bothing hardky that i can tell is realky me from when i was born... just an amalgamated scrambked mess.. still trying to calm this a temple when its just a...
Author: John O Sanford
poem
to the hunt. to the scavenge to the air you breath it should teach you.
haiku
when i see you face my heart opens a field.. a possibility, a relationship..
haiku
never give the scouts something to eat on purpose have everything already broken down and recycled or consumed.. hide..
there IS enough..
there is enough small spaces there is enough nooks and crannies there is enough places for you to find a nitch to erque yourself out a place. scratch it out dig it with your hands if you have to.. lots of people means hell, dig your way to the top.. period..
Haiku
i used to have a fire machine and it wanted to burn... before i lost it, finally got a new one..
haiku
bless the Golden Cup.. that which is inside to be imbibed Drink with Christ, and the vessel is like unto him.
haiku
its like the Sun told me once i do this one way. through mastery. and the Dove said, he is right, just like this, just like this...even the serpent had to agree..
haiku
we are the sword..the storm. we are the bullet, it never misses.. we are the stay, the scabbard..
The Amazons…
Shes got her Swords wrapped in silk and flowers.. shes got the wreath of victory in her left hand and her lef tknee is exposed... Lion on her Right, she is clothed in sheep skin..