form which life must divulge and gods upon the proud their wrath indulge though kindness of the ageless heart invokes a just and worthy end, waking the past how each in each the way intends and relying on the first and last of Worth the honest souls commend drawing out the vast association and, confirmed in what faith espoused prove their own good and true relations no fault their souls on each, but hope aroused when, working on the humble way caught life to light and, as a thunder stroke fixed thoughts of truth, tending the simple lay their poets dream and lovers spoke of peace and comfort in the brightened day where mothers’, fathers’, brothers’, sisters’ inspiration taught faithfulness, if not the need for breathing room. it is no airy flight this melody of thought nor absent to the fight of men and wrath begot solid as the ancient rock it rests with sure intention and speaks of what is wrought for truth and upright invention you do not doubt this and comply to thoughts of time, both past and present and wend a gentle way, relied on faith and grace for sure retention have I said as much, or been absent when doubts have dropped from darker skies or have I said as much, and was present before a thought tempted to any lie? IAM present the field is sown, the seed is cast and all the reaping lays in wait for sun and moon, whose light is last and first of every bit that life relates such is our grace, such is your face that shines upon our distant shores and every sojourn soul conflates to heaven sent hope, their love adored my heart groans and I would reply to every worthy thought but constrained with sorrow I must deny to fill my verse to countless hours... such as I would have I forgot to lay my stones or buttress all my walls in glory of what gods would own of templed minds and sacred halls? I stand upon the verge of light and architect the world to come no thought of what my might performs, or what for men is doom what is it to me that worlds roll down and all of rage they dismay or shocked to see their cherished crown tread in the muck of disease? I laugh and clasp upon my belt up-gird my trousers and let fly from deepest draught a belch or shit some more upon their stinking sty they ought intend my grace and plead upon the hour for time to yet erase what's known for abuse of power I will not relent, I will not sway from off my knowing now nor sleep in silent ways they thought I was, today allowed for waking of my will and proving of the part that touches still the secret chambers of the heart I am for testing, they for fire and all the world to chance that gods foretell, or conspire for fate or luck or constancy many have I loved many have I known many have I lied many have I listened many dreams come true many silver linings many seeds I strew many fields of trying metal is the mind that knows what it is missing metal is the word of gods, and angels listen ha! do not wonder how I come then as your own heart has called me nor doubt the times we wend for majesty, our shared truth and glee I will not sleep or take some rest which others know or betides the time, but trim my tress of heaven and the earth allied sleep though, my darling kin and rest upon the kindest bower that overlays your best with potent grace and awful power I surge upon the open seas and sail the vast domain of gods and men, all arrayed to what I will and maintain I drop it here and prop it there all marbles set to form and bend the air in service of my unknown norms they'll wake some day, these slumbered souls and find that all around them is built to heaven, cities owned of gods and stainless burdens... they'll weep and laugh and dance about in joy of what they find then drink my tears and mock the doubt they once indulged of wasting times gazing there they will see how perfect is the holy way and awe to wonder every glee they then enjoy, their hearts alloyed with every bit of grace and tinctured with my care wipe from off their face of history every disgrace the proud once dared in mock of life with wretched strife of greedy lust and ambition. the morning rises and the care of ages wakes new birth emerges... the angels sing every state stands ready to reply set them in order round about the dimpled sky they move together by force of being and wonder why is this mere seeing or some dream? it is your living in moments of believing ah I understand it is so nice hurrah we comprehend and vanquish vice walk along, our way extend talk of song and lend our best upon the hearth and all of earth embrace be strong, our hopes mend lift what each depends for faith here and all of worth, be near of grace Oh...the songs the world comes undone glaring at the sun Oh...the ancient wrong is arrested, now begun the force of One don't run away from the pain it's just begun... don't disdain or faults relay to what is done dear heart, how well you are disposed and near upon my soul for wishing... sacred, silent, groaning from our depths kind as mother's cooing or fathers for the strength of hand great comfort for these sojourn bands and nursing to my thought... evident love care of honesty you are my nesting dove and I your chirping young... how well your care my peace I rest and bless the air your words drift on to me and I wonder too as you for them and Us in hope we may all perform our cherished will of all, in each for best, for beauty, and for awe our own great Life. PART II THE VOYAGE OF ICE, WATER, AND AIR JANUARY 26, 2004 I'm gonna rend a little slip in the Veil tonight upper North West sky, behind my Pyramids look for it by 4am it glimmers till then, and sways to the Solar Winds... a guess how to start the Turbines and keep running all the while pure, clean water as a 'fuel' and making not so much as a single bubble of air nor separate H from O nor oiled to spill save Emerald squeezed from Photo Cynthia of Heat and Pressure no expiration though but Tears of Life born in form like unto carbon steady formed in web of lending each on each a joined whole... Epiphany I had a wife once when I was younger and knew her at first sight... it was quiet comfortable in family whispers' coffee, grandmas loved and would not forget I embraced like a worm into the apple rind crying and scraping don't leave me! and they wrenched us apart with tears and awful wonder... then grandma gave dad a Morgan Silver Dollar where in Trade of 1800's quested East into the Rising Son their Golden Child! (and I remember that Night their Santa Clause who showed me not his Eyes but hid behind them jolly at my Fright as he Laughed my Mother’s cooing leave the Child alone he does not like this hiding nor the clacking of your crew though comforted here pleading in our arms… go thee away while in the former how leave him here to his mother’s son our daughter, his own? handing over instead the Silver Token. O Ainu, I knew! I am awake but I thing, somehow still sleeping... grab my hand and shake the links of seeming... twist and turn the knotted screw in sight of reaming... learn to burn the rotten dews in flight of reeling... acorn nuts tortoise shells heavy lots poppy bells broken lime red-grass leaves sweet-grass weaves keeping time in the