Storming Into Summer With More Poems For You.

 

Blessed.

Did you know the Auras have a code of practice I walk along it seems unfriendly, the Aura it bothers me? So I wonder why, face after face passes me place after place a scowl of disapproval so this is the world now. So how do I survive I was told a way by an unknown master I cannot reveal he said “my son doesn’t look, keep walking, keep straight, and don’t pick up or take in the Aura of others and you will be fine and yes you will heal transmit your blessing to all who pass you, and you will be blessed.

The Breed

This is the year, the breed, the beards, the muscles all over the place the hypermasculine, expand and steroid terror moves in disturbed minds raging through violent England. Women are now like men and more than nasty. Peace is now a period of a dispute the resolution often death, when the beards are shaved off the peace will once again come and change will arrive. Pass me the jungle juice I am on the weights, oh did I not tell you I am one of them.

I Am A Spirit

I’m a spirit on day release, I thought I’d tell you this. I’ll tap you on the shoulder to let you know. I’ll squeeze your wrist I’ll touch your brow I’ll turn a cloud to blow on your cheek, I’ll stay awhile and then kiss your cheek to tell you I love you and then I will go followed by the most haunting wind you’ve ever heard. Whoosh it is I, there and gone. Yet strangely here trapped in my world and yours.

The Harvest

The harvest will come I know of that, the dictators are surrounded now their days are done, trust me. I know of this, the evil will break, the evil will drown, and an echo of laughter and happiness will be heard around the world. The vibration will be long until the bad has gone trust me I know. A day like never before will dawn the sun is for everyone love will be felt everywhere, my ears are different and soon you’ll know why soon you will know because I know that change will be forever.

Distorted

Were we ever our brother’s keeper look at us now tightly packed but with all the space in the world, no it’s territorial the mind of distorted humans going higher, or is it down and down to Hades. Seems like control but it is high and you might fall man is not a bird. Where are the minds when your garden is dead but a long way down, where there is no sense, there is no feeling and all that followed is nowhere fighting and killing government is down am I really my brother’s keeper too busy fighting to survive? God is on the back burner ready to explode now that’s atomic.

 

 

 

The Poetic Warrior Strikes Again With a Great Selection of Poetry

The Mysterious Auric Horns

Down in terra earth, cavernous places exist mostly unknown to surface dwellers deadened by suppression of mass assembly and form, the Auric Horns were in place, and as earth years passed in increments the push to reveal carried on regardless, people above would traverse hills but not mountains, as they would stop by the emergent structures and absorb the emitting often healing buzz and vibration. The Auric Horns protected their structures in the form of wailing sounds of terror to ward off any investigation as more inches pushed upward.

The years were going by and all who walked past the Auric Horn sites noticed increments of upward movement and in the summertime, those having picnics would sit atop the energy field and would comment upon the apparent healing properties. It was fast becoming the only healing miracle centre upon a dying world, ports at various locations were seen possibly as an entrance for adepts to interview, come the time of the Lord Jesus second alighting to the damaged earth but no one knew the time of this and what appeared to be acres of new citadels emerged, waiting for the codes to enter. These citadels stood in silence for further instruction.

With the emergence of the Auric Horns throughout the known now visible earth, these structures continue to be a mystery. There is no explanation, no history document for this is not weathering for this is the emergence of an unknown kind the slowest of revelations, that will never be dust for their time is yet to come, their message is waiting and the power and height will grow.

The Beasts of Royalty

Be yea not fascinated by them the beasts of royalty and pomp. Be yourself and think freely, be not of royal pomp as it will swallow you, be not of blind deference. But be of humanity’s cause, the brotherhood of man and not Satan’s slave. For you shall be of peace and kindness for the betterment and future and eternal hope.

In Your House

The frequency of the day across the line it comes overwhelming all others. Speech has stopped this signal above all others counts world re-boot the English language is dead, a glance and vibration of the universal language no other will do.  The animals have it we have become too complicated  to the sound we draw, but watch the eyes and the eye holes in your best-framed picture in your house they are looking at you.

The Secret War

The secret war with a pandemic, many moons ago a national newspaper highlighted that nearly every virus would not have an antibiotic to resist it, how true this has become. So now we have the Covid and Omicron viruses but no human falling down in the streets, no upturned cross upon ones door yet, the GP lackeys of government all sit with books behind them. Government propaganda again and if there is ‘dissension amongst the ranks’ your virus will meet you one dark night. Those who protest the virus are there to prove one is allowed democratic rights for now anyway. But be sure to know New World order is here Boris Johnson just hasn’t found the right style as yet perhaps look to China for the social credit model…oh do not put ideas in heads.

We Go Alone

So into the depths, we go alone nothing else but that was revealed on a bleak day and the snow fell and fell till it filled the sky as high as it could ready for readjustment day, and in the meantime, the doors of the houses remained shut forever. It seemed to be the streets were as scarce as they could be even imagination was dead and the ears didn’t reach the brain are we now all but dead, have we enough life to see again we didn’t know the time and broadcast because it is also dead only a faint tick could be added that would stop it. Had hell won, we will have to wait in our cocoons will we become as cloned drones when the snow melts as it should in a thousand years. The secret saucer in the meantime returned to mars for the adepts interplanetary conference and a fellow Warrior of Poetry shall join them.

Traffic Light Tarts

Traffic light tarts are not what you think. They are by my side, an edible spectrum of yum and bright colour. I can’t eat them fast enough my appetite is high, what are they but of course jam tarts. I’m now eating green to go.

Give Me The Time

I’ll buy the license if you give me the time, its a long shot but I need to get out of here heads are cloudy, and much rain like all our troubles it flows to the drain and to the subterranean manifestation.

Beneath our feet known as the hell’s the tilt is on and I’m sliding His I cannot stop I’m descending I’m hoping the flame of dragons will fire me out and a lesson learned never be tempted by savory evils or you too will be swallowed up.

 

 

 

 

If Aliens

If Aliens are bad then where are the blessed ones it is hard to say, have they left us?. Have they vacated terra earth did the vision of the blessed one make them depart, what is to befall us all? Is earth indeed to be cleansed given rest for all it has suffered, there is panic around now and no time to talk. Streets are vacated where are the people. Has life has metaphorically gone to ground, cables wires, and satellites in the skies above, and who invented normal. What defines such a world now, that exists, in partial hiding. in rarified rooms of intensity, angst, and stagnation.

One Way Ticket

One way ticket to blank so my friends this is immortality the colour was black bleak, to say the least considering I was supposed to be no more further on a mass mess of activity, chatter a thousand miles away but non-audible in this outer state. What was left of emotion was like trying to ascend a verticle mud bank the faces at the top laughing. I didn’t know any of them they were not human I concluded I couldn’t go back so I wait for arms and legs as Jesus rotating in space to who knows where.

The Warrior of Poetry: The Poetry archive