blue grey clouds
of crushed
velvet

sunlight
tears
the
seams

[10W]
Catherine Jarvis

I'm melting in the
Tucson sun
We're having
Record highs
Sweat pours
Down my body
Getting in my eyes.

115° in the shade!
Still hot in the home!
All we have's a
Swamp box...
Cooled by that alone!

I'd rather live in
Snowy climes
I'd rather have it freeze
It's 9pm at night here
And 102 degrees!

At least when it is cold
You can bundle up
With cloth,
But in these
Record temperatures

*only so much to
TAKE OFF!

We have here a group, no... a FAMILY
of poets who are the most beautiful,
compassionate people!

I can say without reservation that this is the best site I've ever been on. And the site is only as good as the poets on it. You have really stepped up to the plate and gone to bat for me and my family. By your good thoughts and prayers Miracles have been accomplished in my life.

Update on our little dog Cocoa. She is completely healed. This is nothing less than a miracle. We were able to use a credit card so she could see a veterinarian. But I believe God also answered our prayers and had given her healing. He is such a gracious and loving God that he cares for not only ourselves but the things we love also. Including our pets. I give him all the praise and glory! But I want to thank you all also. There is nothing no more powerful than corporate prayer. So if I seem like I tell you my whole life and ask for prayers I am not trying to burden you. I want to see the Miracles that are happening as they take place. You are powerful. Your prayers and thoughts are powerful. And I love you all from the bottom of my heart. You're so wonderfully talented in every way. People of such diverse nationalities and beliefs but with a single goal. To bring Beauty, inspiration, and understanding to those far away and near. I feel like you're my family. Everytime I press the little heart and read your writings I say a prayer. And I know there are others out there who do the same. I urge those who also experience miracles to write about them. It gives me Faith and Hope the things do change for the better in this world. And if there is a healing or a turnaround in your life it could be answered prayer. I know without reservation that my prayers touch the Throne of God. I don't say this to brag. I want to encourage you to pray and fast. It works. It TRULY DOES.

Hello Poetry ROCKS THE WORLD!!!


LOVE
Catherine °°••☆¤●♡°°••☆¤••°°

It whispers in blood
Makes a flute of our bones
Makes vapor of sweat
It hums and it groans
It's a static in hair
Has a life of its own
We're empty without it
As cold as a stone

It has passion to warm
Has tongues that can talk
It will help to confirm us
To Christ and his walk
It's a Shepherd to guide us
It can heal the flock
It can chastise us
Can You Feel the shock?

O ohhhh... FIRE! (2X8)

It refines by its heat
Like a stone in a mill
It crushes the wheat
It can comfort & fill
It gives courage to hearts
Teaches us to be still
It's grace, it is art
It's simply God's will...

It goes up in red sparks
It's an eternal flame
Will press into the mark
And won't leave us ashamed
Convince with one word
Won't leave us the same
It's not going to change
And I AM is its NAME...

O ohhhh! FIRE! (2X8)

[BRIDGE]
It'll melt solid rock
Or is cold as the snow
From God's heaven above
Or from Hades below...

O ohhhh! FIRE! (2X10)


SøułSurvivør
(C) 1/11/2018

First, I want to thank you for all your support. Your response to my poem "Tears of a Rose" has been overwhelming. I am nearly in tears as I write this. Not only because I am so moved by your faithfulness in reading my work, but because due to pressing problems at home I cannot read myself. I would love to go through my notifications and thank each and every one who has responded to me. I simply can't right now. Therefore I am writing this post. Just to let you know how much I love you.

♡♡ I  £♡¥€ ¥OU A££!!! ♡♡


HUPOMONE: Greek meaning to persevere under extremely adverse conditions. The fight for faith & piety unto death.


WARRIOR WOMAN!

Is it hard? Then bring it on!
Life is for the brave & strong!
Is it trials? Mighty tests?
I will give it ALL MY BEST!

HUPOMONE is the term.
I will fight! I will burn!
The devil thinks
That I will fold...
That only makes me
Brash & bold!

Warrior Women
Stand up tall!
Bring ' em on!
We'll see 'em FALL!

