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Dylan McFadden Nov 2020
Sometimes, time stands still…

And I see,
Behind her smile,

The smile of Another

.
preston Nov 2020
Stephan W

She said, with a quietly-kind heart--

"Please, sir.. just promise me that you
will always be there.."


And so i was.. in my own limited fashion.
Time went on, and she-- thought that i,

like all the others.. had just moved on.

but I never did.
with ones like her, I never do

no need to.

blessed are the meek..
for they shall inherit the earth
~jebs

:) <3 xo
how crazy was that night,
immense darkness, brightest light,
wildest man, wildest woman
became one decadent human,
halved souls, find each other,
I could have stopped there,
gave up worry, gave up fear,
held tightly with his strength,
heart surrended with intent,
take my breath away,
don't need to live another day,
I had found it all,
why go on?
If I died there in those strong arms, I would have died happy.
But then my most beloved,  would not have achieved spectacular things,
our world flies on fragile, suspended, wings.
Strongest arms
Strongest man
Superhuman
A king from birth
Hanging out on his vine
Made me drunk on something stonger than wine
a love Divine
Naveen Malhotra Sep 2020
I am lost in the maze of events
Blazing trails to find no ends
Looking towards her spirit for guidance
Brilliance appears on the horizon
Leave it to Providence in silence
Seán Mac Falls Aug 2020
.
Seasons shuttle the tall stoic figure,
Graceful and solemn as wafted mist,
When seen, as if he was always there,
Overarching into meek, gloamy skies
Of mornings and dusk, mid day, lost,
Seems not right for wading out kills
That crane from above into the mud
And murk of the penny eyed waters
Only the ferryman will tender, for time
Slips, sleeping with the fishes, spears
Puddle and rim in the wakes, sparks
Of waters break like a sputtering fire,
His dart eyes are as yellow as golden
Sun dancing in funeral pyre.  So green
Creatures, must they always be gotten,
Gone, have it coming from the sheering,
Mercies of the Great Blue Heron who is all
Seeing, scything, down to dazed judgement,
Incited, pecking to order at the squirming fold.
.
Lane O Aug 2020
Endless bounty,
knows no yield;
in rotting garbage,
or fertile field.

Atop the hill,
daily bread is carved.
While down in the valley,
I wander and starve.

Taking shelter,
in the moors and heath.
I shiver and struggle,
to find comfort or sleep.

Dusk soon fades,
the sky jet-black and stark.
My bed of peat,
dew drops, and marsh.

Morning sun:
scorching and cruel.
I hope for a morsel,
some water or gruel.

I saunter weary,
eyes sunken and hollow.
The world is alive,
the birds chorus I follow.

Spared from the sun,
under a thicket or copse.
Sharp pangs of hunger
choke out all hope

Such a fortune given,
so ill a fate.
Forlorn and  wretched,
is forever my state

With strength from the Heavens,
I crawl to your door.
You greet this sad beggar,
with contempt and scorn.

I ask for salvation,
eyes hopeful and glazed.
But I am given no shelter,
nor provision, or grace.

Cast out in the rain,
sodden and cold.
My limbs are weary,
My mind in tumult.

Providence! provide,
Heed my desperate prayer!
Above the stars shine,
my refugee from despair.

I await my death,
If God's grace would bestow;
but I awaken again,
with hunger in tow.

Again I venture,
to your door for fare.
But another has answered,
and pushes back my hair.

Face caked with dirt,
streaked with hot tears,
they run down my cheeks
like raindrops so clear.

My shawl drenched,
my garments of grime.
I'm given bread and milk,
a warm fire and wine.

I am thankful to them, and my Lord,
to have a bed, dry shoes,
fresh clothing, and chores.

New days are ahead!
Such joy and ardor.
No longer do I rest,
in the heath or the moor.
this was inspired by the novel Jane Eyre by Charlotte Bronte
Dante Rocío Jun 2020
God chooses for His/Her work
those with (the most) shameful pasts,
falls
or black paint
on their soul “used-to-be-there”,
the ones we might call
the **** of the earth,
for once changed
and renewed
they know God’s omnipotence,
love,
greatness
the best
and can be the most surprising
of His/Her art
in the process of creating
the New Earth
already.
God’s justice lies in inequality
Laokos Apr 2020
"isn't that something you
want?" she asked.
"no" i replied. "what i desire cannot be given. only by providence can that which is unattached be realized and only by letting go can it be integrated."
"well then...", she said with a smile,
"...perhaps it's time, hmmm?"
and at that she folded
in on herself
over and over
like complex origami
until she became
a butterfly.  

then she fluttered
into my
chest and took
root in my heart
like a seed.  

she grows there
now like a low moon
lover bathing in moonshine,
dripping in starlight,
changing in
the glow.
Thomas W Case Feb 2020
I saw the dawn
**** lonely
orphans,
while bats ate
butterflies,
cats killed sparrows
and hope flew
south for
the winter.

On my way
downtown,
I've seen the
dead through
windows at the
drycleaners, eating
hamburgers with
starched faces

The librarians,
dry and dusty,
pray for rain,
as hippos weep,
hyenas sigh,
and hope
flies south for
the winter.

I've seen the strange
hand of
circumstance
wear the jester's
hat.
I've seen destiny
angry turn her
back, while potential
is wasted on
the railroad tracks.
Yeah, hope flew
south for the
winter.
Providence can be cruel
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