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#alabaster
A jumbling of thoughts, mingled smooth, then rough again. Disordered restraint. Alabaster frost Tingling sidekicks swagger on... Smoldering embers None would ever guess Vivid intentions plow on, Angels set the tone.
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Jan 12
Jan 12, 2026 at 5:39 PM UTC
Countless Mem'ries
when clouds are small patches of these quilted cumuli only high pressure from the seven seas if this summer breeze wilts with a shower then their dusky hours till dawn sequestered thus in alabaster
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Jun 27, 2018
Jun 27, 2018 at 9:25 AM UTC
ties & pressures
words spit dancer am i swear to me your queendom how come ing mother lies in stains her sheets clung to that am i scent get away from me mother can you not see that we have grown mad what mother we can barely hear you through these am i shapes roll up your sleeve mother hide the snot from underneath what have you done mother will you womb ever escape me answer me mother come child from under your defenses what are these but painful memories relax my son lay on the tides what mother mother mother answer me mother i's from ? ... .. .
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Jan 30, 2018
Jan 30, 2018 at 9:55 AM UTC
i's from
She came from a broken family Which had nothing to eat As an early age she discovered She could offer her body for bread Shame dominated her existence As day after day she prostituted herself Being good in her profession She earned a reputation One day she saw a Stranger And she could not help but wonder The Man had a way with people And spoke words like salve to the soul Several days had past Yet He was all she could think about She knew the Man had awakened something Could it be Love? When she heard that the Teacher was invited to a Pharisee’s house She decided she would go just to see the Teacher In her clothing she tucked an alabaster box Then went quickly to the Pharisee’s house There she witnessed how the Pharisee showed no respect The Teacher received nothing upon entering the house Neither handshake nor kiss, nor basin of water to clean the feet Not even an oil to refresh His head His humiliation so reminiscent of her own The ********** could not help but throw herself to Him There she began to kiss His feet Washed it with her tears and wiped it with her hair Soon the woman reached into her garment From it revealed the alabaster box From this box she pulled a flask of expensive perfume And poured the fragrant oil on the feet of Jesus Her perfume, her primary form of advertisement and shame, was now gone Compelled by the Love she had never known until the present moment She gave up the primary means of her occupation The aroma once meant to allure now become an aroma of worship
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Jul 4, 2017
Jul 4, 2017 at 4:02 AM UTC
Alabaster Box
She came from a broken family Which had nothing to eat As an early age she discovered She could offer her body for bread Shame dominated her existence As day after day she prostituted herself Being good in her profession She earned a reputation One day she saw a Stranger And she could not help but wonder The Man had a way with people And spoke words like salve to the soul Several days had past Yet He was all she could think about She knew the Man had awakened something Could it be Love? When she heard that the Teacher was invited to a Pharisee’s house She decided she would go just to see the Teacher In her clothing she tucked an alabaster box Then went quickly to the Pharisee’s house There she witnessed how the Pharisee showed no respect The Teacher received nothing upon entering the house Neither handshake nor kiss, nor basin of water to clean the feet Not even an oil to refresh His head His humiliation so reminiscent of her own The ********** could not help but throw herself to Him There she began to kiss His feet Washed it with her tears and wiped it with her hair Soon the woman reached into her garment From it revealed the alabaster box From this box she pulled a flask of expensive perfume And poured the fragrant oil on the feet of Jesus Her perfume, her primary form of advertisement and shame, was now gone Compelled by the Love she had never known until the present moment She gave up the primary means of her occupation The aroma once meant to allure now become an aroma of worship
Continue reading...
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Church bells ring of voices silenced a darkened Moon is hanging low crickets stop to hear the empty as loving waters overflow As angels call in voices singing notify my heart goodbye as deafened ears are opened up no more tears are left to cry Dying leaves, a crimson carpet indigo ink at levied banks waters flood my aching heartbeat raising hands to you in thanks Cloaking eyes, I'm in the shadows petitioning  you another dance whispering the coming reaper if only I could have a chance Softly come draped in darkness ebony casts a ghostly glow lovely bones in alabaster putting on a secret show Taking off the heavy waiting holding down my paper heart a poets voice cannot be silenced by ticking hands you pushed apart Silver tears they fall in quiet in rivers taken right or wrong releasing me & painful weighting and sing me as I come along Violins they speak so mellow calling me as I go home morning comes a glowing ember left for you an Earthly loam As the leaves outside are falling and thickened air bids me farewell whispering of my departure & secrets I may never tell although in this... you mustn't dwell Waving you off in slow motion blinking lashes bid adieu darkened cloakroom, veiling... hiding memories of loving you the only love I really wanted the one I never... really knew. Cherie Nolan © 2016
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Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 12:36 PM UTC
"Lovely Alabaster Bones"
when I speak I speak only of love. when I breathe I breathe in the curiosity of sin. when I exhale --I exhale the beauty of living. as I wander in the darkness of life I seek out the extraordinaries. when in doubt I somehow find that the darkness and light collide. even the best fall down, the stars shine even when they don't want to, so why can't I. life is full of wonders, I will find them one by one, hundreds of hundreds, I will find why life is worthwhile.
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Jan 10, 2016
Jan 10, 2016 at 9:22 PM UTC
Alabaster
IN the divine frenzy of that moment, when they met each other first, as predicted, she pulled him down over her,for eons together, on the marble step they just passed each other. Both froze, trapped in a time wrap, within a moment as a sculpture in alabaster. A somnambulist sculpturer,with a wild imagination, claimed it as his master piece, oblivious of the facts! The cosmos is only a thought,like a flowing river reaching to the ocean of eternity, if you would remember. Every imagination, at a point becomes real, memory, happenings, gains and loss all look the same as one goes on. Every one passing the steps up and down, invariably is amazed, wonder still, who this marble couple are, what story they'd tell. The circle, is bound to get completed, a million years after,perhaps,                                                         2 Two butterflies, flying around the sculpture, to see if there is a drop of nectar anywhere,find it on the lips joined,in a kiss eternal, as they taste it together, they did remember a day in the life of universe, A wise silver owl, watching this divine pantomime, flies up, enlightenment strikes hard;on that zen moment, all fall in place!
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Nov 22, 2015
Nov 22, 2015 at 11:24 AM UTC
Zen and the art of immortal love
Love look so good on you; Like, an alabaster offering At the feet of a deity.
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Sep 10, 2014
Sep 10, 2014 at 9:19 PM UTC
Fragrance