HUPOMONE is the Word
Sword of spirit
WILL BE HEARD!
Slicing through all
Binding cords...
Killing off the devil's hoards!

Though with the lost
We've gentle hands
We are soldiers.
A mighty band!
And through redemption

WE WILL STAND!


SøułSurvivør
(C) 10/10/2017

@---\---------

Rainbow rose
Grows in my heart
It's roots & blossoms
Are pure art
They are silver
Solid gold
By their colors
I am whole

The purple petals
Are my pain
Emotions I cannot restrain
Passionate, I rise above
To my King,
The One I love!

The light then shifts
To indigo
Knowledge of the
Things You show
It lies within
All wisdom's womb
Bringing lilac to its bloom

When flowering blue
It brings me peace
That is when
All strivings cease
No turmoil in
A mind so worn
Proving You
Can calm the storm

The rose is green
When in the wild
God's creation -
His own child
It calls to mind
Meadows of grass
All of nature comes to pass

The crystal spectrum
Shifts once more
Brightest yellow
Is in store!
Inspiration!
It shimmers... shines!
Showing depth of
His great Mind

Orange for a sunset phase
Completion of the
Passing days
The color of the
Harvest moon
Low to the foothills
Waning soon

It shines then a scarlet red
For the blood
Which Jesus shed
Death couldn't
Keep Him in the grave!
He bled for me -
and I am saved!

Within my heart...
Within my SOUL
It is made of purest gold!
Lying in the
Stream which flows

He's my Savior...
RAINBOW ROSE!



SøułSurvivør
(C) 9/28/2017

There was a man from England
In truth a man of God
Wigglesworth's a funny name
And he was a little odd.

He earned his keep as plumber
Worked hard to learn the trade
But he knew a man named Jesus
So he HEALED and souls were saved!
There were even some occasions
Where he brought folks from the grave.

He was not a man of letters
Could not read till 23
But he always had a love for God
As humble as can be
He had great compassion
Would set the captives free!

Before his ministry began
He wanted to be pure
He would lock himself behind closed doors
The Lord worked out his flaws
He was of a different age
But his memory endures

Everywhere that man went
The people flocked around
The lame could walk! The blind could see!
The meetings holy ground!

He was not a Methodist
Episcopal at all
But he went to those churches
When he received a call
He believed in Pentecost
And he brought a Spirit fall

Everything he did in life
Was for his love for Christ
He gave all his money
For missions - at great price
He couldn't even spell
But no action was a waste

Powerfully written
His books sold round the earth
"EVER INCREASING FAITH"
To this day has worth

Oh! That we'd have his faith now!
Here in the U.S.
But WE worship MONEY
So we are in distress
We worship self and worldly gain
And our lives are a mess

Take me, OH! My precious Lord!
Pull me from this mire!
I want to be a Wigglesworth...
To THIS cause I ASPIRE!
Give me his compassion
The tears! In ME INSPIRE!
For years I have been waiting
You've tried me in the fire!
I want ever more of YOU!
Jesus! Take me higher!

Yes! I have the willingness
Yes! I'll build my faith
But will I stick to it?
For that is what it takes!

There was a man in England
His first name was Smith
And there's scarce a man today
Who can match his gifts.

We haven't the willingness
All WE want are perks
Scarce a "workman of today

Who'll roll up sleeves and WORK.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/15/2016

You drew a heart
with your pen...

... on paper skin.


Soul Survivor
2014

I don't honor Easter
Bunnies hoppin' on one leg
I have no taste
For colored "peeps"
Or chocolate Easter eggs

Thanks to
Emperor Constantine
We have this pagan brew
I find the worship of Ishtar
Has me in a stew!

The holidays of pagans!
And to see events of Christ
Blended in with all of it
Has my stomach in a vice!

Take your rabbits
And your "Ishtar" eggs
I'll just have to pray
I'd just prefer to call this time
RESURRECTION DAY!

Every year as a child
We'd go down to the mall
Spread blankets on the new mown grass
And watch the fires fall
The display was not a large one
For Tucson was quite small
But on my father's shoulders
And I felt Ten Feet Tall!

