Heavy Is the Noose of Hallelujah

Cold is the valley
of stagnant blood
mucus formed
puss decay
abscess forming
scarred and scabbed
rust implanted
tincture piercing skin
It’s hollow
in the heaven fields
It’s numb in the noose
of the womb
Paradise was a bore
we sought an escape
planned with knowledge
took a bite of the fruit
to balance our sugar
took a mark on the skull
to rupture the gates of freedom
Hot is the venom
of heavy hallelujah
chaos born
anarchic fit
plasma seething
poisoned with passion
lust electric
occulted chalice flesh

The most important circumstances to arise in one’s life are many times of the nature which is outside of one’s control.
It is through one’s choices in reacting to and adapting with such circumstances that the basic quality of life experienced while dealing with whatever necessary adjustments are needed is determined.
When shit hits the fan, start dancing; if you don’t know how, learn fast. Being too slow and/or unsteady of foot leads to a mess out on the floor.
Here’s another damn thing:
Life is a battlefield, but that doesn’t mean you can’t walk around with a dozen roses hanging from your lips. In a world with all these war songs bombing, it’s good to have a few black sheep whose tongues are laced with lyrics of new fruition.
There really are only two choices:
Complain about problems in life while continuing to perpetuate them by participating in the conditions which allowed them to be created; or, seek solutions and seize the future.
Scott Thomas Outlar

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