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#perseverence
A tiny seed in the dirt has nothing but hope. It has a capacity to become a forest; But it must first endure harsh realities of mother nature. It goes through agonizing moments, a process of growth. A disastrous course of action relating to a disarticulation period. Something has to be birthed into existence. The soil and the seed must be merged. Its ordeals through what looks like rejection. yielded and sacrificed. Tossed into the ground and buried into the soil. The severe heat degree it has to withstand in this silent grave; In this lonesome place with a heavy darkness. The seed must by all means withstand the crushing. It fractures and splits, the shell must crack for the core to take root. Slowly but surely. After days, weeks, months of crushing Just when it was getting comfortable with the tribulations. The seed root must grow deeper, further into the heat of darkness. Before it can strive to reach the light. Just when you are about to quit and abandon watering the seed. It deliberately by design begins to emerge on the surface to taste the sunlight. A taste of victory, a breath of fresh air came at a high cost. The tiny seed made it into the sunshine. From dusk till dawn, it thrives under the sun rays. Joy wouldn’t feel so good if it wasn’t for pain. The tiny seed apocalypse. It persevered for days to become an overnight success. Growth has never been effortless, it requires endurance, a lot of tenacity and resilience. seed time and harvest. ntsako
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May 11
May 11, 2026 at 2:33 PM UTC
A Seed Unveiled
A tiny seed in the dirt has nothing but hope. It has a capacity to become a forest; But it must first endure harsh realities of mother nature. It goes through agonizing moments, a process of growth. A disastrous course of action relating to a disarticulation period. Something has to be birthed into existence. The soil and the seed must be merged. Its ordeals through what looks like rejection. yielded and sacrificed. Tossed into the ground and buried into the soil. The severe heat degree it has to withstand in this silent grave; In this lonesome place with a heavy darkness. The seed must by all means withstand the crushing. It fractures and splits, the shell must crack for the core to take root. Slowly but surely. After days, weeks, months of crushing Just when it was getting comfortable with the tribulations. The seed root must grow deeper, further into the heat of darkness. Before it can strive to reach the light. Just when you are about to quit and abandon watering the seed. It deliberately by design begins to emerge on the surface to taste the sunlight. A taste of victory, a breath of fresh air came at a high cost. The tiny seed made it into the sunshine. From dusk till dawn, it thrives under the sun rays. Joy wouldn’t feel so good if it wasn’t for pain. The tiny seed apocalypse. It persevered for days to become an overnight success. Growth has never been effortless, it requires endurance, a lot of tenacity and resilience. seed time and harvest. ntsako
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32
There are times I turn to the river, when life roils and churns like the rapids, and I remember what the river has always known when it heaves and ebbs, and runs swiftly by, carrying broken branches just as abraded stones appear as polished gems
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Feb 12, 2022
Feb 12, 2022 at 9:39 AM UTC
Abraded
If there is a path I will find it No matter how hidden I am not known to give up
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Jun 30, 2020
Jun 30, 2020 at 10:35 PM UTC
Persevere
I once read a story about an ant who set his mind to move a mountain. An insect, a millimeter from jaw to legtip, laboring against a mass of stone and soil quadrillions of times his size. But he worked and worked and worked moving the bedrock one dram at a time, year after year, season after season, each trip melding into the next in an endless march of mindless labor, until where the mountain once stood, a peaceful valley sank down. All because of the labor of one very determined insect. At the end of the fable, the writer tells us never to give up, for what we choose to work and persevere towards will surely happen if we truly try. As I read the story, I knew he was right. Never give up. Even if it takes a quadrillion trips, 1,000,000,000,000,000 trials, before the mountain bows to you. Even if your small, insectoid mind cracks like a candy-cane under a sandbag, even if you collapse and die after 6 decades of exhaustion, millions more left to go. Never give up. Even if your task is impossible, and it destroys your life, everything you love, everything that makes your little ant-soul tick. Never give up.