At dusk the fireworks began
With blasts... staccato pops!
We'd watch with awe the sparklers
That would, as fat sparks, drop!
It would get brighter and brighter still!
It never seemed to stop!

The oohs and aahs of the crowd!
The smell of grass fresh cut!
Looking up! Exploding embers!
My eyes never shut!

At last! The finale!
What a fireworks display!
We were tired at the end...

.... but it was a PERFECT DAY!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 7/4/2016

~~~


what do i know
that hasn't been written
the past i throw
the future not given

each syllable speaks
through ancient valleys
through pica peaks
through rain soaked alleys

when i run, my friend
i feel too much
in the world at its end
I'll recall your word's touch

when i read
your thoughts impart
the spaces between you bleed

your ink into my heart



soulsurvivor
(c) 7/26/2015

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

PAPERS! PAPERS EVERYWHERE...
AND NOT A* THING TO READ!

The thing I remember most about being in the Sea Organization at the Hollywood Org were all the PAPERS! Directives as I was to find. That's what they called memos. We were in a branch of L Ron Hubbard's private little army don'tcha know. Everything, therefore, had a military bent. More specifically we were in the navy. There were personnel who were labeled "bosons". And there were people with the rank of "Supercargo". And Commanding Officers. Actually, LRH would have liked us to be thought of as MARINES. Navy Seals!
He was really THAT egotistical. HIS title was COMMODORE. Yep. His overweening pride took him THAT FAR.
ANYWAY. So there was a storm of paper. Directives EVERYWHERE! Piled on desks. In inbaskets. In boxes. On filing cabinets, which were woefully insufficient for the veritable blizzard of PAPERS! I was forced to read these. DULL AS DITCHWATER. But I was given my own little pile, and a dictionary. Any words I didn't understand could be found in there. I was to look them up. And an extensive memo about the meaning of the Scientogeese which I was to learn. There was an entire LEXICON of THAT, let me tell you! More on that later on. AND we we didn't have TIME to read anything ELSE! Our day was filled with CHORES.... or reading of said PAPERS.

Then I began to notice the other "personnel" around me. NONE of whom appeared to be HAPPY. They were a grayish sort. Looked like the sun very seldom glanced their skin. Glum, yet (for all appearances), VERY dedicated. Then there were folk who seemed to be separate from the other workers. They wore filthy dark blue or black clothing, appeared to run everywhere, and address everyone as "Sir". They were called the RPF. Rehabilitation Project Force. Remember that unit and its abbreviation. For they are to loom large later in my narrative.

But there WAS one person who brought sunshine into my otherwise dreary world...

MARILYN.

Marjorie picks up the phone,
She's quite sure that she's alone.
Punches in her "good friend's" number
She's excited! It's no wonder!
Something naughty to convey!
Can't wait to tell! Can't wait to say!
"Hello, Sally? Yeah, it's me!
I'm at the window... guess what I see!
You know that ***** across the way?
She's with another man today!
Hannah's hubby, right next door.
Can you believe that little *****?!!
I'm telling you 'coz I'm your friend
This wicked business has to end!
Wait a minute... there they GO!
They're leaving! I'll bet you know
Where they're headed. Oh, you bet.

A motel room is what they'll get.


Juicy fruit spills from the lips
Open mouth and out it slips
Sweet as strychnine to the tongue
Where the poison apple's hung.
If you've nothing nice to say
We're all ears! Come our way!
There's a tale to be told
Don't matter if yo young or old
It's a secret on the block...

... if it's scandalous, LET'S TALK!!!

Sally John finds her PC.
She has another "friend" you see...
"Hello, Jane? Just talked to Marge,
Got some news, and it is LARGE!
You know that harlot up the street?
You'll never guess her latest meat!
Hannah's hubby! Oh, her ****!
I can't believe this awful biz!
Marge told me, it can't be wrong,
They were KISSING... ON THE LAWN!!!
Then they drove off  in his car...
They weren't going very far
No-Tell Motel's where they're at...
Whatcha expected from an alleycat.
Hannah's gonna flip her lid!

I won't tell, so keep it hid...

-chorus-

