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My Love is VengeanceHe smacks her in the faceMy Love is Vengeance by squibblyquill
Then extends a hand
He cannot comprehend
Why she will not meet his palm with hers
Proof for the Existence of LoveWhen I can believeProof for the Existence of Love by squibblyquill
That I am loved,
That I too love;
Life, regardless of sorrow,
Pulses in vibrant song.
Yet when reminded
That we are selfish beings
Driven mad by ego, its relentless needs,
Such that true love,
Remains an addled fantasy;
No matter the sweetness of the moment
All of life proves death to me.
So living like the recluse that I am,
Wander on through desert sands –
There is no one here with me
To show that Love still stands
Amidst the frailties of our finitude.
The Hoopoe's SkepticThe hoopoe clears his eloquent throat,The Hoopoe's Skeptic by squibblyquill
Bird of Solomon
Preens his coat and waits
For his followers
To cross the mote
Into the eye of innermost reflection.
His crown is stark white, pitch black
And golden brown;
The magnolia weeps petals
At the sound of his proselytizing,
Her pale flowers drop
Quivering from hardy, waxen boughs
While the sage thrasher looks on
She has heard many a song,
And lived long beside the talent
And other mimids.
His speech is new yet familiar,
Stilted, though not like those
Who speak without experience.
His wizened song,
The hoopoe’s crown, enthralls her
But her speckled breast
Wears proud and still
Across a fevered heart.
'Does he know of what he speaks,
And does he practice his own art?
Or is his dignity a mere matter of show?
Whence comes this strange bird
And why do so many other winged beings
Fly willingly under his tow?
'Verily this one arrests my thought,
But is it not I who pass over
Plains and mountains
Year after year;
United in the WholeThe day has made us strongUnited in the Whole by squibblyquill
The light has taught us long
All stand together in the dawn
Though Sun seep from weary Bones
We are not alone
Infinite mercy made
of finite clay
Filled with colors, love, and sound
Such that no one bit should ever
In this endless cosmos of parts
You are not alone
HeartbeatsBreath.Heartbeats by timeraider
A simple act.
By wild seas;
A shell breaks loose.
Some steam escapes.
Two hands in mine.
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