breeze ... sweet clay traded river dells winds abated forests tell push the sunrise garner well flit the sky all doubt repel destined time for you grit and grime polished true yesterday, for a moment man, then of age the growing portent of a Natural Sage... loose the self in a morning star tweak and pelf the hem of your beloved... blink of an eye sun gets high verge the sky to all bestowed... sailors row unflinching why as honor raised upon the pyre... winds and rain and tempests blasts cannot bewail the sparrow when all of pain wrested from the grasp of praise besets tomorrow! still building my shipyards feeling so sneaky not like a thief but cat prowling the shadow... chimpanzee sneeze too brief enjoy the spat howling to the hollow fish and chips with a postcard in ease to the backyards... table and urn water and wine all is learned trussed to a T no mere postcard addressed to see but the backyard praise and glee where the garden in the rising hopes to be and the warden fit for tying prays to leave... I got my lover in the motion dedication, devotion turning night to day the Walk the Waltz in Stride Front Feet it's hard to lose but Heartache is best to prove and here comes Johnny singing- he's got the action the motion, devotion turning night into day singing of trouble and strife... then do the Waltz on bye. Horizon bells don't they want to see? Like Moses parting the Sea is the Holy taking Power over me... don't they want to go to the refuge of the soul sometimes to show how to breathe golden whole and sacred reverie... baking now waiting for truth the bells total honesty no difference all is seen all tells amazing days along it's evolution... so to prayer, a wish shelter from the night warmth for my feet in the breakdown of the fight following me. can you see the Moment when I call something to rely on feeling inside what went wrong not proud to be right like an island all alone not too strong no less of truth but tears down the cheek to love me long be there for you as for me when all alone I know how it feels... world on our shoulders not to be proud more right than we need be or be strong or bold to see they can trust thee when they know the Ruth is gonna hurt them not just standing there to say nice things nor to push down but you will take them Granted and All Will bowl them over with Love and Astral Babies ... my Horses are neighing and my barns are full... the Owls are praying and mice lull all together forever the beat of just hold on sweet midnight folding music inside you be there too dreams coming true feels so good crying me and you spread these wings flying show the feeling spend the reeling river enfolds life is told turns to music all we ever lose ... hide the Jesuit making is spruced let them know what the night can do and be happy to let it brew... they don't know breakfasts served let them know what the night can do. Anchors on the shoulder ropes upon the chin no one no one ever is to blame... build the mansion but don't live in it... fastest runner but don't win if you want her and she wants you walk over the world no one no one ever is to blame... see the Southern but can't reach it last piece of Puzzle stubborn Lines to fit still feeling the pain but ask the Clouds and loss runs down the drain as no one no one ever is to blame. where you going, there why do you want to? she said- there's the one I love the most and stars are not far behind... I didn't care but run my hands through her dark hair and prayed god let her help me fly away when tears fall down like rain and us sin if it eases our pain to go and walk out on day to let it be... wake up not more alone say be back someday look up, sigh delay and sun tomorrow praise... I tried to leave cried so much could not believe she was the same when I fell in love so long ago when she held my hand and let me cry tears falling like rain for it eased my pain to let her go and be free... I let her cry as her tears fell down like rain... I let her sing for it eased her pain to let me go and be free... calm to the caravan matter for you trimming the Horizon's line treading the simple truth... guess the circle while I'm waiting for my fuse to dry. sometimes they beg sometimes, much more though I'm bigger than my body gives me credit for skinning the seal or trimming lamps never a clock to turn... some day to fly to soar some day... they'll faint sometimes, much more for I'm bigger than my body gives me credit for bigger than my folly though seeming more... Ages tangle in the Power Lines over in a circus style down in the frame... ok, if that's what it takes to remember my Name waiting for my fuse to dry... someday I think someday, much more for I'm bigger than my body. now Cruising speed... have you felt the wind blowing on the Main and faced to win heroic deed upon the spray? there it goes moving across the water... there he goes turning the world around... it's the last part of the deal lay the heart on the line breath when we breath listen to the breeze color me show me the signs this time... who else will bring the golden arrow diamonds and reign? there he goes moving across the water there it blows turning the whole world around... feeling what I feel seen what I see cop the mystery meet you by the Witness Tree... leave the World behind crawl where you crawl get to you if I have to bawl announcing the sublime my cry- who else is gonna bring you diamonds and rain? then blows moving across the water it is gold turned my whole life around an answer through the long and painful fight too caught up with pain for many words to offer trying but sunk so low missing though better none should know ... turn of soul heart of old but I'm young can shift the Course the past undone but reveals the lonely light of morning the wounded hope that groans to heal falling sunk so low missing... better none should know- is torn the soul. they meant to take my hand when nowhere left to lure lost my friends turned, embarrassed one slip, misstep before you know it it seems too daring no way to be redeemed though I've missed them better they should own to come near here and kiss the soul... you there with the sad eyes beware, and bear the raging skies and confound it... true colors are beautiful like a rainbow shows a smile making happy then... remember when last time we laughed- take what you can mend then call me up ... I'll be there my true colors shining through not afraid to let them show true colors beautiful Water and Ice Bridge like a rainbow... when I last saw you laugh the world went crazy and I took the half kissed mercy our true colors shining through not afraid to let them show true colors beautiful like a rainbow. there's no one plan no one stands but needs to be free. ALL ABOARD! Our Ships have come In I sent a message over a week ago Luther's Anna Verse Airy... hope you don't mind but I showed him your Mural of the Dragon Hero now it's your turn go find him bring him back or us to him Master Masons Geometric Princess's Golden Child Fairy Queen Orbs of Light, All Duke of Meissen Knights of the Emerald Order Elk Lodge Foundries LO! Madame Chevalier, duPonts Cousins of the Orange In full array and Mary