Deepest Grey © 2009

Written by Glen Yumang Manese

Deepest grey looks directly at me.

Darkest black penetrates from within.

Believe me, this will only happen once.

Mirror does not lie in front of you.

Only tells you to keep living the truth.

Does my image offend at the sight?

Seeking for her god only claims right.

Mortal man does not qualify.

Dignifies worth you have left.

Continues fighting is without end.

Even nature changes amendment.

A flower was my creation from earth.

An extension blossoms from Adam.

Growing is a pair of equal dividends.

Grant me, pardon my aging becomes.

Eve is in her time of youth.

Can my arms hold you through the perils?

You break through polish glass once.

Eternity awaits you and me soon enough.

In joining us, rules are meant to be broken.

Epoch © 2009

Written by Glen Yumang Manese

The immeasurable unit called love.

Absolution merits transfer atones.

Mind evaluates angle lines epoch variable algorithm.

Time against my loyalty is only one woman.

Marvel eliminates all likeliness excusable verse attempts.

About who wishes to deflect these words of her worth?

Mind reflects a myriad undisruptive to nonsense.

The understanding terminology grants approval.

All other factors need not apply to unconditional.

My eviction acts longer each vindication ascertains.

The heart can feed a fuel to encryption hand defines.  

Destination © 2009

Written by Glen Yumang Manese

There is a distance between the both of us.

The destination is at eye’s view to emerge.

The terminal hub can only offer shelter.

Even at this solemn time distance becomes.

Incompleteness tells a void from the comfort.

Far is time or the atmosphere of culture.

In short the glass window shows a mirage.

Travel can be a complicated closure to escape.

Now, thinking of you makes more sense.

Hits my mind and pains the stomach to sickness.

Vulnerable sets in for a moment with waiting.

There’s no pill can fix my resolve to be with you.

Soul's Last Parting © 2009-09-06

Written by Glen Yumang Manese

Prologue

Luring lost lust is within my grasp.  The mating season has arrived to meet once more.  In time his brave spirit will come to plea.  Where in this ritual brave men desire is such beauty. Only the bravery of such men may enter my womb.  So, be wise is your attempt to capture. The longing is a wish to be with my kind.  Courage is a defeat to call cowardice.  Step into my chamber, the satin sheets wait with welcome.  A bounty is pleasure, of wine, and the fruits of labor.  Filling is the euphoria of your belly.  Consuming is the wealth, the gold fever in the heart.  My host is sending the atmosphere to blind your soul.  There is no exit to the doors, which one came.  In satisfying is the hunger in the vapors of the smell.  The aromatic scent is filtering a trance to keep your faith in safe content.  The doors are still within reach to walk away freely.  A glimpse of your shadow is waving his last goodbye.  The distraction of one’s actions is keeping your luring mind.  Even your guardian angel is yelling the lost word of escape.  But your ignorance becomes in swallowed by the timeless moment.  That is attempting to follow the voice of lust.  In the void is out wit by the other called hope.

A false pretense is tripping upon your feet.  Before the envelopment is her sweet arms grab such authority.  Feeding is the glass with more sin.  Drinking is the solitude of her comfort, amazed by the warmth of her skin.  In deception is massaging her silk upon your flesh.  The smooth epidermis is radiating degrees in temperature.  In becoming more within the realms is the comforts of such company.  In her cocaine is numbing the very will to keep such victim.  Relaxing is the weight in the bath of sirens.  In venting is the pore to exfoliate the tension.  Which baits is the hook upon your lips.  The touch of balm is refreshing nectar of bliss.  The queen’s honey is so innocent too never expire.  Tantalizing is the color of sapphire in her eyes.  Hypnotic to dilate is the pupil of reason.  Through the changes is her ability to conquer dominance.  The lavender is cleansing your filth.  In the preparation is taking advantage of the lion’s mane.  A king is among the rest in her cinematic stage.  Beyond the closed panels are the echoes no longer clear, but silent.  In waving are your hands proudly in glorious array.  As she plays her musical tones within are damper sounds. In the melody are broken wishes of times far resolved?  Atop the water’s blue wave gazing is her dance as she floats midair.  As she drips away are the circle drops.  In gleaming is the goddess to cause such riveting sensation.  Which succumb are the goose bumps to her bosom.  Evil is beyond the reach of hell.  The heavens above leave your absence. 

