Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aahoc Nov 2020
This is not what He intended

For hearts to be



And then...


To live this way

This is not what He intended
Brooke Olthouse Mar 2019
Let me sensually
Visually paint
      What I believe is our fate
     From the love we make
I feel myself shake
Again at heavens gait
My soul you do wake
And my heart you rightfully take
Kellin Sep 2018
must be nice to have that kind
of unshakable belief
in  a merciful higher power.

i believe in a higher power,
but you can’t call
it merciful. no, not at all.

it’s the power of my father, all
will and rules and law,
and governed himself by

Deadly sins, chief among them
avarice and lust.
the only two that don’t apply

are sloth and gluttony. that last
one i lay claim to, and
before i go to work, i plan on

giving into it wholeheartedly.
Gluttony interrupted
leads to Gluttony, with a capital G.
Jack S May 2018
How come one can pass through a day believing that he has at least seen and achieved mediocre happiness to arrive home and realize his sadness?
A sadness of sorts. Not really sad. More lonely
Though he is self-driven (something his parents and piano teacher are quite proud of)
And yet?
Yet he cannot find fulfillment.
He brinks on the edge of smart individual to scaling the wall of genius
He attempts all things at his disposal and excels to the top of his pond only to look over the edge and see the vast ocean of bigger and better fish
His self-motivation pushes him to yearn for the ocean, the means for his fruition
Even if he was to reach the ocean, gain some weight and eventually become the biggest fish of his kind his satisfaction would not be present
The self-motivational man is plagued by eternal shortcomings in the fields of self-satisfaction and self-love
He holds no value for the compliments and praises that he receives from his loving parents
The love displayed toward him do not present an argument valid enough to convince his deductive mind that he is worthy of self-love
His scars become trophies and his trophies a pile of garbage.
His greatest sadness is that he sees a way to fulfillment
Just before him
He could reach-out-and-touch-it should he try
He wants nothing more than to stretch his hand forward and accept the path to love: the path to happiness: the path to satisfaction
And yet?
He cannot bring himself to grab it.
He reaches his hand forward again and again. The ethereal means within his grasp. And yet he cannot take hold.
He cannot hold it because this power before him is greater than him
Everything he has done so far has been done by him and now he must sit back and receive the ethereal grace?
He must surrender
He must not be driven by himself but instead a higher power and although he recognizes the authority of the higher power he does not submit to it
He yearns to be in its presence
And yet?
He cannot surrender for to surrender to it is to deny everything he has ever known.
To accept its grace he must be made new
He must be born again
Until he surrenders entirely (most likely in a long time for the self-driven man is stubborn) he shall experience the lonely dissatisfaction which already plagues him
Until he surrenders entirely his happiness will only be mediocre and fleeting
Disappearing as he walks through his front door and even more intense during the minutes of isolation that he showers each night
And so he passes through life master of nothing, poisoned, for he cannot deny who he is to accept an antidote which he knows is supreme.
Thomas Mar 2018
When you're always grasping
For control
You're to occupied
To see the beauty
In order to truly be in control
Become the passenger
The view is more rewarding
Stop and smell the roses is more than a cliche...
Thomas Feb 2018
Reached the bottom
Nowhere further to dig

Had no answers
Something beyond  "I"
The answers are to big

Releave this ******* of self
Reliquish control to life's gig
      Turn it over

Past's dark doors opened
With the courage to face
What demons that may trig
     Fearless inventory

In the presence of the triology
Purge your ***** laundry
Freeing yourself of burdens
     Admitted wrongs

Come a point
Where these shackles
You no longer need
    Ready to remove

At foot of bed
Bend down and plead
To that beyond the "I"
To remove all that makes you bleed
     Humbly ask

Gather the names of those
Caught in your wake
    Made a list

To them give back
What wasn't yours to take

With burden shed
Self removed
Feel the peace that you've never knew
     Conscious contact

With gift in hand
Tale in tow
Go and share all you know
      Carry the message
Denise Nov 2017

