#abraham
𝓐𝓫𝓻𝓪𝓱𝓪𝓶 𝓛𝓲𝓷𝓬𝓸𝓵𝓷'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓶𝔂 𝓷𝓪𝓶𝓮,
𝓝𝓸𝓻 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓘 𝓮𝓿𝓮𝓻 𝓶𝓪𝓭𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓬𝓵𝓪𝓲𝓶.
𝓘 𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓱𝓲𝓼 𝓪𝓽 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓵 𝓼𝓹𝓮𝓮𝓭
𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓹𝓸𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓭 𝓲𝓽 𝓯𝓸𝓻 𝓭𝓸𝓻𝓴𝓼 𝓽𝓸 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓭.
𝓟.𝓢. 𝓘 𝓯𝓪𝓻𝓽𝓮𝓭.
Jul 29, 2024
Jul 29, 2024 at 9:00 AM UTC
He rose from humble roots to lead the land
A man of courage, wisdom, and resolve
He faced a war that tore the nation's band
And vowed to heal the wounds and to absolve
He knew the evil of the slaver's chain
That bound the millions in a cruel fate
He fought to free them from the endless pain
And end the curse that stained the Union's state
He signed the proclamation of their right
To live as equals in the land of laws
He gave them hope and dignity and might
And earned their love and gratitude and applause
But not all hearts were moved by his decree
Some hated him for daring to defy
The order that they claimed was meant to be
And plotted to cut short his noble life
They struck him down one fateful April night
A coward's bullet silenced his great voice
The nation mourned the loss of its bright light
And wept for him who was its finest choice
He left behind a legacy of grace
A leader who had freed a race oppressed
He showed us how to seek a better place
And live according to our highest quest
We honor him as one who shaped our story
A martyr who had paid the highest price
We cherish him as one who gave us glory
A hero who had made the sacrifice
Jun 14, 2023
Jun 14, 2023 at 11:15 PM UTC
Not Nimrod's wealth, nor faith of Abraham,
Both here and there, defeated's what I am.
Sep 13, 2022
Sep 13, 2022 at 12:27 PM UTC
His attention, caught,
and dropped from excitement, then --
she picked up the shards.
Feb 11, 2022
Feb 11, 2022 at 3:30 AM UTC
Lincoln died today
He hustled to an early grave
After patience bore the pain of hell
One final bullet to his dismay
Robbed him of the end he craved
Not of time or the sullen knell
But the kiss of a dagger in his worn hand
A battle lost and a battle won
A perdition purged a new ring rung
He's left this hollowed land
Consecrated by blood and gun
And travels now to songs unsung
Aug 12, 2021
Aug 12, 2021 at 9:16 PM UTC
These are poems about Ann Rutledge and her romantic relationship with Abraham Lincoln.
Winter Thoughts of Ann Rutledge
by Michael R. Burch
Winter was not easy,
nor would the spring return.
I knew you by your absence,
as men are wont to burn
with strange indwelling fire —
such longings you inspire!
But winter was not easy,
nor would the sun relent
from sculpting ****** images
and how could I repent?
I left quaint offerings in the snow,
more maiden than I care to know.
Ann Rutledge’s Irregular Quilt
by Michael R. Burch
based on “Lincoln the Unknown” by Dale Carnegie
I.
Her fingers “plied the needle” with “unusual swiftness and art”
till Abe knelt down beside her: then her demoralized heart
set Eros’s dart a-quiver; thus a crazy quilt emerged:
strange stitches all a-kilter, all patterns lost. (Her host
kept her vicarious laughter barely submerged.)
II.
Years later she’d show off the quilt with its uncertain stitches
as evidence love undermines men’s plans and women’s strictures
(and a plethora of scriptures.)
III.
But O the sacred tenderness Ann’s reckless stitch contains
and all the world’s felicities: rich cloth, for love’s fine gains,
for sweethearts’ tremulous fingers and their bright, uncertain vows
and all love’s blithe, erratic hopes (like now’s).
IV.
Years later on a pilgrimage, by tenderness obsessed,
Dale Carnegie, drawn to her grave, found weeds in her place of rest
and mowed them back, revealing the spot of the Railsplitter’s joy and grief
(and his hope and his disbelief).
V.
For such is the tenderness of love, and such are its disappointments.