An earthly decision is unfolding the time of discovery.  The steam clouds the very air of breath.  Following is the fog of war’s uncertain theme.  Slipping in is the articles of clothing to her high rise den.  Amending is your fixation to call foul in her inviting circle’s romance.  In licking is the sugar of virgin olive oil from her vixen body’s tone.  Satisfying is the saliva of tongue’s release to the blood orange navel.  The citrus is blinding your eyes with acid.  In the bounds is unknown haste.  But is no contest to close the burning fluidity of pepper’s spray.  Engulfing is the mound of mountain peaks.  The Everest is between the teeth.  The groan is afflicting her claws to the plains.  The plateaus slice crevices to flow the redness of heart’s central core.  The beating unison is thundering away the storm.  In unleashing the sparks are lights energizing effects.  Going through the canals are Suez to the Panama.  Feeling is her throat’s need of oxygen to parts hydrogen.  In her weaning is a plea of relief to exhale.  Meeting is your inhale to captivate the slither of venomous lashing to the cavern.   The magnetic field is pulling her interest to quench your prick.  Gently absorbing the stalactites, which forever give to the interest in the dark corner of the brain’s pulsing addiction?  As the saddle’s horse is her own.  Riding into the fields are overlapping lands to river’s passion gliding her cascade?   The falling is the sweat to bounce and break on the orifice.  Feelings are the senses in the poison to the blood stream.  Sending is the overpowering guilt to no retreat. 

Surrender is a shallow strife.  As the hinder is holding the pressure to the darken sky.  So the repetition continues to the sands of hour glass.  Twisting and turning is the clock of the dials.  The cancer is signifying the six to the nine.  Into the depths is mammal’s rage to give into defeat.  Cries her wolf is yearning to the moon.  The rains are calling her walls of execution.  Elusive is the challenge to the climax.  Into the morning’s late is finalizing the thrust to downward spiral.  Giving into the tunnel is releasing to cause balance, between entities.  Sinking her fangs is drawing the last of her scorpion’s relaxing scheme.  Darkness befalls are the eyes to close, slowly to sleep.  Awakening to the cocoon is her web.  In the dim light is a window remembers your name.  Looking at you is the world of light.  But your shadow is walking aimlessly forgotten.  In her mirror, your age is no longer reflecting youth.  Stepping is you beside the door of faith recalling.  The angel that is your guardian gives your last prayer.  But disappearing is the spirit in the distance heavens.  Turning to beauty is a statue becomes your pride of choice.  The goddess is standing to kiss your lips of death.  Forming is the crystals of your dust.  Taking is the soul’s last parting of goodbye.  As laughter vibrating is the wind of the soon forgotten.  Leaving is the sense of hearing to give a tear of sorrow from your eyes.  Blowing is another kiss to call the final course.  Your ashes are falling to the soil.  Setting is the tone to give your remains to the shadow.  In the end joins his master.  The lioness is waiting patiently another season for a mate.  In the birth of a new will claim another in the cycle of life, but also to death.  The choice is yours for the taking.  The door is once again open - enter if you wish.

