MATT@INDIGOPEOPLE.ORG
 

INDIGO POEMS AND WRITTEN WORKS  GIFTED TO US BY INDIGO SOULS HAPPY TO SHARE FOR THE LOVE OF OTHERS. 

 

 

AUTHOR ELLE: COURTINHO.

((the patterns of matter is language is wives tale))

alters the alter ((to which)) i surrender

from floor to constituent

ceiling i ponder

tracing the waves all

along

these walls have held asunder

all alone

with the silent sight

on sundran

into separateness

granted and out of

each and every

burst

the many

fall victim to forces the same

as any

as any

as any

a men

and out of it's not just the rhythms that matter anymore

each

and every burst

the many

falls

to gravity

a victim of expansion

ah man

ahh man

yet awake not so aware

an arrogance we dare to dance

but what else is there..

ahh man

ahh man

as any as any as any

ahh mmmm

copyright 2007

elle.infinity

                                                            

 

AUTHOR: ELLE COURTINHO.

 

im typically pretty

although proverbially

igroan and sigh

every reply

and thus consequently

as time rates expensively

im not asked much

to speak my mind

cos the only thing

in this rapid society

that bears repeating

is tragic history

and not yet the magic

the mystery

that we let float by

fleetingly

wind blows and

sin floats

and at the waves laughs

bobbingly

                                                      

 

AUTHOR : GARY KREGER

 

Him  with the Frugal Imagination, immersed in a  Mephistophelian Riff  

Of the Cultured Kind.....he was a Timid Soul..

Alarmed even by  the  Hushed Silences, and the Rustle of Leaves at the front door...Yes that even disturbed Him....Yet he urged them to Fight On...God was with them

Though he had yet to feel a Blow! Unsoldered

Unscarred..unmarked..Yet what a Battler he was

Just as Long as he himself did not ever feel a blow! Spit out Blood and watch men die..

Real Up and Close like....

 

He would Strike the Lyre, Beat the Drum and Lobby big time. But his was of a Higher calling...

Always on the Lookout for Mad Mulluhs..Shieks and Brown Brahmin..and

Assorted Muslims blowing themselves Up...easy to see...for sure..

What Madness, what case of the Furies could bring about these Human Bombs?

Bomb Troubadours...true to their Cause. It is something to give consideration to, what it is that will cause  a Man or a Woman  to blow themselves up  in the name of a Higher Calling. That must be addressed...or should be...or could be...maybe..

 

Even  with Sky Pilots. And Twirling Bladed Copters all abuzz. All of the time..and all for nought......

While the Pink War Makers were  calling  for the final finale. Those Oh so articulate and knowing  Old men in Pinstripe suits, all  gifted orators, men of  wit  Advocating  Fur Tongue charming  orders ..Ho.. and yes they  continued to call for a second front...

The Shadow Warriors whom had brought this Monstrous affair were  safely encased and were still about in this late hour, same Jingoistic, Chauvinistic flagrant and vitriolic calls for the Heads of the Bad Guys. All is fair in love and war. Whoever prevails makes the notations in the History books..Still the Charming Grey Haired purveyors of the “real story”, somehow despite  losing all of the horses in the  Calvary. And reeking havoc on the machinery, not mention costing Billions of paper dollors..Just blown to the wind amidst a  roar of War..  and were still  making huge blunders,  they villous  and   still having a voice in the affairs of the Land. ”Strange for sure” ,muttered Himself..and all the time..A harsh Mood was in the Air..Blowback was coming, and all knew it...

Memo’s flying. All in Haste. Accusations of who said what to whom and When.. And little boots had had brought it all about, that Sly Fox famed for the Old Duck and Side-step..Pinching Queens and giving Heads of States nicknames...like Fat Boy etc.

He  was safely tucked away in the Land Of Doze.... Deciding things while in the arms of   the King of  Nod...Just coming out now and  then for  a photo op......

 

All in vain. The product of the Duke of Twit was Coming up Short..

And all of His Gang, Breathy with the Eternal Stench of Death....

All Masters of the Old Shift and Dodge.                                                                      .Memo Factoids..PHD’s all..Ouragagous Punitocracy justifying all...This time is was different..There was a new buzz about...Memo’s really flying...cybernetic ally Gifted humans who were by now  quite skilled in the Mephisto Waltz. Paraded in the front line calling all of the shots..

A band of Claquers exploding with The Grand Indignity. Shocked by the reluctance of the Peasants to fall in line. Had gathered right up front in the Audience to  snicker  and make insulting remarks....Yet the show went on...What a stage play .....Saw it with me own two eyes....

 

 And back Home here in Clown Town where the Main Feature was the Grand Bamboozle and Free baseball hats, and a 6 pack of your choice.......Yep....

Boss Sauce inducing the 5 o’clock Drowse praying to the Great God of Ducking out...

Not quiet as colorful as Oz but Qz none the less...

