River Service . . .

River Service

Water rushing down the River

seeking it’s course

as are we

very much like the River

we rush along

for all the things we long for

yet, many time

never appreciating the course we travel

yes, the River is wetted

and embedded

in it’s own consciousness

emoting the noise

of it’s own being-ness

yet with more

or with less

it shall continue

upon it’s predestined journey

and as i stand and listen

to the whispers

to the glistening rivulets

churning and turning

across the rocks upon it’s bed

in my head

i hear a message

directly from my soul

as it speaks to the soul

of the River

it tells of the River’s purpose

and all the un told stories

the stories it has collected

over the years

it ells of the days of glory

and how it too tamed a wilderness

it tells of all the passersbys

and the Hikers

and the Bikers

and those who would sit in solace

upon it’s banks

and the reverent thankfulness

for all those who shared their tears

and their glee and laughter

throughout the years

yes, the River has many secrets

it holds silently in it’s Soul

from the wanderers

the seekers

and all those who have visited upon her presence

imparting their presents

of life

i now look at this River

a giver of life

and with it’s abundance

it’s rife

it has fed many

as it still does

in the spirit

the mind

the body

and i now understand this River

and it’s reclusive purpose

and that is but to be

as should we

of service to life

and flow

River service

29 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

come steal my heart . . .

come steal my heart  . . .

come steal my heart my beloved one

be as the thief who creepeth in the twilight

ever vigilant seeking the cherishable prize

that ushers forth riches untold

let the graces of our aspirations

and dreams

become a presence of One

come steal my heart my beloved

take charge of my heart felt wanderings

let there be no repass of my guilt

for what you take charge of here

i bear no ownership

come steal my heart my beloved one

my longing calls for one just like you

be mindful of your caring

let it be focused upon me alone

should you wander to another garden

where the fruit appears that much sweeter

know that i bear no angst against thee

for you have tasted of my sweetest

and i a grateful to have fed your dreams

come steal my heart my dear and beloved one

come steal my heart

and let us dance in the realm

of expectations of our greater self

let us uninhibitedly display our joy

in the smile upon our face

the smiles that are tethered to our Light Heart

where shadows have no name

come steal my heart my beloved one

and as we comingle in our bliss

let us kiss

and let the ether of our union

be the spirit that spawns life

and the universe shall sing

of the ecstasy of our love

in it’s highest form of celebration

come steal my heart beloved one

and let the angels lose their guard

for my heart in your hand requires no chaperone

and all the eyes of heaven shall be filled

with the beauty of their tears of allure

as they flow to feed those

who know not of thy passions

come steal my heart my beloved one

and we shall dine at the table

eternity has set before us

entwined in all the blessings of imaginings

of all the God-ness of promise

as one

come steal my heart . . .

© 30 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Announcement : World Healing Day Special

Hey Everybody

Tomorrow is “World Healing Day”

join us Tomorrow Morning for a very Special Episode

as we interview Founder Bill Douglas on Inner Child Radio

Interview Time :

9:00 until 10:00 AM Eastern

8:00 until   9:00 AM Central

7:00 until   8:00 AM Mountain

6:00 until   7:00 AM Pacific

Q & A Time immediately following

Afterward we will be opening the Telephone lines for further conversations so that you can share your Thought, Comments and Contributions to this Special Global Event.

The Call in number is : 714.816.4751

or join us in the Chat Room as we Commune in Love . . .

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/inner-child-radio

Watch YouTube Video

http://youtu.be/WLS9Ryt006Y

World Healing Web Site

http://www.worldhealingday.org/

rend my consciousness

rend my consciousness

i rend my consciousness

seeking answers to questions

i can not even formulate

so i cling to a single word

that has celebrated man’s quest

since the dawn of time

why ?

the juxtapositions we occupy

built upon the foundations of uncertainties

of understanding and belief

offers no respite

from our self damnations

we submit our souls to the winds

the winds  laden with the dust

that fills the eye

that champions the wavering

of our embraced creations of knowledge

for we are blinded

and have lost our way

and i ask

what exactly does man really know

what truth do we embody

will last forever

in the ever lasting

and just how long is everlasting any way

will i have to sit in this silence

where the voice

i long to hear speak audibly

with instruction

of which way i should walk

or should i just sit and wait

my that is a long time

and again i ask

why ?