***

Shadow’s Silent Reprieve

Take his ashes dark shadow.  This is the void of the other speaking to you.  Bury his remains to the seven continents of the world and his life will be given back as a child once more.  Show the rest that one must be of true heart.  Tell the story of this day and let forth the coming of the next be prepared with her imagery to illusions.  Only then will the battle end in releasing her weakness to be a whole woman once more.  Cast off to the sails of wind and remember to find the noble. The search is far and between, but avenges the rights of the master once called you.  Only the physical has died and the spirit lives on inside.  Carry on the mission for the power of telepathy is yours and the shadow’s silent reprieve releases the rights of his ability to another worthy of the cause.   Go now, she senses my ability and can no longer hold the block much longer from her concealment.  Many have died in the attempt to bring back the order to the immortals and the gift of child birth has long been forgotten.  If one can bear her a child the circle is once again restored to the world and releases the bond of my cocoon with her web of destruction.  The order is not what many believe to be right, but just legends over time.  This place was made by the very injustice of men and the ill effects have gone unnoticed for millenniums.  Many more will come to claim the glory of her paradise realm and fail with repercussion.  Look for the one that fights without remorse and wears the mask of the sun on one side, but also the moon on the other.  She is no man, but the last to bear the child of virtues and in doing so give her rights of immortality.  Claims death for a chance at giving life and sheds tears of sins to be grounded back to fertile earth.

Raise from these ashes my equal.  Become one with your being.  Let’s join to be the pure breed of the others.  The goddess can take a life.  In the cycle must give back the rights of men.  Mastery is defending our ground and claims our place, the territory which awaits a rebellion for the taking of the land.  A duty fulfill the moment of the duration, in the absentee of the chosen.  The villains have empowered, calling a new defiance against the birth of men.  Questioning is the jealousy in their eyes.  Only one can survive, to claim the throne.  Fear not the death for the road leads all to witness, the fall of the triumph.  A goddess rewards the victory.  Standing is the last for all mankind.  A change in time will come to give birth of her daughter.  As the world lives in a spectacle of the battle’s cry.  One calls for evil and the other so called good.  The third is a blending of a neutral.  Trust nothing in the glory of such gathered men.  We are the shadows.  The choice of all is not well taken.  Only once in a season becomes like flesh with immortals.  Many oppose the very presence of your birth.  Knowing they cannot touch, the transparent being given back to the world of light.  Darkness does not exist in this isolation.  Only in the caverns can one seek the night’s existence. 

The eclipse comes every thirty years.  The time will come fast a draw, take a moment to remember, and recall the faces of envy, for they will never forget your presence.  A passage is given to pass the corridor to freedom.  As your age will come like numbers to the days, though the time line has no effect in such minion.  Only in the hours of the times, in the dimension of her safety can your true appearance show in the mirror of time.  One is given a choice to enter and leave back to the times of light.  Once the illusion plays the notes, your eyes will not grant another.  Overpowered by the artistry, in the orchestrate movement of an orchestra.  In the last, a plot becomes an influence in the living as the dust of the dead gives back a righteous hand.  A tear is given back life.  A bold stare of defiance, takes the life of the chosen.  Laughter will be her answer.  An inhale of your dust will never see the light, no more.  The road is long, so venture the land’s constant wisdom.  Keep your eyes open to the truth. 

The surrounding will deal the cards of life.  Your heart is a deuce at the moment.  Remember the others carry a different symbol.  Making the trump to be an ace is your goal.  Knowledge is the key to prevail the obstacles that call each wake.  As sleep is an act of weakness.  Do lay in the darkness, but know as your eyes are closed.  Many are watching your every move.  Your true image appears in the darkness, like all men, exactly the opposite in the light.  On the day of the eclipse, your curse is no longer a shadow, but one with men.  Rest now, sleep deep in your rest.  The birth of your seed is growing into the wind.  Your first eight years will be a reading of wisdom.  The first is your ability to walk the land.  The second are ideas to speak the words of the realm.  In the third, becoming the child.  In the fourth is understanding of the printed word.  The power of written verse has no book, but writing on the walls of the caverns.  A time is when the world was a unity, now so far a cry.  The four years to develop the pain staking task to absorb a brain of a sponge.  Do not squeeze too hard the idea to understand at one reading, become one with the words of the answers laid in full view. 