Queen of Scots Pouring from Open Goblets Crystal Raised Georgian and Elizabethan Sovereigns Victory Praised Hammer wrought Generosity Sang and all the Lands by Sea Embraced! here is the Generosity of U that I ever wish and dream upon in fondest expectation dreaming still and dropping tears in fame of fortunate friends more wealthy than mere gold but lathered in the Milk of Embracing ever embraced beautiful Script fully alive Banker's Hands or Writer's Bands in Trumpet of Word and Vision of Heart a Lover's Paradise and Demon's Hell more Sound to Tell like ringing a Bronzed Bell Liberty not too Broken still ringing True and ever yet espied for Venture and Contest and Song of Heroic Worth to move Us every Time. I wrote up once Incorporation Papers had posted at Goals of Awareness Editorials which I got rid of a few months after I posted it all which took about six months to perform just from the get go ...fun though took it down too grandiose for the Mob. ha! that's what I said when I cracked Lead into the Brain of gods- ATU MIENSKE! running through the Woods to catch the falling Sun that last Night in November when I strung my Pyramids and said beforehand to the Groups: Such comes but do not ask to see my dark Pyramid... Shipboard Passage for September 10 in London after which we go live where we belong and no more wander in shoe closets or bathroom stalls or trickling streams around the barn in hope of all we are and what believing means… all we dream falls on me the beautiful sky and light you bring or songs we sing wends upon the lees... Spooky spends almost every waking minute when my Sister is not around just sitting or laying or licking, near me statuesque and dignified patient and yearning comfortable and snoozing friends for petting rugs for rolling hands for caressing lips for whispering ears for hearing skin for breathing blood for pumping sighs for loving tears for everything and love, in-between... Sail on, O Gleam of Faith and Venture yet the Seas in Quest of All, admired of ancient Rocks and lush rosary! now the Sailor's Voice and Wind Born Wishing... took my Gorilla Sentry down today felt it best to move his Bronze and splay out the Copper at the Doorsill of the Inner Court... I keep my Head to the Wall and Face Opposite Inner Sanctum where my Work Bench is and my Hands here I am in Concordance sow the brickyards driest in gold Vale gray Waist on Limbs and red Cap wresting from the Day in Company of Air and Light embracing pleasant Moments moving still by dint of secret touches bending the watery hills in wish of Ministry for where it lends and how Sound even in Thought Resonate courses Depth Perception there... I cleaned the One Chalice poured out the Treasure of Venus took the Other poured out the Hope of Nations now sort the latter or, better yet let them shipboard swabs suck up the loot and dare not loose between the Onyx deck boards a single trinket... HERE is the Sign in Hold of Some which they call All shall Appear a Frozen One among the Tepid and on it's Icy Steel build up the Mountains' Visage winding the Wind to Heighten and dressing the Field with Laughter Calm as Dawn Drop Icy Dew upon the World... and this is the Confession of Experience face to Face Our Echo that they may better Gleam when I send them back in Toast of Olympic Virtue where yesterday they set too proud of worth than to suffer Dust of Time which now I clean with Water and Fire waving or flying on the mean and every number leaned to smug and dried out husks of seedlings and snake skin molting blessing as the Hull for strength and believing. a Scottish, Music Friend who just finished her second Album is interested in our Studio... maybe wants to see closer what we are doing and how she may lend her Musical Script to our Venture.... what do you think? my honored Crystal Goblets in sight of Venus stand the furthest corner on the North away from the Central Plaza of the Inner Court almost directly facing, but for the Walls the Holly Wreath and Luminary Stone my Family Hung upon the Lintel of the Inner Sanctum where I most prefer to sleep on my Couch. HAHA not full already?! now that's a problem all should have "Oh, enough with the kisses all ready haha...have you lost your mind?" Now all is set in Order Copper Queen and she sits pretty ear-ringed blessings of a Brutal Contest she left aside when Wisdom spoke and did not allow Beauty chide or chided be... I have my playwright Works too which I haven't shared with BeingQuest or U my Stone-Gyre... gonna investigate and wonder what Visions we may Inspire all of us in Sculpture Paint Word Music maybe even Campus some Day when Quest Academy is fit seeking men with aneurisko Yahoo! you're off to bed with wafts of gentleness on your cheek and warm blankets on your brow moist massages for the lips and ear coils watered and warm-oiled... now may you see the Rainbow Bridge for what it is and not some Figment which most learn late or not at all... a Sea Born Defense of Proud Heritage and Dauntless Will which love and grace is friendship, your way though understanding falters like Horse in bridle how to best, always perform that which you know. (Jan. 24, 2004 1730) I charge you with something which may you perfect and none avoid of Accusation... but I charge you- let no one pretend the Hearth against me nor mock the sacred Voyage for I keep Naiads and Neptune himself... let them think well before they believe Fire may quench the Deep of Water or expire, by heat of Memory's insistence what Rocks and Waves and Air knows of Tribulation... I see Mountain Side and Vineyard Fields I see Cliff Hanging Vine and Templed Stone I see Sunrise and Moon Ice, older than old... what do you see Jack Flash sat on a candle stick? as Fire is the only thing Satan understands singing This will be the day that I die and sang the blues for food but we all said the music won't play... children screamed lovers cried poets dreamed... then the Holy Ghost caught the Air for the Coast the day the darkness lied... it is Present by too many, unseen a lift and resonance of one, the wealthy gleaned Lords and Ladies... do U know what I Mean? they stood there, silent sentinels hardly noticed I held back my tears And said- I found another Place just left me had nothing to say dandies, yes indeed but now they are free you know what I Mean? been days since I know when but I spotted her with my Friend yesterday, learned how to say- do you know what I Mean? Lovely Child then I scent upon the baking wind bread and milk molded like a bed and tinkling wines from cellars lofted in praise of Venture the living heart whispered and set to drifting more life, evermore composed the perfect Form golden Shields of Wheat Grass ramblings or Basket Trembling... noble Tears neither wait nor wonder how I may expire upon your grand worth but think, beforehand to check my tongue and display only thought in fixed enterprise of smashing waves and Rocks of surety... but future dreams that' the key. All is well just drawing up the Line or is it Lion? tamed is the Black Empress at my Feet or in my arms lovers breathe... perhaps I'll awake a Much-room Field for you and you may dance patient around the Force and kiss your sisters as you have kissed me with loving true no bit dismayed, here still working not in terms of what I may need but freely living. 