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Behold the Man who goes to see
The New Creation then set free
The place no sins or sorrows grow
The Promised Land to come aglow

Oh flee the gates of Babylon!
The ***** who feeds on her own spawn...
May Zion be your heav’nly home
The City where true lovers roam

God created the blossoming flowers and trees,
Every little wild birds and bees,
All beautiful beyond compare,
Makes one want to just stare,
Better yet God created, the endless skies and deep blue seas.

So when you see the bees on the lovely flower,
I wish, you remember God's power,
Because just by uttering words he created the earth
And men who could give birth,
Thus, to make his creation flourish, the heavens would always shower.
God's creation is truly beautiful
sanchit mehta May 22
this pressure to do something great,
its not something other people create,
its one's heart that craves for feeling victory.
This crave makes us do nasty things,
its really creepy.
why cant we control it, ever thought about that,
well its simple! no person in the world,
would like to create no impression of itself on this earth,
a common man follows same routine, breakfast, night in.
but my mind doesnt want that, yours shouldnt too,
this monotonous life is nothing but a disaster,
we should find our ability and remember everybody has one,
just try and master, a mediocre never prevails, prevails is the king,
just give this a thought, just think.
i am writing this as i am literally bored of this monotonous life,,it really seems like waste,,,,poems are the one thhing that calms me! do like and follow me! plsss
Poetic T May 20
All wording not overly conveyed,
              I'm no dictionary.

My pen is my shield and my words
             my armour.

Sometimes dented, ridiculed,
            so not as lustrous as your

vocabulary giving,

but every symbolism
          I give in jest.

I can be a clown, watch my words prance on
              the page in fruitful

colouring of metaphor.

But other times I'm in the size seven
of another's outlook not my own,
emotion grazing my subconscious.

         For that fraction of eternity I'm them, you
I live there fears,  hopes wishes that die after I put the
                                                                ­             pen down.

Don't judge a piece of paper that has nothing on it,
           for will have a doodle, a thought..

A drawing of emotion entwined within its fabric.

   But you just ridicule, turn the page not knowing
                     the pain or joyful happiness
that went to create this...

Yes its not in your taste, but its there's, mine.

Were just artists of our own little world,
             and if you happen to land here.

Please be green..

   Recycle what you think,
and be positive,
    really do reflect on what others foresee.
I be creator May 19
not desire
to tell the world
how it should be

a world
in your own eye

and look through it
Nolan Willett May 18
Truth is found when one can
Reconcile the irreconcilable
That’s why it’s so elusive
And Illusive
Because you can’t,not completely,
At least not humanity,
Paradoxes obscure, but also vindicate,
The all
And everything.
And creation is a scientist
And we are its Petri dish,
And creation is a mystic,
And we are its parish.
Science the soul
Poetic T May 17
If we were the mirror of our creation
                and not made in perfect silhouettes.

Then we aren't the creation of perfection,
                           as were flawed beyond our sell by date.

Then that which made us is imperfect in its design.
                  So not omnipotent,
  flawed in its own blueprint.

And so just another pebble in
A dry pond where wishes die.
One hundred eons from now,
when they vacuum our atoms,
and pull all the suns down,
the dust, like comets,
will flow, but settle,
against my heart,
in caged, cold metal.

The mother ship behind me,
in eternal journey, consumes all
in search of the key.

Yet it does not know your face,
in this limited light spectrum,
best nor do I, for keeping it safe.
For true affection,
you need not chase;
you were born in perfection,
everlasting grace.

In this short life,
we know only our flesh,
in all waking hours,
running circles, at best
and call this success..

Once it all begins again,
and the walls go up,
carved in stone-like strength,
to protect precious time,
man's greatest construct,
I'll tell the gods you're mine,
and they'll beam you back up.

On and on it goes,
until we prove our worth.
I'd go round and round,
in perpetual millennia ,
until your soul gives birth.
The right ONE is worth more than so many mistakes.
Carlo C Gomez May 10
X & Y
Love chimes

Vectors of heredity
The strong staining
Of dyes

Sisters really
One the original
One the copy
It's all in the packaging

An extraordinary feat of engineering

They form books
They tell stories
But no author?

Come build with me
The gift of eternity
"Your eyes saw even the embryo of me, and in your book all its parts were down in writing, as regards the days when they were formed and there was not yet one among them.” -- Psalm 139:16
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