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031724

As I look to the skies, I see the stars
Waving their light
In the vastness of their own universe.

In the mirror, I talk to myself —
“I see your scars and you’re messed up…
You’re tired and everything’s heavy.”

I tried to close my eyes
Where it’s just me and You —
You who always believed in me.

You say,
“I see your scars and yet I love you…
I know you’re tired but I have you.”

When I try to quit,
You say, “Quitting is not an option.”
Your love is enough; at the Cross, I surrender.

Who am I to be numb?
When Your love was the only hope I cling to…
Who am I not to love you back?
When Your love was the reason of my existence?
022724

Wings glide as He hovers and covers me,
The Alpha and Omega has come
And He shall reign forever and ever!
His throne will be established!

All thrones and all crowns will bow down,
All powers will lose their might,
No pride left for any tribe
But just one hymn will be in harmony and collide.

Between the darkest space,
I have found the abyss too hard to find —
Too hard to dealt with
But no strong tower can deny the Greater Power!

To the loneliest place on earth,
To the empty space where hearing
And beating of splendor resonates,
I will call upon the Lord…
I will exhalt Your Name forever!
Scarlet McCall Nov 2023
My love, my guiding light,
shield me from the horrors
of this mortal world's blight--
the sorrow, and the pain,
and blood running
into rivers like rain.
I cover my eyes and curse my sight.
But as I turn to you, your image
blocks out the deepening night.
I imagine your hand, your fingers touching mine
(though you will never be mine). With you,
I am home. I walk through the night
to where it is always day; I shall never be alone.
Man Oct 2023
Eyes of anthracite, ignite-
Fuel for my waning spirit
Food for my hungry soul.

Her rays mirrored sunlight,
And I, a humble acolyte:

Happily dirtying myself to worship coal.

The decades of pressure
Stifling in leisure, tiny slivers of pleasure.
Harsh force of demand.

Idle gem, form of a diamond:
Unaware of her own worth.

How often, is ignorance our ruin
And ourselves, our own undoing.
To eat our own words:

How it hurts
Connor Sep 2023
“I don’t know if anyone could ever love me,” you say.

“Don’t you see how I worship you?” I scream with my thoughts, but you can’t hear me anyway. I debate, asking you, whispering in your ear.

Instead, I am silent, unsure of how to comfort you. I don’t want to tell you that I love you, not yet.

So I close my eyes and trace my fingers along the lines of your jaw, cheeks, nose, and eyebrows.

I touch you like one would handle a porcelain teacup. You could break if I don’t think about keeping my fingers light as I follow the fine craftsmanship all across your back.

I don’t tell you the words of praise and admiration I trace into your back as you crane into my touch. The body absorbs what the mind cannot fathom.

I place kisses on your belly, the back of your leg, and the places that are never loved. When I love, I want to love all of you truly.

“No one has ever touched me like this, so softly,” you say, and right then I want to burst into tears. How dare they! How dare they not treat you like artisan bread, like a mural in an alleyway, like freshly molded pottery before it enters the kiln.

What a crime it is that you have never known what it is like to be held for the sake of holding, to know touch that has no fine print and no malice.

You quiver and shake when I touch you like the novelty of this feeling is too much. I make a joke about how sensitive you are, so maybe for a moment, the reality of why is just a joke instead of reality. And for a moment, you can cope.

You don’t like being looked at in these intimate moments, so I think about how I would describe your eyes in a poem instead. I’ve had ample opportunities for this, and I have come up with the following:

The sky with just the right amount of clouds, the kind of day with a light breeze that makes you want to pick blueberries.

The first drop of rain. It always seems to land on your face, like a kiss from Mother Nature.

The newest flower on an orchid plant, only a bud the day before. It is the same color you want at our wedding. It feels like such a far-off thing to me, a vague concept, but to you, it feels like the Save the Dates have just been sent in the mail.

The rest are a bit much.