0096 appended... had Mercury Cruise Missals at my left-hand all Nuclear dells Flourishing like sheep in pasture... but no more and my Field is Raised Shepherd of the States Native Prince Indiana's Chief Hiawatha's Crown Longfellow's Song Great Lakes Ladies Mountain Queen Servant of the North Captain of the Lee Park Avenue, Electric Quest Academy Paradigm Printing Goal's Books Wisdom Films Vision Gallery Assembly Aviary Water Work Aquariums Aborigine Cultures Museum let's start there... my Gear Wheel of Steerage mentioned hooked to the One, Great Wheel remember my little Nut Cracker in the Aviary we have first or last Cardinal Virtues Jay Hawk Cawing Gold Grosbeaks Pintails Loons Rose Breasted Grosbeaks Scarlet Tanagers Robins Thrushes Finches Warblers of every Stripe Flickers Pileated Peckers 150 foot Birch Trees Turkey Grouse on every Hill and Dale Prairie Chickens Roosters everywhere Bandies Cocking and in the Rivers Trout of every stripe doodling along Otters Osprey Northern Lights Moose Caribou Grizzly Mountains Steep Carapace Eagle Wings Bilfrost Bridges Pearly Steeps Onyx Balustrades Bronze Battlements Lazuli Brocades Silk Striven Halls Little Boy Blue Man in the Moon... that's why I need my Cutter both for Ice and Wood Rubble in Flood of Oceanic Tides Solar Winds Cutter of Solar Ice Moon Bent Frost and more Cutters of every stripe All Hulled Steel or some for Festival hand hewn woods Black Forests felling Ruby Palisades Staffs in Arms of Gold... here is Reverence either bowed in Prayer or Admiring Humbly from Dark to Light Visible as the Dawn Subtle as the Night Substantial Thought Old and Wise Shrouded Honesty In full View... U Are the Main the Wind the Sea the Ship the Glee the Hip and Joint the Rope Song and Dance the Loke the Brimming the Joke the Key From Dark to Light... remember the Lips remember the Frown the Tear the Tree the Rock the Bow the Field the Contest the Vision the Word the Bolts the Doors the Stalls the Times the Stars' Constellations the Love the Grace the Truth the Light the Life remember Love always sets us down in Peace and Strength. AND I GO TO THE SUN BY WAY OF THE MOON IT'S A RACE TO PASS EACH OTHER BY FOR EVER SAILING YOU IN YOUR PHOENIX CHARIOT ME UPON THE FOAM AND BLAST HURRAH! HERE COMES THE SON AND I SAY IT'S ALL RIGHT LITTLE DARLIN IT SEEMS HOURS WE BEEN HERE AND SHE SAID ITS ALL RIGHT FLYING, SINGING SON SON SON HERE HE COMES SON SON SON HERE HE COMES LIKE SLOWLY MELTING AT YOUR FEET PERHAPS MAY BATHE THEM SOME DAPHNE’S COVE OR SPRING FROM CRYSTAL FOUNTAINS WET LOVERS SPLASHING CHEEKS OF TUNDRA MOSS GROWN BANKS AND BEARD OF JOLLY HOLLY IN THE RANKS BLUE ROSE RIMMED RED ROSE DRAPED HOLY WAITING MARRIAGE DATE ... SHHH THEY ARE LAUGHING A BIT TOO LOUD BUT THAT'S OK STAINED GLASS LETS DOWN NICE WHITE TRESSING AND SAILS CONFIRMING BRAND NEW HULL WAFTS THE MORNING ONYX FLOOR BOARDS GOLD INLAYED FLEUR DE LEES CHERRY COMPARTMENTS SILVER FAUCETS PEARLY SAUNA DRESSED MOTHERLY OF STATE OUR FAMILY. Bring out the Choir there, in One Place nowhere to start again as Jack Flash sat on a Candle Stick children screamed poets dreamed churchbells betoken caught train for the hosts singing High Kind but does not pour down swells like a Cloud Witness to Overflowing Seasons for Blooming... UPP IT TEMETOO where the wind-cool-clouds fixed the landslide reflection made on the hills and snow storms raged the rills... THIS IS CON TEXT HAND IN HAND END FROM THE BEGINNING SELAH HURRAH SAABAOAHHHTTHHHS Part III “ARTEMIS AND APOLLO” do I look like shutting down I'm the whisper in the wind already there sunshine in your hair shadow on the ground I'm already there... best he had adverted to the counsel of friends and Virtues I just now spelt the best cup of Mead I ever made! my twisted collidescope to the Outdoors stark heart voyager beats in time with yours it is where we are enough for this wide eyed wanderer that we got this far ... I was laid to rest in kings and vagabonds who believe the very best is laid to rest I keep my tea in my cream, these days take it just a little bit past letting another win as I just breathe everything is alright as we just breathe times are overrated when I think how you feel watch chances fade how changes rage but everything is alright patiently breathe whispered in the dark hoping you're here with me... do you hear me? if I just breath everything in space between is alright trying for an hour something in-between Artemis turns beacons your admiration here these are the heights nobody know better than them that drink it I always use a piece of the Previous to make the new brew, batch as my breads just woke had to peel me from bed like a rind from the fruit... an hour late and counting... but Kali does not care for anxious needs or vulgar demands gulping down the cabbage of human souls' patch... some call it Kali Yoga I call it Yogi Bare whose advise to me was- When you see a fork in the road take it. here is Kundalini fire for Dissolution dissolve et solvere... but it's cold here and lonely so I pour my waters and steam up the place... puff on a candle stick Jack Flash 8 miles high and still falling... excuse me am I late again? yeah, but it's been a mad season the Fortress of Water is Ice and the Tower of Fire is Wind where they kiss the Wave is made and the Wake entertained... I linger in answer to the Call not too anxious to clutter up the halls with stander-byes, or do-littles let them drift or waft as they may for the time being I say... I am not anxious for the well fare. I promise them never will they hurt anymore I give my Word my Heart a battle of Worth forever has now begun look in my Eyes the feeling won't go away till life is through or I embrace U where will I go without U in my life...? I just wouldn't be living at all so I take you in my arms where you belong till the day my life is through this, I promise U every Word I said is true this I promise U I promise U gonna have a cup of Mead before I leave this morn... wonder how the Sky is whether the Constellations fly to tomorrow or on your knee pray. build the lives others told you own the love you never left own the things your mother told you when the sun lights your room coming down the world turned over and angels fall without you there... always some one there. no time left for losers stand or fall... coming down the world turned over and angels fall without you there... the walls turned colder without you there count down the halls and the leaves turn over then I'll become as you became to me. where they gonna hide when it all comes down? just got it mobile hearing test resonance reckoning scored lowest and highest now they pay my leisure's day for lovely generosity I couldn't hold the Mead but gut busted my spew under the garbage bin smell up the place with Nutmeg and Honeyed Cream Dreaming On Event she is Invited and Walks Free as Distant as the Hoary Head peering, as if upon the Heel of prayer and reverent homage none dismayed but Set as maestros of the Woods where whence I thundered and rent down the