 

                                                                                                     

 

 

AUTHOR : JIM BEAL.

 

 

CHILDREN OF THE UNIVERSE: WINGS OF THE FUTURE

 

THE  IMAGINAL CELLS OF THE DIVINE BUTTERFLY WITHIN THE DORMANT CHRYSALIS CF 

HUMANKIND

ARE  FORMING ONCE AGAIN . . . 

 

CHILDREN  OF THE UNIVERSE  (AS BECOMING,  EVOLVING BEINGS IN A TROUBLED

TIME):

PREPARE  TO SET YOUR FRAGILE WINGS  TO THE  RUGGED UNKNOWN STORM WINDS OF THE

FUTURE.

GUIDE  US TO REFORM OUR FAITH, OUR LIFE-DESIGNS. HELP US RECALL OUR GOD-LIKE

WORTH

FROM  AMONG THE IRIDESCENT POTENTIALS YOU ARE UNFOLDING AND SHARING.

 

MEMBERS  OF MY SOUL FAMILY, I COME ACROSS THE AGES TO SALUTE THEE  WITH THE

BEAUTY OF THOUGHTS THAT ECHO  THRU CREATION -- AS OUR DESIGNS AND UNFOLDINGS

TOUCH AGAIN 

 

WELCOME HOME!

 

                                                                 

 

AUTHOR: MATT CULLING

 

 

Once there was only song,

 

Now the tears part the way,

Another kind of understanding,

Light moves to distant shadows,

The sun dies, creating movement,

Through the green of the leaves,

The tree grows,

Life knows,

Everything when you wondered why,

Try and see, believe, all that tries,

Friendship grows, love dies,

All that is left behind,

Starts again,

And begins to flourish and grow,

Planting the seeds,

Making the blind realise colours,

That even we cannot see,

Dark in my mind, heavy upon my heart,

Sorrow turns with the breaking of a new day,

Child, laughs, slips and cries,

 

We believe we know all, but knowledge,

Only kills what we believe inside,

A torch, a lantern, a reason we just follow,

A single line, a thousand people, all walking,

The same distant path,

Reality turns into confusion,

When I say, I saw, I heard, I know,

Complications, tangible in this life,

The only answer is why,

And pain and understanding,

Laughter love and happiness is what makes us become one.

                                                                                         

 

AUTHOR: MATT CULLING

 

Exciting infinite limitless

Open up your mind

And it will sing to you

You’re immaculately touched

You know that within yourself

You’re so divine

Whenever tangible

Complicated devotion

Unrealistic emotion

What waits at the end of the rainbow

Beautifully touched

Like a butterfly

                                                                 

 

AUTHOR: MATT CULLING

 

You Are . . .

The richest red

The deepest blue

Indigo

Violet

Any colour that you can perceive

You are

The gleam

The sparkle

The most brilliant shine

You are

The brightest midsummer’s day

The dancing

The shimmering

The warmth from the heart of the sun

You are

The tallest mountain

The deepest valley

The grace of a bird in flight

You are

The reason

The wrong

The maybe

And. . . the right

You are

The twinkle in my eye

The sweetest candy in the store

The thought that makes me smile

You are

The shadows of the moon

The glow from the stars at night

But far and above

And best of all

You are

My beautiful friend

                                                                                                                                                                                              

AUTHOR: MATT CULLING.

 

Maybe one day

Laundry clasped in your hand

Maybe one day

Everyday chores doing the round

The mop cleans the kitchen floor

Maybe one day

Hungry mouths always need feeding

Dependency is you

Maybe one day

Sense will be made

Of this all

Maybe one day

The sun will shine upon you an amber glow

Tired hurting eyes look at you

Sometimes they miss the beauty inside

Another drink poured into a used glass

An angry word, meaningless from its source

But slicing into your very core

Maybe one day

As your sit in silent, silence

Cut only by a harsh word, a shout, a scream

Means everything to you

But

Nothing to me

Maybe one day

Another tear falls upon your pillow

Another hurting dominates your space

Always forever trying

Never parting with your tools

That make you and I

Maybe one day

The rainbow will again be clear

The mists will dissipate

And I will be here

Maybe one day

You and I will see

Together

That what we are is true

The day will break and once again

Vibrant, like a butterfly

You, I, We

Maybe one day as the light fades

Time stops, and stands completely still

The sound slows and dies

Cloaked head to toe in the clarity of now

Maybe one day

Again

It will be

You and me

Me and you

You and I

Always

US!

                                                               

AUTHOR: MATT CULLING.

                                                                                                                                      

                                                                                                                                       

 

A blade of grass, a grain of sand

A coloured pebble, held tight in my hand

I was a child running free

Playing in a lush place

The pasture of the lessons of life

 

Look back, look behind, look to the past now

Take a glimpse to easy to forget, all like a dream

Life can pass you by

An ice cube smashing into a thousand pieces

Or simply melting away

                                                                               

MATT@INDIGOPEOPLE.ORG

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