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flames
lick the horizon
consuming all the stars
the moon is
burned in
effigy
no more venus
no more
mars

ash falls down
like snowflakes
cinders fall
like hail
comets
stream the
atmosphere
with hell
fast on
their
tail

crimson
light comes
from the east
but all sight
is gone
yes
the
sky is
RED
and it
isn't even
DAWN


Write of Passage
soulsurvivor
catherine jarvis
(C) october 18, 2014

red sky at morning
sailors take warning
2red sky at night
sailor's delight
---+$+---

the glass half empty
  is often the milk
of human kindness

---+$+---


SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
(C) 2/7/2016


TRUTH
When Hope is Deferred
When you're at your lowest
Your life seems null and void
When your dreams are shattered
The storm you can't avoid.
There is a way to lift the heart
A way you can be buoyed

You may believe it's all God's fault
That's when you begin
To cut your nose to spite your face
You let the devil win

Because, my dears, IT'S HIS FAULT!
That putrid, stinking LIAR!
Don't let him get you mad at GOD
and take you to the fire!

Turn on the Monster Satan
At least give it a try
Destroy his works where he lurks
Give 'im a BLACK EYE!

WRITE A POEM ABOUT IT!
Why not make it TWO!
About the love of God above
And how He has helped YOU!

Take the trip and flip the script
Jesus is a friend
No matter what the obstacles
THIS IS NOT THE END!

Do not be despairing
God's hand's not weak at ALL...
Pray for good, it's understood

THEN WATCH SATAN FALL!!



SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc
2022

I'm going through some of the hardest times I've never experienced. But I'm not going to be stuck in self-pity. What I'm going to do is destroy Satan's works by doing good. Forgiving my enemies. Praying for them. Praying for everything that I know it's along the lines of God's will. That's the best way to deal with this situation. God is still large and in charge! Amen.
soft
candle's
glance
on
amber
rings

the
moist
temple
where
­blon­d
hair
clings

dark
whiskey
eyes
where a
chandelier's
swings

t­he
single
note
where a
cello
sings

i
stop
and
contemplate
these
­things

with
lovely
­angels
plucking
strings

we
had
golden
nighte­ngale

wings


soul­survivor akà
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc

Catherine Jarvis
(C) 8/32/2015


a poem about my first love
i think about him
from time to time
© 7 hours ago,
...sometimes chocolate,
sometimes the wrapper.



SoulSurvivor aka
Write of Passage aka
Invisible inc

Catherine Jarvis 2024
^
< ☆ >
\/



the dust of
creation
breathes
deeply
of
the
nebulae

it has
dreamed
dreams
of
diadems
in the
belts of
great hunters

then has
Orion
stroked
the
galaxy
as we have
gazed
then
gotten used to
weightless
heaven's
harbor

for it's
there that
we
will
be
back

    *  HOME  *  


^
<  ☆  >
\/


SoulSurvivor
Write of Passage
Invisible ink
(C) 2/17/2016
The legend of Bobbie Jo


The bar room was noisy
When Bobbie Jo sat down,
Her stage was like a postage stamp
Her eyes creased in a frown.

Her T shirt was faded
Her jeans full of holes
But her face had a beauty
Neither young nor old.

She slung the strap of her guitar
Behind her slender neck,
Six silver strings to strum
Six Silken Strings to pluck.

The instrument was battered
In need of some repair
But the damage was cosmetic
The music *lived in there.

Her hands were not that beautiful
Red tipped, raw *****, and small
They looked almost masculine

The first chord was a *drawl.

Hooked up by a chord
To an electric amp,
She tuned her instrument a bit
And put on a clamp.

When she began strumming
Live music filled the place
The cowboys kept up with their noise
But a smile crept 'cross her face.

The chords crept into plucking
A Flamenco kind of riff
Spanish at its finest

The laughter seemed to drift...

Off into the distance
And the familiar chords
Of country western "Crazy"
Hit the ***** Tonkin' boards...

"I'm crazy for tryin'
And crazy for cryin'

I'm crazy for lovin' you..."

Her voice was melodious
But it was haunting, too
Much like Joni Mitchell
But with a country blue.

Then the chords got lively
In a folksy slang

"The Night They
Drove 'Ol Dixie Down..."

The walls of that place *rang!

Baez could do no better!
The music did its thing...
Boy! That girl could play that box!
Man! That girl could SING !!!

The place was deadly silent
When she sang a blue
And it was a stompin'
When the beat picked up its tune!

It got to be midnight
The middle of the night
She had taken not one break!
The music? OUTA SIGHT !!!

It got to be 2AM
She still kept up her strum!
And the cowpokes
were tired clappin'
By the time the night was done.

When it was finally over
She picked up her case
The owner came over
A strange look on his face.

He said to her, "Young lady,
You made a helluva night...
The best sales here ever
And there was not one fight!
I want you on here permanent
Could you do that, please?
I'll give you $500 bucks a night
And I'll help you release
A country music album
You've written your own stuff...
I'll help you release it.
It's way good enough...

She said, "That's okay my friend,
I made $500 there
They piled the money in all night
It's right inside my jar...
So I'd best be goin'
The Greyhound leaves at five...
I'm headed for Nashville
I think I will survive.
Just remember me some later on
When you hear my songs
You can say I played here
And the music was real strong."

He gave her a wry smile
And he said, "You bet..."
He would sure remember
How could he forget?

She had to turn some cowboys down
When they kinda came on strong
She had a big ol' bus to catch
So she left alone...

No one ever saw Bobbie Jo again
But later on they heard
Her bus had an accident.
Killed everyone aboard.

But her legend still lives on
Where her music rang
The cowpokes swear
her ghost still plays...

Everywhere she sang.

SøułSurvivør
A looong poem! Thanks for reading
it all... for a guitar playing friend.
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