Veil Sacred Hearth Hera's Fire Isis' Balm there among the Cloven Oak no dry-rot wasting or pups cry out Anubis sniffs but does not howl then let flies the Ruby Whips while Dayspring Virtue carries on the Quest and heals the eclipsed sons golden Rays, Sylvan lays holy days, you know I just brew another batch when that happens but it's filling the Circle and washing out of Titan Stalls full round the gamut and belching from the very Roots Gorgon raging fore but soothed then to Milk of Honey poured with trembling hands on Fires of Salt lending some new Breath it's space allowed and brewed anew to gentler ways though to walk on fire that's the thing that's the Rock for Calling children musing Prehistoric Trophies and cave-bent Ceretops Inner Court ramblings Kiss . Part IV AVALON BY WAY OF TALASA I prefer putting efforts to your book first...I have lists of places that need work like that if I had the time one of the sights hooked us to a basket full of needs in the arts...also where places want art in new buildings... in my mind...I would like to take the ideas such as the golden child and dragon and find a new building which could house this or others like it...and your book could be wonderful with illustrations.... if I get too scattered....well ...focus and passion for the project ...the page you showed me today...he loves his subject and it shows....I have seen my work that is mechanical....and I have seen the ones with that "other" rather would I paint /sculpt for the other than for wealth the pics. I sent you came from direct experience...not from requests...although that is my job kiss think this when planning story line...the shape panels size conforms to the idea not the reverse was remember in something I saw at the airport a very large mural extending across the wall separate panels one leading into the other....and as another thought ...they can be any shape there are ways to make an arch or even/also if on several large canvases that fit together like puzzle too unlimited manners of presentation...I could go on but I think you know what I am suggesting....there are no limits except our imagination’s I was painting today I thought...not that I need to be clear in everything I write but that one should (as you have said in the past) be careful of choosing words but this time it is nit the words but how the words are interpreted.... know that I was saying that it was appropriate that I fall and find...and that you witness without interpreting or changing ...letting me stumble over words and ideas... btw...think about the flow of how we were speaking...we were already continuing the sentences....but the minute I was asked to think....a literal click happens...and the flow goes into learned response rather than intuitive response.... what made me think of it today was when I was painting....I lifted 4 or 5 colors squirted them mix and splash...2 brushes and waved gestures all over the wall...so happy...they found something to burst out of the wall ...a dark holy man eyes downward…as if in prayer or respect.....I step back and see for the first time ...after an hour of flow...and think...where did he come from?...who has the remote? painting is a prayer....the deepest kind of prayer except perhaps poetry ....and also when I talk with you...but ask me to tell you all the words and how to spell them I enter the click happens well the painting is going so well ...and it is so wonderful to see them enjoy it...they introduced me to a policeman from the county ...thinking of doing some sort of memorial for local police that died...asked for a card...it would be for the county court house...might be a sculpture too...I will probably come up with an idea for a presentation...either mural or sculpture...I’ll wait till they contact me in the night...awake without the expectation of desire his voice is mine and mine his a means for silence stillness...emptiness...surrender all those things that was thought to prepare ...yet gravity prevails and sends this solid subtle form toward distant stars of even graver solid form... matter holds me here....a fact I know this well as well as life is certain as well as dreams and visions as well as all illusion one only needs to turn...that's all simple gesture sought by master mage and man that fiercely gentle gesture that permits the longing's greatest blessing...nothing ah first cup of coffee in the silence of morning reflecting on our exchange....beautiful... yes you are the dearest treasure in dream I see I can reflect a bit more can't remember when I was that exhausted in a very long time pushing self past boundaries on all sides guess that is how to examine what limits to cross next feeling very left brain today perhaps because I have some of the every days to maintain before the day is through and I am going to go paint for a few hours/want to finish this last supper painting by midweek tomorrow I am going to crash...maybe stay in bed....maybe watch movies maybe write ...paint.... or talk with you I heard you singing in the night.....or maybe you were just humming along with old songs on the radio...:) kiss Before the sun rises to cast me back to the ways of daily habits’ before I loose the shards that melt like ice The night reveals reflections on event s that cast me toward the moon by way of the sun That crystal bubble from the foam of waves relentless in the stirring lifted both our words and heart and over every syllable poured both we and wiser still the spirit (for lack of a better name)there were the hands that pushed the letters on a simple board and spiraled to the air the gift of being song both harmony and single note defined in life’s expression of the all But then the fall Some words called me to think/to finish sentence on the brink of what was there beyond the veil The fall I called Help me Did you see me fall to confusion To hold clarity for a moment without effort To fly the main without the self The fall Extreme the contrast Seeing placement of mind and the linear hold us in matter and Me …the self Wanting to hold an old comfort of understanding Help me I cried Knowing if you are truly kind Truly friend You let me fall Within your watchful eye Remind us all the grace to save our self I fell to sleep to escape But as always I knew the fall continues Till I no longer hold the last vestiges of fear At arms length This was no north or south or east or west But above and below Seeing reflections of fearlessness for both the animal and the divine If I were to tell you it would mean nothing But clear So clear Upon waking I know the answer to my own question "how do I love?" I just do……….. I am going to send this before I wake too much…I have a sense of not sending if I reread the contrast last night was profound in sight Perhaps you see otherwise but it will yet brew today Tears that escape this morn have no name They are not sadness or joy Just bits of foam and shards from the crystal bubble. PART V DREAMSCAPES Be sure it's not because I prefer this Polar Stance but because it is yet necessary as being born upon this Darkened Valley of Death I set to Stage a Confrontation in Witness of the gods... and Mars, being