Love is a book of rhapsodic poems. Love is an grab bag of ointments.
Love is the finger poised, the smile, the Question — perhaps the Answer?
Love is the pain of betrayal, the two left feet of the dancer.
VI.
There were ladies of ill repute in his past. Or so he thought. Was it true?
And yet he loved them, Ann (sweet Ann!), as tenderly as he loved you.
Ann Rutledge was Abraham Lincoln’s first love interest. Unfortunately, she was engaged to another man when they met, then died with typhoid fever at age 22. According to a friend, Isaac Cogdal, when asked if he had loved her, Lincoln replied: “It is true—true indeed I did. I loved the woman dearly and soundly: She was a handsome girl—would have made a good, loving wife… I did honestly and truly love the girl and think often, often of her now.”
Ann Rutledge’s grave marker in Petersburg, Illinois, contains a poem written by Edgar Lee Masters in which she is “Beloved of Abraham Lincoln, / Wedded to him, not through union, / But through separation.”
Ann Rutledge’s original grave at Old Concord, once neglected, has a fairly new marker provided by her family. One side of the maker, along with her name and dates, reads: “Where Lincoln Wept.” An account popularized by William Herndon in his biography is that Lincoln was so distraught by Ann’s death that he knelt and wept at her grave. On the reverse side of the marker is carved “I cannot bear to think of her out there alone in the storm. A. Lincoln.”
Herndon was Lincoln’s law partner and a friend. He also attended poetry readings with Lincoln, who wrote poems himself. Lincoln called Herndon "my man always above all other men on the globe."
Following Lincoln's assassination, Herndon began collecting accounts of Lincoln's life from people who knew him. Herndon wanted to write a faithful portrait of his friend, based on the hundreds of letters and interviews he had compiled, plus his own recollections. He was determined to present Lincoln as the man he actually was, not as a romanticized national hero and saint, and this meant revealing things other biographers would omit or elide, due to the puritanical conventions of that day. Such details included Lincoln’s suicidal depression and his contentious relationship with his wife, Mary Todd Lincoln. And Herndon maintained that Ann Rutledge was Lincoln’s only true love.
Keywords/Tags: Ann Rutledge, Abraham Lincoln, poem, poems, poetry, love, lover, mistress, paramour, romance, romantic, quilt, grave, Dale Carnegie, William Herndon
Oct 25, 2020
Oct 25, 2020 at 10:42 PM UTC
Know your promises!
Hold them in your heart
Count them by the night
As they shine to the dark
For as many as you can see
All those little stars
Delight in the waiting
For your joy to come
Sep 29, 2020
Sep 29, 2020 at 3:05 PM UTC
on the day of the double funeral I stand
waiting for the rest of me to die,
I am that I am but I harbor a bad disease.
i should be anywhere and be doing anything other
than what i am.
because before Abraham was i am
standing in the empty quarter
reading a funeral manual on the
day of the double sky burial.
i’m poisoned off my pouch of yesterday’s mana.
gums are bleeding this is yesterday’s daily bread.
men cannot live off bread alone
and the jackrabbit horde is coming home
our own locust plague for a new Sahara.
i stand with a hangman’s fracture
lost on the old sermons in the sand.
following my family’s footsteps sadly in the wrong direction,
lost among the marking rocks.
snow leopards of the black blizzard and
my poison pouch of mana.
drowning in the fires we cook a stray dog
reaping all the whirlwinds I sound a 12 foot Tibetan horn
on the day of a double funeral -
perched in the dwelling of the solitude.
Aug 1, 2020
Aug 1, 2020 at 1:05 PM UTC
#*Mammonite pretender, see the Khazar:
Out of place in the Biblical bazaar;
Fattening his financial calf of gold
Maintaining clueless goyim bought and sold*.
Abram the nomad mixed milk with his meat
Walked the Fertile Crescent on his own feet;
Summoned from the Chaldees, uncircumcised
Long before that temple was realized.
From Babylon to Egypt, passing through,
Jerusalem came briefly into view.
He lived. He walked right out of the Archaic
To shatter every legalist’s mosaic.
Beholding now God’s current Middle East,
(Collective funeral more than wedding feast)
The Bedouin seem to model more the way:
hospitable intents at close of day.
Four hundred years would pass before they saw
That wilderness of Sinai and the Law;
Commandments Moses knew could never save.
