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Lawrence Hall Nov 2021
Lawrence Hall
Mhall46184@aol.com  
https://hellopoetry.com/lawrence-hall/
poeticdrivel.blogspot.com

                                   Ten Knots along a Cord

                       A trewe swinkere and a good was he,
                       Lyvynge in pees and parfit charitee

                                 -Chaucer’s Prologue

See the plowman walking home from the fields
He plods along with the pace of centuries
There is no haste, for time hardly exists
Only the seasons, rolling like cosmic tides

And in his hand, ten knots along a cord
To count each Ave as it passes his lips
And through his heart and hopes and gratitude
His soul secure along the links of being

See the plowman dreaming home from the fields
His feet upon the earth, his head among the stars
Paul Idiaghe Jun 2021
Seek deliverance, the church says,

so I rush quavering
& pink to the lit altar of his pelvis,

kneel to its bells’ solemn
calls, choose not to close my eyes

through hum or lament. In his
presence, I am sin, plain

with my devilish horns—red hot
beast, ***** as hell. He moves me

like fins do water—& I move him
onwards. Unfold my tongue

to his sacrament—bread
-stick, grape wine lips. The gasping

wallops the walls like incense,
& soon we tread through clouds, in a heaven

-ly hour or more. If it is my nature
that I should be delivered into, I have found one,

green, between a man’s bent passion  
& mine. Say pray & I will come

to spray his abdomen
with the loose beads of my rosary.
Lane O Sep 2020
Black rosary beads
Holy prayers uttered to God
Penance for my sins
Ann Pedone Jul 2020
I believe in ghosts, I believe in luck and fate and destiny/I roll the dice whenever I get the chance/sometimes I count out beads on a rosary/I keep hidden/in a drawer/I’ve been to Paris/but I’ve never beento Berlin/I ****** a man on the roof of a building/after a party once/I don’t remember his name/ sometimes I play dumb
I sometimes/don’t know how to draw boundaries/sometimes I don’t/cross my legs/I’ve been told I should see a therapist/remind me again how you like your coffee/tell me when you are about to ***/don’t make me/wait for it/tell me again that you want me more than her/I won’t say my body is like a rosary/but
sometimes/ it feels like one/let me teach you how to please me/let me show you how to open my legs/just/like this/can you
see it/this is the part of me that is connected/straight to my brain/touch me here/and I’ll/grow wings/touch me here
before the river of my body runs dry/I need to take a shower/I need to get on a plane in an hour/I need to try harder to forget his face
long before I was a woman I was a thing burning in the middle of the sea/I was in the middle of the sea I closed my eyes and mouthed the word waves/the water changed the shape of my body as only water can
awknight Jul 2018
standing across from me
a room full of sound
everything is so quiet

folded arms scare me

but then something changes
I see your eyes
they are scared too

I dont feel so alone

look into my heart
see what no one has
truth of outpouring
emotions and demons

you are sacred cloth
          I reach for you
you are holy water
          Baptize me
you are a crucifix
          I worship you
you are christ
          Save me

they burn at the sight of you
Furey May 2018
Eyes glance back and forth
They wore identical masks
Chained together in silver
The moving of a car over potholes
When they were caught
Their masks were removed
A girl and a boy
Held together by nothing more
Then a rosary with Dismas
It is held in their hands
Clasped together in the back
Bars divide them and their captors
The boy is whispering
The girl recites with him
The man in the front yells
The car crashes into another
Shielding her he takes the blunt of it
Glass flies and a bar breaks
"Let's go"
His words loud in the silence
The two climb out
Immediately surrounded by 'family'
The ones that saved them
Today they are seperated by cities and bars
By people who don't want them together
By oceans and lakes
But they each hold a piece
Of the same rosary from all those years ago.
Francie Lynch Nov 2017
An open Rosary,
Sprawled on the table
Has the shape of Eire.
Towns joined like beads
On winding, rope roads.
At the end of the main street
In Shercock, Lough Egish,
Or a thousand other towns,
Looms the church spire,
God's rod.
The square still bustles on Wednesdays.
The smithy's forge
Now lights up a Paddy Power;
The Euro Store sells needles and thread
Where once a seamstress sat;
Shish Kabobs on flat bread sell
Where the butcher's counter displayed the day's cut.
But scrape away the paint
And attend to the devotion and mystery
Of small town Erin;
Where only the pubs maintain names
Decade after decade.
There, on the wall, see the rebels
Enjoying a football match,
And the crowd, laughing,
Has their backs.
Eire, Erin: Ireland
hazem al jaber Feb 2017
Rosary dreams...




Picked up my pen...
and started to write...
writing and fighting words...
fighting with words which i pen...
maybe it will express about what inside me...
to express about the rosary dreams which i always live in...
dreams which aspire to reach the glory...

dreamed about it...
tried to work for it...
did all my best to get it as a reality...
and to be some thing...
some thing that can be an honor to me...

start writing...
write the pains which i feel about...
the pains because of those dreams...
the dreams which still not be a real yet...

our pains are because of those dreams...
dreams which we try to live in...
dreams which we saw and never to get it ,never...

but it seems so hard and difficult to be...
because the beauty dreams which we imagine...
never to be alive in our life...

maybe because of the stress which we suffer in...
and because of the oppositions in our souls...

but i will write and to express...
and its my rights to write...
to write about the life which i hope to...
at least i am writing now...
so i am alive...

dreams still dreams...
and never to be more than dreams...


by: hazem al ...
ShowYouLove Feb 2017
The First Sorrowful Mystery: The Agony in the Garden

Shortly before his death, Jesus goes to the garden to pray for grace and strength. He tells his disciples "Watch and Pray" Jesus enters into prayer so deeply that his sweat is as drops of blood mixing on the ground with his tears. Even in the great darknss and desolation, he finds strength to say: "Let this cup pass before me. But not my will, but as you will it Father."

Jesus tells us as he told his disciples "Watch and Pray". It sounds like a pretty simple task, but it's hard. In the midst of the darkness and despair, Jesus found strength and grace in prayer to his Father. In our darkest times, we can also call on our Father in heaven to sustain us. Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane was as the Garden of Eden after the sin of Adam and Eve. Blood was used to cover sin and wash it away. The blood, sweat and tears in the garden are a reminder of our fallen state as well as an example of the Eucharist with blood and water.

We Pray: Jesus, help us to remember that whatever we go through in life, even and especially in our darkest times, remind us of the strength and grace we receive from our Heavenly Father. Help us also remember of your great love for us in your suffering and agony. Even when we fail, when we sin, when we turn away, you are with us. You love us, you forgive us, you run out to us and take us back. You counted up the cost and we are worth it. It cost everything and you paid the price so we wouldn't have to. Nothing we could ever do could amount to what you gave The best I can do is offer my life for you and my neighbor and try to die to myself daily. I am truly and eternally grateful, for by your amazing grace, I have the opportunity to be with you for all eternity. Thank you Jesus!
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