bold as ever rushed to see face to face which on the 9th we set to contest... He wasted much of his Flock thinking to save his Satyr whom I let go or would have smote him dead for all the proud raging he has made... only for the Promise he reconciled himself and I relented though it cost him most his flock... then I took to the deepest Dark and strode upon the Templed Floors of Hestia, upon whose Court was Candelebra weaved of Ivy, ancient as the Dawn and Laver set before the Oaken Sanctuary of her dreaded Memory... I did not linger there but quick, like one who strays from whorehouse to Sanctum off those Earthen Floors and squated upon the Edge asking out loud in awed wonder- what manner of Shrine is this?! I knew where I was and what I was doing not so Surprised as I confess but it is Potent to stride upon the Sacred as if dreaming though full awake and Face to Face in Time or Eternity, together met see what others only imagine... as if one on the sudden as tangible as the Rock put their hands upon the Horns and shook the Heaven's Corners. It was during this these days and sometime till about the 11th that I made contest with the Dragon Face to Face... for he could not deny any longer what I had done, or was doing to unravel his devices and wring down his corrupt Princes of this World and fix them upon the Alter. If I could say what it was like to Face this Serpant I would compare what it would be for the Sparrow to front upon a Lion... and he growled as if in scoff of my little form. I did not care though I knew how awful was his Force and how raging he would make on me and mine if I did not pierce him through. So, I showed him some Surprise which he may have guessed but doubted being so accustomed to have his way with mere men... on the Sudden I clasped my Belt strung my Gauntlet and pulled it tight reached for my Hammer and rung him on the Head such a blow as made him dizzy... while he was dazed and stumbling backward I was patient gave a chuckle and turned aside to grasp my Boots of Iron pulling them up watching him still shaking his head amazed from my Alabaster Box grabbed the Pearly Stone and bent my way upon him... we were caught up in the Air as if the Heavens ordained the Contest and all around the Hosts came Rushing... I laughed out loud and Athene roared to my side not too close for she is want to let things be but is first among the embattled. As if passing a note between lovers who do not wish others see what their romantic way means when they play together and flirt their hearts for Friendship she passed me her Aegis just then yanked from out the Golden Hall and I winking at her strode upon the now raging Beast under foot, my Peacocks Tail. What could he do? But Face to Face he met his match in Me and opening his vast Maw in thought to gulp me down flew upon me... with my Left foot I caught his upper jaw which Viper's Trap pierced through my Heel and with my Right stomped on his lower... there we turned and twisted in the Air Gold and Red and Green flashing thunders Blue and White streaming like Flame from out the Match. Such roaring men cannot imagine or if they could let them remember what Helena performed not long ago and covered most the Land West of the Mississippi and laid low whole forests in the Blast. Now I had him though he had me too and all the Hosts held their breath anticipating what to come may prove of Ancient Hope as the darling child of Cere's Hearth had grown mature and had no longer relaxed the fierce intention to remedy the Wrong of Aeons. From my Purse I drew out the Pearly Stone and raising it on the Air screamed bloody murder shaking the Gorgon's Shield in his Face then let fly the Stone down his Maw... it was the rending of Mountains but soon enough I recovered it and like the Physician draws poison from a wound drew out the Stone and placed it back where it belonged. So as he coughed and spewed and shook Chaos from his Mane I clasped him by the neck and ripped his spinal scales from off him like a zealous Groom might rip the dress from off his sweaty and ambitious Bride within their Chamber... I snapped it like a whip from off him and with a breath turned scales to chain of Ruby and flung it back where Athene, yet in wait wrung it on the Air in shout of Victory as the Hosts clamored stomping on the Benches of their Seven Fold Arena. Ares hastened then more close than the rest save Athene and Apollo with his bow and Hephaestus... each had a work now and I waved them on- Come catch him! Ares gripped him by the tail and underneath they set to fix this Monger... Apollo bent his Golden Bow and pierce him through the gut; like a Hook it turned again and wrenched him firm the Line of Time tied tight while Hephaestus his finest Metal block in hand clapped it to the String and looking up they winked... I yanked my Left from off his Tooth and drew back my Right we all stepped away upon the Air and down he fell roaring and twisting all Dismayed... we chuckled and as he fell I shouted- Good luck with That... it is the best Magnet he ever made! Below, the Naiads waited standing up to their waists in the Sea and watched him fall roaring all the way and smoking Rage of Torment... Princesses among them stood together watching all the while and glad for the Event for they knew how long this Fiend had frothed their Waters and let loose men to cruel abuse of their darling pets. Here he comes... make ready, one said and another holding in hand a crystal jar charged with Lightning Seed they whittled off Neptune's Triton when he slept and they combed his tresses... standing together yet another in playful taunting asked her who held the Vessel- Can you throw it that far? They all laughed and she replied with a wink- not so far as he shall fall but far enough for him to know we have not forgot his wrong upon the Sacred Hearth... and she cried- this is for Persephone! then aiming well she tossed it... which just under the Dragon's Course of falling plopped upon the glassy Sea and sunk before him. Another, holding Demeter's Sickle raised up her arm and flung it down the deep in equal aim and just upon the Verge of the Sea when this wretched Monger would have quenched his raging BOOM the Sickle met the Crystal Urn and opened up a Chasm and as Moses parted the Wave so the Sea like a toilet drain sucked down a Funnel of Torrent and the Beast fell still upon the Air and every step of falling his hope to quench their Ire escaped him like Sisyphus and pending on his Capture Neptune blew upon his Rocks and smote the Deep Abyss another Falling... so he Fell, and Fell, and Fell while all the Hosts sung Hurrahs of Victory and Praised their Ancient Hope which Generation proved in Time and wrought forth their Golden Child from Demeter's Lap and Gaea's sweet dream their Force of Knowing All! Ainu (Nov. 12, 2003) One Evening Deep of Winter I climbed the Frosty Mountain pursued by Wolves with Club in Hand... I would have struck them for I like it not when the Savage keep close upon my Heel. But, making Space between us I scaled the sacred Birch high upon the steep Mountain side... yet, being too much of weight it broke underneath me and I fell, tumbling