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Ant Feb 25
i dropped my phone
and it cracked.
this just feels like life,
except im in a freefall
waiting to hit the pavement
and shatter,
just like my phone.
I never heard much of love playing in my ear;
as I've never heard David's secret chord to the Lord.
The melodies of affection and adoration never caressed
my ears or resonated within my soul. The sweet symphony
of love's harmonies, like the ethereal hymns sung by angels,
were foreign to my senses.

Sitting beneath the orange hues of a radiant sunset,
I found solace under the sheltering branches of an orange tree.
The soft caress of its delicate leaves brushed against my cheeks,
a gentle reminder of nature's embrace.

It felt as if love itself had taken a bite into the core of my being, leaving me intoxicated with its sweetness.
With every gulp of life, it filled me with an abundance of
emotions, leaving me speechless in its presence.

As I peeled away the layers of my pride, surrendering to
the vulnerability of love, it felt as if my very
skin was shedding, revealing the raw essence of my soul.
Like the strings of a guitar that linger in your mouth after a
heartfelt melody, love entangled my words, weaving
a intricate web of emotions that silenced me in its grasp.
The profundity of love was a force that rendered me
speechless, for words seemed insufficient to express its
depth and magnitude.

Yet, from above, a divine intervention occurred,
painting the sky with a vivid tapestry of orange hues.
It was a visual feast, a breathtaking experience to witness
the perfect alignment of colors and light. Floating amidst
the vastness of the heavens, this celestial swirl of orange
was a testament to the magnitude of love, a display of its
boundless beauty.

Within the ever-rotating circle of this enchanting spectacle,
I discovered an unparalleled love.  An elusive concept in this imperfect world, true and perfect love revealed itself to me.

It was a love beyond human comprehension, a love that
transcended all notions of imperfection.
This divine love, the love of God, illuminated my path
and transformed my perception of what love could truly be.
The sun never rises here, the moon never falls,
despite the nightly intrusion of thoughts
that never seem to expire into the current.

Two birds screech above but I do not listen:
“Our religion is one of love,” they tell me
while they slam the door in my face
to go and vote for a straight man elated
to erase the love I have for nobody but me.

“Church is the only path to Salvation,” he tells me
after a night spent in my hometown bed;
hypocrisy is the root embedded throughout the forest
of Fatherly Love, created only to benefit those
normal enough to write the rules
before anyone else could…
                                                  How convenient.
Our Father makes no mistake
and carefully creates us all,
yet my love is seen as a ******* painted onto
a blank canvas thrown across a rusted floor.

“A genetic error,” say the men who later imagine
the ache of my nails digging deep into
their rugged, tightened backs;
the wedding ring on their finger
refracts the light of the bathroom mirror
as cans of crushed beer pile high
in the trash strewn
on the ground behind them...
                                                  So many frauds.
I live my days on the edge of whitewashed insanity,
yet forever closing my eyes to darkness
is a life I wish not live:
the mothers who birthed us to fade into the grave,
the love they lent evaporating upon expiration,
our fathers who protected us far removed,
their eyes forever closed, their life no more.
I cannot fade into nothing, this I won’t believe…
                                                                                      So hopeless.
The God I love does not punish
those defying the rules He’d always known
would one day be certainly shattered;
He does not make me love men
and sentence me to die in the same command
despite the thousands of hymns I whispered
in the solace of my childhood room.

He does not send men to sleep at night
and force them to question what they feel—
tossing the sour taste into the background,
ignoring the truth of the real me…  
                                                             How cruel.
The God I know made me the way I am
and is proud of me for taking it in stride.

He does not wish to see me change --  
He frowns at the men desiring revenge
on us who wish to be left alone --  
we do not need your opinion,
we do not need your love,
we do not need your thoughts or your prayers,
for the God I love welcomes me with open arms
unlike the multitude of others I no longer remember…
                                                                                          So unimportant.
Humble Poet Jan 3
In moonlit mosques and
sunlit naves, two whispers met,
He, cross upon his palm,
she, crescent on her neck.

A Christian boy, a Muslim girl,
their eyes ablaze,
Love bloomed unseen,
a secret rose in thorny maze.

He spoke of hymns,
of stained glass grace,
of angels' flight,
She whispered tales
of prophets kind,
beneath the desert's night.

His faith a whispered prayer,
her faith a fervent call,
Two tapestries distinct,
yet bound by love's enthrall.

Stolen moments carved from dusk,
by shadowed walls they'd stand,
His hand, a whispered comfort,
hers, a flame within his hand.

Prayers of longing mingled soft,
in languages untold,
Love's silent symphony
defied the faith of old.

But whispers turn to echoes,
secrets etched in sand,
Families with furrowed brows,
pronouncements cold and grand.

"Forbidden threads," they hissed,
"unweave this tapestry of sin!"
Love's fragile bloom must wither,
by hate's cruel wind blown in.

He, torn between the chalice
and the Kaaba's call,
She, bound by ancient scripts,
her heart a tethered thrall.

Their names, like prayers
unspoken, hang upon the air,
A haunting testament to love,
denied and held in snare.

But though walls may rise
and edicts fall,
in hearts a flame remains,
A ember whispering defiance,
through tears and burning pains.

