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Philip Salt Sep 28
I am capable of anger
I am capable of compassion
I am white hot rage

Tempered only by the skulls
Skulls beneath my feet
Unworthy feet to touch Golgotha
Unworthy feet to dangle on the tree before me

Cleanse my feet!

Grace of God,
Your example crucified
The indwelling of light on my soul.

I am not capable of forgiveness
My compassion does not endure
Humility and broken humanness collide

I am grounded to shadow
Holy Spirit be my strength
Without it I have no capacity to forgive.

Only to rage on
And it's so ******* hard
Because I am human
Moment Time
The client came over again
2nd time in a year to see the reps
Plus support who dialled the account

It was he who asked his boss the Fake God
Why not ask the client dial his account?
So we can see how good he is?
The tip of the spear the best in action

Get the other bosses there too
See who the best seller is
It would be exceptional and rare

Try to absorb some of their skills
For we sell their product in their account
It has to be special like we all are
Let’s do it and become more than legends

He wanted to equal then surpass
The Fake God in skills and success
Brian actually respected and liked the guy

And it was somewhat reciprocated
The Fake God knew he was older
And ill with gout and arthritis and more
That he wouldn’t quiet till stone cold dead

The Fake God wanted 2 more closers
Get Red and the Arab to do it
Brian wants more experience for the job

Then he’ll be closer, TL then OM
And be called the False God 2
Hunting more skills success but not cash
Brian knew these were different times

Even if he wouldn’t live forever
This was his time and moment
He was humbly enjoying it
The artwork a face
a mirror the frame
no portrait the same
nvinn fonia Apr 13
very best
very best
Àŧùl Jun 2020
I Am Father Time.
I keep changing your life.

At times, I am the stormy weather.
At others, I am the calm breeze.

You worship the wrong deities.
You make wars misinterpreting me.

I am the sole Creator,
I am the only Conserver,
I am the real Destroyer.

And,
It is Me, who you should worship.
My HP Poem #1856
©Atul Kaushal
Zeena Miedema Apr 2020
Longing for a pureness.
Longing for white hair.
Longing for oblivion to harm just being wandering.
In a valley in a grey dress.

Maybe there's a dimension where people can see what each other's souls have been through.
And everything is just right for all their souls to heal.

I'd be called Isdal, waiting for the ones I loved most in my past lives to come and find me.
And we already know each other and we know we already know.

Looking at the past it all feels very dark.
Looking at the future it's also very dark.
Being in the present it's just ok, I guess.
Just for now.

Always trying to run harder than it's raining.
Trying not to get hit by the drops too hard.
Or just trying to accept you will get soaking wet and sing along...

Oh I'm longing for a pureness.
Longing for white hair.
Longing for oblivion to harm just being wandering.
In a valley in a grey dress.

Will I find it when I leave?
And will you find me?
I'll be waiting.
As I'm waiting here now too.
28-04-20
Amanda Kay Burke Apr 2020
I have drank *****
Down to very last droplet
At bottles bottom
I don't drink much nowadays but back in my prime I was never one to turn down a spider
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2014
Lord:

no bequest requested.
no grant, no teach,
no need or greed asked
just a hey listen up,
if your attention is elsewhere

this is an
all-on-my-own
prayer that
my eyes only utter,
my tongue,
self-silenced,
can only watch
and must approve

in fact,
this is more
of a post
than a prayer,
updating you
on the state
of what we Earth temporaries
call the heart, mind, soul
and even our,
your-designed
crafted carrier,
my body

Mine enemies call me
cursed, embittered,
they are right - but fools,
they are
so much more than wrong,
for in this they err grievous,
for they cannot see their own
bile provisioning their end

ask for no interference
from the sidelines
neither from the
sapphire mother sky
that raised me up gloriously
this morning

nor the emerald earth
that this day
both gives and gets
common bounty
gives me sustenance,
as much spiritual
as grained cereal delights

lest you think this
just one more
me-centric rants,
let us recall this prayer,
is his very own,
prayer of gratitude

woman's head
rests on my chest,
her blonde highlights,
highlight our bed
and our
life

take and tuck her tresses
from eyes and forehead,
gentle them into place,
behind her ear,
and my hand journeys on
to the skin,
flesh of her backbone,
where my fingers
spread wide,
five messengers unique,
advising all of the 120 provinces of her
heart, mind, soul and body,
she is my beloved,
and I pray,
I am hers

learning still to
live with my means,
such as they are,
sometime mean,
sometimes extraordinaire

even this skill,
to express

is a gratitude
that though
comes and goes
like summer breezes
that as now we pray,
cools my AM coffee
while studying the
patterned mystery
of the bay's
Ave Maria waves
from that
dock-by-his-name

where my heart, mind, soul
drink wet inspiration
from the still-oak-tree'd-strong-surfaced waters,
the blue glue of
our common delighted,
uncommon existence

this skill,
at this moment mine,
to share and
not to keep,
for have I not,
been blessed,
by comrades-in-arms
that kneel beside me,
asking, imploring
to be stronger yet,
for their sakes,
for them!
I pray for
best they-can-muster
sustenance of peace
of heart, mind, soul
and body

here now,
my shills,
my failing skills
cannot help express
in new ways,
a gratitude
that has a shapeless shape,
no measurement app enabled
for their comfort,
our comfort,
best grasped as
an unbounded divinity,
how so I wish I could pray for them better


focus this prayer
on the good ones,
who so greatly honor us
with a greater-than-a-creator,
gift glorious of
friendship

this walnut crack'd shell,
this container ship of
heart, mind, soul,
here there,
a few leaks sprung,
no nicotine patches
to cover

this dented car,
this dented body,
new dent every day
from only-you-know-where
still gets me there,

but
other than taking care better,
it plods along and houses
the rearrangement of this prayer's words,
and that is what is called
plenty good enough,
self-sufficient

prayers that are too long
go to the back of line,
so here we be,
but here we do not wait!


for prayers of gratitude
are instantaneous fulfilled,
and thus granted even before
they are completed
the love I feel for all of the people, friends and poets in my life that give me
their best, their perspective...they know who they are..
7:32am on the dock by the bay, another blessing for which I don't have the words but keep on trying...they are..see below...
PostScript -  the pleasure of your affection for this writ, palpable and heart pounding but it only reflects the spirit that working wordsmiths share in loving camaraderie so deep in the hidden roots of this place. For which I swear I will never to cease to write upon this favorite optic topic a loving challenge...very humbly do I thank you
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