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Sometimes it’s like a dream in broad daylight
A realization of the blessing I’ve been given in my life
A magical feeling surrounds me- they call it love
Feels like an ecstasy I can never escape
A feeling I tried to escape until I realized I could not find peace with it.
Drowning in devotion, almost as though he has become my religion
A heaven sent energy
I’d let him take slice of my heart if it meant keeping him fed with love and support.
A piece of heaven brought into a living hell
He calls me an angel- little does he know that he’s the reason for my wings
He is everything I haves prayed for and more.
A love everlasting that brings peace to a chaotic mind, a man worthy of forgiveness, acceptance and so much more- a man I’ve been granted the opportunity to call mine.
agatha Sep 30
by now my cup would have been filled
with the grace you sing to my name
and how you string sentences together;
letter by letter, thought by thought.

tell me, what does your mind sing
whenever we read the same page of poetry
or listen to the same songs over and over
that they seem to be a dull buzz

a static, a background noise
a façade for something,

                   (dare i say a tryst?)

or would fate call that too early?

but by now, i'd listen to you
speaking my name like a prayer.
maybe for once
i will believe in religion

as long as you're the one

                             preaching.
At times when I'm alone
I think about Simone.
I think about her poetry
and how much her locks have grown,
I wonder if she is still healing
and I pray for her to any messiah.
Simone is just a girl mistreated by a cruel world.
I hope Simone is praying and I hope that it is heard,

I hope that God is female because
praying to a man would reignite her pain.
The clouds poured that day
When my mother took me in the church
I kneeled in front of a porcelain Mary
Who glared down in righteousness
So full of herself, i thought.

She should be a figure of strength
A warrior even, made by her virginal status
But you are still porcelain, I snarled
A slight push
And to pieces you go.

In the fear of the Divine
I confessed my sins
Her smile still cold and smirk like
Laughing ay my earthly worries
Dismissing my lonely sorrow.

I looked up again in pain and anger
Smothered by fear and angst
To be met with my mother’s face
Who stood in porcelain
Looking down in righteousness.
Flying High

Flying high
On top of the world

I am invincible
A feeling like the gods of old

Here I am, do you hear me?
Mold me, I am forever yours

If I am you
And you are me

Then why do I feel alone??
These wings are cracking

Don't you try to catch me
I won't be coming down

But I'll be crashing
This once glorious feeling was legendary.
If you looking for someone?
To tell your problems to.
Jesus is the one.

If you looking for someone?
To sit and advise without judgment.
Jesus is the one( To tell your trouble too).

We have counselors and friends with their own advice.
Some get them wrong and then some get it right.
How to change your ways?

If you looking for someone?
Who been through so much?
Jesus is the one(To help you)

If you're seeking a true friend?
That is there through thick and thin.
Jesus is the one(the one, the one, the only one)

He filled with so much joy.
His name brings happiness.

Oh, Jesus is the one
To call upon

Jesus is the one to forever praise.
dims Jun 29
i found my faith in you,
in your eyes and your words and your mind and every little piece of you, it had my faith in it
this was a different kind of worship
in which the familiar feeling of intertwining our fingers and looking out on the town we grew up on, the very same town we were so scared of

if i could trace back my steps i would
i would go backwards just for you but we haven't figured out how to do that yet
i would give you the moon, the stars
the sun and the earth
(on well-met conditions)
i would have given you anything you asked for
and you knew that, didn't you

now i see my faith long gone in someone who isn't you,
because the familiar tilt in your half-smile is gone and the creases under your eyes are much darker than you would allow
i try and ask you where it's gone but the voice that comes out isn't the one that told me it loved me.

so i think i'm losing my faith, and when it's all gone, what will i have left but the husk of what you used to be?
Caedmon's Hymn: a Modern English Translation of the Old English (Anglo-Saxon) Poem

"Cædmon's Hymn" was composed sometime between 658 and 680 AD and appears to be the oldest extant poem in the English language. Information follows the poem for anyone who’s interested.

Cædmon's Hymn (circa 658-680 AD)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Humbly now we honour heaven-kingdom's Guardian,
the Measurer's might and his mind-plans,
the goals of the Glory-Father. First he, the Everlasting Lord,
established earth's fearful foundations.
Then he, the First Scop, hoisted heaven as a roof
for the sons of men: Holy Creator,
mankind's great Maker! Then he, the Ever-Living Lord,
afterwards made men middle-earth: Master Almighty!

