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Deborah Downes Jan 2019
Maybe I’d be better off alone

I could eat what I want
sleep when I’m weary
go where I will
hang out with whomever
….or not

Allow my muse to rule the day


I could spend my life with you
feeding your consuming need
bearing witness to the pain of your sleepless nights
trying to mend your brokenness, at first tenderly
….then hopelessly

Until my heart and spirit atrophy
adrift without oar or rudder
on the turbulent sea of your emotions

With you, I am bound by love
without you, I am selfishly free
but either way….

I am deeply alone
Deborah Downes Jun 2017
Can God be God
Without His creation?

Would He be Truth
Without the testimony of His Spirit?

Could He be Love
Without the objects of His affection?

Is He Beauty manifested
Without observation?

Can He be the Father
Without the Son?
Deborah Downes Jun 2017
Profoundly alone

Without faith nor friend
Plan nor purpose

Only subsistence

Do I  exist if I cannot see myself thru the eyes of another?
Deborah Downes Apr 2017
Your paradigm of perfection
Is not mine....

I’m the squared round peg
And the squeeze pains me

The house in the ‘burbs was bleak never felt like home

That nine-to-five racket
Bled me like a leech

Bowing to the money god
Twisted my back and brain

Varied brands of religious rectitude
Felt elite and hypocritical

I need to unchain my heart
And embrace who I am

Others’ perceptions of me
Are suffocating my soul

I should follow My Muse
Wherever she leads

Only there will I find
Truth, Love, and Beauty

Only then will I find God
Deborah Downes Apr 2017
Faith believes what the senses belie
Its roots go deep tho the flower is shy

Strongly waxing in impoverishment
Meekly waning in fulfillment

Almighty is Faith’s power
Ever gentle, but never cowers

Binding humanity to our Creator
Loosening the chains of the destroyer

Though often flawed in its conception
Faith elicits near perfection

Though smaller than a mustard seed
One's greatest hopes it may exceed

Dreams become reality in its presence
While reality turns to nightmare in its absence

Faith is a mystery I choose not to ponder
But rather prefer to bask in its wonder.
Deborah Downes Apr 2017
He walked along the garden path
cloaked in silent beauty
tho His soul screamed out in agony
as He struggled with His duty

Too soon would time arrest Him
and assault His mortal bones
stripping Him of dignity
to leave Him so alone

He stood before the judges
who questioned what He taught
jeered by crowds of skeptics
for the miracles He wrought

Soldiers cruelly flogged Him
with words and leaded lash
till His wounds were sorely bloodied
and His Spirit nearly dashed

With razored thorns they crowned Him
pressed roughly to His head
to mock his royal status
yet not a word He said

Upon His back they laid a cross
that no mere man could bear
weighted by a world of sin
no more could one man care

Every step toward Calvary
was afflicted with such pain
though each was taken willingly
to mankind’s greatest gain

Along the way was little solace
His mother’s tears, most anguished
a woman’s veil, the Cyrene’s hands
His pangs could not extinguish

At last He reached the journey’s end
but relief was not to be
His hands and feet they did impale
to hang Him from that tree

His death laid shadow ‘cross the sky
the ground beneath was shaken
at last they knew God’s only Son
was the one whose life was taken

They thought that death had conquered Him
And His flesh would turn to dust
That His memory would fade away
while His flock would lose their trust

But the Son fulfilled God’s promise
His temple twice erected
Against all human logic
His life was resurrected

On that Blessed Sunday
men born in any age
could now accept salvation
and be freed from sin’s outrage

For all, and for eternity
He duly paid the cost
which guilt and sin does yet incur
so no soul need be lost!
In acknowledgment of the Source of my inspiration, poetic & otherwise.
A most Blessed & Transforming Easter to all!
Deborah Downes Feb 2017
Like so many
they rush to southern climes for
greener pastures
year round golf a
Slower pace
Cheaper prices and
Tropical temperatures

Unnaturally taut and
they crowd the local haunts and
Clog the highways.

At best they tolerate whoever is not
Pensioned or

At worst they ban the
from their gated communities  
and social gatherings

The pendulum has swung from a time
when the Old were at the
Mercy of the Young
to the present
when Youth is
Oppressed by Senescence

Once democracy’s backbone they now wax
Conservative having obtained their
Slice of the pie

Now there is no pie
Mother Earth has been trampled to death and the
Toiling hands of those who
Stoke the fires of industry are
Blistered and discouraged
You don't have to be old in years to belong to this culture; and even if you are old in years, you don't have to adopt this lifestyle.
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