Reincarnation

2 Ghost

/ Daniel Swearingen / 41 Comments


She’s always felt like a cousin, probably was a friend, but throughout my life when she came calling, something deep inside me could breathe. Saw you first when you bathed before a king, after that when Cleopatra brought peridot from Zabargad for Marc Anthony. Think I kissed you on an empty hillside, under moonlight near Calvary. Sometimes we talked into a deep dark night, sometimes hiked high to watch a red star die, nothing was ever clear between you and me. When you climbed into that “Merovingian’s” bed, I walked off to die another death, a revolving revolution a year or fifty-three, and then I see. Like two ghost revolving round, we come back to we.

Once upon a story, or a woodman’s tale, beyond a burning fire, where, Macbeth was felled, we sat beside a burning fire by the northern sea. In that little instance as time went by, the angels came calling as you looked me in the eye, your ghost hair moving, I knew you were forever, but I wasn’t sure about me. You said it’s all better right, for we are just two ghost, spinning lives together, not sure of our host, then just like had happened before, you walked away from me. Saw you once again in the twinkling of an eye, when Ivan sat on Moscow, and his madness made you cry, in that cold darkness, I said it’s still you and me. Like two ghost revolving round, we come back to we.

By the smoke of Shenandoah, in a small well house, we stared into another life, and came back to ourselves. Just a kiss of revelation, was all it took for me. Watched you climb a wire at Auschwitz as the darkness fell, with your gold star hanging ragged what more should I tell, we were only thirteen, when you looked back, and said remember me. I’m not sure if I can continue this history. Still, like two ghosts revolving round we come back to we.

So, I have climbed a virtual altar, and I’ve seen a dream, someone waiting there in data, that must be she. So, it is I write my best words, and I quicken inside, and I call down all the angels and I magic all my rhymes. For when I touch her hand it will be for the final time. Like two ghost revolving round, we have come back to be. We have come back to we! – 06.27.2017 – דָּנִיֵּאל

Tsaritsa (Of all the World) 1989

/ Daniel Swearingen / 7 Comments

Saturated facts from the night of talk we had, it’s the morning without a promise and you make me go. Still an awkward dream, what happened, are those my things, and was it you in blonde and starlight that made the Flatirons glow. Did you rock like Ann Wilson, bring your accent down, pulverize this Boulder nightclub with your Russian sound, for when I looked upon the stage I saw divinity, I saw Tsaritsa of all the world and kingdom sing. Maybe just a crudeness of the state I’m in, for I’d burn in hell forever if I did not sin, but to touch, the thoughts of spirit, that immersed from your skin, and with that I end forever with a win.

“This worlds an awkward place when we rule from inside, you don’t know this yet but you’ve slept with the tide, and opened up the river where I sailed as a queen, and kissed the same lips that you watched sing, and all the world has come on down to this little dream, the place you and I find tonight”.

There seems to be discussion as you walk on the stage, a bouncer looks me over, and I melt away. Then the heavy bass of sorrow filled that smoke filled room, and the crest of all Stalingrad began to move, and all of Colorado stopped for just that night, when my eyes fell on your tight jeans, to your wet mouth bright. So you picked me from a place that I could still not see, Tsaritsa you brought the whole world to me, and the heavens opened crying, thunder came on down, when the empress of the world told me don’t leave.

“This worlds an awkward place when we rule from inside, you don’t know this yet but you’ve slept with the tide, and opened up the river where I sailed as a queen, and kissed the same lips that you watched sing, and all the world has come on down to this little dream, the place you and I find tonight”.

It would be a mistake if I don’t kiss her ear, for she listened and she talked of things, I’d never share, but Tsaritsa of all the world, did you not proclaim, that’s there’s victory in the dance of time.  Did we not climb together down that Northern Steppe, and bathe in all the mystery’s that our lives can’t keep. Forever I will listen when Ann does weep, and the rock of all the heavens moan and scream, Tsaritsa, you’re a dreamer, and you summoned me, for that one night when you sang the world to me.

