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Blessed is he who shuns the road
Advis'd by wicked men to travel,
And stands not in the sinner's way
     Upon that stony gravel;
Nor sits within the scornful's seat
To look with pride upon the street.

But his delight is in the law
Of God, and night and day, and day
And night, he meditates on this:
     He ponders it alway.
Blessed is he who knows the rod
Is wielded by a loving God.  

Blessed is he, for he shall be
A planted tree by rivers wet
With living waters, bearing fruit
     In season, fruit thickset.
His water'd leaf will wither not,
And he will prosper on the spot.

Not so th'ungodly.  They will parch
Alike a desert dune at noon,
And blow about like so much chaff,
     And o'er the earth be strewn.
Far and away, away and far,
The evil wicked scattered are.

Therefore the wicked shall not stand
In judgment, but, instead, be judg'd.
No sinners join the congregants
     Of God, lest God be smudged.  
God gives his children cherishing
While wickedness goes perishing.
Eloisa Jun 2021
I don’t need beautiful music to continue
to dance.
I don’t need perfect words
to tell you my life story.
My life is shown in the grace of each sunset
and sunrise.
It is written in the blackness of the night up until the light of each day.
It is felt in the coarseness of the sand
and in the softness of the clouds.
It is heard through the songs of the birds
and the psalms from the still water.
Each of my story is part of the dust and hopeful seeds blown and scattered by the joyful winds.
The magic, the majesty, the glory of everything that surrounds me.
Every single moment is a memory.
A wonderful memory of my story.
Filomena Jan 2021
(1) Nun Izraelo diru tiun ĉi:
Se l'Eternulo kun ni ne estus
(2) Se l'Eternulo fore nin lasus
Kiam leviĝis homoj kontraŭ ni
Nian animon provantaj ĉasi

(3) Tiam vorintus certe ili nin,
Kaj tuj glutintus laŭ timo nia;
Tiel estis kolero ilia -
(4) Ĉion dronanta, kiel inundo;
ili nin trenus suben al morto.

(5) Akvo fiera, kun ondoj tiaj -
Tute la teron superfluantaj
Animojn niajn detrukovrantaj.
(6) Benu la Eternulon nun ĉiuj;
Li nin ne donis al iliaj dentoj.

(7) Kiel ĉasbirdo el la kaptilo;
La retoj estas nun disŝiritaj,
Kaj nune estas ni liberitaj.
(8) Helpas nin nur la Nom' de l'Eternul',
Kreinto de la tero kaj ĉiel'.
Esperante kaj Verse
Laŭ la melodio de '124 Antikva'
(Psalmo 124a de la Psalmaro de Ĝeneva)
That Girl Sep 2020
Most girls love having crushes.
The thought of someone new.
Asking themselves, “Is this it? Could this be the one?”
Allowing themselves to be hopeful that this one will be different.
But then there’s girls like me.
Girls who have anxiety.
I hate the feeling of liking someone new.
I hate having crushes.
While other’s get butterflies,
I get angry wasps.
My heart doesn’t skip a beat.
Instead it pounds against my chest like I just ran a marathon.
I don’t blush.
My chest heats up and gets covered in red splotches.
When I look down at the ground I’m not doing it to be cute.
It’s better to look at the ground than to look into another set of eyes that will never love you.
While some girls lose sleep out of pure bliss,
I lose sleep because of fear of rejection.
I’m not asking myself, “Could this be the one?”
No, I’m asking myself, “How will this one break my heart?”
But I will let this crush crush me.
I’ll soak in my hurt.
Make myself fully aware of the tears running down my face.
Remember how they feel.
And I will move on.
Like I always do.
“Weeping may last through the night,
But joy comes with the morning.”
Psalms 30:5
ConnectHook Jul 2020
Save me, O God; for the waters are come in unto my soul.

I sink in deep mire, where there is no standing:
I am come into deep waters, where the floods overflow me.

I am weary of my crying: my throat is dried:
mine eyes fail while I wait for my God.

They that hate me without a cause
are more than the hairs of mine head:
they that would destroy me,
being mine enemies wrongfully,
are mighty:
then I restored that which I took not away.

O God, thou knowest my foolishness;
and my sins are not hid from thee.

Let not them that wait on thee, O Lord God of hosts,
be ashamed for my sake:
let not those that seek thee be confounded for my sake,
O God of Israel.

Because for thy sake I have borne reproach;
shame hath covered my face.

I am become a stranger unto my brethren,
and an alien unto my mother's children.

For the zeal of thine house hath eaten me up;
and the reproaches of them that reproached thee
are fallen upon me.

When I wept, and chastened my soul with fasting,
that was to my reproach.

