fall at you feet

fall at you feet

pieces of heaven were falling at my feet

that my walk upon my Life Path

would be . . .

Heavenly

this was the consciousness

i held on to

dearly

and because of this

self affirmation

it came to be

you see

we

are made in the image

and are endowed

with the Breath

of life

as well as free will

so will it as you wish

but don’t wish

just Do and Be

and see

your Magic

actualize

before your eyes

and let pieces of Heaven

fall at you feet

© 24 April 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

every day

every day

every day i am thinking

considering

pondering

examining life

and how i feel about it

what i think about it

what i hope it may become

and where i have come from

come through

to be where i am

every day

there are words

that dance in between my thoughts

asking permission

to be shared with the world without

every day

and every place i look

or affix my mind

there is the potential

i may be blessed to find

a poem

or some little gem of light

or darkness

that i can bring to the light

to stave off the gloom

that assumes

that i may choose to be silent

and not speak

not

yes, every day

this is the process

of my living

seeking

giving

taking

embracing

forsaking

while basking

baking

asking

being real

and faking

my way along the road

every day

the load i perceive that i carry

is relieved

by the words i speak

the words i write

in spite of me

every day is a challenge

and every day

i hope to meet you at the crossroads

where we may share

this every day adventure

we call life

every day i have hope

every day

© 24 April 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

Live

Live

a shadow crossed my brow

and in that fleeting moment

i looked upon the face of death

and He was snickering

and whispering to me

“i am going to get your ass sooner or later”

i smiled back at Him

and called Him an asshole

for i had no fear of his attempts

to haunt my life expression

anymore

i have laid down my life

in the hands of Fate

more times than i can remember

and Fate kept kicking my ass back

to finish what i have come to do

Live !!!!!

© 24 April 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

my Easter looks like this

my Easter looks like this

sometimes we act out the role

of that helpless Toddler

of our World

our Diapers are soiled

and need a changing

the Urine

and other things we Piss and Moan about

while hoping for a miraculous change

has soured and transmuted

into a caustic flavoring

encapsulating our existence

and like the Ammonia it produces

it is slowly burning the skin

from our delusions

we are no longer comfortable

with the way things are

are we ?

our caretakers

the Pharisaic Parasites

no longer

have a negligent eye

they have NO EYE

that remotely resembles nor cares

or concerns its self

about the charge it, they were elected

selected

to keep

and the people, the children weep

while looking for that Saviour promised us

and our keepers of the Throne

treat us as the Drones that we are

and they just keep on doing

what they “Will”

caring not for the people

the children

nor the home

we must all endure

for as the Gods they think themselves to be

they do what they “Will”

any damn time they wish

this is my Social Commentary

for the querulous ones

the ones who see no Sun

in their days

for the tainted corrupt ways

takes away all of our shine

and there is nothing . . . NOTHING

passive nor sublime

about this

like Cyndi Lauper says . . . .

“time after time”

our life rhymes are forced

and of course

we need this brief reprise

to give some semblance of hope

to adorn our eyes

and our dreams

with unrealized possibilities

and potentials

of what may come to be

i pray our Children do not reflect

our image, our Sums

but as they say

“The Apple does not fall far from the Tree”

So i ask . . . what kind of Tree are we ?

What Fruit do we bear ?

Am i to be cursed as that Fig Tree upon the Road

that feeds not the Hungry ?

Careful . . . the Stranger may be thy Saviour

so Save me my Brethren

Save me my Lorde

from my self !

Lorde please help us to see the “Way”

because this day

that comes upon us

we must crucify someone

and my hands

my feet

can no longer hold any nails

for the meat on my bone

is frail and lacking substance

when will we too be resurrected

and rise above

our difficulties

our challenges

our will-less-ness

we the people

the sheeple

like i, like you, like we

who know not what we do ?

what are we going to do know . . .

humph . . .

continue sitting at the foot of that cross

and watch and jeer

and cheer

as we go about the letting

of our blood

and that of others

our Sisters

our Brothers

throughout Creation ?

is it done yet ?

Progenitor, Father of all things

we come to you

requesting you visit upon us

Your Grace

and may that be sufficient.

for i am tired

and

my Easter looks like this.