there is a longing in my soul

and it seems that i was born with it

and it has grown ever so restless

in these days and times

and every time i am reminded of my disorientation

as i take my fixations back from the world

and the deafening stillness

of that place where nothing moves

or soothes

nor fills the deep grooves

life has cut into my heart

is saddening

and somewhat maddening

for it is answers i seek

of which there is no doctrine

no man made opinionated interpretive salve

that can satisfy this ache i have

to but touch that which is Holy

and perhaps Kiss the Face

of my maker

and whisper in His ear

a secret i have held within

since the days of  the Jin

has been vanquished from alternative realities

and this desire

that has possessed me in a raging longing

to right the wronging

of these jaded perspectives

allowed to exist

will not desist

until Bliss unpacks her bags and moves in

and pays the mortgage for this humble abode

called me

and provides the deed indeed

that the seeds of my thoughts,

my dreams

and my aspirations

for goodness

can be planted in the garden out back

with no thought

nor concerns

nor worries

of being possessed

or repossessed again

by illusion

and i will rest my mind upon this hope

and each day as we cast them to the winds

that they may be fulfilled

we will cope

with the nonsense

that which is allowed by the collective

of energy not employed

and though annoyed

with the whole

i do know it is me

the ‘i’ in me

that must do my part

and examine the finite nuances

of my own contributions

as i . . .

rend my consciousness

© 27 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

and i am hers . . .