Translator's Notes: "Cædmon's Hymn" is one of the oldest surviving examples of Anglo-Saxon alliterative verse. By way of illustration, in the first line I have capitalized the repeating sounds:

Humbly Now we HoNour HeaveN-kiNGDom's GuarDiaN

In defense of my interpretation that Caedmon may have regarded God as a fellow Poet-Creator, please let me point out that the original poem employs the words scop and haleg scepen. Anglo-Saxon poets were called scops. The term haleg scepen seems to mean something like "Holy Poet" or "Holy Creator/Maker" because poets were considered to be creators and makers. Also the verb tīadæ has been said to mean something like "creatively adorned." So I don't think it's that much of a stretch to suggest that a Christian poet may have seen his small act of creation as an imitation of the far greater acts of creation of his Heavenly Father.

As in the original poem, each line of my translation has a caesura: a brief pause denoted by extra white space (which may not show up in some browsers). In each line, there are repeated vowel/consonant sounds. This alliteration gives alliterative verse its name. The original poem is also accentual verse, in that each line has four strong stresses, and the less-stressed syllables are not counted as they are in most other forms of English meter (such as iambic pentameter). My translation is not completely faithful to the original rules. For instance, I have employed a considerable amount of internal alliteration (which gives me more flexibility in the words I can employ). And some of my lines contain more than four stresses, although I think there are still four dominant stresses per line. For instance, in the first line: HONour, HEAVen, KINGdom's GUARDian. In the second line: MEASurer’s, MIGHT, MIND-PLANS. And so on. I don't think the technique is all-important. The main questions are whether the meaning is clear, and whether the words please the ear. Only you, the reader, can decide that, and you don't need a high-falutin' critic to tell you what you like!

I believe the poem is "biblical" in its vision of creation. According to the Bible, the earth was set on an immovable foundation by the hand of God. (Little did the ancient writers know that the earth is actually a spinning globe whizzing through space at phenomenal speeds!) We see this foundation in line four. Next, in line five, we see the hand of God creating the heavens above, where according to the Bible he then set the sun, moon and stars in place. (The ancient writers again got things wrong, saying that the earth existed first, in darkness, and that the sun, moon and stars were created later; we now know that the earth's heavier elements were created in the hearts of stars, so the stars existed long before the earth. The writers of Genesis even said that plants grew before the sun was formed, but of course they had never heard of photosynthesis.) The poem's last line sounds a bit more Germanic or Norse to me, since Middle Earth is a concept we hear in tales of Odin and Thor (and later in the works of J. R. R. Tolkien). But that makes sense because when Saint Augustine of Canterbury became the first Christian missionary to evangelize native Britons, I believe it was the policy of the Roman Catholic Church to incorporate local beliefs into the practice of Christianity. For instance, because sun gods were worshiped in Rome, the Sabbath day became Sun-day, and the birth of Christ became December the 25th (the day the winter sun is "resurrected" and the days begin to lengthen, heralding spring). So in northern climes we should expect to see some "fusion" of Norse and Germanic myths with Christianity. For instance, there was never a mention of "hell" in the Hebrew Bible; the Hebrew language did not even have a word that meant "hell" at the time the books of the Old Testament were written. The closest Hebrew word, Sheol, clearly means "the grave" and everyone went there when they died, good and bad. The Greek word Hades also means the grave, and likewise everyone went there when they died. Hades had heavenly regions like the Elysian Fields and Blessed Isles and thus was obviously not hell! "Hell" is a Norse term. If this subject interests you―for instance if someone has said you are in danger of "hell" and need to be "saved" from it―you many want to read my simple, logical proof that There Is No Hell in the Bible.

Keywords/Tags: Caedmon, Hymn, Old English, Anglo-Saxon, translation, God, religion, religious, praise, worship, oldest poem, first poem
Fae Jun 18
How to write poetry.
There is nothing worse than time.
Silently waiting until the day my father comes.
**** this I can't write poems for **** anymore.
Some of these poems have no titles. Also as per usual, the images have no reference to the poems, any relation is creation of your own design. They're old poems I found from high school - college. They're mostly terrible but I don't like keeping the old papers. So.. here.
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