“This worlds an awkward place when we rule from inside, you don’t know this yet but you’ve slept with the tide, and opened up the river where I sailed as a queen, and kissed the same lips that you watched sing, and all the world has come on down to this little dream, the place you and I find tonight”.

A love story or a one night stand, or it might be something forever. – 01/16/2015 – דָּנִיֵּאל

The Reincarnation of David Asher (Le Fey)

/ Daniel Swearingen / 11 Comments


You have known him from what does not rhyme, you have sensed him running down your spine, in the mirror, at the traffic light, tasting dinner when he’s out of sight. There’s a story about a Sephirotic crook, bringing strangers from the fields of blight, what’s a story when he’s walked it through, seen that seraph, and he knows it’s true. There’s a price spun for what’s good and right, from beginning in the world’s insight, now he’s crying because he’s cried before, felt emotion, it’s what love dies for. Spinning circles in the lives of now, creation ever, and the soul knows how. He’s the stranger standing on the street, hearing and seeing what his lives do speak.

Is it receiving of a strange known sin, backwards masking, from Qabalah within, perfect faith in things known of now, from his lineage of who knows how. Is it tidings of a wayward sea, recognition of where he’ll be, placed upon him when he’s terrified, G_D’s own vision, or inward eye. Ten of Rabbi’s that die at night, quite the killing by Hadrian’s sight, David’s seed from before his sin, ten brothers who sold their kin. So it’s reckoned of all of one, generations for the holy one, David Asher knows all he sees, come he striding from a time filled sea. So it’s reckoned, of balance too, not all sadness for joy comes through, evidenced by glowing skies, you will see them and you’ll know of why.

David Asher walks and heals inside, knowing someday soon he’ll finally die, but before he meets the sky and sea, he will fill you with pure belief. Take and move about your room at night, feel and touch the switch that turns the light, did you know, that it would turn out right, don’t you seek the same when you have died. Deep to deep calls out unto the sky’s, birth of lineage into the night, David Asher by three thousand years, sings his fortune for his day is near.

You have known him from what does not rhyme, now you feel him, he’s you inside! – 11.07.2014 – דָּנִיֵּאל

The Drift

/ Daniel Swearingen / Leave a comment


Image – Reincarnation by Scott Frederick

I think of time, of where it went, not loss or purpose, just what was spent. I lived through portals of some lost sleep, of inclement eons that fall from reach. The drift before, me of wing and sand, the psalm within key, the ring or band. I bend my spirit to reach before, to cancel images from yesterday’s door. In time and circles we always meet, unfinished caverns where deserts meet. Do you not see me, have you not heard, the day before we met on earth. Silk revolution, in sapphire eyes, a stranger beneath these alien skies. I am in search of sparks of light, I’m near the end now, and I will not die. Tell all before me, that tend to drift, the love of someone, helps you to live.

The drift it happens, beyond the breath, it searches meaning in what you meant. It takes your notice of what you think, drowns your meaning in what it keeps. The drift is tragic if you have lied, takes all your past, you are denied. For in the dreams of what you bought, you must have given to those distraught. We dodge like warriors to defeat the end, to find like sinners there is no sin. We die and go before the drift, to circle forward, to begin again. Tell all behind me, before they drift, the love of someone, helps you to live.

I was not king or royal of men, before it happened before the drift. In truth I know not what I was, I needed someone to teach me love. In time it happened I passed beyond, took sparks before me, and touched the dawn. I fell a century, maybe two more, revolved in circles right through this door. What time or lesson, I have brought forth, Hashem’s energy that binds my core, it sends me forward to find the drift, to take within me a better gift. Do tell this legend, before you go, the lost, found journey that all will know, tell all around you, that will now drift, the love of someone, helps you to live. – 06.18.2014 –
דָּנִיֵּאל