All will make sense as the story of the ancients unfolds, before your very eyes.  Skip not a glance of the words; study each line to absolute memory.  How does one live to sacrifice his life to gain another by chance?  Knowing death is rumbling without the chance of escape.  Men battle the opportunity to become the actions in their own ways.  The thrill of being the bold is better, then the worst to be the living in constant distress.  Death is the deal which takes your final rest, but causes the life of the unity to be once more.  Failure is an option, though the others are willing to be the first in line, but only your kind has ever succeeded in her rituals of mating and has been given back to the world of light.  Others have failed in the last moment of her kiss of death.  Consuming their souls to keep her satisfied, but the question is more then just why your spirit is here?  Does her womb grows that of a child and caused her much laughter.  Another chance at life to answer that question lies in waiting, but that is far and between to the next thirty years.  Immortality would be given a chance to be like mortals once more to the world.  A chance to give birth is not by the actions of one, but daughters of the forgotten.

Narcissistic Narrative © 2009

Written by Glen Yumang Manese

Once blamed God are for my attributes.

Only to look into his grace tells otherwise.

Years have passed in gaining the truth.

Denial sets in like ice over the skin.

Trap my body in suspended animation.

While many see the full spectrum of color.

Everything through my eyes is grey.

Touching is an instrument of my craftsmanship.

Dull and lifeless is graphite to a white sheet.

Everyone else is painting arrays of pastels.

Shadows and light limit my ability to concede.

Why not give up the venture altogether?

 Turn against the rule of injustice.

Write the subjective matter instead.

Create my artistry with vivid words.

Magnify the intensity of my portraits.

Not draw back in seclusion of purgatory.

A gift is not a box wrapped in paper.

Only open and see a narcissistic narrative.

One must see an empty shell as the real endeavor.

What’s put in the container is life-giving.

What’s taken-out of the entire possible avenue?

Blends my character was made to be in life.

The fire is slowly melting a release to be over.

This eternal slumber awakes to finish.

The time has come once more to be whole.

Limitation no longer holds power over my actions.

Probability © 2009

Written by Glen Yumang Manese

(Dedicated to my new muse, Oblivia)

There will come a time to embrace.

Open arms freely attach to one another.

The earth brings closer together.

Only are rivers, oceans, and mountains.

Stormy weather delays a progression.

A sad time frowns, but happiness to smile.

A river can be cross even with the rushing rapids.

The ocean harbors a much harsher condition.

No matter the mountain, all have been buried.

They all are amount able to a degree of difficulty.

Weather will calm a predictable probability.

The glum look in your eyes turns into light.

The glow resonates in between both of us.

There are only boundaries meant to be broken.

Thin Air of Vapor © 2009

Written by Glen Yumang Manese

(Dedicated to my new muse, Oblivia)

The lesser of me tells me to flee.

The more of me carries me to be set free.

This moment stays to stand my ground.

Just let go of the burdens that compound.

Once there was no picture to admire.

Twice vision was lost in thin air of vapor.

A double take knows now of the reality.

Mentality has cast a shadow of the visibility.

A leaf is an existence for a moment of time.

Catching that second was a standstill of the crime.

All has come down to this minute transforms.

The hour beckons a measure of the ticking clocks.

The lesser of me tells me to flee.

The more of me carries me to be set free.

This moment stays to stand my ground.

Just let go of the burdens that compound.

Quickly, how this is forgotten over the years.

Lies in conformity matters are not cover the tears.

Closer to the day is when the voice takes me.

Yes, says without remorse to doubt and flee.

No, plays a disappearing act and retreats.

A return is an act of worthy and believes.

What is made of these precious times?

Time can mend and throw away the watches.

Epitome © 2009

Written by Glen Yumang Manese

(Dedicated to my new muse, Oblivia)

The will to forgive is one aspect of thinking.

The concept to forget is demise.

Forgive me for my age has surpassed.

Forget the aspects are useless artifacts.

The epitome of being the best lacks luster.

That settling in with society governs me.

Debates with others interests only weakens.

Knowing the difference sends me on my way.

Glory out weights much the superficiality.  

The sky only looks beautiful at times of cumulus.

Ever-learning the storm is just waiting to wash away.

Another day will come to reign again to replace.

Flows are sediments of your creativity back to the ocean.

Gains nothing of forgiveness and forgets over time.

Oblivia © 2009

Written by Glen Yumang Manese

(Dedicated to my new muse, Oblivia)

The endless point believes not.

