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#adjust
It is no measure Of good health To be well adjusted To a profoundly Sick society
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Mar 7, 2025
Mar 7, 2025 at 1:21 AM UTC
Aegrus
Breathe in, breathe out, a gentle flow, Shifts in posture, let the tension go. Adjust the level, find your place, Acceptance blooms in this sacred space. Pain may linger, but here we stand, With open hearts and open hands. Acceptance goes a long, long way, In this place, we find our stay.
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Jan 13, 2025
Jan 13, 2025 at 2:33 PM UTC
Breathe In, Breathe Out
It takes STEP BY STEP, You don't have to RUSH, Just take your TIME, POSITIVITY IS A PLUS!!! Just go about it GRADUALLY, and Take it DAY BY DAY, If you keep this up then, You will be on your MERRY WAY!!! JUST TAKE THINGS SLOWLY, and IN DEGREES, Once you have ADJUSTED, you WILL FEEL AT EASE. It will be MELLOW and It will BE A BREEZE, You got it now, and YOU AIM TO PLEASE!!! BE COURAGEOUS and ENCOURAGE YOURSELF, YOU HAVE ONE BODY, and HEALTH IS WEALTH!!! JUST DON'T GIVE UP, THIS IS A SLOW PROGRESS, IF YOU CONTINUE LIKE THIS, YOU WILL ACHIEVE SUCCESS!!!! B.R. Date: 1/4/2025
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Jan 4, 2025
Jan 4, 2025 at 6:36 PM UTC
Step-by-Step
www.firesermon.com by Michael R. Burch your gods have become e-vegetation; your saints—pale thumbnail icons; to enlarge their images, right-click; it isn’t hard to populate your web-site; not to mention cool sound effects are nice; Sound Blaster cards can liven up dull sermons, [zing some fire]; your drives need added Zip; you must discard your balky paternosters: *** Desire!!! these are the watchwords, catholic; you must as Yahoo! did, employ a little lust :) if you want great e-commerce; hire a bard to spruce up ancient language, shed the dust of centuries of sameness;                                             lameness ***** your gods grew blurred; go 3D; scale; adjust. Published by Ironwood, Triplopia and Nisqually Delta Review. This poem pokes fun at several stages of "religion," all tied into Eliot's "Fire Sermon," albeit elliptically. (1) The Celts believed that the health of the land was tied to the health of its king. The Fisher King's land was in peril because he had an infirmity (lameness, infertility, it really didn't matter in those days). One bad harvest and it was the king's fault for displeasing the gods. A religious icon (the Grail) could somehow rescue him. Strange logic! (2) The next stage brings us the saints, the Catholic church, etc. Millions are slaughtered, tortured and enslaved in the name of religion. Strange logic! (3) The next stage brings us to Darwin, modernism and "The Waste Land.” Religion is dead. God is dead. Man is a glorified fungus! Long live Darwin! We'll evolve into something better adapted to life on Earth, someday (if we don’t destroy it first). But what do we have now, except a hangover? Strange logic! (4) The current stage of religion is perhaps summed up by this e-mail: the only way religion can compete today is as a form of flashy entertainment. ***** a website before it's too late! Keywords/Tags: god, gods, religion, saints, icons, images, imagery, update, scale, adjust
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Apr 9, 2020
Apr 9, 2020 at 5:14 AM UTC
www.firesermon.com
www.firesermon.com by Michael R. Burch your gods have become e-vegetation; your saints—pale thumbnail icons; to enlarge their images, right-click; it isn’t hard to populate your web-site; not to mention cool sound effects are nice; Sound Blaster cards can liven up dull sermons, [zing some fire]; your drives need added Zip; you must discard your balky paternosters: *** Desire!!! these are the watchwords, catholic; you must as Yahoo! did, employ a little lust :) if you want great e-commerce; hire a bard to spruce up ancient language, shed the dust of centuries of sameness;                                             lameness ***** your gods grew blurred; go 3D; scale; adjust. Published by Ironwood, Triplopia and Nisqually Delta Review. This poem pokes fun at several stages of "religion," all tied into Eliot's "Fire Sermon," albeit elliptically. (1) The Celts believed that the health of the land was tied to the health of its king. The Fisher King's land was in peril because he had an infirmity (lameness, infertility, it really didn't matter in those days). One bad harvest and it was the king's fault for displeasing the gods. A religious icon (the Grail) could somehow rescue him. Strange logic! (2) The next stage brings us the saints, the Catholic church, etc. Millions are slaughtered, tortured and enslaved in the name of religion. Strange logic! (3) The next stage brings us to Darwin, modernism and "The Waste Land.” Religion is dead. God is dead. Man is a glorified fungus! Long live Darwin! We'll evolve into something better adapted to life on Earth, someday (if we don’t destroy it first). But what do we have now, except a hangover? Strange logic! (4) The current stage of religion is perhaps summed up by this e-mail: the only way religion can compete today is as a form of flashy entertainment. ***** a website before it's too late! Keywords/Tags: god, gods, religion, saints, icons, images, imagery, update, scale, adjust