© 29 March 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

once again

once again

once again

in the Garden

pondering the outcome

of the Fruit i now contemplate eating

i will not be cajoled by the direction without

to take that bite,

for now i know better

i stand here at the Head Waters

where the 4 Spirits meet

to conspire to feed my Soul

with a goodness we label

awareness

it is only in the Silence

of my Garden

can i hear my Lorde approach

bringing Gifts of Love

that i may be forever

exuding bliss

in all of who i am

and what i should ever

choose to be

for i am His Son

the instructions of “The Way”

are inscribed upon my heart

i need no one to remind me of this

for the etchings

from His Holy Hand

forever glows

and becomes my consciousness

when i listen

Yonder in “My” Garden

are many Fruits

all of which i may eat

for this place was created

for the indulgence

of the Children

we shall dance and sing

with the Angels

bearing Life manifest

from spirit spoken

in each and every intonating

guttural utterance

for we are Co-Creators

made in the perfect Image

of that which brought us into being

now seeing this light of truth

i prostrate my self

before the Throne

The feet of he who “IS”

She who “IS”

has planted themselves

wherever i may be

for Creation is my home

i have no money

yet i feed

i drink the Milk of Babes

and sup the Honey

and i want for nothing

i leave impressions

in the illusion

that appear as more than what they are

and you can too

for “Will” was bequeathed to us all

listen to the call listen to the Footsteps

as they approacheth

Once Again

© 26 March 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

in the silence

in the silence

in a solitary soliloquist seat of self silence

a new dawn of creation’s magic

comes to greet me

bearing gifts of a vaguely remembered consciousness

that was beyond a beauty of words

we sit and we listen

in our own entombed solitude

where there is no predominating presence

of anything that resembles

this world about us

there are commentaries dancing

offering insights for attention

and the lights of awareness

takes on an embryonic glow

for it is constant blooming

flashes of brilliance

that blinds the eyes we have thus before celebrated

to manifest a singularity

of our being-ness

which exudes now

an indescribable peace

the absence of time

is of no consequence

and the awareness of all devices of measurement

are no longer heard

seen

felt

tasted

nor can they be touched

even if i did have the proclivity

to do so

my fingers have expanded

and i am embracing

grasping

worlds heretofore

yet to be created

and i am at this moment

in the eternal moment

where i am the chaos

that spawns new beginnings

my form has dissipated

to become a translucent cloud

and we dance as one

in the heavens of all things

the higher expressiveness

of a Self that used to be

there is nothing to hold to

for definitions

like limits

are all nonexistent

i think i hear a music

i think i am dancing

but it is naught

yet all

of a quixotic conscious experience

of what i have come to be

and now what i realize

that i have always been

the reconciliation

of self

and the silly delusions

i clung to

that i may be defined

as something

we are something  . . . are we not

or are we everything

there could possibly be

seen . . . and unseen

known . . . an unknown

we are the seeds

we are the Bud, the Blossom, the Fruit

we are the product of the Vine

we are the Vine Keepers

that spawn from the

rich soils of creation

where the divine root resides

in the silence

© 26 March 2013 : william s. peters, sr.

My Newest Book “The Vine Keeper” is available at :

http://www.innerchildpress.com/william-s-peters-sr.php

Her Dreams came true

Her Dreams came true

me and Bobby were peeing

in Mommy’s Rose Garden

we were going to make Yellow Roses

Susie put 2 Tangerines

under her shirt

and pretended she had Big Ones

like Aunt Mary

Bobby gave me a Banana for my pants

but i ate it instead

oh the things

that go through the heads

of us Children

the Young Ones

and the Adults Ones too

like me

like you

we hold on to our self created delusions

hoping

praying that God hears us

and makes the allusion

to our satisfaction

without the distraction

of time

like right now

somehow

we convince our selves

our whimsical fleeting desires

will come true

Grammy always said

“Be careful what you wish for”

but just like the Lottery

i wish for many things

hoping i get lucky

i have a list

a lifetime long

and some

many of my Wishes and Dreams

i have long since forgotten

they are so old

they must be rotten now

a fruit i no longer wish to eat

like that wish i made

about some scheme

that seemed

that it would make

my life all better

another wet dream

where the cream

never did rise to the top

but still here i am

many years later

still peeing in Rose Gardens

trying to make Yellow Roses

and Susie has Big Ones Now

Her Dreams came true

© 22 March 2013 : william s. peters, sr.