Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Correctly speaking...

We do not call an animal "it".

We do not call a baby "it".

We do not call he or she "it."

We do not call ourselves "it."

And what is most strangely odd to me, is that...
"correctly" speaking:

We do not call [G/g]od "it".

--

We call [G/god] "he".

He.

When we absolutely know what "he" means in the English language;
it means that the object being represented by the word is in fact, a male.

But even to call [G/god] "she" would not satisfy the feminist in me.
For "she" would refer to [G/god] as a female, of course.

How are we to identify someone or something to contain a *** and gender,
when we have no evidence or implications whatsoever of this speculation?

The Bible states He, His, and Him, repeatedly, no doubt,
but this lack of reference was the only known outlet to Scribes.

The capitalization [G], as to give [G/god] a name -- humanization & personalization,
but this is more of a veil to shield our own humane needs,
because in observation, it appears that this given Name
was given to help our immediate understanding of the subject;
an identifier.

Of course, everything should have an identity;
that is what a noun is, after all.

If it has a voice, and words, and advice,
it must be a person.. We say.
If it can teach and listen and punish,
it must be a species, a being.

Well, indeed, it is. But not in the way you and I  
normally think of this notion.

And should [G/god] be a proper noun? Well, of course..
It is almighty!
(Notice the "it".)

So, God.

Just like other proper nouns, it is the name of a name within a name.
Ocelot, for example, is a cat within the noun "cat".

BUT

God stands alone... It is no noun within a noun.

Or is IT?

"God is a chariot" -- stated many places. "He flows throughout all, within all."
(There's that "he" again..)

It is true! God is a chariot!
God is in me, and in you;
it is in everything;
it makes everything;
it breaks everything;
it is.

You are,
for it flows in you and is a part of you.
And if you exude this piece of your soul,
it will be obvious that God is no he, nor a she,
but it is something inside, waiting to be shown.

It is something to be seen physically-- through action and care--through art and stare.
Anything imaginable, God is in it,
which if I look back at this text and think correctly, you are in it.

You are everything,
because you are a part of everything,
because you ARE God;
You are the creator of your world,
and the eyes of how you see it;
As am I.
So start acting like it,
because everything is an extension of your inner-self.

This is a thing that should not be looked over,
and should not be considered above you,
although it is a higher power,
it is a power within you, that you can achieve.
Nothing worth achieving is low;
you must rise up.

Be godly.
 Jan 2014 Scot Powers
Julia
I write the endings first. The plot. The
destination-- but it changes
at some point in the middle.
After all, how could I
know where my writing
is headed when
I don't know
who I
am?
 Jan 2014 Scot Powers
Sara
Sitting here
Reflecting over my life
All I've ever wanted is to help
Is to make a difference
To lend a hand
To bring a smile where there has not been one.
All I've wanted to do is bring a little light to the darkness
Shine through the darkness that embraces us all
To show that there is hope
To show that you can make it.
To show them my scars and say that the cuts I've received have only made me stronger
To show that at the end of it all you can have the last word

All I want is to make a positive change in someone's life
To make a person smile would be like bringing a little life from the ever fading flower
To make a person laugh when they don't feel as though they can would be like the first rain after a long drought

But as I sit here I wonder if I've done that.
If I have I feel like I haven't done enough...
Two flames
With equal elegance
and surrounding colors,

Wood underneath,
And posterior ashes
Which turned from the fire,

Becoming something else;
Transforming together,
With patient speed

And light that shines
To those surrounding --
Often overlooking

The beauty
Which resides
In the flames at night;

For they are not flames
At all,
But are you and I.
We're at the point of almost melting
Hellish heatwave is most sweltering
All of us getting an absolute baking
Thermostats are all upwardly rising

Abundant solar activity is happening

Skin on our faces akin to pork crackling
Copious amount of water we're drinking
Our sweaty brows are in need of mopping
Relief from the heat we're always seeking
Cool locales like long verandah shading  
Hades is where us folks are now dwelling
Endless hours of excessively high temperatures
Reductions in these would be such a pleasure
 Jan 2014 Scot Powers
Sara
Running
 Jan 2014 Scot Powers
Sara
As the skies darkened with each passing moment
I ran inside
A place to hide
Slammed the door shut
Soon after the pounding began
I stood there braced against the entrance
The door being ripped apart but not being budged
I go to the place where I can get peace of mind
The longer I stand there, the more the pounding ceases to be heard.
Soon it stops
I'm free from the emotions and thoughts chasing after me
Left with a numbness
How can I ever leave this place now?
If I let them in I'll surly be torn apart
If I wish to face them...how do I start?
the sweet fragrance of honeysuckle
did waft on the air
twas a bouquet of beauty
for the lovers to share
they strolled
amid the scent
as eve drew near
and spoke of their love
which would forever endear
neath the moonlight
they caressed
in the honeysuckle's
loveliness
Waiting, sitting patiently
For the days end whistle
Then, I'm gone out to my truck
I'm like a human missle

The final hour of the day
My only thought I'm thinking
is getting gone
And getting out
To go and do some drinking


Boys are waiting
Beers on tap
It's Friday night
The weeks a wrap
Amp the music
Chill the beer
Cue the crowd
The weekend's here

Two beers in
And there she was
I didn't know her
I was at a loss
She asked me nice
To have a dance
I thought here I go
Here is my chance

I can't two step
I can't waltz
It's just that I
was never taught
But at that moment
On the floor
Holding her
I wanted more

Boys are waiting
Beers on tap
It's Friday night
The weeks a wrap
Amp the music
Chill the beer
Cue the crowd
The weekend's here

My buddies said
Let's move along
I told them all
"just one more song"
I wasn't leaving
Not tonight
I'd found my girl
And things were right

We talked and danced
And danced and talked
My dancing,
Still was bad
But at the end
When last call came
To end it made me sad

Boys are waiting
Beers on tap
It's Friday night
The weeks a wrap
Amp the music
Chill the beer
Cue the crowd
The weekend's here

Time flew by
Like it's wont to do
When things are going well
We made a date
To meet again
That's a good sign,
I could tell

I'm waiting for the day to end
I'm waiting for that whistle
I'm heading out, this time to dance
I'm still a human missle
The boys have lost me for a while
I even cut my hair
I think I'll see just where this leads
And I'll be dancing my way there.....
 Jan 2014 Scot Powers
Sara
A lie...
 Jan 2014 Scot Powers
Sara
A lie can be as beautiful as a freshly cut rose
Beautiful and full of appeal
But after Some time the petals once so full color begin to fade...
The rose begins to wilt
And so you begin to ask questions
Suddenly things don't make sense
Suddenly it isn't as beautiful anymore
And so, as with time all things die.
The rose starts to decay
And that's when you begin to say:
You want the truth.
Because the lie holds no beauty and you've come to accept it as it is
And so soon the truth is reveal
we're such a benevolent lot
we give the Welfare set
our hard won dough
they sit on their *****
and do not a thing
while we're out working
for a wage
but our kindnesses
are being exploited
by the dole collectors
those ***** mothers
having broods of kids
and we hand them
our toiling quids
those kids
should be supported
by their daddies
let them get a job
and become
responsible
for their sprog
the Welfare system
is getting plundered
every day
by those who won't
get out and earn their pay
how nice
our honey *** has been
taken for granted
and bled of its generosity
Next page