The story spread around, of course.
Hannah's filing for divorce.
Then her hubby lost his job...

... as pastor of a CHURCH of GOD.

And the *****? Well. She died.
She committed suicide.

The real story was quite sad,
And I hope it makes you mad.
"Harlot's" son? He needed pills.
Guess no one knew that he was ill.
She wasn't goin' very far...

... and her pastor had a car.

Who's the culprit? Who's to blame?
Guess we all know her name.
Who's to count the tragic cost?
With one stroke two lives were lost!
Her little boy went 'round the bend.
An alcoholic in the end.

The tongue can be a thing of praise
Or ignite a mighty blaze!
So check your heart. Check your mouth.
Make sure that it's not headin' SOUTH.
Kindness is joy in age or youth....

... you reap what you sow and

THAT'S the TRUTH.


SoulSurvivor
Catherine Jarvis
(C) July 5, 2010

There is a lady in the night
A constellation fair
Lady of the Crescent Moon
You'll see her sitting there.

She wears a diadem of stars
Opals of bright hues
Each color in it represents
A soul who's been abused.

She, who is their patron
Lets them shine like suns
She holds them in the heavens
And cares for every one.

She holds a scepter crystalline
Wears rubies on her sleeves
Her bossom alabaster stones
A tapestry she weaves.

The crescent moon behind her
It's beams are like a flood
It is a second diadem
For she's of royal blood.

AH! You cannot see her?
No. You will not see her soon
You'd only see from VENUS

Lady of the Crescent Moon.

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

WONDERLAND: THE FLATTENED APPLE

Someone told me once Los Angeles was the Flattened Apple. You take New York City and squish it down like a pancake and you've got Los Angeles. Someone else told me that the Big Apple is full of worms. Well. If Los Angeles is any indication, that statement goes well beyond *truth.

There are parts of LA that are quite beautiful. The parts the wealthy live in. But that was sure not the part I was living in. My first station in the Sea Organization was on Hollywood Boulevard.

My first real memory of Hollywood was viewing the nightcrawlers. The tacky, ****** prostitutes of both sexes on the corners. The Street Preachers looking only a half step above the subjects of their ardent sermons. I had never had any real encounters with homeless people where I was from. Hollywood was a magnet for them it seemed. Their hair askew, and shopping carts with stuttering wheels de rigueur. The touristas. Japanese with their ubiquitous cameras. The Midwestern jons seeking the hookers (of both sexes). The stars on the Hollywood sidewalks seemed to have fallen from the smoggy sky, to lie tarnished amongst the refuse, inanimate and human. It was like a sledge to the chest... and broke my HEART.

I was given some worn, old-smelling sheets, and the address of the place I was to be sleeping for the next few weeks. It turned out to be a flop-house. At first I thought there had been a mistake. But I was not the only SO member to be entering. I went to my room... so small you had to go out into the hall to change your mind. The toilets were communal and up the hallway. My sleeping arrangement? A twin-style matress on the floor. No other "furniture" graced the room....

... **WELCOME TO *"CHURCH".

... to my Hello Poetry friends...

This is my third post of
Loving thanks.

Perhaps in time i will come back...

Svere G Holter
Poetic T
mark cleavenger
Impeccable Space
Sjr1000
Mayas
Pamela Rae
Marguerite

I'm in much physical and mental and emotional pain right now.  Please pray for me... and another prayer for my parents and another special someone

THANKS FOR ALL YOU SHARED WITH ME... YOU WILL BE MISSED.

Love
Catherine

Do I need permission
To just simply...

... BE?


I need each and every
One else to be OK...

... With ME.


I don't need a permit to live...

... you'll agree!


I'm cutting the strings.

I set myself FREE.


Soul Survivor

of wolves through their own pores,
Those who've heard the whispering
of hell behind closed doors.
Those who've tried their mettle
with a blacksmith's blows,
Those who've climbed a thorny trellis
just to find a single rose...

You may have to climb a mountain
10,000 feet tall
And even then the haters hate
and make you feel small
You may have to dig six feet
to find comfort at all...

But there's a solid surface
