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14 Comments

Comment by kathryn on August 15, 2009 at 8:16am

Superb, NL as always superb ! :)

Comment by NIGHTLIGHTER on October 21, 2008 at 7:31am

Posted:Thu Nov 29, 2007 5:08 am
Subject:& the shadow cast...
There he still stands, albeit the shadow he
casts is longer & darker now & yet it is more
colorfully defined, for Beauty has shone
around its edges, & he noticed that beauty &
color, as between Beauty & the darkness,
glistened trails of light that shimmered prismatically,like
some everlasting diamonds, the image of heaven,
itself! How could he possibly forget, his eyes
were wide-opened! & something he had known not for
millenia, had embraced his face - a smile! &
laughter came back around, as if so many little
children had come out to play! Most importantly
though, she had sneaked with her, into the
darkness, another friend & her name was
Patience, & she had this most excellent ability,
for she could stop clocks,& as they waited for
Beauty to come back, they could lean on each
other, so he wouldn't have
to cry alone anymore...Yet, even with his newfound
friend, Beauty was not between them, to form the
trinity.But the clocks have stopped, thus their
moments together are frozen in time, so he would
not forget them, & this is the most awesome blessing,for at
any given moment, & very often, all he has to do
is call up that dream & it appears as clear as
an azure sky in July! Given that, he is
somewhat comforted, knowing that Beauty
introduced him to Patience, so she too, must
be able to do the same! & each & every time,
when she would call up the dream, he felt it
also...So you see, their story was indeed
written on the same page, same blood & parchment, & one
day another child shall pick it up & read it, amazed,
with sheer delight & this will reunite the
trinity, as nothing & everything lasts forever-
Yes, he still remembers what her tears feel
like, & the Sun still rises when she smiles! & he smiles,
knowing that day WILL come, when they are united again...

_________________

Comment by NIGHTLIGHTER on October 12, 2008 at 7:39pm

She never looked quite so fine
as when she chose to shine
gliding through the spectrum,
the seven rays in-line
Of course, she once was white,
but much to her delight,
she's opened herself up, uncorrupt,
to what the seven rays incite

Comment by NIGHTLIGHTER on October 12, 2008 at 7:18pm

Let me guide you through your darkness,
I'll gladly light the path
And shield your eyes from dreadful things,
left in the aftermath
Protect you from what's still to come,
while darkness lingers on,
And hold you close, unto my side,
until the black is gone...

Comment by NIGHTLIGHTER on October 12, 2008 at 7:13pm

As the candle flickers in your eyes,
I see you are my soul's demise
reflections of things you despise,
you know the what's, I cry the why's...

Comment by kathryn on October 9, 2008 at 4:19pm

She poses for the camera
And the pictures are called Art
But they cannot see the tears
or show the loneliness in her heart

For they are the newspaper media
and they are only wanting crumbs
to throw to the customer who buy the red tops
That show off bosoms and bums

She will star in the film or a show or a play
She will earn an extortionate amount of money per day
She will play to the media , she will reel them boys in
But who gets to laugh longest , with the photos in the bin

For the media want NOW , they want ALL and they want MORE
And they'll care not as they walk away , leaving her drunk and on the floor
For the bouncers to remove , clean the vomit from her hair
For the media are not exactly known for their sympathetic care

They will send the pics around the world
Of Miss high and mighty gorgeous girl
In her low cut dress, pouting and showing all
In her drunken stagger , and the staircase fall

This wonderful industry called media
Making films, and selling papers
Reporting romances , deaths and love affairs
love the middle age crisis capers

But if folks didnt buy the mags , talk the story or gossip so
Then these media folks with cameras and mikes
would have no good place to go
But the stories sell, and the media provide
The means by which folks often thrive
On the suffering of others , makes them feel better within
When they read in the media of another's sin

Comment by MILTON ELIJAH RUSS II / NANTAMBU on August 25, 2008 at 10:10am

HELLO GOOD PEOPLE

GOD BLESS
MILTON

Comment by morningrovenow on August 21, 2008 at 3:54pm

MY PERFECT DAY

I WOULD DESCRIBE MY PERFECT DAY AS THIS:

THE SKY WOULD BE CLEAR, AND AFTER THE MORNING DEW:
I WOULD ENJOY THE SUNNY DAY; THEN FIND GREAT THINGS TO DO!"

