Dr Alex Mans

Muddle-bubble-mates Dr Alex Mans

The preview of the book From the poem Newness Hate size Hate size is larger than tender without tolerate with full tempe rhalf-dozen-shape kick-ass conduct our life to many mass some kick-ass nightmare changes our existence share a brief shake of sublime now such an acceptance of our vow just move your chemical balance to be able to shift perturbance a certain crucial interval never acceptable in festival, the circle of darkness encompass, when permission, our inner massin a heck of a lot of trouble breathing deeply blots many stumble, pale toes undulating in wateras soon as becoming self-master self-beingis a drop of water how can becomes self-master newness From The poem "be like Abram!"Recognizing usclearly from others, sometimes difficultto know our mothers before dry ink on any paperas soon asserenity dominate temper feeling relax other times suffer sadness or joy choose the offer burning up aura with many pain how I convert it to just fain?Blood surges in all my face how I can finda real pace?If you are Namrod don't go to fire be!Like Abram to not be tired, the sights enslave me wholeheartedly I cannot escape even partly, my head is whirling in an edd yon my body covers light tidy my racing heart will take flight all the muscles are cramping tight, get wall!Out of my sightit makes tendons From the poemNewness"no hands."No hands for shaking so bad no armsfor cupping so sadno shoulders for slapping warm nobody for embracing charm no cheeks to pate by finger, no lips to kiss by temper, no eyes to stare more sympathetic so warm, tender, exotical lwalls ceils cement around iron, bars cages on ground horror in my heart screams inside my heads treamsit would beend of the time intensely suffer also a dimenot cool, clearor bright any letter to feel more delight, already have lostall talents dissatisfied, lazy, indolent, I should surely toss me up maybe to find any hopelack of light and awarenessstate of sleep unconsciousness From the poem Love"my shrine."Soldier blanket is my shrine sometimes my meditation cubicleTibetian Gum-pa like under blanket, place of my calmness, I touch you in dark smelling hugging touching, kissing you, on the time of tremendous missingI refuge to my shrine a strong wave-like sense surge through mea shiver of aspiration fulsomely solitary confinement doesn't make me solitude, I am merging with youunder soldier blanket. From the poem Love, "ripple of dew."Floating on blue hues drifting on blueberries scattering scent of our sensationon all dull land sulky land waking up inert spirittopsy-turvy like, I see a ripple of dewon your dimple, it was excellent even temporary even short even shriekingly but enthusiasm-fully shaking like Shirly chance like chantingly, passing you between my legs salsa dance like then on my shoulders, pivoting embracingly, four hands playing rubbingly in Antalya's full flowers pond pools touch fullstrikingly cupping digging squeezing coinogingly, life the poem-symphony, in Venice gondola'son shoulder slove vortex longingly, creating volumein Brussel, Istanbul, Louver new wide, dimensionless verge lessfull feel free cherry-shape-chirp cheat-chatting-chantfeet rubbingly in Sarnich under table till sun raise defining new endure ofexploding sensation fully stopless, nowI touch ripple of dewon your dimplefull of enthusiasm. From the poem Love, "stream-mate."Miracle started to persuade our endocrines impeccablyit will exist with Love gigglingly surrounded transmitted to reach openness courage-summoning, palsy-walsy like, submitting to loveis extra sublime even with wishy-wishy sense, wholeheartedly love flesh, bones neediness body language readiness, soul houndish verge-matesaura-matesmoment-mates