I remember to massage your toes, the ball of your foot, the arch, the heel. You don't like feet, including your own foot, but I am here to love the parts of yourself that you can't love.

I pray to you in my thoughts that you can feel my love through my thumbs rubbing healing circles into your tense shoulders. That somehow, my actions will help you remember what a divine being you are, a god with amnesia.

What are you the god of? I think, maybe, that you are the god of moments. Humorous glances from across an aisle, Dutch ovens, singing too loud on night car rides, vicious tickle fights that end in sweet kisses, interrupting each other at work, finishing each other's thoughts and sentences, taking my glasses off when I fall asleep with them on, tiny routines that are barely considered routines but are done almost without thinking all the same.

I, for the first time, feel seen by a deity. There is no higher power, no sin. There is no wrong. There is only the reverence I give to you, that is expelled by every cell in my body, that consumes every waking thought.

There is you, and there is me. There is us. And that is enough.

Don't you know I worship you?
Hi. It's been a while.
Leah Ward May 2023
The main theme of this poem is um, triumph
So uh the secondary theme of this poem is defeat?
How could that be? Is that even what a poem is?
Is my life a song? Is this the ******* chorus?

Something crawls up from the drain through the ***** dishes and out of the sink. It grips me! It’s got me!

[This is the part I want to hide]

I saw a man so beautiful
Rarely is there ever a beautiful man--
a man so beautiful you want to kneel
and scream “You’re so beautiful!”
But instead I’ll worship him in the ways he insists:
by stepping aside on the sidewalk,
by laughing at the jokes he steals from me,
by squandering the money he pays me to do his job.

Is my life a song? Is this the ******* chorus?

It took me three to four years to learn
the difference between worshiping and begging,
between faith and belief
And now I have neither and engage in both and yet
My life feels like a free coffee and bagel
My life feels like an unwrapped candy bar
My life feels like a compliment from a stranger
My life feels like a birthday card with cash in it
Is my life a song? Is this the ******* chorus?

This is my once-yearly poem.
It’s like a broken perfume bottle at the bottom of my bag.
Look at it-- read it. Smell it.  Literal swill.  Most things make me feel sad, even more things make me feel threatened, especially this poem.
What is there to do but put my head in my hands?
What is there to say if not sorry?
Our love looks like reverence
As I raise my hands in surrender,
Waiting for the holy fire to wash me clean

Our love looks like reverence
And your name falls from my lips,
A desperate plea for your touch

Our love looks like reverence
And I am on my knees in front of you
Worshipping your body as it deserves to be
I am only on my knees for her
1)The living shall worship 🛐 thy Lord as the Angels adore Him on the throne.

2)Off their faces with their golden crowns 👑+ bowing down.

3)Their songs is hallelujah, 🙌 glory, giving holiness, admiring the everlasting living being.

4)Who made heaven is holy place of abode.

5)Make audible roaring, let the pillars of heaven tremble, the foundation of the Earth quake.

6)And the waters surrounding the universe from the peak of heaven.

7) Shallow down the depth of sea bowing🙇 before His presence.

8) Every powers and knees worship, 🛐 before his presence.

9) Glory, salvation, healing, blessing, divine favor, love, peace, life hove in His presence.

10) Sing melodiously, gloriously shout excellently even with poetry.

11) Sing palm unto thy Lord who is worthy, on whose hands lies everythang.

12) Holy, holy spirit, holy is thy Lord Almighty God.

13) Blessing be the name of thy Lord God. Amen! 🙏
Inspired by the holification and glorification of God the father.
Who love the LORD they fear,
Enter and worship here.  
Who love or know Him not,
Enter, but fear a lot.
Katelyn Rew Aug 2022
I dance out my anger in the name of the priestess,
draw in her power to extinguish my unrest.
I worship my body in a state of undress,
let my rage break free in radical protest.
I surrender myself to this sacred process,
stomping my feet like an unbridled tempest.
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