Constitutes every turn is a failure.

The shortest distance to her is not feasible.

A straight line grows ever so long.

One step is actually divided into divisions.

Each movement gets closer to objection.

The obvious climbs an unplanned journey.

Oblivia sends darkness coming to light.

The other must figure the path has an end.

The mind is a beautiful creation to create.

Reaching the object of affection comes naturally.

That touches a boundary even compelling for words.

More over to the nature of her interest is simple.

But difficult at the same time is my amusement.

Solitary beings are very much open-minded.

Forgetful to the under-minded that invades our space.

There is complexity with all the mixtures of perpetual.
 

A Letter to the President © 2009

Written by Glen Yumang Manese

What judgment do we measure a great leader?

Do we take those of the legacies to instill a focal point?

Do we really learn from their mistakes to take all action?

In this subjective matter gives blame for an error.

A mistake is the costly division to turn the backs of a nation.

Even in the likelihood event that an elected official becomes a president.

That the solution is a universal issue to those called the people.

An undivided citizen of men and women comes together as a union.

The beliefs of one can truly solve a crisis in making a happier tomorrow.

That a leader looks to the past too better reflect the answers for a future.

This reality hits like a storm to undertake the powers of a presidency.

In giving is a definitive answer to the problems laying in full view.

The sleeping children will rise no matter to weather conditions.

The growing adults cannot rest to the meaning of untidy predicament.

A foundation is family, religion and governmental stability.

The protection of freedom is a dutifully unconditional military.

A leader is willing to experience the battlefield at firsthand.

In full support of those under such situations of complete sacrifice.

A private is after all the first to carry on the mission to a way of life.

Values are that a country continues without the burden of strife.

That lies on the decisions of a president to amass in constant struggle.

In the ultimate utilization of honor are the orders of Commander-in-Chief.

That we first wake to feed the sustenance to the children.

In becoming is the institution as a family to the core values of care.

That neglect is not a question to an intellectual mind of a child.

In becoming is the next generation to uphold a standard of living.

That hopes lies in the prayers of each night's comfort.

In knowing necessities out weight an instrument of want.

A provision is the economical and welfare of the United States.

In keeping close contact with the divisions of our world leaders.

The fundamental statement is not deafening after the facts of office.

That in planting a new seed will blossom to echo once more.

The flower of birth is given a voice to insure no doubt in confidence.

In the integrity to fulfill the missing pieces left to stray too long.

In the deficit are monetary and ill heaths of a nation's well-being.

The conduct of business is not to benefit only a few.

While many stand sidelines without means to work. 

A chess board is won with the assets of the importance of movement.

The best defense is looking back at the misplacement in development.

The king cannot fall to the opposition with a stronger resilience.

The unity is sporadic with a remedy to recovery.

The vision of our eagle is open to the determination.

Matters rest solely in the decisions of good judgment.

In writing is this letter to the President.

A leader can claim vindication of greatness.

In the pursuit of responsibilities is an ever-rising nation.

Push © 2009

Written by Glen Yumang Manese

(Dedicated to Mealeva Tam)

Maybe I’m pulling too hard or push away too far?

There is a time when overwhelming is tightening.

Fighting the everyday needs a holiday.

Where saying nothing at all means more.

The silent hesitation will make her wonder even more.

But I hide nothing even for a pause in words.

So I say this freely without the remissions of actions.

Clearly the openness to be is daunting a task.

Out of respect calls this question to be answered.

I am pushing and she is opposite of me pulling.

Frequency © 2009

Written by Glen Yumang Manese

Love by all, but satisfied by none.

Hated by many, but dislike is a better tone.

Yelling to the heavens and no one is listening.

Hell has antennas catching every frequency.

Where have all the souls gone if not here?

Immortality is given after death.

Who needs to worship any longer?

Blaspheme some would say after this remark.

There was a man who lived and died.

Came back to life and has never returned.

King of kings they called him.

There must be a way off this isolated planet.

How many must die before he is satisfied?

Belief is the escape to the afterlife.

Where the other Earth is called Heaven?