and i am hers

Love is my constant companion

and my sanctity

and i am hers as well

without me she has no voice

she is but a mute in a world of noise

if i feed Her not

surely she will starve

and in this malnourished state

she will dry up

and become the chaff of the desert winds

in this barren landscape

that used to vibrantly live

and feed the substance

of all hearts

if i give her not of my waters of spirit

she will wither back to the nothingness

that which was before things manifest

and lest i consent to her well being

she will never know the joy

of touching another soul

ever again

for Love is my slave

as she is yours

to command

to hire out

at no cost

to all you encounter

i can dress her as i wish

as a smile

a caring gesture

and empathetic look

or even a thought

i adorn her with light

and she multiplies

that which i give to her

for she is a good steward

of my soul

i feed her the fruits

of my noble intent for goodness

borne of the seeds

i have planted

all my life

and i know thus

that she has fulfilled her duty

for it was love

that nourished my garden

when i was absent

in my unconsciousness

or while i slept

yes

it is i who sustains her

as do you

it is the “i’ in us all

that gives Love life

and she is ever grateful

as am i

and i bow in reverence

with the temperance of eternity

for i yearn not

for

love is my constant companion

and my sanctity

and i am hers

© 27 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

lamenting

lamenting

the silent and now prone bodies are lamenting

opportunities passed upon

while the souls of the free

are dancing

upon their graves

for they are liberated

though many are scheduled to return once again

to learn the lessons embraced by the infinite

they cherish with glee the vacation

from the burden

the yoke

of physicality

and this reality

the universe takes a breath

as the transdimensional winds comes about

 to sweep them along

to their place in line

the line of destiny

where all things are fulfilled

and there it will be divulged

their next station in this existence

and the persistence

of their pending fate

worries them not

for worry and doubts now lies and rots

with the bodies they left behind

and they know with all due certainty

that again they are free

for that is the language all souls speak

they know all too well

that their soul seeds

shall again germinate

in the womb of life

and the dust of the earth

shall give unto them a new burden

to be yoked upon their aspirations to ascend

as they prepare to traverse this precarious landscape

of delusional being-ness

and once again

as the challenges of the absence of divine memory

hones the acuity of their understanding

of universal mind

they will seek

some will find

but all will travel the path

again

and with an anticipation seeded in truth

these souls speak of the journey

where they like the Salmon of the Rivers

shall spawn again

and again

and again

giving unto life

life

and with reverent smiles of a certain knowing

they dance

and they dance

and they dance

for they know of the ultimate of all truths

that life is truly everlasting

and the typecasting of  the lies

still lies now in a somber silence

with the bodies they left behind

the bodies that lie prone

and lament for another eternity

feeding the future

of those still yet to come

lamenting

© 26 April, 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

a present to all

a present to all

she had a light in her eyes

her countenance radiated effervescently

she glowed

and her light was infectious

to all whose presence she graced

she had a secret

that she did not bother to keep

she gave of her goodness

to those who smiled

and those who weeped

whether it was sadness or joy

she was the buoy

in many a Souls Ocean of despair

she was the air that gave life

in the midst of strife

her secret,

she knew something

she did not take concern nor worry

for the things of the world

nor the conditions

for she knew

that all Souls would be the better for it

and she was aptly equipped

with reason

and understanding

that all the demanding

for resolution in this dimension

was for naught

for it was the illusion

upon which we are trained

to seek our higher purpose

our higher self

and with this knowledge she embodied

she imparted it to everybody

without reservation

and to all’s elation

they danced in her aura

for she was a flower of presence

a present to all

© 27 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Announcement : a poetically Spoken Anthology

we had fears . . .

we had fears

there are fears that we dare not admit
hidden in the womb of our denials
the pouring forth our fears and tears
lightly dressed as smiles

insecurities and our unassuredness
and our foiled construction of esteem
yet every day we awaken to a life
where we embrace such empty dreams

be it loneliness or our indifference
from the myriad of things that touch us
we all carry forth that innate feeling inside
there is something that must be done, we must

sometimes in spite of our better selves
we turn off that light of hope within
and cling to our familiarities in dismal despair
and deludedly we treat them as friends

when the Captain of the Ship cries “Woe is ME”
what possibly can my expectations surmise
that here i am again upon the Landscapes of Life
where there is an absence of the Sun that should arise

but wait, why should i stay here i ask
in a place where the dark clouds constantly loom
i am the creator is what “Source” tells me
of my life and of my illusional doom

so in the final analysis of this “NOW”
i am changing, transmuting that which i see
and if i could but touch the world with this virus
we can effectuate the divine within Me and Thee

collectively as we strive forward
by changing our “HERE” Right “NOW” my friend
our fears become the musings of the illusory past
that we once thought lived within

we had fears . . .


(c) 9 December 2010 : William S. Peters, Sr.

The Garden Of Mind

The Garden Of Mind

What type of Food do you feed your mind? What type of diet do you allow your mind to indulge?

Every day we are confronted, inundated and bombarded with things, items, probabilities and
circumstances to ponder . . . to think about. This is not a bad thing, for that is the purpose of
Mind. But, have you ever stop to examine the Nature or the Manner in which you think? Of
course we do need very desperately to think. As a matter of fact, it is one of the most difficult
of Life’s tasks to not do so, to quiet One’s Mind! But, more importantly, it is not how much we
think, for we are well equipped to do so. The Mind is an AMAZING piece of equipment!
What i wish to examine and bring to your attention via this article, is not the volume of
thought, though that does have an impact on the quality of our life, But today i wish to focus in
a finite sense the “Demeanor and Attitudes” of our thoughts. Thoughts are much more than
simple information. Thoughts are the initiators of Action . . . or lack thereof. Our thoughts are
the first Seeds of Creation in our lives. Now most of you who know me, you know by now that
i love the Garden analogies . . . ha ha ha.
If we are to look at our life as a Garden, our thoughts would be the Seeds. The Soil would be
our Lives. As a Gardener, we plant the seeds of the things we wish to grow such as Fruits and
Vegetables. There are very few Gardeners i have encountered in my life time that make it a
point of growing weeds. Weeds steal our “Soils” energy needed to grow a good crop and
thereby yielding a bountiful and fruitful harvest for our efforts expended. Like wise, there are
many Gardeners who have fences around their Gardens to keep Pests at bay, for again certain
Pests are ravenous in a well kept Garden. After all, they are looking for “Food” also! . . . And
then there are the variety of Bugs and Blight and all kinds of Raiders that wish to get at your
inner Garden either to negate your efforts or just have a free meal! Again, take time to apply
this analogy to your thoughts. There is always some external stimuli that wishes to get in and
take root in your “Perfect” Garden. Yes, i did say “Perfect”! Why you may ask ? . . . Because
“Potentially and Ultimately” we are! We are in control of what we allow in, the thoughts we
chose to indulge in and how we manifest these thoughts.
Over the years there has been many Axioms and Cute little sayings about thinking positive and
such. There are people every day writing books, Stories, Articles and giving speeches about
thinking positive and the value of Positive Thought” But let me submit to you this small point
of consideration . . . It matters not how Fair and Beautiful your Garden IS . . . if you allow the
invasion of one Negative thought . Just like the Weed, Blight, Pest, etc. . . . they will see to it
that your “Fair and Beautiful Garden” is one that “USED” to “BE” . . . just like the so many
others “Negative Thought” has Ravaged. The safest thing one can do is “THINK LOVE”
Here are some words from Paul the Apostle. I call this my “8 Point Check List”
Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things
are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of
good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.

