Offerings to a Porcelain altar

Again I bow and spew my words. Blessed art thou Porcelain Altar. receive my obeisant gift unheard. Puerile regurgitations anoint without falter.

Worship here I do before you, giving all that churns within me. Tell me....What will you do, when simple thoughts cease to spew?

Will you keep inspirations speeding light? I grasp for words that now come hard. You keep the muse from searching sight. Oh! now fed with the avant garde!

Uhh uhh uuruup aah Bleaa oh buuuurraaaa spits

flush

Nov. 11 ...Here is a poem by one of my friends on DH (Date Hookup) She posts daily in the writers forum there and in the past year I have seen a great deal of personal growth in her writing. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I.

Having Been Made Brand New

I feel my life ebbing away from me. My spirit struggles to be free.

So very tired, seeking much needed rest. Many years flown away, gone now all the best.

Only a fleeting moment in universal time. Such arrogance, to have ever considered it mine.

Darkness rises from far below. Forces pull with a powerfull tow.

Been trapped within this form that endured such strife. Only those living in illusions would desire eternal life.

Engaged deeply in trifeling worldly infiltration. Instead of preparing for this inevitable seperation.

Leaving on this earth only an empty shell. Where once this loving soul did dwell.

Standing above observing the physical abuse. Never having been the temple of it's intended use.

Having been captivated in it's trials and tribulations. Lost sight of the up-coming celebration.

Now being freed from bondage to try once again. To make it thru right, unencumbered with sin.

Shedding and repeating till we're down to the chosen few. Everything old disappeared, having been made brand new.

written by Lee