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Oh to untie you
From the straints of adolescence.
To craddle you
Kiss your closed eyes-
Feel the lashes brush my lips
Softly now like down and spring
Sweet like young breath
You would lean in.
But suddenly-
Filled with flame you would grasp
Become the craddle yourself.
Free from those who bind you
Chosing to bind us instead.
In hate or love
It is all the same
We call it adolesence
JJ Hutton Oct 2010
Children,
all of me was all for you,
from towers I commended,
from basement I sympathized,
and god,
how I find all of me,
missing all your adoring stares.

I stood by,
I watched your birth in the garden
all those years ago,
and how your cries floated to heaven,
and how heaven answered with meadowlarks,
I handed you the apple,
I kissed your brow,
you would coo and grasp my coat,
I felt love, you felt vital.

I waged war,
with all the saints and arthouse critics.
We drank their blood by the moon
and our temperate speech
did flow from the fount,
under the table we were,
grew we did,
proper adolesence looking for
classical supremacy.

And Children,
I know the darkness was always creeping,
crippling every satellite, every sandy shoreline,
withering us in mirror,
you asked if the tide could claim us,
I patted your shoulder,
kissed your hand,
there is no enemy capable of victory,
oh, how the prophets betrayed me.

When your compliance was absolute,
when our neighbors pledged allegiance,
when I crushed the throats of Solomon, Gilgamesh, and
the sons of Zeus,
leagues made banners,
few made poison.

I gave you slaves,
girls, and sport.

I gave you a voice,
blankets, and victims.

The crowd and chants,
my pride and concubines,
the grass never faded,
nor the flowers wilted.

Children,
why did the publications turn against me?
I erased the existence of all you wanted dead,
I gave you dreams,
I gave plenty to sup,
plenty to remain drunk,
Children,
why did the prophets lie to me?

The priests carried daggers,
preyed upon me,
prayed for my passing-by,
the stares were there,
empty of adoration,
only hungry for my sacred blood.

I watched seas of my own,
pull down every cast,
my form laid to waste
on the streets I built under your feet.

My royal guards
chained my hands,
I could only stare at my blue veins,
my royal guards,
dragged my feet,
and in the senate they made me watch,
as my record was blotted out.

As the sun set,
the streets were lit
by effigy.

As the sun set,
I found myself in
the garden.

I stood straight,
back to a stake,
all eyes on me,
all shouts for me,
all the rage,
effigy, effigy,
they poured pitch at my feet,
they said prayers and incantations,
the flowers were in full bloom,
and the sound of buzzing flies buried
the cries.

I tried to be a friend to everyone.
Now history's vapor,
I tried to be a friend to everyone.
Copyright Oct. 15, 2010 by J.J. Hutton
Silencer Dec 2018
Through the fog and through the rain
and the midst of my escape
to seek a hope of rescue I await
that though I fell away
I become the master of the energies I once believed could not be tamed

And So I thank you

Thank you, for setting forth instruction, fufillng the indulges of my desire to be taught
In my adolesence
I listen to The Order of Your Word,
carried out through training
adhereing in self-discipline
I now had learned to crawl..
that in the giving of free will, I be given way to step my foot in straight directed forward path, to spread the power of your Love

Thank you, for the Wisdom to know choice
for even though evil ways I crossed
you granted opportunity
to raise me up and walk

Thank you, for the Wisdom that's your Son
Who descended from the heavens to
to guide the way in sacrifice
that our hearts may see the light, never growing cold, to be overshadowed by the darkness, that fades into the night
A Knowing, Through Jesus, The Law Fulfilling Christ
That in Wisdom we come to know the Truth
Truth that set forth Wisdom descended from the heavens to carry out the Truth
A spreading of the seed that through Wisdom you come to know the Truth
That Truth may blossom like the flowers of the field in hopes you be carried out by Wisdom
To the land that fosters only Truth
Truth that is of Wisdom
Because Wisdom is of Truth
Because Wisdome is the truth
Because Wisdom was The Word guided by the Truth
Because Wisdom is The Word Of Truth
In Ascention, to once again unite
The Trinity
The Infinite Divine
Cause the only path To Truth is Wisdom
because only Wisdom knows the Truth
Because Wisdom is the Truth
And Truth resides in Wisdom
Like Wisdom resides in Truth
And To Find Truth You must Find Wisdom
That it takes,
Wisdom to Know Truth

The Truth that is God

Thank you, that my loving you was my absolute and greatest fear
Whether I be right or whether I be wrong
It was in my sinning That I found the Fear of God
doors that led to my refuge
that I may know liberation
offerings he presents, to represent, his representations, of representatives

In that, Rising from submeregence
Thank you,
Blind that unblinded I became
I come to know the penalty,
A life without a cost, without cause
For such name I could not bear to hold
dissenigration of the deepest realms that had been placed,
       For the Angels of the Fall..