beneath the muck & mire,
There's a conflagration...
Yes! There is a fire!
Though all seems hopeless
Though it all seems dire
If you ache, it's yours to take
should you so desire...

Though it all seems worthless
a crust of filthy dross
He'll take your hand
You'll understand

The way of the Cross


SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/29/2016

Dungeons and Dragons

The world of my childhood
Was so bleak as to be
Untenable. There *were good
Times, yes. These were as
Gems set in clay. A black
Muck that oozed from the
Dungeon of despair.

I was so demonstrative
In my need for acceptance
And love the other children,
As kids do, smelled the
Blood in the water. And,
As children do, they attacked.
I was dog meat. Which
Made me all the more
Vicious toward my poor
Baby brother. Which
Made me feel more
Guilty. And so went the
Spiral of despair. Finally
I found the "cure" for
My angst. Fantasy.

I have no idea how
To even begin to tell
You about my fantasies.
I began to rock myself
To sleep at a very young
Age. A self-comforting
Action I acquired from
Babyhood. I also bounced.
On our springy couch, I'd
Rock myself back & forth
So as to bounce myself
From the back of it. I'd
Listen to music while
Doing this, and fantasize
Of being in lands beyond
My ability to describe here.
It would be too time
Consuming. But I was
Heroine of my
Daydreams. Beautiful.
Wise. Immortal. Like
One of JRR Tolkien's
Elves. I loved his books.
I devoured fantasy
Stories. And absolutely
Loved dragons.
I started drawing
Painting at a very young
Age. And the dragon was
My greatest source of
Inspiration. He was the
Catalyst which brought
The fantastic brew to life...

...and nearly destroyed me.

There's an upside to all
This, folks. The dragon is
Satan. He's the author
All addiction, pain and.
Suffering on earth.

Well. I know his secrets.
And I aim to expose them

One... by... *ONE!*


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/27/2017

HELP PEOPLE

Share your story.
Share your strife.
Share a poem.
Save a life.

CHALLENGE

If you have overcome an obstacle
If you have witnessed a miracle
If you were blue
and didn't know what to do
but have yet reached out
and found that someone helped

ALL UPLIFTING STORIES!**

Please write about the
good in this cruel world.


♥ Catherine

The Moon Man sat
Upon a branch
Fat and jolly
Strong and staunch
Just sat there
Broke out his lunch
Put his banjo
On his haunch...

Began to strum
A happy tune
I asked my favorite,
"Clair de Lune"
He said he'd play it
And we'd spoon
It's gonna be
So HOT in June
The heat is comin'
Comin' soon...

He rested there
upon that limb
The cats played sax
Upon a whim
They were right
In tune with him
The Star-fish
Began to swim!

The Moon Man played
The crickets sang
Through the night
The music rang!
We had such fun!
The drums would bang
The tympany
Made beat and clang...

Then he got up
His full height
He made his exit
To the right
Flew off that branch
Into the night
now the fireflies
Hold his light!


SøułSurvivør
(C) 5/18/2017

A tale of Scientology and the
Mental Health System

I'm going to tell a tragic tale
A writ of pain and woe.
I've been to places, reader,
Where folk seldom go.
I'm "insane", I will confess
The "doctors" told me so
But I have art
and HAVE a HEART
This I intend to *SHOW

I am *going to write this

BECAUSE FOLKS NEED TO KNOW!!!

... or, who took the MAN out?

Who took the MAN out of romance?
Who plucked the peacock of quill?
Was it a private performance?
Was it by sheer force of will?

Who took the MAN out of manners?
Did it take magical powers?
Who threw in the nails and spanners?
Perhaps they emulate ours.

Who took the FEM out of feminine?
Was it a trial? A test?
Is it SO cool to be masculine?
***inine's what we have left!

Do we all need to lose gender?
Do all the answers lie there?
Should we all be as the blenders?
Is that decree really fair?

I'm for the lady. The gentleman.
SORRY. It's been building a while.
I just came to air out the sentiment
I love the ol' fashion styles!

Who took the MAN from romantic?
I'm guessing. It's only a hunch.
It may be the one who's got plastic
And insists upon

BUYING HER LUNCH!


SoulSurvivor
(C) 12/29/2015
All rights protected

You put on your makeup
And your plastic face
Your big wide smile
And your social grace
You gaze out at your
Penthouse view