We judge them by accounts their Torah gave:
Twelve generations later . . . what a joke.
The righteousness consumed in holy smoke
As Israel descended, worse than Cain,
to civil wars on Sodom’s fruitless plain.
In Judges we behold the steep descent
Read well the signs. Be warned—and then repent.
A scene for every Judaistic dream:
Depravity is worse than it may seem.
Your concubine, dismembered at your door,
May light the shortened fuse of civil war.
Apr 27, 2020
Apr 27, 2020 at 4:07 PM UTC
In the beginning God parted the waters,
separating heaven and earth
Abraham parted the pieces,
and a smoking fiery *** passed in between
Israel walked between the waters,
covered in smoke and fire
So Israel parted in two:
one remains and the other lost.
Apr 12, 2020
Apr 12, 2020 at 1:30 AM UTC
ashima abraham
teenage girl
needed love
desperately
she thought the reason for her
despair might been her longing
while her longing was nothing but
normal and the origin of her
despair might been
fear
one day she met an older guy
his name **** black he a
forensic officer
investigators like him look for
traces under dead body's fingernails
stuff like that
until ashima met **** her
love was exclusively reserved to
her pitbull
his name was branko
a fearsome creature
Nov 19, 2019
Nov 19, 2019 at 5:27 PM UTC
Circum/stances (slash) foregone
circumvent forebears
circus-schisms of the forefathers
circumferences foreordained . . .
Abrahamic inferences
Feminine foreclosures
Unfabulous infibulations
Equivocating equivalencies . . .
Childbearing foreborne
Preposterous paradigm
Gender agenda return to sender
Hebraic / Pharaonic / Moronic . . .
Abracadabra
Presto change-o !
Apr 27, 2018
Apr 27, 2018 at 10:08 PM UTC
"Stress is caused by being ‘here’ but wanting to be ‘there’"
that's how a German author defines stress.
I read this quote
and write it down
in that tab I open
secretly at work
to avoid being
seen by my boss.
That tab,
that lives like a refugee,
like everything I like.
Buddha whispers to my ear,
-Attachment is the root of suffering-
with his funny accent
-The richest man is not he who has the most, but he who needs the least.-
I call into question
my arms race
against myself.
That cold war that started years ago
and never ended.
Yahve sets a
bush on fire
on the park
and talks to me.
He talks about
the promised land.
The same land he once promised
to Abraham,
to Isaac,
to Jacob,
to Moises,
to my grandparent,
to my parents.
And I then remember,
I am also a part of this exodus.
-the end justifies the means-
I repeat this to myself,
like a mantra,
trying to convince myself
as I see the parts of me
being left in the path.
The goal blends
into the horizon
like a mirage.
I see how other boys
come closer.
They are younger,
and run faster,
and better.
And I once was
one of those boys,
ready to run for days.
Privileged.
My parents ensure
my path has less rocks
and that my wall
(that wall people who run long distances know)
was lower and softer.
I see the corpses in the path
of the persons who weren't even able to see
the end.
My life is a constant wanting
to reach those lands
while I hate the desert
under my feet.
May 26, 2017
May 26, 2017 at 10:43 AM UTC
whenever I say it
your name feels
like what I imagine
the drop of water would taste like
to the rich man in hell asking Abraham
to just dip his tongue in
to ease the burning
Apr 29, 2017
Apr 29, 2017 at 8:30 PM UTC
Standing
alone
Darkness
and flame
Devoured
his soul
Crippled
and maim
Losing
his mind
as shadows
take over
Losing
all luck
like a small
four-leaf clover
Consumed
by fire,
turning
to ash
A fool
with bounty
turned in
for cash
Betrayed,
back-stabbed
and left
to die
"You were
ignorant
Now you wonder
why...?"
