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Ylzm Oct 3
I don't count, for I don't know what counts
A look, a smile, silence, to turn and walk away
What counts is for them for which it matters
Known only at the end when the whole revealed
And I, a new self, rebuilt from all that counted
Of others: their words, presence, absence, or kiss
And we become Others, as Others become Us
The perfection of unity, now, a shadow glimpsed
Your 
Hand shall lead me
Your right hand takes me.
What a promising God He is. 
Come on 
Says the Lord and gently leads me
Walking with God is an
Easy thing which 
I count
Psalm 139:10
I close eyes and count to ten
Take shaky breath of air
Hesitate to open them
Afraid to see you are no longer there
I want to make you happy
Sometimes that seems so tough
Despite golden intentions
Efforts are never enough
Then we build expectations
Late into night
At first both exceed them
Until sparks ignite fight
Yet fire lights lantern
To guide way through the dark
Ecstasy acts as glowing beacon
On weightless journey I embark
Your laughter rings like chords in ear
You got me above clouds so high
Trust earned like a certification
Learning to let hang loose fears you untie
Teaching to speak with a tender tongue
Feeling finer than I have in years
I hope that beneath the surface
Devotion is as deep as it appears
Appreciating your words and savoring
Time we have before it disappears
My boyfriend read this and crossed out the last line and this is what he replaced it with:

I have to kiss your rear
I might be just so right
That we won't have to fight
Don't be scared because we are pretty tight so hear
To see, adventures are limitless as our hearts grow closer near

<3
Abi Winder Aug 23
nineteen years,
238 months,
1,034 weeks,
7,238 days,
of my life.

i can compress my existence
into numbers.
lay them out like statistics.

tell people i am made of days, hours, minutes.

numbers.
they are easy.
finite.
simple.

but will i ever be able to translate my existence in words?

will i ever be able to speak such complexities?
or only count?
Ylzm Aug 12
We count, calculate, compare
If greater, thanks aloud in joy
If lesser, work, fight, beg

A life measured in numbers
Negative, minute, millions
But life begins at infinity

Not a number not a count
Of mind more real than numbers
Ungraspable, priceless, gifted

The work and joy is to know
The fight is to diminish to empty
For the less I am the more I am
Ylzm Aug 1
We count time but don't know what we count
We feel time's flow in the sun, moon, and stars
And see it passed in our flesh and offspring
But without knowledge nor awareness if it is
Forward, backwards, circular, or not at all
Or if a second prior or after, is, shorter, or longer
But only the everlasting, now, past, future, illusionary
And time, the same as times, and so too half a time
Nat Lipstadt Jul 13
From the Prayer of Saint Ignatius of Loyola (see notes)

<>

the phrase grabs my eyelids,
a forced opening,
nay,
a denial of closing,
our most human
and natural
escape hatch


and I wonder…
is it self~slander,
or is it the obverse,
that explores a desire
to enumerate honestly
for what is…is…
let the costs count us!

is that it?

merely
poetry
airy escapery,
what passes
for  t r u t h  in
these dark days?
<>
the damning costs count me
in their number!p
as ******!

<!>

hapless victim of living,
pondering ponderous
divination of saintly
defiant definitions
of ‘greater good’

’tis the difficile,
entre the pill and the
bitter, oh so bitter the herbs,
for it is
so plainly & so hard
to differentiate, et
distinguer mais être distingué(1)
distinguish tween but not to be distinguished

memories that are costs disguised,
reverting as dreams, in the true~alone
hours of the twenty four, when it’s
just you, & fighter and worthy opponent
them costs,
who needs no definition
tolling the steeple bells
of utter anguish,

as you're thre greatest living expert
in these matters,
(le plus personnel)
the sins of action and transaction,
And the worst, those  truly heinous
inactions,
face off in opposition in the boxing ring
<>
and the costs paid, a savage skilled
opponent, intimate of your every trickery,
the bare knuckled brawler, whose knows,
knows! the true tally, the bodies you’ve
buried, the children witnesses to your
creative abominations, lies you tell no
one else, but yourself- every single day!


the urge to cease here
grows stronger by the second,
minutes past and les défenses have risen,
what disclosures revelations bring forgiveness?

this my spotlight,
caught in the headlights,
where fessing up is in reverse,
fessing down to the black bottom,
where ugliness is the normative and
vain attempts at denial offers no escapes
from glutinous disgusting mess of gelled of
nothing but the truth

nah,
you don’t want to know,
what a human can accomplish
in a short seven decades of decadence
and recount constantly the costs of consternation
<>
so I‘ll let you
retreat to the gray masses
all your own where your very
owned
wonderings
are intercepted
for where I go now
willingly, unfailingly,
failing
needing not, requiring not
no company
Teach me to serve as you deserve,
To give and not to count the cost,
To fight and not to heed the wounds,
To labor and not to seek to rest,
To give of my self and not ask for a reward,
Except the reward of knowing that I am doing your will.
http://www.stignatiussacschool.org › ...PDF
St. Ignatius Prayer

SB- threw in some french for you to learn

(1) to distinguish between but to be distinguished
<>
writ, second week
of July 2024
Savio Fonseca Aug 2023
Count the Raindrops,
falling in a Rainstorm.
Count the Leaves,
that are there on a Tree.
Count the Stars,
Up there in Heaven.
Count the Fishes,
Swimming out at Sea.
Take the Happiness,
of the Universe.
and Add them all,
to a Love that never Ends.
Her Heart,
will taste only Laughter
and Her Eyes,
will hold U until the End.
Fianzy Feb 2022
You leave at the gate and I count back from ten as I walk to my door.
I think of you at ten how you show me you love me.
Your hand on my thigh at nine.
At eight how you smile at me.
Our secret handshake at seven.
The six times we drove around the block because I refuse to go home and be without you.
At five how we said and met each halfway in everything we did.
The four times you told me you might be in love.
At three I said those magical words “I love you”.
At two I look back as I almost reach my door.
I look at you one last time as I’m about to close my door, hoping that one day I close my eyes and sleep in our bed.
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