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Josephe Buchanan

Bodies and gun shells
Evidence of Aliens
Black magic and blood

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A sweet silent night
A gunshot penetrates peace
Cops... Then peace again

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Black is color of my true love's hair

So many songs have been written about my love.
The beautiful color of my true love's hair. The hair of a powerful beauty.
Black as a wormhole or as simple as a crayon.
Made of ions, electrons and protons, my love must have created all things
for her hair supports everything.
From the planets, moons, suns, constellations and universes. My true love has no prejudice or hatred for any one being instead love for all she creates.
Her face lights up planets and her waters house life while her skin supports all walking creatures and four legged enigmas.
Her eyes are stars gazers while her smiles are super novas
and her beautiful black hair is simply the dark matter in space.

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Merkabah

Some tell of love stories where fire becomes a mother in healing

Wheels within wheels, where hell becomes a myth, and heaven becomes the
present

The cosmic chariot of the soul, the sacred fire, and transfiguration of
energy

It comes from the deep darkness within ones Neshamah,

Prayer to the divine Elohim, and the18th breath of life

Once ascended in that ring of fire, a being can fly beyond space and
sky

Some call it the fire in the sky, seen only through sacred third eyes

Sweet like the spirit of the sacred Shekinah,
One key in Metatronics

[...] Read more

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September Girl

My September girl is a master of her own inner Sanctum.
Her beauty is paralyzing to onlookers, who never seen that side of her continent.

My September girl gave me all of her love, soul, body and attention.
She will always be a treasure in this man's heart.
Her beauty is art and when she would leave, he would ask where is thou art?

My September girl has an inner door, that can only be opened by a special key.

This key he did not obtain, for this chorus was, and is still in his mind, and brain.

Never can be to intoxicated off of her love, for she is like wine, and spirits, that never left a hangover.

My September girl comes from March, which can be seen as Mar's, for her visage was alien to me. What can I see when I look in her soul?

My September girl is Godly and deep. When she was with me she was asleep.

Now that she awoke from that cloud of smoke,
she realized her uncanny potential, her uncanny soul, and spoke of a dream where she was as sweet as September.

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Brooklyn 'Extended

Beautiful culture

Parks, brownstones, cheesecake, and BAM

Home away from home.

Children museums

Legends of Dodgers,

And Masonic lodges.

Blocks and bodegas,

24 hour beer and food;

A Non sleeping borough.

Pharmaceuticals!

[...] Read more

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