I made sackcloth also my garment;
and I became a proverb to them.

They that sit in the gate speak against me;
and I was the song of the drunkards.

But as for me, my prayer is unto thee, O Lord,
in an acceptable time:
O God, in the multitude of thy mercy hear me,
in the truth of thy salvation.

Deliver me out of the mire, and let me not sink:
let me be delivered from them that hate me,
and out of the deep waters.

Let not the waterflood overflow me,
neither let the deep swallow me up,
and let not the pit shut her mouth upon me.

Hear me, O Lord; for thy lovingkindness is good:
turn unto me according to the multitude of thy tender mercies.

And hide not thy face from thy servant;
for I am in trouble: hear me speedily.

Draw nigh unto my soul, and redeem it:
deliver me because of mine enemies.

Thou hast known my reproach, and my shame,
and my dishonour:
mine adversaries are all before thee.

Reproach hath broken my heart; and I am full of heaviness:
and I looked for some to take pity, but there was none;
and for comforters, but I found none.

They gave me also gall for my meat;
and in my thirst they gave me vinegar to drink.

Let their table become a snare before them:
and that which should have been for their welfare,
let it become a trap.

Let their eyes be darkened, that they see not;
and make their ***** continually to shake.

Pour out thine indignation upon them,
and let thy wrathful anger take hold of them.

Let their habitation be desolate; and let none dwell in their tents.

For they persecute him whom thou hast smitten;
and they talk to the grief of those whom thou hast wounded.

Add iniquity unto their iniquity:
and let them not come into thy righteousness.

Let them be blotted out of the book of the living,
and not be written with the righteous.

But I am poor and sorrowful:
let thy salvation, O God, set me up on high.

I will praise the name of God with a song,
and will magnify him with thanksgiving.

This also shall please the Lord
better than an ox or bullock that hath horns and hoofs.

The humble shall see this, and be glad:
and your heart shall live that seek God.

For the Lord heareth the poor, and despiseth not his prisoners.

Let the heaven and earth praise him,
the seas, and every thing that moveth therein.

For God will save Zion, and will build the cities of Judah:
that they may dwell there, and have it in possession.

The seed also of his servants shall inherit it:
and they that love his name shall dwell therein.

Psalm 69 [KJV]
My Name is Shepard: When King David was very old, he could not keep warm

ancient kings grow aged, time offeres no exemptions,
hard life body, worn from glory, battle hoary, many women,
his story was not an allegory, it was allegorical story retold,
a poet loved the lord, sunk to sin, pride, yet, always asking why,
for all kings have boundaries, limits, even offenses unforgivable.

his psalms depleted, his eyes rapid failing, and the warmth
gone missing was not from his body, that but a side casualty,
his eyes were to mountains cast, wondering whence will come.
a warmth needed live forever, knowing full well no such power
exists except his Lord’s lasting embrace, their joint, last verse.


My name is David, born a shepard boy, dying a king, a human saved
by the hand of the Lord from the paw of the lion and jaws of the bear,
gave courageous trust to slay a Philistine giant, the greatest gift?

To pen powerful words that long outlived my actions and misdeeds,
a gift transferred to you and you, a certain knowledge that truthful
writs, will be your everlasting scrip and scripture, a name well recalled, poems of praise, songs of lament and sorrow, lyrics of wisdom, even those of mistakes, errors of sin, asking for wisdom for the greatest bravery, to ask, and greater still, to give forgiveness.

the warmth I seek will arrive at last, as the watchmen recite my poems by candlelight to me, as I ascend to meet my maker, the candle giving both heat and light for this is the dual nature of human life, this balance striven to leave our ledger level, letting our history be an honest reflection of we we were, who we hoped to be, and the record giving the warmth of our human truths long lasting.

When a Jew dies, a watch is kept over the body and tehillim (Psalms) are recited constantly by sun or candlelight, until the burial service. Historically, this watch would be carried out by the immediate family, usually in shifts, or the Burial Society.  When my father passed on the sabbath, in the hospital, my job was to guard, watch over his body, till night fell, and the Sabbath ended, so the body
could be moved.

“When King David was very old, he could not keep warm even when they put covers over him. So his attendants said to him, ‘Let us look for a young ****** to serve the king and take care of him. She can lie beside him so that our lord the king may keep warm.’ Then they searched throughout Israel for a beautiful young woman and found Abishag, a Shunammite, and brought her to the king. The woman was very beautiful; she took care of the king and waited on him, but the king had no ****** relations with her” (1 Kings 1:1–4)
Colm Jan 2020
For blue eyed want
   Look to the sky
For tall encouragement
   A Mountian range
For warmth of hand once felt alive
   The youth of dawn
And for next of kind
  The same old stars to arrive
Look up, look up, for all that is
   Without frame or screen to hold no more
Look down and inward for all that's been
   In the Psalm where our first love was born

   You need not eyes to see where we were
   Or even where we will be one day
Originally "1304" lol
The Precursor’s Psalms
Book Two
Chapters VI- X: Ragnarök

A sacred parcel to the soul who looks to ―raptured firmaments for their salvific benison. Se'lah.

