Prosopopeia

he hides in plain sight a panther chameleon who blends with nothing and everything the gentle grasp of opposing digits betrays the bondage that allows the scorpion to penetrate the stigma venom drips from the stamen of the butterfly pea reluctantly pooling at the root phosphorus for the fruit her soul ripens

Someone who listens

for the subtle catch in your breath
as his tongue finds purchase
who feels the warmth of your flushed lips
against his own
someone who gives with complete vulnerability
focused energy to your ecstasy
harmonizing with the nervous shudder
that overwhelms your senses
someone who cries out as you cry out
in shared erotic rapture
who penetrates your being with everything
that he is and everything that you make him
someone who wants to know you
as only you know you
defines the elusive and completes
the narrative
someone who
hears

Whether or not a person is capable of protecting themselves, be it from another individual or society as a whole, is inconsequential to relative peace.

love rape

a scalding three hour shower
duct tape wounds on her heart
she wanted this
as much as I didn’t
she
please me
please you
I can tell by the look in her bright porcelain eyes
As they shed those dirty girl tears
I can tell by the muffled screams of her pleasure
and mine
the DNA of my modus
the venom of my Eros
betraying my passage through this valley
of the shadow of death
the Phoenix rises
the erection of this reality
begging for me to ravage in all the ways
that I violate her soul
this is her fault
I wouldn’t have done it
if she wasn’t begging me to do
how I do
I give I take
we make love and I go
taking this black heart with me
don’t play like you didn’t want it

I can't stand atheists. All they ever talk about is god.

"Reminds me of you:"

People are afraid, very much afraid of those who know themselves. They have a certain power, a certain aura and a certain magnetism, a charisma that can take out alive, young people from the traditional imprisonment....

The enlightened man cannot be enslaved - that is the difficulty - and he cannot be imprisoned.... Every genius who has known something of the inner is bound to be a little difficult to be absorbed; he is going to be an upsetting force. The masses don't want to be disturbed, even though they may be in misery; they are in misery, but they are accustomed to the misery. And anybody who is not miserable looks like a stranger.

The enlightened man is the greatest stranger in the world; he does not seem to belong to anybody. No organization confines him, no community, no society, no nation.

Osho The Zen Manifesto: Freedom from Oneself Chapter 9

Commentary:
The powerful and authoritative figure in this card is clearly the master of his own destiny. On his shoulder is an emblem of the sun, and the torch he holds in his right hand symbolizes the light of his own hard-won truth.

Whether he is wealthy or poor, the Rebel is really an emperor because he has broken the chains of society's repressive conditioning and opinions. He has formed himself by embracing all the colors of the rainbow, emerging from the dark and formless roots of his unconscious past and growing wings to fly into the sky. His very way of being is rebellious - not because he is fighting against anybody or anything, but because he has discovered his own true nature and is determined to live in accordance with it. The eagle is his spirit animal, a messenger between earth and sky.

The Rebel challenges us to be courageous enough to take responsibility for who we are and to live our truth.
 
~ Osho Zen Tarot

Nom, nom, nom.

And the angel of the Lord came unto me,
snatching me up from my
place of slumber,
and took me on high,
and higher still until we
...moved in the spaces betwixt the air itself.
and he bore me unto a
vast farmland of our own midwest,
and as we descended cries of
impending doom rose from the soil.
one thousand, nay, a million
voices full of fear.
and terror possessed me then.
and I begged,
"Angel of the Lord, what are these tortured screams?"
And the angel said unto me,
"These are the cries of the carrots,
the cries of the carrots.
You see, reverend Maynard, tomorrow is harvest day
and to them it is the holocaust."
And I sprang from my slumber drenched in sweat
like the tears of one million terrified brothers
and roared,
"Hear me now,
I have seen the light,
they have a consciousness,
they have a life,
they have a soul.
damn you!
let the rabbits wear glasses,
save our brothers...can I get an amen?
can I get a hallelujah? thank you, Jesus.

~Maynard James Keenan