"You trusted
too quickly
Trampled on
Used
Demotivated
Attacked
Demoralised
Abused"
"You wanted
out
but got dragged
back in
Trying
to shout
but end up
in sin"
"One day
there was
a pure
little child
who, when
he passed you
always smiled
Until
the day
he stood
in the meadow
A flame
appeared
Engulfed him
in shadow
Smoke,
impure
as black
as death
destroyed
his body
like crystal
****
It looked
to him
like help
arrived
And so
into
the flames
he dived
For a
short while
he took
comfort
until
he saw
he had been
hurt"
His body
turned
into a
crisp
His soul
into a
will-o-wisp
Existed
in
this world
no more
Burnt
it all -
to his
core
until
he had
to eventually
succumb
to the freedom
of drugs
which made him
numb
He lost
his sense
of feeling -
pain
No longer
could he,
greatness
attain
His life
was turned
round 'n
round
until he
wound up
in the
ground
Mentally
- emotionally -
lost,
distorted
Physically
beat
body
contorted
Stuffed
in a hole
Forgotten
about
His very
existence,
a topic
of doubt
Lost in a
world
of shadow
and pain
Where the one
source of light
is the one thing
that drains
Despite
the blazing
flames'
heat
his body -
stiffed
in icy
defeat
A light
so dark
it dis-
emboweled
a kid
who now
from centre
howled
Whose body
was now
completely
disfigured
Whose soul
became
utterly
dismembered
Devoured
by
cannibal -
butcher
He lost
the way
towards
a future
Smog
and smoke
that cloud
his sight
He ended
up
upon a
great height
He knew
that he
had lost
the fight
Below him
was
an ocean
of white
His only option
was to
fall
For there was
no way
to, down
crawl
He stood
staring
at his
defeat
The oceans
were to
about, him
eat
A soft,
sweet land
up in
the sky
Until
you fall
right through
and die
By water
or by
solid
ground
His fate
and soul
were now
unbound
The white
turned to
a sinister
grey
This was
to be
his final
day
And then
to black
did they
then changed
He knew
that this
would be
a dange'
A scorching,
deep flame
from it
arose
And just
like magma
on earth
flows
And like
Abraham
before
the king
But in
contrast
this fire
will cling
And no
small ant
will come
him save
No place
for him
to find
safe have'
A leap
of faith
over
the cliff
His body
turning
lame
from stiff
"Avoid
the flame
into
the river"
His strong
life-force
now slowly
wither
Trying
to hold
the land
in the sky
He thought
to himself
"I'm too young
to die"
As slowly
through clouds
his body
fell
Into
the flames -
the pit
of hell
And like
Moses
before
the sea
Except
that he
would drown
and be
lost
to thought
and mem-
ory
He wanted
to
die eas-
ily
And like
Lot's wife
who turned
on back
Instead
of coals
It was
haze - black
That turned
him back
into
the dust
"This 's what
I get
for over-
trust"
His life
will end
in a
swift fall
The fire
which
promises
all -
The world,
money,
drugs
and fame.
But
truthfully
it is
just flame
He trusted
it
and let
them steal
all his
life
seemed-innocent
deal
Filled
with regret
as slowly
he sinks
It will
be over
soon 's he
blinks
Fading
Dying
It's time
to go
They took
it all
but just
for show
He was then
placed
6-feet
under
and from
the world
did they
him sunder
Dec 6, 2016
Dec 6, 2016 at 3:09 PM UTC
While Abraham was binding Isaac
to Mount Moriah he was interrupted by
a knock at the door.
"Who could this be?" he thought.
"We don't even own a door," he cried.
So he continued binding Isaac to the
altar. Again, a knock that could make
the deaf hear. Abraham had to stop
and look for the door.
He yelled, "Leave me alone, I'm doing
God's work!" and returned to continue
the akedah. And again a knock interrupted
him, and again, and again---Abraham
did not know what to do, whether to laugh
or to cry.
And then he thought: "This will be
the history of my children. When we will
be doing our work or God's work there will
always come a knock at the door to interrupt
us...whether we own a door or not." And
it came to pass that the history of the Jews
is a history of interruptions.
Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 3:37 PM UTC
The first time I heard it
I was young, so it's hazy
but even back then
I knew dat **** was crazy.
God said, Abraham!
u my chosen one!
so if ya wanna get some love,
just **** your son!
What!?
That's ****** up!
I knew it even then.
But what was scary were the grown-ups
all screamin' "AMEN!"
It got worse still
and this part was sick!
If Abe wanted Heaven,
he had to cut his ****
Now, I was worried!
My brain was in whirl!
It's the only time I ever wished
I was a girl!
Now that I'm a man
I'm glad I didn't crack.
I got the **** Out
with my mind and ****
INTACT!
Apr 7, 2014
Apr 7, 2014 at 12:37 AM UTC