Get me out of this mind control
Spark lights the fire and takes a big toll

Tears slide with utter regret
Knowing the consequences I am not quite set

One must be patient about ADHD
Creativity swirls inside leading to a non-finished Ph.D

Everyday has its ups and downs
Burst the mood and smiles turn into frowns

Love life is already a disaster in the making
One thing I despise is a person who keeps faking

Appreciate my honesty down to the core
For I can crumple if left on the floor

Words may not seem like a big deal to you
A brain suffocated by words portrays a picture I once drew

Make me smile and I will laugh in ecstasy
Make me frown and I will self-hurt recklessly

A gift to feel so deeply to connect with One
A curse to have as my hands create a fake gun

Doctors call it a mental disorder
I call it an endless cassette recorder

I cry for help by acting out
People don't understand how it goes all about

We must help sustain a safe environment to help the situation
Understand that it really just is a lack of focused concentration

Luxury is nothing
By the time
When you gather wealth
With all your strength
You could've helped the poor
Step forward for the better one
Ignite the light of wisdom
And listen to the wise ones

Have we gone so far?
We reached to the stars
We learned the galaxies
Soon will reach another world
Replace the wealth from here
Coz we believe, on the other side
We could live without trouble
But everything will be
Over soon, leaving nothing
But your deeds and wisdom

his writing caught everyone’s attention
like an artist i once saw on the street in québec
he stood out amongst the crowd in montréal
i asked to take his picture
he obliged

this writer is also canadian
and paints masterpieces
with words

his colorful lines sometimes float on jagged edges
brushes of sticky sugar coating are exchanged
for starker strokes of reality
tinged with weathered wisdom
creating shadows in his work
accentuating the light

there’s not a write of his
that does not stir emotions
his words linger
rolling around in your head
bumping into each other
morphing into new connotations
his easel alive

you wonder if he did that on purpose?
could anyone have that kind of talent?
yes…..his brush continues flowing
even after the paint is dry

suddenly at midnight i awaken
and hear another morsel
a word, a phrase, a color
that only made itself known
in the dark of night

understanding he's a favorite
i imagined audibly hearing a collective sigh
when he contracted cancer
would he now leave his canvas dry?

no, this courageous artist
bravely took his palette
and continued painting
his words that us awaken
now e’vn more radiant
with tragedy astride

and ‘tho he talks of dying
i pray that he will stay
but should his spirit fly
we have seen a master show us
how to walk into the light

©2016janetaylorhardy

My suede shoes are green.
Well, no, they're forest.
My, how the sky is blue.
More cloudy and teale.
The Church is corrupt.
Their message isn't.
The educated egot.
I've been called
Egit, stupid, idiot,
And codface
(try to find a definition for that).
Not proud of those nomenclatures,
But at times they fit me like cells.
But when I come across the Midvale gifted,
Who try to convince me that
East Indians are West Indians,
Well,
I remove my simpleton's conical cap.

I love to make him groan
His soft sighs, his moan
As my fingers trace the line down his chest
Temporarily stoping just short, I let my hand rest
As we passionately kiss, lips locked in a long embrace
I kiss down his chin and follow the trail my fingers have traced
Then every so gently I go down
Making his eyes roll around
It slowly intensify till his moans become liquid
He caresses my head up and says "girl your gifted"

Prayer For Called and Gifted

Jesus you are the savior of the world author of salvation and creator of the universe and all good things. We are so small and frail and yet in your goodness you saw it fit to give us so much and to raise us up to more than we can be. You bestowed on your people different, beautiful gifts and call us to use them for others and for you. You have called us each by name and given us unique gifts, each with an integral part to play. You have given us a purpose and a reason. You have given us a passion for life. We are called to be beacons of hope, bearers of light. As wheat only produces fruit once it dies, may we also die to the things that hold us back from experiencing the fullness of your love for us. Help us Lord to be good stewards of the gifts you give so abundantly and so freely that we would be diligent, responsible, and humble as we try to live your love out in the world. You said to your apostles: "Go forth and make disciples of all nations; proclaiming the gospel by your lives and baptizing them in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit". Lord, bless the people in this room; send your Holy Spirit and let it come to rest in our souls. Guide and lead and teach us along the journey of life to use our gifts that you gave us "for the greater glory of God". Just as we pray for ourselves Lord, we also pray for all those in the church and throughout the world that you would help them realize and utilize what they have been given to make this world a little better and to further your kingdom right here and now. May we all be a "blessing for life and a blessing for Christ"! We ask this and all things in your most beautiful and precious name. AMEN.

Trembling with every thought of him
I ache a love I can never achieve
I hold my emotions captive in this dreadful tin
I mean no harm, I just love, will it **** you to believe?

I’m not trying to take him from you
My heart is red and not blue
He’s something completely out of my reach
His heart is extremely difficult to breach,
you’re the only gifted one here
don’t worry it’s not that difficult to bear
or maybe it just is...

I have but accepted my place
within the zones of friendship
I've only suffered from a fallen grace
and a heart which has been ripped
But who cares about the shattered love
Maybe it’s just the one above
God Almighty,
I shall never doubt thee
For he knows best

Come to think of it,
What have I lost?
Nothing to be exact
It is he who lost something
something real and true;
my love that is.

-fir.m

Love, what is it?
Is love a post card? Is love a fast food workers smile?
Is love a diamond ring? Is love being famous for miles and miles?
Is love candy on the counter? A dozen thorn-less roses?
Is love the camera for which everyone poses?
Is love owning a car and working all day?
Is love a pack of cards and a slot machine to play?

But what is it?*
Or why don't we all admit it, love is being the
Person who will stick with you even if you're gay,
Even if you have no technology, or you're only creatively gifted,
Maybe even a little eccentric, or not quite religiously inclined,
Love is what the honest heart, the birds and the bees,
What natural affection always had in mind.