© 2008 : William S. Peters, Sr.

Sailing My Ship

Sailing My Ship




i stood on the Beaches of my Existence
and i looked out upon the Seas of Life.
My heart desired and longed
that i too one day may go forth.
So . . .
my Father taught me how to build a Ship.

i put my Ship upon the waters
and i drifted here and there.
i was aimlessly tossed to and fro,
so i sought through the prayer of intent
that i may come to learn to direct my course.
So . . .
my Father taught me how to build a Rudder.

i was bemused and pleased.
As time went on and on . . .
the Sea was the Sea,
but time continually went on.
Some days went peaceably slow,
and some treacherously Fast and Stormy.
The currents of life dictated my days instead of me.
i was being troubled from within
for my lack of control,




and . . .

my Father intuitively seeing this
gave me the visions of Wings of a Gull.



He taught me to capture the Breath of Life
and build a Sail. Thus doing so,
i found that my Sailing and Navigating
of the Seas of my life
was completely within my control.



Days went on,
which turned to Months
and to Years of many.
i, over this time grew weary.
Though i have experienced many things,
i had no purpose,
other than the discovery of new things.
This is what i dedicated my life to.
i collected these discoveries as my treasures.
i do not complain . . .
However . . .
i soon tired of the seemingly redundancy.
i wanted my purpose to have more . . .
more substantive meaning.
i wanted to leave a Legacy.
i wanted to have an Ultimate Destination
where in my weariness of Sailing
the Seas of my Life,
i could find Meaning, Solace and Rest.



Being very troubled within,
again my Father came to me . . .
and said . . .




My Son . . .
you have always had purpose . . .
that is but to be My Child.

You have always had a Destination . . .
through all your times of trouble . . .
ME !
I AM your Destination !



the Comfort you now seek,
the Meaning, the Solace and the Rest . . .
is in MY Hands . . .
the same Hands that has
Guided you . . .
Held you . . .



through all of your Life’s Aspirations . . .
Trials and Tribulations ;
through your Joys and Sorrows ;
through all of your Discoveries . . .
and Disappointments
you encountered on the Seas of Life



Come my Son . . .
Come and sit with me
Sit on My Beach

and . . .

let us watch the Young and Restless
build their Ships .



© 5 April 2009 : William S. Peters, Sr.




~ inner child ~

© 2008 : William S. Peters, Sr.

The Sacrifice . . .

The Sacrifice

Easter, what a wonderful time for me to write about this message. Do not get me wrong, i am not here purporting any one to accept any Religious Doctrine of Belief. I am here simply to give an analogy based upon what i perceive as very relevant to the times and our lives. You may say if you wish that the timing is somewhat suspect, but it is truly my inspiration that has lead me to this path this day.

