Tim Mahon Jun 13
3 years done, look what have I done
Talked to a few but
Sad to say some I shunned
Sad to say some were judged
Hard in the halls of this Christian School,
Down in the halls of this place I knew.
They say!
“Why do you go to a Christian School
When all you do is break the rules”
Stop.
This is the mentality I've been trying to break,
This is the way of life the devil want you to take,
Hate on the broken to give ourselves first place.
Jesus spit in the blind man's eyes, healed
Then he spat in the devil's face.

Jesus came to save the lost
Now follow Him and pick up your cross
This is why we are here
Not to party smoke weed or drink beer
But to spread God’s love to those willing to hear.

Why does it seem like Christians are minorities in their own school
Because we don't own up to our beliefs we just do what is cool
We are gonna get out into the real world and look like like a fool.

Take control of these hallways
Walk up and down singing God's praise
And you will get looks up and down like you’re crazed
Isn't that weird.
To be made fun of for loving God in a Christian school is like being made fun of at Jimmy John's when you order a sandwich

This brings me great anguish
It won't be fixed by a simple bandage
We gonna have to rob our school back like a group of bandits
And if we can manage and if we demand it
Ain't nobody left stranded
Because God speaks everybody's language
Whether English or Spanish.

What a school we would be if we lived up to our name
If we stopped worrying about popularity money and fame
I don't care if you wanna be an actor football star or conductor of trains
Our calling is to preach God's plan

And that plan isn't for the upright Christians
It's for the criminals it's for the prostitutes
It's for those who ain't got nothing to lose
It's for the gentiles and the for Jews
The rich men and women and those without shoes
Those with privilege and those who can't choose

Because if we don't come together divided we lose
Satan gets out his Keurig and makes his famous brew
We will be drowning in our own school like a flipped over canoe
If we don't come together and start speaking truth
This was written for our last chapel at school and then read aloud to all the men. It hurt to see my Christian school flying in the face, both the students and faculty were at fault. I hope that when I visit I will see change.
Sid Jun 12
Here Comes the Dim Light,
Nice and Dim,
Makes the shadows more than them,
Brightens the room more than bright,
Eyes get sleepy after some time,
Come one, Let's  switch off this Dim Light !!
rob kistner Jun 7
_

I sit

watch the flow
of people

the shuffle of feet
with their different sounds
according to their shoes

I see shapes of faces

unsmiling lips

their void curve
denounce this night

yet unseen

the gossamer curtain’s
fall
that defines
their soul’s duality

the divergent reality
through which
truth stumbles blind

to move in the world
rough as a rope
taut as every promise made

frayed as wisdom
leaned in
whispered from behind

block the fist
ease the ego
broker détente

bandage wounds
tend the bruises
the insults

grab at time
like dropped money

I might learn
a thing or two
tonight

but someone
must release the light

so I can shine
like a little boy
who likes ice cream
most of all

this boy
reads old men’s minds

he does not eat meat

I will not eat meat

so I notice the shoes

the belts
the bags

all made of leather

I feel a shiver

a sad imbalance

a confliction
in my soul

so

I’ll practice non-attachment
because I can

but pieces of me
stick
to whoever gets too close

you may have seen me

silhouetted against the sky
the coldest night in January

howling
with the frozen moon

a duet
to make coyotes
cower in their dens

then moon and I
sneak

among cages of studs
& trusses
we run

from room to imaginary room

the whole world
close enough to touch

we eat a midnight lunch

white cheese sandwiches
perfumed with foreign lands

and onion thoughts
layered deep

show mercy
peel back the layers

peel me away

thin by thin
skin by skin
to my quivering soul

I hope I am not
hideous in your sight

these thoughts
become too heavy to hold

or chew
or swallow

or lug in a massive bag

my thoughts

bonewhite lies
of morality plays
open for you to peak

hope they are not
hideous in your sight

hope they do not
make you cry

as you peel back
all the layers

onion
thought
layers

held fast and firm

like a carapace
to which
I’m stitched
and welded

and can no more leave
than you can truly enter

they tie me down
sometimes

but sometimes
barely so

survivor that I am

the inescapable optimism
in my barebones grin

flashes

in the brittle moonlight

a patrolman
comes to where I sit
to see

his beam
blinds the stars
from my eyes

beneath his warm smile

his radar eyes
scan the forgotten creases
and clandestine getaways
in my mind

standing over
he looks down

one of us can learn
a thing or two tonight

if someone
will release the light

_


rob kistner © 11/4/2008
written in real time while living among homeless street people as part of a personal experiential exploration

it is from a series of poems I created between 2007 and 2010
which were an exploration of minimalist structure
focused on lines of few words, emphasising single word lines
I published them on a blog I entitled "re~flect"
My timing is bad,
Like a death of a loved one
Seems selfish, a far.
Suspend your disbelief but when emotions are high foresight is low. Revealing my pain to release my chest. Never belligerent
Aa Harvey May 24
Insight


Some people write their poetry in the shadows.
Some people seem to like what I write;
But if everybody reads my poetry and stays hiding in the shadows,
How can I know what is right without a little insightful advice?