Before I knew you as Divine woman, I longed for your presence, In time i knew nothing could break our bond…

but that was before I knew you,

I know you now, and time is of the essence I was right all along, you indeed are my true sister. My confidant. I call you of four souls highly blessed due to their grandfather's highly respected works through preaching the gospel humbly,
truly one of a kind, everyone loves their grandparents and deem them special. and I am no different,
To have known my grandfather Neo Garvin, is to have known what it means to be touched by an angel,
He and My grandmother(still young and beautiful as ever) chose to choose one another until death bid them ado,
The reaper comes to collect the souls of the ******,
God comes and gets his children, he sends special hands to aid in the process, he is always with me that i know is certain, unlike any other thing in this world, with every theory, every question,problem and solution is a percentage of dis-trust in it..
conflicting irony they call it,
how can you dis-trust and love, they are opposite.
we are made in God's image, we are made in the image of LOVE, does that mean perfection is granted to all those who are believers?
depending on how you see life ,
the pitcher there, do you see it as half empty or half full
what about your gratitude towards your parents how do you see that glass?
Would seeing the glass as half full when you believe it is in fact as empty as a sponged, squeezed?
just give it a  paradoxical shrug, these kinds of situations are difficult, but normal, bound to happen right?
God chose belief in my ordanement , redeemed aren't I ?
Redeemed until validated my the ticket holder of my life and heart, the judge of my doings, the criticism I openly accept, as long as it's through verbal or small practical eveyday spiritual acts . I accept that I am chosen for his kingdom, that his love has an actual warmth, sitting in a melting *** of the fireplace infused with the cold air knocking, like an unwelcomed visitor .
The irony sets in
we'd all had a good laugh at that, we'd laugh so hard and got it all on camera, I think we'd have a shot and one of those zestful family movies, we'd at least get a premiere on abc channel  and its got just enough of a zoetiec vibe for lifetime.
the dictionary's failed attempt at defining the depth and the vague imprint it left on my brain, torturing me to awaken from my cocoon and speak,
for my ancestors and the divine woman that is Deidra, Thee divine woman(along with the help of the divine masculine) who taught me to open my mouth if you've got something to say,
Who knew that those words were seeds!?
I studied her as she sewed them everyday religiously, even on the rainy days when life seemed to be in the midst of hurricane force winds, she watered that garden the best she knew how and to me it is perfection.I'd try to convince her not to worry about my garden so much that she'd forget to have her flowers bloom
The divine woman a natural incubator , genetically undeniable that we are the divinity this world needs. She knew of my reaping harvest and that it would grow to be my inner voice, that is love.I am wise
you know what zoetic means to me?
zoetic is the slashes against my back until the age of seventeen, i think zoetic are the beautiful dressings that hold us
capture us, in fear of  running off into something so beautifully damaged people might -pay more attention to the clown than the performance.
one of those and even the "non spitiual people",
what right did i have to be set apart from the world
an evolving theory that grows only in fondness and size of it's essence,
only air , unparalleled
you dare not have a speck of shame you, look in the mirror if you'd like but careful not to interfere with his creation, or its is a matter of time before your left like ...
adam and eve...
to have that privilege, to my mother

I imagined what our past-times would resemble, that you’d vacate my soul with a message, in times, I need, remember.

maybe it would be poetic, or wise in hindsight, something that’d force my mind to clear the mess in the backseat to make room for a new shotgun rider

an inquiry you leave me with daily, as our hands unmesh and I drift off into sleep, that is the only time you leave, and quickly appear as i awake, without you, How could i face the day?

A stone immortal you are, with no works of erosion, to seep through your cracks, your spirit un-touched, you are the concrete to my heart, unfinished knicks and knacks. i’d never put  youdown, divine in me tells me “reach for your crown, it’s time we take a break, I’ll never leave you but it is now my time, to clear the backseat and make way.”.

as i watch her tidy up the backseat moving chaos and fear into the far right corner, she hops in the back and sits where I can see her,

navigating me, acting as an GPS, divine in me I trust in nothing less.
Aaron LaLux Apr 2017
I don’t have time,
always in a rush,
I speak up I don’t sit down,
I speak loud but nobody says “Hush.”,

instead of “Quiet down”,
they say “Don’t give up.”,


this Word Play is insane,
the Gift of Gab is real,
‘Make You Feel That Way’,
2002 Blazing Arrow,

that’s another reference,
quadruple entendre references,
people say “Your really talented.”,
but I usually don’t take those comments as compliments,

I don’t write this stuff anyways,
my Ghost Writer is a Higher Power,
my Ghost Writer is Higher Power,
I am a Higher Power,
I am Higher Power,

let that,
marinate for a minute,
in the,
Melting *** of America,
see with,
the Truth there’s no need for gimmicks,
when it’s,
entertaining enough just to live it,
we live it,
in a rush I don’t sit down I speak up,
can’t stay sitting’,
I speak loud but nobody says “Hush.”...
a force so fierce that I have no defense
my rushing thousand thoughts makes me tense
convulsing into delusion  and madness
overtaken by unending sadness

how can love that used to make me high
now make my whole soul sigh
into the breach i plunge unknown
and all my front is blown

i stand naked and trembling
still my mind is rumbling
my only hope and solution comes deep inside of me
a loving Higher Power that helps me simply be
Stream of consciousness.
Next page