JERUSALEM'S STREETS

Jerusalem's streets reveal continued footprints of both conquest and defeat lined with a vision of holy bliss. A pagan holding a palm of fire dances along Jaffa Gate as onlookers become aware of echoing bagpipes. The sound grows and the mind refuses to admit darkness. A Festival of Light surrounds the Old City, giving off romantic vibrations that reach the core of all religions and ties them together with a single note. Alleyways cluttered with religious fervor are connected by large stones that each tell a similar story. The Church of the Holy Sepluchre remains a dome containing pilgrams that stands in both shadow and scattered sun in the afternoon light.

FALSE EMBER

Respond to the clatter of disguised figures inspiring a miscount of havoc. Embrace the darkness beyond identity and know that defeat can at times become a neutral sight. Ignorance is a false ember of opportunity, cloaking the truth and intent of the czar's dagger. Delay that vision connected with the demise of youth, fixate instead on the sequence meant to find the infinite. Migration causes the ideology of discovery to be encased in a charted past. Lucid vibrations encourage an imperial fever to reach the meridian of voice. A monarchy built on illusions allows the sound of the mandolin to bribe those dreams heard on the air and release this life to the dance of the Shaman.

MARK OF INDIVIDUALITY

Calculated risk, perpetual history, infatuation fading as the sun climbs across my orbs of light that have now covered time. A disgraced look is given as the heart is drilled into gunpowder. Heed the words of the Kaddish and sound the horn for the edge has finally slipped! Intention and reaction conflict while the elements elect a new member within nature. Pebbles slide towards the water, the shore is touched by a reluctant peace, and the Occident is paying a high price for its knowledge. The entrance to the forbidden fruit is shattered. Shelter has been given to all who seek a mark of individuality. Entangled in a desire to enter night reveals a truth that infects the bones. The fluid of distortion creates a candlelit illusion meant to inspire a blueprint for the mind. Peer into the logic of isolation and know that the exodus lies upon a strange kiss. The dynasty of carnage falls victim to a new sense of silence that leaves a signature related to a rusted mural. Raid the horizon and laugh at the Gods, for who can recall what beauty is projected into a controlled breath. The pulse is a narrative encased in a divided faith that burns through discussed dreams. Ease into the fear of a new day, grasp the unknown, and listen to the gospel of divine poetry designed to cool the blood.