When we think upon the significance of this time of year, we all pretty much know the Story. Jesus was Punished, Crucified, and after much Pain he arose on the Third day after his Death. There is another very significant statement that Jesus made earl in His Ministry . . . . “I lay down My life that I may pick it up again!”  This is the subject of this analogy.

Many times in our own lives we find ourselves in a place of suffering. It may be for a variety of reasons that we feel this way. It may be the circumstances of our lives. Or it may be the lack of  desired progress, whether it be Spiritually, Intellectually or Physically rooted matters not, for all enduring troubles will eventually transmute into our Spirit. This is the time when life becomes lesser than our perceptions of it. It becomes a yoke of burden that continually weighs our Spirits down. Sometimes we find ourselves becoming very depressed and full of Woe and Despair.  For myself as well as most of us,, this is when we recognize in not so subtle ways that change is necessary . . . indeed. Have you ever experienced this feeling? Many times the change must be so dramatic to escape the syndrome of Self Repugnation. (New word) But, again we feel that Life is closing in. This is when i know that the best thing we can do is let go. Let go of our Judgments, Analyses, Condemnations and all other Self Paralyzing and Demeaning attitudes we have seemed to collect and cherish. I know some of us do get a Joy out of complaining no matter how short lived and ultimately damaging. But when it is all said and done, change is still required.

What a wonderful quality we have in our Mind. That at any given time we can change it. We can change our Focus. We can change our Priorities. We can even change our Allegiances and Loyalties. I say this because most times the inhibiting factor of change is Guilt. We many times in our goodness of spirit and heart align ourselves with things and life styles that are not in our best interests, nor mean us any good, yet we “STICK”! I am proud of you ! (ha) But i do believe that a man with no Wisdom, Knowledge or Insight to Truth can lend it not. So i say this, do not fear change, however we must keep our Eyes Open, and our Notepad and Pen ready that we may record our efforts and experiences through the process of change that we may lend it to others, if not ourselves for another time of similar circumstances. You see, every time we face insurmountable odds, we have the gift to be able to “Lay down our life that we may pick it up again”! In the remaking of our “New Life” we offer our Old Life, it’s values and perspectives as “The Sacrifice” !

Many who were not there to assist you in your plight, or who denied you when they had the chance to “Stand Up” and be “Counted” will be there in the Abundance and Resurrection to Life!

Blessed Be

bill


(c) 9 April 2009 : William S. Peters, Sr.

let us dance . . .

let us dance

it’s breakfast time

it’s feeding time

the Birds are wake

and singing rhymes

awake my child

this grateful morn

and leave behind

what once was scorn

for the Sun of life

shall come about

embrace the promise

cast out all doubt

let music play

expand thy sum

let joy prevail

i beg you come

let love walk first

in all you do

and you will be

the greater you

for all is yours

believe you must

magic unfolds

if we but trust

so come my child

and be enhanced

the world is yours

so let us dance

© 22 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

all things . . .

all things

we meander through life

participating in moments

that are recorded

in the chasm of Mind Infinite

there are times when the bridge

to this wonder of existence

provides a free pass

that we come to the alter of gratitude

for we still are here

as we vacillate

betwixt the various heavens of awareness

we perhaps can touch the grande majestic self

found in each of us

found in all things

if we but look

seek

touch

smell

hear

and dream

for in the etheric composition

of all things manifest

who can draw the line

that determines reality

in the grande Jesters Game

we humble our divinity

to embrace the concept of time

and space

yet in the mind

of that which knows not of limit

we are here

we are everywhere

we are all things

here

and there

for we are

all things

© 22 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

budding . . .

budding . . .

i stand here

firmly implanted

woven into the Fabric of Spring

i listen to the Buds

as they come forth

and i hear their cry

the longing music of love

as they yearn to blossom

and impart their gift of fragrance upon the world

as do i

there is a definitive certainty

that all life will be rewarded

by the giving of their essence

and the time soon come

when all those with wings

shall feed upon the bounty

the sweetness

in completeness

of the journey

as we watch and witness

the balance

the fitness

and prefectness of creation

the perfectness

and much to my elation

i know the fruit will come

and we shall eat

we shall dine

at the table

where the wine of the Gods

are set before us

for us

yes for our joyful indulgences

in the grandeur of life

as we begin to bud

© 21 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

of knowing . . .

