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I lose my shape, shattered
In turmoil, deeply battered
Beneath my veil, head bowed and tattered.

I lose my way, defeated
In steps that forget to plead,
In anger blind to its misdeeds.

O Master of the Universe,
I am lost,
Forgotten the path of obedience.

O Ruler of the Horizon,
At Your door, I knock in submission,
To embrace the light of devotion.
In his arrogance, he promised her the World

In his defeat, all he could afford her was his heart

In reality, his heart was all she ever wanted

It meant the World to her
To God I pray for all her life
That she would stay inside this life
I know You'll come but don't know when
I pray refine her before then

That she may be in life past death
That You will bless her every breath
That You would bring her home once more
That You would give her life once more

Right now she's flat she has no hope
I pray You'll guide her from above
And
Keep her safe
Please
the raw confusion of the nucleotide fusion,
the great concoction of recombinant DNA,
when we cross over our own boundaries
and subsume, integrate, reformulate our
very selves, with inhalation complete of
another human being; the danger’s inherent,
absorbing a foreign body totally is the creation of a new being entire, vulnerable
despite the new totality of the resources of
two hearts acquired for mergence

and the rush of two different bloodstreams
now circulating, stronger by far, and equally
vulnerable to diseases never prior considered,
these tissues patches, interwoven skins, two
fabrics, silk and wool, a smooth itchy, that
makes us stronger with yet unknowns of weaknesses, and then we encounter what
cannot easily be digested, comprehended,
for even new cells split apart, and the terrible
terror of dividing division that is the side effect of integration, new subdivisions never
ever forever foreseen cause volcanic tremors
and trusting your other half is awful,
until the fear subsides

this is the why
I write of
only love poetry,
the study of this process
so poorly and powerfully
misunderstood
is the atom bomb
of the human psyche

in rivers dark we travel,
oars with cotton muffled,
for there are dangers on each bank,
and in the waters beneath
the salt and the fresh
excitingly & violently blending,
different weights
somethings fall to the bottom,
others rise to the top

and when the process is nearly resolved
(for never ending,
by default defined,
for end is a conflict
constant
interrupted by truces fraught,
fragrant and vulnerable)

this then
is living,
this physic of the
bio-il-logic process
called love,
and the endlessness
that it requires

the inconstancy
of the
constancy
of the
deepening well,
and the
redemption of
redefinition
of what is
well


<>

2:10pm
nyc
10/21/24
music
———
“Sometimes Whrn We Touch” Dan Hill
“Total Eclipse of the Heart” Bonnie Tyler
“By the Rivers Dark” Leonard Cohen
Made a bruised heart wait out in the cold
Had it sag down
On your streets where there were no justice
Only merciless dogs trembling in their skin
For so violent an unbelonging
Such a vain act of expelling
Came from your seat, your house
Cold hearth
The ones you bore waiting waif
Out on your streets, in concrete embellish
the ones you could not take home
Orphaned and fooled
Ding ding ding
Hearing of the death bell ring
And honor dies bleeding
But not a love lost
Lemon Black Oct 4
When tiresome rowing takes its toll,
Brings dare to care for what's beneath.
Long lost memories emerge from darkness,
Like the drowned, following surface call.
A cry for help, left with no answer,
Now meets our dread, begging release.
Reunion with those we once held dear,
Only to recognize their faces,
Their silhouette, their traits. Identify them,
To call old sorrows by their name.
We know them truly, to their core,
And wish were spared from this truth.
We close their eyes, bring them ashore.
A rescue arriving long overdue.

But the final push has yet to be made—
To find room for love in a grieving heart.
Where we can lay them to their grave,
Bid farewell, before we part.
With each epitaph, every tombstone,
Each pain brought where it desperately yearned,
To end the suffering, rejoice salvation,
Our own anchorage lessens weight.
Encouraged, we’re back to the boat,
To keep on making the heroic choice.
One day, unburdened, we too will float,
Feel pure, cared, loved, and rejoice.
Our lives act as harbors for all that happens. Without a witness, what would it matter if anything happened at all? Yet, comes a time when these stored experiences become too heavy to carry. Some of it we do not want and push away. But this only drains us, unloading no weight. As we grow tired of merely coping, we start to seek true relief. This process of opening up opens a way for the rejected, the pushed-away, to rise to the surface, longing for our attention and care. To be relived - to fade away. The task might feel daunting, the challenge insurmountable. But it is forgiveness that initiates the healing; it is ourselves that we are ultimately caring for.
Malia Sep 26
I collapsed, the ground gave way
The earth, it trembled and it quaked
I thought that I would tear asunder
Ripped by each blight, botch, and blunder.
Could I ever overcome?
Not alone, no, not alone.
The world screamed until I was numb—
Like them, I thought I was alone.
When hardship comes and runs its course
When I am bashed by every force
When I feel sullied and abhorred—
Christ says, “You are not alone”.
Sin is 
Universal 
There is no distinction. 
But all are justified freely. 
His grace 
Is there always? Christ's redemption 
Can only free us from 
Sins big or small 
Freely
Romans 3:23-24
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