War be with Us always,
Crusades need not be.
Fighting is a profession
And should not be,
A damnable devotion.
A strange Duck I be,
Fearing the killing with passion;
Maybe only a cold-hearted Soul.
Copyright.LawranceGeorgeLux2003.
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Reviews of "Crusades"
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Reviewed on February 11, 2003
yes, only cold hearted souls. powerful write lawrence.
Shadowing
What language does war speak, that whips
dew-moistened jasmines to their fall?
What filaments spin from its tongue, that weaves
a dangerous brocade of diplomatic shawls?
Why are the birds so suddenly quiet?
Were they swallowed in their blue?
by hunting night cats over the roofed tiles
moving along earth's folds
with tempting curvatures,
determined
they spill intoxicating nocturnal perfume
and mother of pearl, at the wings of sleeping sparrows.
I have nothing but my children and my words, yet I sit
by the edge of this fading medley of songs
my light, a mirror away from my shadow.
O, to soar behind the moonlight!
...to get lost...
This book is about a radical transformational Way of Insight, Awakening and Realization to transcendent Self of Nondual Consciousness. If your're interested in transcendental Enlightenment, in Awakening to Nondual Self of Wisdom and Compassion, then
This book is about a radical transformational Way of Insight, Awakening and Realization to transcendent Self of Nondual Consciousness. If your're interested in transcendental Enlightenment, in Awakening to Nondual Self of Wisdom and Compassion, then
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Shadowing
What language does war speak, that whips
dew-moistened jasmines to their fall?
What filaments spin from its tongue, that weaves
a dangerous brocade of diplomatic shawls?
Why are the birds so suddenly quiet?
Were they swallowed in their blue?
by hunting night cats over the roofed tiles
moving along earth's folds
with tempting curvatures,
determined
they spill intoxicating nocturnal perfume
and mother of pearl, at the wings of sleeping sparrows.
I have nothing but my children and my words, yet I sit
by the edge of this fading medley of songs
my light, a mirror away from my shadow.
O, to soar behind the moonlight!
...to get lost...
Minerva~
it's a sad, sad, world.
I have a marine son, and war is the last thing i want
you sound angry.