of knowing

he turned the Earth upside down

that he may peer under the skirt of reality

he  desired to look directly into the womb of the Mother

that he could discover

what was being birthed

upon this Earth

he knew that she was in travail

agitated

as she regurgitated

all the ill spoils of her Children

they deposited in her bowels in their errant

unconscious

indifferent musings

of advancement

and progress

as they regressed

into the realm of darkness

and Mother was still smiling

in spite of her

displeasure

for she knew Her treasure

was still yet undiscovered

in this time

this age

and as the Sages all foretold

it is not the Bold

who shall conquer their self

but those who are the meek

and have the knowingness to seek

the truth of self

in silence

by listening

and paying attention

without contention

to Nature’s whispering voices

for the choices of man

can not stand

disconnected

like the House of cards

built upon the foundations of sand

it shall fall

and waver

with the winds

that blow without cease

disturbing the peace

of their sleep

and in the bosom of Mother

i can hear her weep for us

betwixt her smiles of understanding

and tolerance

for she has been here many times before

imploring us but to observe

the servings of time

be offered unto us

hoping that we will trust

in eternity’s absoluteness

and pass beyond this finite test

and start glowing

and start flowing

with the River

to the Ocean

of knowing

© 21 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

my God . . .

My God

it is 6:00 in the morning

i go outside

to embrace the wonder of God manifest

this day

i look to the mountains

and the Snow Capped Peaks are peeking

above the low lying Land Cloud

that obscures it’s base in mystery

the almost Full Moon above

enhances the beauty of this picturesque setting

with it’s eerie Silvery Light

reflecting upon  all things

i sight

and my consciousness has been stolen

in this moment

that has captured me

and is holding me here

as i leer in awe

and i say out loud

My God

for the shroud i usually wear

upon my awareness

has been lifted

as i am shifted

beyond this place

and in the face of it all

my soul called out

and shouts again

My God

for the God in me

is realized

that beyond all the deceit

lies

and other stuff

we are connected

you and i

yes we are connected

creation is connected

all things are connected

to source

and of course

as my heart began

again

it’s butterfly like flutter

as i stutter once more

My God

i am grateful

© 21 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

a poet . . .

a poet

he reached into his back right Jeans Pocket

and extracted the 2 sheets of unlined blank paper

he had neatly folded 3 times over

to make 8 almost perfect sections

he fidgeted and rifled through the remaining pockets

that of his pants

his shirt

and his jacket

hurriedly

anxiously

for creation

and things

were speaking to him

yes, he was a poet

he never went anywhere unprepared

for what he dedicated his life to

he cared more for than life itself

his only aspirations were to listen

as the muses imparted the whisperings of existence

and beingness to him

yes he was prepared alright

yet at this very moment

he was scared he would miss the message

the scribe

that life presented for him to imbibe

you see he knew that all things spoke

a language in stillness

so he walked in that realm

lived in that realm

dreamed in that realm

breathed in that realm

where all was quiet within him

for he was attentively waiting

anticipating at all time

the birth of a new rhyme

or verse

or lyric

that he could capture

and give to others

that they could hear it

read it

feel it

be it

as he scribed it

on his neatly folded paper

he carried in his pocket

here outside of himself

and inside as well

he felt the overwhelming of his senses

there were no fences that could contain inspiration

and to his poetic elation

the sensations he experienced

were a sweet fruit of the soul

his soul

and that with whom he shared

so he dared not

no, dared not

go any where

without his paper and pen

for the fear of the sin he would commit

if life spoke to him

and he did not capture it

take it and give it

for his life he did commit

totally

to being who he was sent here to be

you see

he was . . .