            I'm not meant to be here


Secluded in my hiding I find death, and death cannot be bought
To act against in Sins of He whom I Fear  Most Loved,
That I once more come to Thank You,
For it was there, that I was found to find my self dwelling,
        In the Shadows of The Lost
It was fear I Wed, more so did I know it was a custom of the dead
of those who away from love Fled
married to the absence of those unable to return and just like the memory
the sparkle burn a hopelessly, Only for their Spirit to return to from whom they were sent
Emily Nieberding  Jan 2018
eliza
Emily Nieberding Jan 2018
there was something utterly charming
about the way you came to school
every morning at 7:30
wearing a lavendar scarf
from god-knows-where

you were eccentric, to say the least
stirring sugar into your coffee
with a ballpoint pen
and ignoring the margins of the paper
you used for last-minute assignments

but no one cared,
you were proud of you

because of you i learned
who terry pratchett is.
i started wearing ankle socks
because one day i saw you sitting
in an armchair, your legs crossed
and i thought,
"so this is adolesence"

god, you loved poetry too
scribbling microscopic sentences
onto a piece of paper you had folded
about six times into little squares
and i kind of miss how
you would go on about the beauty
of streetlights and pavement

you were a wild thing,
fickle with love
and oh-so argumentative;
you never lost a debate

even though we've grown apart
you burned a mark in my memory
one that i'll never forget,
endearingly quirky eliza
CJ Sutherland Jan 17
Grandmother,
I want to know everything about you.
You’ve had many experiences in your lifetime. The simple life when ice cream was just a dime
From your favorite childhood vacation, to the birth of your first child,
These moments shaped the course of
Your History.

Some events you knew
would change your life,
while others, you didn’t realize
the full impact until years later.
They each played a role
and need to be shared.

For many families,
the younger generations
aren’t interested in their elders,
until it’s too late to ask them.
While Grandma may Think
she has forgotten the stories.
All her sadness, joy and glories.
As They start to pour from Grandma’s heart, she recants so many other tales of woe, She’s been holding for a while
Her secret life  in tow
Grand adventure
A twinkle in her eye
She remembers the days gone by

For others, the stories were told by the children and grandchildren, who forgot the most important intricate details.

Places like Barnes & Noble offer books, such as my grandmother’s life.
Grandma I want to know everything
about you. and many others.
These Books have prompts that helps the writing process. When finished , you will have a complete Bound Book of your life.

Now your documented history can be  handed down through the generations. Your words, your experiences, your story forever remembered.
You could write a journal without buying a book. IF you have the tenacity to finish it.

Write your Journey in Several Chapters,
Each reflecting different
periods of your life.;
Childhood  ,Adolesence, Adulthood,work, Marriage and Parenting , Empty Nesting,  Grandparents. Middle age and Wisdom

Within each section, there are events and
Advice and things you’ve learned. From lighthearted to serious.
You’ll remember the trials and the triumphs, the laughter, the sorrow
  Your details will provide a well rounded view of your life. There is no wrong way
to write your story.

Include as much genealogy as possible
Who is in your family tree?
What, When, Where and Why
What made you laugh?
Who made you cry?
How you handled it all,  the mystery .
These are the Fabrics of your History.

Most Grandparents have
A box full of pictures.
Your Book could be A Story
about each of those pictures.
Write them down less you forget,
and your legacy Lost forever.

If Grandma cannot write, perhaps a family member can write her story down while grandma tells it.
A bonding moment
that will never be forgotten.
A tape recorder is another option.
Then you have Grandma‘s voice as well..

This can be your
New Year’s Resolution
You always had a solution,
and when you’re gone,
Your storywill live On

Postscript (PS)
This is not just for grandma, grandpa.
In fact it’s for all of you. I started writing a journal at the age of 12
I have 90+ journals to date, and a complete story spanning 50+ years.not only of myself, but all of those around me.
my eight brothers and sisters and my parents. Noble house wants first look when completed , but told me I had to change the names of everybody to protect the guilty and we’re all guilty ( Plus, nobody would sign off if it puts them in a negative light) That’s not what my goal. To publish for Publish sake. It’s for my family. Who, like most families have moved away plus they’re all in their own little bubble life. Honestly, I don’t really know any of them anymore. Yes we talk we spend time together but as we get older, family members lose the intimacy.( well, unless perhaps (sisters)
Journaling saved my life in  many ways. Well ,all the ways a person can be saved.
Poets can copy their work off of this site, compile it into their own book. Whether they publish or not, it shows progression of time, and is also a journey of life. Forever bound in your own book. As a testament to what you thought, most importantly, that you were
alive and the voice of your generation

— The End —