Friday, January 5, 2018


Souls that shine
souls that blind
souls that rest
and souls that are best
left untouched.
Souls everywhere. 
Souls of deepest glory.
Souls of foulest depth, 

Souls indifferent to
their soulness
souls imagined to
be blest,
souls in all the world
souls in the universe
by the trillions
that dance in mighty starshine
that grovel in filthiest muck,
souls know not where they are,
souls that have traveled far,
souls abound, souls all around,
all these souls
are in motion,
moving forward, moving back,
striving for a glimpse
blind to the whims
of the wind that towers above
the souls in a realm that
shines, each soul has a time
to chose where it will go.
Souls can turn to stone.
Souls can be perfume.
Souls can rot.
Souls can survive,
souls can revive,
from exile,
for the isle of souls is placed
amid the gleaming thrones.
There is a cell where souls slumber.
A well where souls go deeper.
A ladder that souls ascend;
a tiger that souls defend.
A choice that souls make
in a time when souls shake.
Which way will I chose for my soul?
Which way will you live for your soul?
Which way is forgotten by the soul?
Who is the master of his soul?
Who is the soul’s slave?
Who can define what a soul is?
Who can decide what their soul is?
When can I see my soul
in all its raiment?
I want my soul to begin
being a soul.  Now.

No comments:

Post a Comment

If you have enjoyed any of my work, please leave a short comment. It may not appear immediately because it comes to me first for moderation. I get a lot of spam. Your comments help raise my spirits and support my belief that someone cares enough to say so.

Featured Post

Bankruptcy Blues (from The Road Has Eyes)

Bankruptcy Blues             One morning I woke up, did some simple addition and concluded that I was thirty seven thousand dollars...