a poet

© 19 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

a friend called self

a friend called self

here i sit

in the pre dawn morn

awaiting the instructions of the Gods

my Soul open

my consciousness pensively listening

for the whispers

where are my muses

where are the Saints

what would you have me to say

this day

upon the way

you would have me walk

i go to the center

the center of me

where the voices congregate

and i wait

in the looming silence

there is a feeling of quiet safety here

a place where fear is not allowed

and all is clear

and the shrouds that litter thought in the light

reside not

for here i have forgotten who i am

and how i define my self

when i am seen

i am  keenly aware of this body

i carry

or that carries me

during this brief journey here

year after year

through my smiles

my laughter

my anguish

my tears

and though i have yet to be clear

as to what the purpose is

and what the final outcome is to be

i do know that the sum of me

is so much more

for in the core of me

there is something quite magnificent

i have seen it in you too

that shining light

that emanates on through

the Human of your being

and with that i am enlivened

and it is confirmed

that none of us are alone

so be it known

so here i sit

submitted to listening

for voices

and thus they have spoken

this pre dawn morn

and adorned life once again

with insightful amend

that within each of us

there is a friend

that tends to heaven within

a friend called self

© 18 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.

of liquid love . . .

of liquid love

yes, they were but thoughts

and yet somehow they seemed so real

and i could actually feel them

feel her

feel her skin as i allowed my fingers

to drift languidly across the vast expanse of her body

just as she danced in the vast expanse of my living dream

yes, i refuse to let go

or wake up

‘cause this place i am in at this moment

has me erectly paying attention

to the goodness life affords

one who loves another this deeply

i deliberately close my eyes to all external sensations

and i can smell her body moisture

that which wafts through the air from the valley of her breasts

as the swelling nodes of her twin mounds of excitement

rise to greet my teasing tongue

as it explores it’s command of her senses

and arousals

and i go deeper still

into this chasm of my lost self

where the valley of all her womanhood resides

and i start to swoon in the euphoric atmosphere

of being here

and yes, i am lost

and i like it

i love it

i need it . . .badly

i hear a distant drum beating

i think the natives have been aroused

as my heart excitedly considers the possibilities

of what is about to manifest

and my expectations have a taste of unrequited

and uninhibited ecstasy

all should experience

at least once in their life time

there is a fire somewhere burning

raging

and i can smell the fumes

and feel the consuming heat

as my loins start to boil

and i smile

for this shit is good

and i would have it no other way

and though her countenance is like a sunshine to my life

the way her face lights up

and irradiates all that is about me

and as beautiful as her countenance may be

it is not her face that holds my attention in this moment

though her lips are full and pursed

my imaginings have already used them thoroughly

and the residue liquid of our pre love

drips ever so slowly upon the sheeted plane of our bed we share

puddling only to serve as a reminder

of what we are about to do

as i lay her gently upon her back

her eyes envelope me in our mutual longing for cessation

and my prominent digital elation

takes notice and leaps forward

towards it’s ultimate destiny

that it too may taste what it feels like

to be buried alive

in a liquid grave of love

a place where he will go to but shrivel and die

the door is slightly ajar

and i push with a certain determination

slowly

and i mean slowly

that i may fully enter

and enjoin our very Souls

that i may feel every crevice and nuance of a acceptance

of the offering of my firm love

and thus i am fully welcomed

into this abode of hot, steamy joy abound

as i excitedly

make known my presence

i feel her essence greet me

flowering, blossoming

to receive me

all of me

seen and unseen

and

like the prodigal son that i am

she embraces me

envelopes me

consumes me

totally

and i mean totally

i begin my work

and i pay homage

deep homage to those secret places

where no man has gone before

and deep within this cavern

i find that magic door

waiting for my arrival

and i smile

deeply

soulfully

as she begins to weep

the songs of ecstasy and bliss

as i kiss those lips

that drips

with the evidence

of our Love’s presence

and with no warning

the storm begins

and the fury of our congruous bodies attacks

and i put my hands in the small of her back

pulling her closer until our passion becomes one

one song of painful screams of fulfillment

as i discharge

the full charge of my orgasmic duty

of liquid love

© 16 April 2011 : William S. Peters, Sr.