Mayan Blue
Trinity
Triton
Dark Matter
Azteca (Part 3)
Poetry Poem
Fire and Ice
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From mud you I have fashioned
From Mother you I have filled
A beam of sunlight warms my face
I am dressed in its radiance
Hands that are hot you I have fired
Hands that are hot you I have divided
Paste white bubbles burst and bake
Willing victims to your loving smile
Hands that are hot you I gave life
Hands that give you I return to Her
And I transform to accept your gift
Becoming darker to have more of you
The Potter I am that fashions clay
The Potter I am that spins the wheel
I am humble to your majesty
I am as dust to your landscape
From the pit you I gather
From the bottom you I pinch
I pledge to protect this mother
This privilege you have entrusted me
Time walks you I have collected
A vessel you I have made
And by your gifts born of grass and tree
I will preserve the purity inside this vessel
That which you inside swims
This Mother you I have planted
I have not forgotten the chasm of silence
That which defines the void
That which you inside swims
This kingdom you I give
But to hear the voices of Her children
Would require the hardening of gases
That which you inside swims
This gift you I make to Her
And the greasy residue of slippery metals
That line the drain of all excretions
Her smiles greet warm regard
The love heat I make
It was to the bitter sea that I sent you
Now gather Her graces to your credit
With hands that are hot
Life you I have caused to be
For it will not be long before you are
The bones of a desert; hot wind of the sun
With hands that are hot
Vessels you I have made
Dust and sand, the hardened intent of which
Has long since suggested itself...
To that which you inside swims
“Forsake darkness you I command!”
I thought I once existed, but it was just a dream
One of many, I’m sure, and yet I think I remember it vividly
This light and this heat you I give
“Forsake darkness you I command!”
I saw you gather water from a virgin spring
A full moon betrayed your elusive silhouette
Open to light you I have made
A portal for light you I have made
But you are now as you have been always
A figment of my imagination;
A vessel and portal you I have made
This nexus you I have made
With this torrent of unidentifiable debris -
Tossing in the angry waves; crashing and tumbling
From mud you I have fashioned
From Mother you I have filled
I have given up on lofty expectations-
With the torrent came the mud
Hands that are hot you I have fired
Hands that are hot you I have divided
Your voice is but a whisper now; a sort of buzzing
I advance to question its authenticity
Hands that are hot you I gave life
Hands that give you I return to Her
Reality sends its roots deep into the bowels of deception
There are crystals lost and forgotten things down there
- Or so I am told
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Illusion of Self
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