You're primed and ready
It's all about you
As you don your full length mink
You look in the mirror
And tip a wink
You're Gucci dressed
And designer shod

Don't you know beauty
is an inside job?

Downstairs waits your limousine
Goin' to Tavern on the Green
You meet your hubby
Do what's "right"
You'll meet your boy toy
Late tonight
You order dinner
Such style! Such class!
Only the best wine
For your glass
Your "friends" all love you
You hobnob

Don't you know beauty
is an inside job?

You exit the restaurant
To go to a show
Hottest ticket
Don't you know
Your hubby smiles
'Cuz you're on his arm
You're the classiest dame in town!

A homeless woman asks for a dime
You say get a watch to determine the time
You've given to charity
Such a snob

Don't you know beauty
is an inside job?

The beggar woman asks again
Your rich hubby starts to grin
"Gave at the office" He says with a laugh
You cut her off as she tries to pass
"Get a job" is what you say
She won't eat at ALL today...
She won't see a Broadway show
Heck! She has no place to go!
You smile smugly.
You hear her sob...

Don't you know beauty
is an inside job?

The beggar dies out in the cold
You're laid out, too, in a coffin of gold
She is comforted. You're bereft.
She goes to the right. You go to the left.
There's no respect of persons with God.

Because to Him BEAUTY IS AN INSIDE JOB.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 2013
Rewritten (c) 2/26/2016

A Story of Scientology and the
Mental Health System Connection

THE CAUSEWAY

By the time I got to Tampa Florida I was so weary that I was stumbling off my feet. I hadn't had any proper sleep in 4 days. My bones felt as if they had eaten a cancer. I can't remember sitting and waiting for motor pool to pick me up from the bus station. I must have been sleeping on my bags. Not that there were that many of them. I had very little clothing or toiletries. In fact I believe all that I owned was in one tiny suitcase and a carry-on duffle.

I don't remember the name of the man who picked me up that day. We'll just call him Noah. And the white van that traversed the Courtney Campbell Causeway carrying State Road 60 from Tampa to Clearwater? We'll just call that The Ark. Because we were about to meet a *deluge...

The first part of the trip I was nervous. It was raining and extremely windy. I remember asking Noah if we could wait for the storm to pass. He told me that he was under orders to get me to the Fort Harrison within a certain time frame. He would meet those orders come hell or high water. He didn't actually say that but that is what he meant. And that, my friends, is what we got!

The first part of the causeway appeared to be wide. It had palm trees on either side and some greenery. But at a certain point all it was was some roadway perched upon pylons. The engineers had started construction of the causeway in 1927. It was a total of 52,165' long. And, brother, I was feeling EVERY INCH!!!

The wind was blowing so hard that the rain was almost at a horizontal slant. The waves worse. They were spilling over the roadway and frothing. There was no one on the road of course. Nobody else would have been crazy enough to go out in that storm over that Causeway. But Noah had his orders, by God. And he was going to carry them out. That's how brainwashed and insane some scientologists are. Especially in the Sea Organization. Failure to follow "Command Intention" could be seen as grounds for the RPF. More on that horror later.

Well. I remembered Elsie. How she said the Lord Jesus Christ answered prayer. She'd told me that if you confessed your sins with a pure & contrite heart and asked anything of him, he would grant them. That's just what I did. I recall closing my eyes and talking to a man. I didn't know Him. But I told him I was sorry. And if he'd just get us to our destination safely I promised I'd try to be a better person...

Noah was terrified. I can still see his face locked in a rictus of fear. But now I felt strangely calm. Even when we hydroplaned over the asphalt I wasn't afraid. Finally we arrived at the end of that terrifying strip of water and wind. I don't recall exactly. But I believe Noah stopped the van and wept. For the first time in my life I thanked God. I recognized the event for what it was... A PURE MIRACLE.

*AND I WILL ALWAYS REMEMBER IT AS SUCH.