into the Sea. There, the Ice Burghs floated and round the Circulation went upon the Mountain... I saw it then floating on the Wave the Stalk of History engraved with Ivory Runes Mystery of the Church whom some know is Mary and on this Trunk I read the Stars and fixed in mind the Origins and End of All... thus clinging to it like flotsam on the Face of the Deep I let myself go as the Current took me. Coming round again I saw something deep in the Waters... and my Companions too said- let's dive it is our only hope or waiting here we will die. We dove then and swam for the Mountain's Cave... just a bit and up again we came caverned Mystery of Time deep under the Surface while there, upon the Walls like Idols in a Temple recessed, there stood one after another ancient Being... and Triceratops among them said- He comes We are undone! Then like dominos they lurched into the Dark and were gone under the Wave. We came upon the inner Shore and espied before us two ways... one to the Right one to the Left and one lead Companion said- we dare not know which way to go but you you sing best; choose one... and so I did and chose the Left more dark and more awful. Passing through the Gate and walking for a Moment in pitch Dark we opened up into another Cave and there, upon the wall to our Right was a Crystal Mirror Clear and azure Blue as the Noon Day Sky... Rising from out the Waters as far as the Eye could espy rose Thrones and Powers and Nymphs and Cherubim and little Cupids, dancing about... all of them singing in Concert such Beauty of Song and I raptured with the sight sang along the same and we all peered at each other in Praise of Glory... Hurrah, we had come and set our Feet upon the Circle of the Deep! Still, another Cave was there again, to our Left and I led the way to front upon a Deeper Dark as if we could have thought there was such. But shortly we saw a Light and found it was a Hearth and there, picking at the Coals was an Old Man mumbling to himself... so we sat down round about to hear what he was saying. Soon enough we discerned he was telling how it was in the Beginning and how he tended yet these Coals Deep upon the Mountain Roots... then glancing up there was a Shore just there and we were next another Sea more Silent than the Night... and from this Darkest Waters crawled out like a mud puppy a One Eyed Fish who resting next the Fire looked up at my Companions then turning toward me Winked, and smiled as if it knew why we were there and that it too came to hear the Story. (1992) These days have been fine and I have been burdened somewhat to understand your discomfort... I've held you in thought as the Dove holds her eggs under covert of the Maple cherishing the hour in hope of your pleasant bowers. Not that you should take part in what I have born lately... though in truth it has been Sun and Moon and others... Pluto bears against me and we hoist and smash each other on the Rocks... some smoldering some wrack and ruin some more of Pain though without complaint against each Other. And last night Apollo and Athene kept me comfort... and Hermes, Dionysus stood by sometime laughing sometimes folded arms waiting upon my Heel. Then as I waved the A's goodbye Hermes crept alongside as I said he would to others and in nod of me for I was complaisant to abide clipped me and I let slip my Foot from off the Marble Floors falling, falling, falling upon the Void. I fell so long that Light no more mattered and was but distant memory no bit in access of the Deep... I let myself fall with arms outstretched and head held backward drinking down the Dark as I went... till falling so far falling meant no more and I was suspended on the Abyss. Arms still outstretched I cracked my heart into the Night and from either side rushed forth my tears like lightning spreading more fast than Light in conquer of the vast devoid... who do you suppose laughed then when set upon the worst of fear that even gods may invent I embraced what IS NOT? So I remember now such things as I knew once both in Time and Eternity and send some of it here: It was an overcast day and I walked upon the Path wherein I was born... down upon the Hill I went and with the speed of winged feet and light as Air I climbed the Walls Horizontal to their Vertical and rushed along them in Circuit of going... then I espied there my lovely Daughter lonely as a Sparrow and abandoned by men to wander at the Foot of my rushing and weeping silently mourned her lonely desperation. Not stopping on my flight I snatched her up in my Arms and, bent to release her cry stopped suddenly fixing Speed of Going in point of Change at the Foot of the Hill and, Force to Measure cast her up through the Mist into the bosom of the Sky in rest of Security. There she remained and cried no more my darling infant Queen. Then, for me the Sky opened up and there I saw where I was Before... Golden mane bright as the sun and golden band upon my upper Arm Left, in Force of Might... then there behind the Vision appeared 4 smiles in succession then 3 frowns and I turned and found myself in the Woods another, in Shadow image of my Self. Grey, and Green, and Earthly smeared with muck and mire he curled his finger at me Face to face and drew me on into the Woods... I could not help but follow then saw him dive into the Earth a Rabbit's hole, it seemed and after him I went... tight as Elephant squeezing my chest and head and arms and legs and barely breathing cried- O Great God help me now and do not let me fail! My Shadow all the while with his crooked finger waved it in my Face smiling and sneering all the Time- Keep coming. I closed my eyes and trusted to my prayer... then spit like soap from out the wetted hands I lurched from out the Dark into the care of men... he turned me and I sat silent in his hands a little thing then on the sudden he clipped my peg and I jerked upon the Stroke embraced the Moon in full splendor my Arms spread out and breathed deep the Air... Birth and Circumcision (1989) It was an open Plane and I strode upon it stomping underneath my Horse snorting and charging. It was sheer Will and Force of Determination pending to the Mountain... there, upon the Foot I lurched upon the Rocks and, unwrapping my Blue Cape flung it upon the broken Oak where under, it vanished... but in the rush of Force another, who stood upon the Rocks and peered upon the Field in Grey, dressed like myself in Cape and Coat fell backward, bloody and dead. Striding then upon the Rocks I found his place, and turning raised up my Right Arm and cried upon the Field- It is Finished... the Battle is Done. A great Hurrah broke upon the Air and both Blue and Grey embraced... their whole Company became Friends. From every direction on could hear gladness and praise and mercy. Then turning to my Left I saw along the Mountain's side a Train of Glory... Wagons and White Horses Gold trimmed Majesty of Wheels and Red glistening upon the Boards that made for their Transport. It was a Wonder and as I watched Elders, in black coats and White vestments tipped their Hats to me as trotting along the White Horses stomped Dignity and Wealth and Noble birth their Way as they ascended