BE IT TAKING A WALK THROUGH THE PARK, OR RIDE MY BIKE:
I WOULD ENJOY THIS DAY EVEN IF TO TAKE A HIKE.

"YET THE GREATEST OF MY DAY WILL BE THE BEST TO DO:
WHEN I COME TO MEET A BLESSET FRIEND LIKE YOU!"

Comment by Steven Rage on August 16, 2008 at 2:10pm

Pilate knew who the young lady was. She was Immanuel the little preacher girl and she was about two seconds away from being gang raped.

Pilate appeared at her side and had taloned fingers on the cop’s hair, wrapped in a death grip. He pulled down hard and brought the would-be rapist bitch to the asphalt eye-blink fast.
The cop landed on the blacktop hard. Pilate then turned to the man who pressed her face into the cold metal trunk of the undercover car. The cop, shocked, said nothing.
“Let go of her,” Pilate ordered, but he knew what they would do. The police always followed the playbook, so Pilate knew some asshole response was coming. So, before: ‘get on the ground!’ at full volume left his mouth, Pilate slammed a fist into the cop’s face, breaking everything.
Pilate tugged free his hot, wet fist from the cavern of the cop’s face. He calmly wiped the bloody mess from his fist with the cop’s polo shirt. Pilate held the man up until it was clean. Then Pilate let him drop dead to the ground.
The stopping of the rape and Pilate’s exchange happened so quickly no one had time to respond. He turned to the rest of the police when one did.
Pilate heard the unmistakable sound of gunmetal scraping against leather. He saw the rapist/cop on the ground pull the service weapon from his shoulder holster, drew a bead on Pilate.
Using vampire speed, Pilate dropped to one knee and grabbed hold the shooter’s wrist. He jerked the arm toward him and twisted it until the pointy bone of the elbow faced up. Pilate then placed his hand on the skyward elbow bone and applied vicious downward pressure.
The cop’s arm broke. It cracked like a hard nutshell and Pilate pushed down on the elbow and up on the wrist until the arm folded back on itself, the gun pointing at its owner. The gun fired. One of the hollow points drove a wedge so deep in the cop’s brain you could see his filthy thoughts.
Pilate snatched the gun as he fell dead to the ground. Pilate grabbed and held another one with the smoking gun to his temple, Pilate safely hidden behind the man’s bulk. Pilate found his own gun, under shirtfront, and aimed it over the shoulder of his cop/hostage.
The hostage’s penis was still out. He’d been prepping himself, zipper undone. Pilate glanced down at it. It was flaccid, trying to turtle its way back inside.
Pilate tugged the cop back so that his car was behind them. The others tried to outflank and encircle him.
“Stop!” he shouted, “We have a truce. I’m under the protection of the Pharisees,” he said, “You can’t touch me and I won’t let you touch her.”
“Fuck you, faggot!” one of the circlers replied, stepping up to Pilate.
“You’re first,” Pilate said, stopping the rushing cop by sticking the 9mm in his face. “You wanna think about this,” Pilate told the fuming and defenseless rusher. His eyes crossed from staring at the gun. It was so close it almost kissed him. “Think about what you’re gonna lose if you make me open up your head like your buddy on the ground here,” Pilate advised, “No more wads of cash from taxing runners, no more free scotch from the liquor stores and no more blowjobs at gunpoint from high school girls.”
The police all stopped where they were, contemplating and weighing options.
“C’mon, be smart,” said Pilate before they had a chance to change their minds, “Give Matthias a call,” he told them, “While you’re still only down two.”

Comment by morningrovenow on August 7, 2008 at 11:36pm

Do you know who you are?
"To know you; "is to be true" to who: yourself!"
To know that what ever you speak out of your mouth you are!
Did you know that you built your life by every word you spoke to you; as you thought that you we're merely talking about someone else?
Do you know that what thoughts you have comes from the heart? To know that is to know that what comes from the heart; returns back to the heart!
So do not get mad with anyone for your troubles; why? Because you spoke it on yourself!
"This is why the mind is a terrible thing to waste!"
Now to know you is to know how to control your heart by how you feel, and let your mind become friends; with the very heart that holds all truth for you; see it, except it, and if it needs a change do it; then you can find the beauty of a wonderul person that has for all so long wished; to be that who you truely are!" ( written by morningrovenow)

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