For Every Rose That Dies (Annotated Verse)

For Every Rose That Dies (Annotated Verse)

For every rose that dies, another one comes alive.
Every dream you dream is a felt frequency.
Hold between your lips, your tongue.
What about [that golem]?
Feel into the power of you.
You’ve got it you’ve got it.
Feel into the power within you.
Feel into the power that is in you.
You are your own god.
You are your beloved one.
You are.
You are.
You are!
You are!!
You are!!!!
You are.

You are your beloved one.
Recognize that fact.
How we treat ourselves,
much worse than we would treat another?
Condemnation, criticizing, doubting our own worth?
Recognize your value, S______,
you, a special creature, just like me.
We’re side by side upon creation’s workbench.
Why are we here?
This dimension we experience
has some special purpose, meaning just for me,
a divine one too, for you I know with special certainty!!!! OMG!!!
What is that purpose, meaning, where to find it?
Don’t take directions from a madman,
mind just as warped as mine.
Look unto yourself because
there is where you always have to live.
The solution is to identify the problem.

You are your own god.
You should worship daily!
Be faithful, in the end, what might occur, but
then again, what is the alternative?
An atheist unto yourself,
disbelieving your divine reality?
Dark heresy: would you deny your meaning, purpose?
Only make public practice of your religion.
Don’t hide your worship in a midnight mass,
but bring it out on Sunday, leave your special smile.
When you start your worship,
when the service does commence,
look around you, who is sitting in the pews?
Fickle, they audition every new religion.
When they see your worship, they might want to join you.
We could start a cult.
Let us all wear dark sunglasses,
purple robes, and drink each liquid
presented to us as a sacred sacrament.

And now your roses:

Every rose that dies, another one would come alive.
Every death is somehow joined with life.
Being born means born to die.
Lots of living in between, but
the real objective is the loving.
I would love you, yes, but really love you!
When that portal opens,
we should explore it with commitment,
as an act of ministration to your beloved,
both unto you and unto me.
Not intermittent but something that might drive us.

The dream again, my thorn would pierce your heart,
draw your blood, that would issue forth,
and join with the color of that flower,
our union making liquid roses.
I would heal your wound with special antiseptic.
Healing with my mouth, the part of me that does the eating.
I would hold between my lips,
my tongue, upon your member.
With the pressure from my tongue,
a bright healing you and I would both receive.
The portal opened once again where that altar was created.
The blood upon it, running down,
our union and our pleasure,
cycling worship of our bodies and ourselves.
Participation in that cycling that I hope you’ve thought of too.
I would be inside you, as much as you might allow.
Bring healing to you just as I have healed myself!

Every dream you dream, a felt frequency.
A dream of you is all I have,
the frequency obtained by close proximity.
Like Wi-Fi, would you let me have your password?
Adjusting my antenna for improved reception,
of your broadcast, just as I would transmit mine.
Share a frequency, broadcast, transmission, reception, cycling,
repetition, closely, with you, sweet vibration.
Tune with you inside that dream.

Feel into the power of myself.
If not, impossible to write these words.
I have it, I have it, I have it!!!!
When I see you, and the power you project,
like a darshan, transmitted by your five eyes, three of which are secret.
Feel into the power within me, within you,
that you transmitted through the ether,
that I receive and would transmit to you.
Power to incite these words
written to you, a fantasy that I conjure.
Would make you come alive, but I too would honor your reality,
and know it better:
my desire, you are.
You are.
You are.
You are!
You are!!
You are!!!!
You are.