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Igor Goldkind Feb 27
The measure of suffering is how distant you are from your own happiness.
There is no distance farther than that.
It’s a gap people carry around with them, sometimes oddly, with pride:
‘Look how long-suffering, look how hard working,
Look how good doing I am.’
Small wonder we’re exhausted all of the time.

Because there’s the whole of our lives to account for, to ourselves,
To the you who is listening to this.
Sure, it’s your hole and you’ll sink in it if you want to
But to me, it’s just another drain pipe, a wound for life to drip out of
Everyone can see right through you
Until you find a way to plug that hole yourself.
//yoo-ni-verss//
Noun:

I. You are a wonder wrapped in a miracle. Every ebony gasp breeds holiness. Every tincture of time that you hold bursts into purple midnights. Every bright escape another release of your cosmic breath.

II. You rule with satin clouds and shining rain. Your every movement shakes time.

III. You know your greatest magic and will forever prove it to those who rest beneath your raven sky. You are power and grace entwined, you hold on your hands an eternity, and you fully know it's wretched destiny.
I'm trying one of these definition poem thingies. How'd I do?
Jo Swan Nov 2018
In my dreams,
I see a Prince,
His eyes gently glint.
Has his Holiness come?
I cry to him not all is well.
In my loneliness,
passion for life has languish.
Spirit tainted by sinful spell,
I’ve drank the cup of anguish?
Will the heart heal?
His calm silhouette-
caress me with warm zeal.
Heaven and Earth embrace as one.
In pain, I can survive.
Like the radiance of the Sun,
I feel my spirit revive.

With the wind,
the Prince disappears
like pollinated petals.
I implore him to reappear.
I’m a vulnerable child;
afraid to be back in the wild.
His voice whispers
that it is time to awake.
He will not forsake me.
One day when I’ve blossom,
I’m destine to meet him again.
With his holy army,
slanderous shadows will flee.
With the Prince of Peace,
Life’s lamenting will one day cease!

(c) Jo Swan
cursedreveries Nov 2018
i see a long line
made of lunatic, inebriate saints—
chanting orisons
with their haloes and white robes—
racing to the sea
screaming and preaching—
exchanging blows
for the blood of the ******—
illuding one another
for the salvation they thirst—
saying, i am one
to ascend the divine nirvana.

am i now a heathen?
for orisons should not pierce the ears—
yet i am dead sick
thus i pray for and on my own—
for the guts to try
ending the hellish havoc.

and when i finally screamed
sets of vile eyes, fangs and weapons—
smiled at me.
this is what happened to my country right now. for this one has a sensitive theme to it, i'll leave it to your own interpretation. written for the first prompt 'Halo' of November Hall of Poetry challenge on LINE app.
Subrat Rath Sep 2018
I am not poor because I believe that money is not power but goodness and holiness.
I try to be a human first and money comes to me automatically.
Money does not make a man it is always man who makes the money.
Do not belittle me if I have no money.
Because powers of the mind are infinite and mind can make billions of money if it wishes.
But that is not the thing.
I remain honest,intelligent and wise.
I have full faith on Lord.
He will give me enough money to fulfill my hopes and dreams.
With complete surrender and faith on Him I move on the path of peace,progress and prosperity and pray for global harmony and peace.
Money does not make the man. It is always man who makes the money. Following certain strict life principles and becoming divine we can earn money at ease.
Maria Etre Oct 2017
The Garden of Eden
could not match
her beauty
so it blended with it
and merged
her holiness
with
the fruit
of sin to
inject black
and white
in the world
Conner Dixon Sep 2017
That is what non-believers go through
Their whole life they believe an illusion then when they die
They face the truth
Their whole life was a waste of time for them
Now judgement time
Times up for them to be good
Were they more heru than set? Time to have your heart weighed & your deeds examined
Will you enter heaven or ****?

Won't find out till we die
For me
I am a future Saint
Blessed
A one who will live as a floating Angel in heaven
That is my goal

Heru is higher self
Virtuous nature
Set is lower self
Sinful nature
Conner Dixon Aug 2017
"God judged it better to bring good out of evil than to suffer no evil to exist."*
- St. Augustine

For it is his might which proves his Providence in such times.
Kail Dec 2016
There's this thing about worship
that I often forget.

You see it's not just this thing
that we do on Sunday.
It's every day;
Every breath and movement of our hands
is done because we understand
that God's grace is not a prize we won.

It was a selfless giving of His only son
that He gave to rend our chains undone
and bring us into relationship with Him
by the victory over sin that we proclaim He won!

Yet somehow life still becomes some kind of rat race
trying to appear holy and saving face
with no admittance that we still need grace
and our response to that grace just kind of...

Disappears.

And then I wonder why I don't see His face,
why I'm not moved by His Word
why I'm not changed by His grace.
I wonder why I don't want Him around,
while my wrists are secretly bound
with shackles I like too much to take off.

But on Sunday morning I pray to be free
to realize that this Jesus did die for me
so that I could be with Him where He is one day,
yet day to day, I almost never say

God, I need you, and I'm not okay.

And I know it doesn't have to be this way!
I know He gave His Spirit, He promised that He'd stay
With me until the end of the age
and even in my deepest darkness His love for me is still the same
But God, oh God, I'm so ashamed
of all the things I've done while periodically praising Your name.

But there is no condemnation from You, You say.
You invite me to turn and run away
Into your arms and that I'll be changed--
That You will give me a new heart
and remove all of this shame
If I'd just confess my sin to You, You'd take the pain.

So I beg, and beg, that every day
My response to You would be the same
To run to You and admit my need
For Your grace, for Your love
above everything.

That I'd never not be responding
with my life, my work, and all my talking
to the Christ that stepped into time
to make me His, and make Him mine.
Worship is more than just a song--it is a response to God and who He is, and what He has done.
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