(C)2016 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
When you enter the garden of life you will find many different shapes and sizes
The colours of the rainbow live therein
Violet blue daffodils and the blood red rose of love
Yellow, pink and orange are all around
Some trees stand so lofty they almost scrape the sky
Others grow happily in the shade of the taller trees
The velvet green lawn unfolds like a giant sized carpet
And highlights its surroundings as a backdrop to a stage
Considering that we are all just actors on a stage after all
No man can deny another his place in the sun
The tree can not tell the flower to uproot itself and grow elsewhere
The rose is fragile and fragrant
The cactus is rugged and requires almost no care
As one of these flowers in this garden
So we are all different from one another
Yet we all derive from one source
With the knowledge of all-ness comes the greater wholeness
Written by Sean Achilleos
2013©
www.facebook.com/SeanAchilleosOfficial/
Amazon: Sean Achilleos 'An Affair with Life' The Philosophical Poems of Sean Achilleos
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Sean Achilleos' Music is also available on the following platforms:
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Aa Harvey Apr 25
I am to blame.


I am to blame for all I have done.
I cannot blame you for the fallen sun.
The rain is not dependent on your independence.
I am to blame for you being gone.


I am to blame for never thinking of you enough.
I am to blame for never loving you truly.
I am to blame; I should have been good.
I am to blame;
You can see right through me.


I have worn a mask to disguise my reflection in the mirror.
It is time to remove the mask;
It is time to see clearer.
The man in the mirror is not a ghost, he is me.
I am to blame for everything.


I am to blame for never changing,
Into what you needed me to be.
I am to blame for you leaving.
I am to blame.
I have to see.
I can no longer blame you,
Because you chose to leave me.


(C)2018 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
When do you find the urge to write?
Often I am asked
after someone has given a poem or two a pass.
When I need to I reply,
which isn't far from the truth and isn't a lie.

So why now?  
Why continue utterances to crowds of one hundred and ninety six
and feel ashamed when my heart speaks before my filter hits.
I guess it goes back to my urge to write
To let it all out.
I can't bare these feelings alone so I put them out to scouts.
Hoping that someone can see
That I am not the representation of insanity
That I know you want me all to be.

I am afraid.
Like a child in many ways.
I don't enjoy not knowing what's ahead
Which is why I have found myself closer to dead.

I reach too far and I assume
Rain sleet or shine,
Doesn't matter
I won't see flowers bloom.
And this is the persistent gloom.
That weighs on a soul like a scary cartoon.

I had a lot I could have turned out all right.
Fuck, look at my past: one thing I know is fight.
But every battle takes its toll
And exponentially it seems i'm missing the bowl.

Ironically now I am level headed
Clean shaven
Warm
But by no means in heaven.

Perhaps for people like me
Who won't accept mediocrity
There are but few retreats
And hello poetry is a good one for me.
Hello Poetry homage
Tommy Randell Mar 28
There are no wayward stars
To rule our lives and make them hard
What we fear in Fate to be our end
Is just light and dark and what we cannot
Comprehend

There are no signs and portents
Just the opportunities Life presents
Love is the trust placed in each other's hands
The hard Truth and soft Frailty of what we finally
Understand
You’ve got more than meets the eyes
You’ve been praying your whole life

And you’ve been saying what socialized
you’ve got no belief and you don’t realize

And how can you wonder why?
Life’s moving faster than our time.
One day you are gonna die.
What will you have left behind?

Don’t say you’re sorry, don’t apologize.
It’s truly not my life to fully recognize.
But take those covers of your heart’s eyes
But when you do, don’t act so surprised

Now you’re not allowed to wonder why
I am just showing the truth where it lies
If it is painful that’s something worth the mind
Just remember not everyone is kind.

Remember not every one is kind
Remember many are still very blind
Remember again not everyone’s kind
Now think of those still in disguise
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