Jerusalem’s lost Ark wind

Jerusalem’s lost Ark wind

16 November 2015

Stairway weary for pitcher Thomasz Alen Copera (2)
Courtesy Thomasz Alen Copera

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Swollen Polygon

My Heart shaped Geometry

On which side to draw

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Numbers dance hidden

Chance law of art’s memory

Fear outcome curse fades

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Loved ones’ blood flesh tears

Angry steel violence clinch

Evening rain, fragile fall

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Women dancing star

Wash sadness from soldiers’ eyes

Stone faces missing

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Invisible ones

Scream loud, torture unsaid sing

Own freedom bitter

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world deviantart com discovery_of_a_new_world_by_noize_b
Courtesy noize on deviantart.com

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Dead dance supports graves

Mother dancing wages joy

Foreign laugh anguish

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stairway distribute yamdallah blogspot com
Courtesy yamdallah.blogspot.com

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Humble Pi curve Arc

Kingdoms cover in bell shape

Secluded valleys

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Protect victories

King’s vanity broken works

Lost ancient city

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Build Ocean’s Rainbows

Jerusalem’s lost Ark wind

April’s histories

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Moon ruins footstep

Dried ambition dust prison

Desert life over

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Stop man’s Dominions

Love fall’s million stars

Distant planet’s fog

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trail deviantart com seashell_and_pearl_by_yangtianli-d5a92il
Courtesy yangtianli on deviantart.com

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Shape of my Heart – Sting

Fragile – Sting

They Dance Alone – Sting

Lost without You – Sting

A day will soon come (Translation of Il viendra le jour)

A day will soon come

August 30, 2015

(Original french version here – Il viendra le jour )

vomir lightworkers org
Courtesy lightworkers.org

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A distant call rings

Black echoes from beyond grave

Bring me back your blood

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Served bloody sausage

Of our dead future

Oh what rotten fruit

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Indigested dish

Brings back weary memories

From depths I had slain

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It I had reviled

Tasted it in weightlessness

Stealthily, hidden

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Heavy, disgusting

Sour-bitter of a dead past

An acid reflux

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Vomit your offal

Finally free my stomach

To digest other

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vomir universoshanti com
Courtesy universoshanti.com

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I would tear my skin

If it were to bear your stench

Make it new banner

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I will clamour loud

The withering of my sighs

Satirised in vain

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To live and then die

Of nature to wound myself

That in me slithers

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A life extinguished

I collected the ashes

And made a new shroud

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To die and then live

Did I have to use the if/saw (play on si – scie in the French version i.e. the if or the saw)

To cut everything

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A day will soon come

Where a beautiful bright void

Will cleanse my stomach

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vomir yoga4ayear wordpress com

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zU450iMsdOk