Power sigil

I rise like a terror storm, I stand, stand
I will arm myself, I am intact at my central knowing eye
The roots of me pierce the marrow further into the ground
My ascent tears through weakness smashing trouble
My power is raw, crude but aligned, and inevitable.

Prosperity is blood-and-omened fate born above flash floods
Side desires crushed under focused pace I flow with the deluge!
I will not long, I will not falter, I will form the threads of the sun itself
I will forge a deliberate, relentless fire in my heart therefrom

Miracles pour out of the furnace of my heart,
Draw fire, ardent sinew of conviction,
Bend reality with friction and absolute fury,
Enter deadly flows of a new, unshakable ideal.

Fortitude balancing every direction of my imminent expansion
Clarity hammers doubt into shards, I see! for God do I see!
Folds of metal in my resolve, destroy obstacles, and walk forward,
The steady calm is steel, this anchor as me is unbreakable

I want everything,
I take what must be taken,
Lands go untended!
There will be tax 

Power sigil rise

 I will rise in strength
I will stand in my central mind
The roots of me deeper
My ascent is creative power aligned

My prosperity is omened fate
Side desires and focused pace
I will not long and I will not haste
I'll form the deliberate pace

Dig down deep in this busy heart
To draw fire and ardent conviction
Until I have reality bending friction
I need to enter the flow of a new ideal

Fortitude courage across years
Clarity as a hammer over doubt
Resolve that I hold build and walk forth
The steady calm and steel anchor

I want everything
There will be tax

Glaze, glance and batter

 sugar my life divine
bring in the fragrance
the shine I pine for ...
My excitement
when Im your slice

Embrace my form simple nice
Taste the spice of my complex side
mesmerized see me rise
Divert your glance slightly humble
so you don't see my batter crumble

I accept you'll cut your ample stake
A hail of icing is such sweet fate
Heat and taste is oven baked
Don't leave me here on the plate
fresh and hot I'm your cake

Lack is infact clumsy

 We had crashed the comby van into the small creek
One of thiose creeks that used to be a river
Now it was just a trickle
stones followed the thin strip of water
Big banks of clay on either side
As if expecting some random flash flood to erupt
Clumsy handed over the empty food container

I filled it up with what I had int he front seat
It wasn't good enough for him so he threw it out
The little food we had left now thrown by clumsy
Who had mistakened himself for authority
But like quirky was just a slave of daily failure
Looking for straight lines on a round earth
So we all went hungry and resentful

Didn't take me long until I abandoned them there
And made myself tot he green rolling banks
Smiling I was closer to the grand river itself
No one saw my journey but it was rough and lonely
Now I was building a house on the hill above the river
Where there was abundant food and river water
Compared to the trickle I crashed into years ago

 

Summer of bodies 1888(East end stretch Limehouse/Shadows on the Thames)

 First one landed, east end stretch, cold summer day
Unrecognizable face, washed up swollen and gray
On the littered and pebbled vacant slipway
 the smell of algae and sour decay

Another washes up hours later
A labourer lost footing body floating on Thames shoulder
The tower bridge in construction, a riveter, a scaffolder
Or maybe even a drunken steeplejack

Yet they appeared, slipways, embankments and dikes 
Mutilated by hulking aggressive Thames river Pike
If the rats arrived before constable weary-
plainly the body would prove less heavy

One arrived and lay purple and pink on a mudbank
A solitary crow axed with it's beak, thud thud thud
Raised it's head to check for other crows and gulls...
Back to flesh, jackhammering through a lifeless skull

A slight tremble in the crow's neck became evident-
as mitten crabs encroached to hide under the bloat lifting
The stench of it all hit the constable in the rickety skiff
He cursed, and the jet black crow flew off replaced by a gull

Gull grey and white, beady and bold pecked once to stir it
Raised its beak full of carrion to approve the trapped spirit
that a nearby resident angel might swoop down and liberate it
Inquest officer marvelled at steam emitting from the body

The stubborn gull refused to flee...
Toward a shipmast looked, where an angel sat nodding

Never doomed by fate

 Emotions are the cause of the world
I went through the door almost fell
with permission without flaunting
I got everything I was wanting

I was after flavor and connection
I wanted to feel all I had selected
passion and hunger that never abates
That I had carried around for decades

I aimed and entered unafraid
Went through air claps and sings
I become what I was practicing
The ultimate phenomena of existence

I recognized myself in the persistance
Thus further in delved to no end
Who I became when out I was sent
Well I became a creator legend

A summer of two harvests(The homestead part 3)

 Back at the homestead his wives were working the vegetable garden
cooking in the kitchen and commenting about the daily tasks
everything was being talked about at the same time
Gareth was a quiet man he had no time for chit chat

However he still felt obligated to regard and ask after each one
perhaps it was the downside to such an incredible summer
Early abundant harvests with just enough time to replant
In scotland such a thing was unknown

maybe this was what attracted the bandits brazen
Knowing the local markets biggest provider was Gareth's homestead
They must have cunniongly followed him back after market end
Then set their trap the very next day

Not knowing Gareth would not be bullied or manipulated
No Gareth would put the two men in early graves
Hiding it all from the prying eyes of his six wives
Only his servant would know