VI: The Paean of Lovelight (The Paean of Lovelit Life)

1 Every particle in the soil of my epidermis roves for its emanation,
Its musicality, vibrating in pulsing fuchsia shockwaves,
This melodic energy is the Paean of Lovelit Life.
2 It reverberates the remittance in reminiscence;
yes, the Circle of Life breathes through the conduit,
it peregrinates
The ephemerality, even, the eternity in all entity.
(For in us exist dichotomies)

3 In a moment of self-revelation
I know naught but the vagary of the self;
still, the pain remains,
In the benighted truth of epiphany;
4 Yes, even,
Upon the Visage of Creation
All existence groans in groping
For its Nirvanic Pulse, ―like a wraith.

5 Finding meaning in all that I am,
all that I see, all there will be, and all that is,
I understand the fallacy in knowing, the bane in consciousness:
6 In an instant, one must forget

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all they have learned, all they feel, all they sense,
in the diminution of a moment
lest the soul relinquish that which does seamlessly transmit itself through
The Streams of Tempus Fugit.

VII: The Virescent Masquerade

1 Forsake all sorrows of the morrow, for
Beneath the Masquerader’s Virescently Butterfly-Winged Mask, there is a beckoning;
2 O, even amidst foible for which you long to be assoiled, excogitations do roil;
A tremulous heart: eventualities do saunter past, present,
future, and in communing you examine the finitude & the frailty
(Will their Exodus, my Exodus,
Come before I am ready?)
Of those in the Land of the Living.

VIII: Hierarchy of Sacrality

1 Wisdom
Is a cosmos,
2 Love,
―Invictus Dei,
3 Power,
The Cradle of Cosmogenesis,
4 Justizia,
Universal Scales through which Edicts of the Cosmogonist unfurl.

IX: Vagrant Story

1 Profundities lie in our vagrancies,
And in these there lie Faiths;
The faithful hunger for
For through these, we find a Savior.  

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2 Our Deiform-Apotheosis is ordained by of the Arbiter of Fates,
3 He Is Our Nexus to Transcendence,
The Empyrean whom carnal perdition hast braved

X: Nelumbo Nucifera (Sacred Lotus)

1 ―O, Jah,
The Sovereign of Songbirds,
Sing in the Key of Elysium,
The Requiem of Our Swansong;
2 Beseech the Earthen Womb
Of the Terraqueous Mother
To conceive us anew that
We partake of an elemental legacy.

3 O, then
Might we re-alight,
Upon an aforetime wearied land,
―Nelumbo Nucifera: The Impregnable Sacred Lotus
4 Whose aegis’d petals through
Dusk, Dawn, Midday, Twilight, and Eve
Might effloresce
In the Aeonic Light of The Empyrean One.


Written on
May 20th, 2019

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The Book of 1st John
Chapter 3,
Verses 18 -24

(Verse 18)

“Little children, we should love, not in word or with the tongue, but in deed and truth.”

(Verse 19)

“By this we will know that we originate with the truth, and we will assure our hearts before him”

(Verse 20)

“regarding whatever our hearts may condemn us in, because God is greater than our hearts and knows all things.”

(Verse 21)

“Beloved ones, if our hearts do not condemn us, we have freeness of speech toward God;”

(Verse 22)

“and whatever we ask we receive from him, because we are observing his commandments and doing what is pleasing in his eyes.”

(Verse 23)

“Indeed, this is his commandment: that we have faith in the name of his Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as he gave us a commandment.”

(Verse 24)

“Moreover, the one who observes his commandments remains in union with him, and he in union with such one. And by the spirit that he gave us, we know that he remains in union with us."

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Hearken unto
Resplendent Sol,

The Twilight draweth nigh,
Whence erupts from Sundered skies
Aeonic Light

Let ye soul
The Great Apothecary;
His Panacea of Healing Love.

I am a Loveless
Blight, worn, of Earthly Denizens,
I bid you
Immortal heartsease.

Borne of the Father:

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Sired by the Son:

Begotten by the Spirit:
Burgeons in

The Grand Creator's
Magnum Opera:
All of us.

Excelsior Forevermore,

Sanders Maurice Foulke III.

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