"Every saint has a past; every sinner has a future."
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 11:29 PM UTC
God is bigger than our failed ability
To deal with life;
That's why He sent Christ
To die for our sins --
And gave us the power to be victors
As he rose again, giving us hope.
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 11:19 PM UTC
It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.
I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea:
But we loved with a love that was more than love—
I and my ANNABEL LEE;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.
And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
So that her highborn kinsmen came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.
The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me—
Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my ANNABEL LEE.
But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we—
Of many far wiser than we—
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE.
For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And the stars never rise but I see the bright eyes
Of the beautiful ANNABEL LEE;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling, my darling, my life and my bride,
In her sepulchre there by the sea—
In her tomb by the side of the sea.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 9:17 AM UTC
~Changing who I am and thinking more about others~
I almost gave Poetry up
Until my mind open itself to humanity details
Imprinting jewels on the side of my head
Infusing with swan wing thoughts
Dancing inside my laws
I refuse to be light as a feather with soft needles
Poking the imprudent Prince and Princesses
Who swag their way into reality with dust mops
I rather strip away from myself
Settling my being inside a cold sun
To find the lost cries of thorn tipped children
Cradling their bruises between my wings
Kissing away the torment and trauma disorders
Until they dissolve like ashes
I will be the fire burning within their souls
Protecting them from harmful appreciation
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 7:33 AM UTC
I visited the place where we last met.
Nothing was changed, the gardens were well-tended,
The fountains sprayed their usual steady jet;
There was no sign that anything had ended
And nothing to instruct me to forget.
The thoughtless birds that shook out of the trees,
Singing an ecstasy I could not share,
Played cunning in my thoughts. Surely in these
Pleasures there could not be a pain to bear
Or any discord shake the level breeze.
It was because the place was just the same
That made your absence seem a savage force,
For under all the gentleness there came
An earthquake tremor: Fountain, birds and grass
Were shaken by my thinking of your name.
Apr 25, 2015
Apr 25, 2015 at 7:03 AM UTC