For love like theirs, a phoenix,
from ashes takes its flight,
Soaring beyond the reach of dogma,
bathed in eternal light.

Perhaps in some faraway realm,
where faiths no longer clash,
Their souls will weave anew,
a love unbound by creed or sash.

And in the tapestry of time,
their whispers softly chime,
A hymn of hope,
a testament to love,
defying tide and time.

.
Romeo and Juliet got off easy.
.
Robert Ippaso Dec 2023
Lord show us the way
That we can best celebrate your day,
Should it be fun
For all of us to feel as one?
Or should we be sad
Knowing that we may at times have been a little bad?
May we please drink,
So that into depression we do not now sink,
Aware of course
That too much imbibed turns our chatter into morse.
How about the food,
Or would too much eating be quite rude?
Forget that thought,
As we need consume these lovely things we bought,
Also these folk
Will badly need the victuals for all the
alcohol they soak.
Sorry - now back on track,
Forgive the decorum I so very clearly lack;
But it is a joy
To share this feast with loved ones and on that I shan't be coy,
For while it is your day,
There is one further thing I must now say:
It wouldn't be the same
If we didn't come together in your name.
Thus please forgive any transgression
During what will surely be a long and roudy session,
For we toast but once a year
In the presence of so many we hold dear.
Hence let us raise our glass,
Before yet another Christmas simply pass,
To hail your glorious birth
And such a great excuse for this unbridled mirth.
Odd Odyssey Poet Dec 2023
I'll be in my room comprehending my own life
In between the thoughts of my own dead mind
I'd still find it better to stay high on more life
And if I come up first, I know I'll just finish last
Being stagnant as a prayer of person who won't take a chance
Just to switch up on my own perspective, seeing the first
Shall be last, the last shall be first, I hope I finish like that

More on the latter-er
Even fools try to skip a few steps to Heaven
But we all have to climb the ladder,
Not on these false prophets, men not allowed in God's capital
But tell me what's your real stature, or does nothing really matter
Like you been facing your own battles, but really your just battered

The sin with laughter, a recipe for disaster
While the Devil has an appetite for destruction
You're too busy filling up his plate, serving him like
he was your master

You probably use the salt of your life just give his
bowl extra flavour
And would act surprised when God spits you out
Saying you lost your flavour
You'll probably be crying, claiming God must have his favourite
But what's the favour to a favourite, when we were all created
so different, assigned to a nation
Still you do yourself the favour of debating
Whether or not there's a heaven, whether or not your soul needs saving

We feel it more important to save ourselves on preserving a golden life
Trying to tick what's more important in life on trying to live on the spoils that spoil your mind
And at the end of your life you'll feel the regret of your rhetorical question
Of how there's no golden ticket to Heaven
Isaace Sep 2023
The hour is nigh, my brothers—
We shall come to pass!
The moment is soon, my friends,
When we shall grow weak from the fast!

Do not falter, O rosen-clad wise men of the future and the past!
My Rosicrucian brothers who brandish the Red Rose!
Those who wear thine thorns across thine breast!
Those who wear thine thorns across thine breast!

And so it was said:
“The Black Nourishment found its fruit in the fruit-laden tree which manifested inside The Line.”
And so it seems,
A guiding light shines upon the place where the exalted body of Christian Rosenkreuz lies,
Dust-embalmed.
And we— the initiates— have not forgotten our great master!—
The venerable, most honourable, Christian Rosenkreuz—
Who emerged with us, from the mud, then died.
Twigzy Aug 2023
Come eat of my bread
and drink of my wine.
My love never fails.
I am gentle and kind.
Twigzy Aug 2023
You can have your gold chains
and necklaces of diamonds.
You can ride your white stallions
and drive your Lamborghinis.
You can dance with the stars,
have the favour of all,
but all these things
will not get you near heavens wall.

You say you want to go to heaven?
but that gateway is not open 24/7.
It has no latches,
hinges or lock.
It is not made of steel,
plastic or rock.
The gate is Jesus
who lay down his life,
and for you to enter,
He paid a heavy price.

He died on the cross,
the criminals death.
His body was torn.
His ligaments wrenched.
He was speared in the side.
With His  own blood,
He was drenched.

I am the Christ,
the sacrificed one.
I am Gods only begotten son.
I am the only gateway in.
On that gate is it is written,
“Jesus, the King”.
I find those who seek me.
I turn none away.
Come wash in the water.
With my own blood I paid.

I spoke life into existence.
I displayed myself in creation.
I gave you my words and written formation.
I birthed myself on earth in the flesh.
I ate at your table.
Some of you laid on my chest.

I did this to display my fathers love for you.
But you were stubborn and hard hearted,
and killed me instead.
But I conquered that darkness
and I broke every chain.
I rose from the dead
to lead you through the same.
I then returned to my Fathers side
and sent you my Spirit to save,
heal and guide.

Come follow me,
for I am life.
Full of abundance,
all joy and delight.
Let your ears hear
and let your eye see.
There is no other God beside me.

So don't seek after the favour of men,
or desire the things you hold in your hand.
Your time is short,
so do not delay.
Enter my kingdom
before I return with my Sword.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son that whoever believes in him shall not perish, but have eternal life. John 3:16
Written to a friend 🙏
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