the circumventing Road in Quest of Heights their City on a Hill. Then once their Train passed bye and all was Silent I descended from the Rock and set upon their Path striding downward. There, along my Left along the whole Way were darling young all dressed in White and Eyes, full of Tears as they peered upon me still striding slow love of them, and innocence filling the Air... they were embroidered boys and girls in fine borders of delicacy and I knew for whom I strove and for whose life I was committed... I let drop my tears and groaned to embrace them but, so many they were as far as the Eye could see and no seeming end to my descent. It was Time and they were Our darling Seed. I had to stop I had to be near them some one, if at least to hear a word from out their angelic lips. Drawing near one cried aloud though like doves cooing- Will you tell us how you endured this Trial? I broke in heart but did not show how many tears I knew now understanding better for whom I strove but silently moving I took from off my Helm an Emblem and reaching upon their lovely form pinned them with it and let them see a tear or two of what I wished for Truth and Innocence. All at once, they all sobbed but not as men do only one sob then a rolling shout as sparrows give in the nest when Parents bring some food. I stepped back then and looked along the way from back to front they filled the Road and stood there some little tear like mine dressed their rosy faces and I bent my Course yet descending as they watched more safe than Angels in the hand of God. Ainu (1988) Part VI TALASA/AINU MURAL Talasa’s Musings: “i have to keep remembering i don't own these things...:) >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> not always can the logic of the waves n flow find reason just to be observed perhaps the eyes of dragons or re members grabs her by the foot and choice? to drag the snarling creature with its teeth in ankle cross the templed floors or then again cut off the very foot to which it clings proceed to mend and limp the ages …..neither she lifts her foot away from off his grasp as if she too was pierced upon the heel as our sweet prince and follow ways to slay such fear or dread that wears the mask of ages past for now they are but dreams and photos of her kind not prophecy of times to come for some have seen in vision art and dreams so now she kisses injured feet washes with her hair and swaths it both with spikenard and linen fierce our times each moment as a token of the things to come… i know working the dragon would bring things up from the deep in sleep this is just about some of my personal demons dear one so bear with me if I share sometimes kiss ....about healing the woman in us all not that i have to explain ................................................ not always can the logic of the waves n flow find reason just to be observed perhaps the eyes of dragons or re members grabs us by the foot and choice? to drag the snarling creature with its teeth in ankle cross the templed floors or then again cut off the very foot to which it clings proceed to mend and limp the ages …..neither i for one would lift my foot away from off his grasp as if i too was pierced upon the heel with fang as our sweet prince and follow ways to slay such fear or dread that wears the mask of ages past for now they are but dreams and photos of our kind not prophecy of times to come i know that some have seen in vision art and dreams so now i kiss the injured foot wash it with my hair and swath it both with spikenard and linen fierce our times each moment as a token of the things to come… and if he should venture to the hearth of self or venture to the garden of the soul such strange reflections of such things not now or ever in the mind of man or woman rests and waits we talk of templed floors but so much more … the threshold of the heart so rather than be once again a pesky hound of god/goddess rather that i say the realm of want or need can never once exceed the gifts at hand for this i pray the words of distant horizons other times and spaces readying our arrival at ports of wonder… when all the boom and tremor of the day had had its play and bent those things we formed somewhat and put our heart to lend upon the alter one can not but be reminded of the ways that less than serve creation’s mend for this i send engravings on the sword the brush of love’s intent and hold the tempered steel finer hairs in hand it tests the edge of heart our heart some imperfections course reminder of the will still to be forged from finer steel (so much yet to be done) the form of word and brush your word the heart my paint the blood renewing with the pages inked in flesh reminders of the storms in cycles of the ebb n flow there’s more to come but never did they take to mind relentless nature of the heart the orchestration ha all that comes to shape the clay the stand the hand the cutter’s tools of kind the brush the pen and things that shape the mind but i digress the setting of the now is turning fast to face the form we set to real no matter if the hammer or the steel breaks flesh or pride or mind as long as movement isn’t ceased as long as hand can lift to form creation has it’s way with this i say from heart this i say from will it will be completed you have my promise you have my love that's all kiss my face… Solstice breath held swish of white garments crystal petals in rush of a new flow a moment’s pause …less than soft steps heard witnessed in the night quickening Her return toward the warmth of the Lover once again…” talasa POSTSCRIPT (in playful memory of GreatGrandmother Estel MacDonald’s Family of Northern Ireland, subtitled: Kiss of the Blarney Sprite of Fairhaven What reasons could there be? For sure, none just that you should be alone! So bright struck from your eyes, like stars The rays of hope when first I saw you That I said the day was dark for me If I had failed once to look upon your face. So now I peer the while, expectant for you As the earth turns toward the sun for morning light Revolving in my mind your form and features- How they draw from me lively anticipations of your caress. Alone? If you’re alone, it’s not for want of charm or beauty But that Man’s grown dim of sight and hard of heart Not to be moved, as was I, by one marveled glance of you. For once enough it was for me To look into your brimming eyes And swoon with ambrosial thoughts That you might grant me favor- So fitly joining each, as one Enraptured with our prime humanity! Smile then, for I am wont To play the courtly fool for you And entertain a simple dance of meaning. Yet one thing, it is no jest- If your heart’s as fair as your form implies More I’d serve respect and high regard Far better than this playful verse I now employ; For this, I’d broach with awe And if you dare my innocent and eager wiles to try Up-springing I will throw a thousand garlands round you Whispering sweet admiration of the soul That you, for this and laughter, then must say and true confess- I am not alone, far be it hence! COPYRIGHT 1999 SOUTHWEST STATE UNIVERSITY MARSALL, MINNESOTA

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