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18
We are not just aiming creatures, but also changing creatures Ever moving steadily offwards Acting only when we want to be, or time compels us to be more Some think, some feel, some find their way in the formidable dark Some ponder and abhor the sight But creatures we are nonetheless, in ever undoubted outline Stark is our contrast Night is our eyesight And burning is our ambition bright
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Jan 1, 2020
Jan 1, 2020 at 7:16 PM UTC
The Changing, Aiming, Ever
“He is the ocean in my life while I am a single drop in his. He is the sun in my sky while I am the breeze that goes by unnoticed. He is the moon that guides me at night, while I am nothing but the darkness in his life. Excitement pulsates when he texts, but not a pulse more when I text. For I am just like the other girls he talks to; just one of them when he is the only one for me. Happiness rushes through my veins and nerves feel a gentle tickle in his presence. I feel everything deeply; pain and happiness when it comes to him, while he feels nothing. Sacrificing, asking, encouraging, adjusting and compromising when it’s never the same. He never runs when I slip away, but I stay when he walks away. I feel like I am chasing him; on a constant run for him to care. But he doesn’t care about me, as much as I care about him; and that hurts deeply than I ever thought it would.” - excerpt from an open letter
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Jul 24, 2019
Jul 24, 2019 at 11:22 AM UTC
Prose: Unrequited Love
The night came like to the woman in white like thunder, but it was unlike any dream she had ever seen before. Nothing could compare to this. Nothing could compare to this scale, this intense freedom. She kept running She walked into a kind looking abyss And still there was a new way of living that tore her away. From her current reality What a dream she thought, what a confusing, chaotic dream. Losing and finding it all at - once - She looked up Wiped the tears and sweat A thought caught her by surprise, This is magical beyond all desires.
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Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 3:46 PM UTC
Allow Change
*Welcome change Embrace its embrace And you will grow new In spite of the length Of your shadowy face Because long is the short Of the time in this place And though changes are made At a self-perceived pace We are meant to endure We are meant to take place Would you welcome the change? In all of it's uncomfortable embrace*
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Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 9:06 AM UTC
Embrace
My chin is ****** in the piles of plastic cups After nibbling myself out, the tables are bused Onward unlatching, mussed my steady cause- she was seducing my balance, I had to adjust She dented concrete when sussed She saw my incision and continuously cut She saw my face when her description didn't fit To be weak, anemic, and homeless I admit it Now that my leash is leaking out of the tub I'll remain spiraling like when in cuffs
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Jan 25, 2017
Jan 25, 2017 at 11:21 PM UTC
Balance
If distance can be maintained then relation be sustained With sincerity of heart real balance can be attained With mutual trust and respect objective can be obtained This is how lost glory by people can just be regained Great people and great nations are product of real trust All rascals and mean like watery bubbles are to burst Polluted minds are to rust ,with being notorious go to dust Blessed ones are rewarded meanest are required to adjust Let us march on the path which is for honest leads to glory This is the only approach which from servitude makes free For sheer honest action we never ever need to have valid plea Men with clean and clear actions should definitely be pretty Col Muhammad Khalid Khan Copyright 2016 Golden Glow
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Nov 9, 2016
Nov 9, 2016 at 3:21 AM UTC
Meanest To Adjust
Don't be scared because it suddenly changed Don't be mad because it's not the same Everything changes Even the spring that past in seconds Even the a year that contains seasons Even the fire that burns the quickest Even the star that shines the brightest
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Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 9:56 AM UTC
Change of Season