Tag Archives: enchanted

Of Mysteries

Bullet the blue sky

amazing grace

Okay, go on now
Amaze me more
Do your worst
You speak as though you were commanding
Well you got my attention now
I am the enchanted writer myself
Yet you speak as if to lead me captive
Chained to the very things you say
So have you met him
You have sat at table with him
You spent last night on his bed
Did you grow up in his vineyard
Listening to him whilst sitting on his thigh
You speak with very plain terms
Yet the things you say are mysteries
You speak impossibly simple things
That could undo the philosopher’s mind
How can you stand there and talk
Like you are no longer a mere human
How can you stand there and talk
Making me feel dumber than a mere human
How can you speak so coolly
Like it’s not a big deal
Well, you got my attention
Don’t lose me now
At least let me understand
This… this thing… thing you are trying to say
You got me destroyed by all these
My brains are out scattered
Into many different parts
Trying to piece together these things
How can you just stand there
Unceremoniously
And speak these things about God

As if it’s not a big deal*#!

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Odd, right, inevitable

Trees

He turned to face me
Speaking in an endearing manner
How could I resist him
When he talked like that
I was not even paying attention
To his exact words
I did not exactly hear him say
“See that tree”
I was all dreamy when he said
“Go to the tree”
I shook at his deep rich voice not hearing
“Climb the tree”
I was hypnotically following him saying
“Hang yourself on the tree”

Then I snapped awake
“What!!! Hang myself?”

Fully recovered from my stray
I hear his voice clearly
No illusions now
I turn away from him with sure steps
And go to hang myself

The Enchanted Market: Selling to Good or Evil.

English: A red sunset in Norfolk, at about 8pm...

I am seeing things and not “seeing things”.
I am committed to this obsessive act now.
It’s a new insanity peacefully residing in my mind.
At times the madness is asleep, completely at peace with itself and my world;
Other times the madness is industrious at its peak performance.

I prowl at the cliff and peek over the edge at wonders burning in this world beyond,
So magically thrilling, the fires have got be an illusion;
Or, symbolizing the intense power and energy flowing in this world.
It’s like something birthed from a Harry Potter movie about an enchanted city,
Else how can a market exist in the centre of a burning city?

Help!!! How could I claim to be in love with this sight?
How could I leave the comfort of my home every evening,
Unafraid of being possibly caught by some spirit-guards,
To come gaze at a market which bustles with the activities
Of trading in human souls?

Over here I see an angel with the halo on his head in a golden tuxedo
Pleadingly and aggressively (at the same time) haggling over the price of this human soul.
Just beside him is a demon dressed coolly as a business man in a dark misty suit
ALSO aggressive with the right mix of subtle premium evil intentions.
Each acting as though the other were not there; fully focused on the business at hand –the human.

The seller is the … HUMAN himself!
From this distance I can’t understand all that’s happening.
But when a transaction appears to be over,
The human follows either the demon or the angel out of the market
To his fate, having sold out his power of choice.

These activities happen everyday, every moment –
Humans selling out their souls and fates
To the angel or the demon
I am just an observer
With no memory of ever being in this market.

P.S.: Pardon my digression into the details of the activities
It makes it seem like a horrid place, but it’s far from that.
The pure awesomeness of this city is part of what has thrown me into this addiction.
And, who knows, I might get away with something out of this city (the day I dare venture further)
That I can show people as proof of its existence.

Thank you.