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Oct 26, 2018
Oct 26, 2018 at 1:12 PM UTC
Fable
Hello everyone,   I'm so very sorry … I feel horrible doing this, but I have no choice. You see, I have published my first book on Amazon/Kindle! This piece (and many others) had to be taken down because they do not allow published material to be available online for free. (Go figure) I wanted to leave the shell of the posts because I felt compelled to leave all your helpful and loving comments. (Silly sentimental, I know), but I also didn't want to just have the pieces disappear without an explanation. I feel bad enough as it is!   I owe ALL of you so, SO much for all of your reads, love, and support. It was YOU that gave me the gumption to FINALLY get off my **** and publish! Thank you all for the warm comments, camaraderie, and encouragement! I will still be here, reading, uploading and just being the Rascal that I am. How could I EVER leave you guys?   The book is called “The Way I See It – FictionPhilosophySoul Food” and it will be FREE for the first few days on Kindle Select, so watch for it, if you are interested. I hope that you go and grab it. If you do, I would also hope that you find it worthy, you would leave me a good review. That will help me get in the public eye! Soon afterward (2-3 days or so), it will be available in paperback. I will be building my Author page tonight (12/21/2018) and my website finished first thing Monday! Find the book(s) here: www.amazon.com/author/jeff.gaines Or find the book(s), and all about me, here: www.JeffGaines.world   Soon after, I also hope to have my first novel (a supernatural thriller), called “Wanderer” available as well!   Wish me luck! Big, Biggest Love,         Jeff Gaines
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Jun 4, 2018
Jun 4, 2018 at 7:08 AM UTC
Maybe I'm a Dreamer
Hello everyone,   I'm so very sorry … I feel horrible doing this, but I have no choice. You see, I have published my first book on Amazon/Kindle! This piece (and many others) had to be taken down because they do not allow published material to be available online for free. (Go figure) I wanted to leave the shell of the posts because I felt compelled to leave all your helpful and loving comments. (Silly sentimental, I know), but I also didn't want to just have the pieces disappear without an explanation. I feel bad enough as it is!   I owe ALL of you so, SO much for all of your reads, love, and support. It was YOU that gave me the gumption to FINALLY get off my **** and publish! Thank you all for the warm comments, camaraderie, and encouragement! I will still be here, reading, uploading and just being the Rascal that I am. How could I EVER leave you guys?   The book is called “The Way I See It – FictionPhilosophySoul Food” and it will be FREE for the first few days on Kindle Select, so watch for it, if you are interested. I hope that you go and grab it. If you do, I would also hope that you find it worthy, you would leave me a good review. That will help me get in the public eye! Soon afterward (2-3 days or so), it will be available in paperback. I will be building my Author page tonight (12/21/2018) and my website finished first thing Monday! Find the book(s) here: www.amazon.com/author/jeff.gaines Or find the book(s), and all about me, here: www.JeffGaines.world   Soon after, I also hope to have my first novel (a supernatural thriller), called “Wanderer” available as well!   Wish me luck! Big, Biggest Love,         Jeff Gaines
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10
‘’In retrospect all is better; fear not the future to come.’’ ‘’Looking back it all seems like a bad joke. A joke, but still.’’ ‘’The day is 1 December 1995, the day I wanted to die.’’ -2018-
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Jan 12, 2018
Jan 12, 2018 at 5:13 PM UTC
Future Come
This here in my hands is a small stone That I will carry on my own Building a mountain one by one I won't stop until it's done Striving forward my muscles ache What I'm building is not fake I'm building strength, true and free What I am building is a better me A Me that can weather storms and loss towards optimistic progress at whatever the cost A hammer and chisel in my hand From this rock I emerge a self-made man Not just a body but more a mind One that is powerful and fiercely kind Focused on spreading the mindset of its fashion Expand happiness and spread compassion
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Nov 21, 2016
Nov 21, 2016 at 5:39 PM UTC
Small Stone
In the brief day, or rather, the night called Life, dream how easily a speck may be distanced from itself; and how hard also it is to remove that same grain from your proud eye. Look at the lightning over the green corn and learn the virile meaning of our lack of power under the traveling stars. Turn on the lights silver-electric to see in what dark rooms you have dwelt, yet tried to be happy. Open and close your eyes and feel the weird proximity of doll-like death. Talk to the moth and trot the eternal wheel of boredom, tolerated by a life that cannot wait to immolate itself on a fuel lighter for love of the gamble. Come near the heartbeat of an animal and touch your own heart to take the pulse of the planets and experience the split-second hypocrisy of love. Unwrinkle your bones with deep calm and purest feeling, unfurling your reddish hair, and you will bare your heart in all your poems. Pity the mania of poetry and the helplessness of its wisdom to hope or heal or even to dare to come down from its own shiny cross. In spite of all, extinguish any light at its source and you will work in vain to prevent its survival in some remembering soul.
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Sep 20, 2015
Sep 20, 2015 at 3:52 PM UTC
In the brief day, or rather, the night
Tied up, words constricting Woke up, wrong place to live in Now I find myself hustling But I can't keep from tossing in My bed at night Don't want to breathe and I've got to fight With all my might crack the walls And shed some light On the wrong side of the long night persisting Inspite of our Hollywood vinyls And pop star idols 'cause at midnight they bite us And drink our love. Imagine work paid off   And you're never laid off, rough appearance Won't make them scoff What if tough heights didn't last long Or burn so strong, didn't scar your tongue, And good fun wasn't modest Like Bollywood's hottest We'd live the lives loudest That we could be proudest of. We forget it all, they've set it small Well we're all not tall, we just bend down Let them move your limbs in any given position Because life's only A luxurious possession after all.
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Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 11:11 PM UTC
Possessions
I missed you last night. We slept in the same bed but it didn't feel like together. Nothing was said. For a sleeping moment I had my arm around you and my face in your hair, breathing memories of the passion we knew. I try to focus on small things, like how your skin gives way to my pressing lips or, how the Earth would sway with our meeting hips. Remembering the hunger I would feel from your eyes Lamenting these nights while the passion subsides My greatest flame and only goddess, how cruel slow fate has constantly fought us Yet, never will I yield and always shall I fight to claim the dreams we've wanted, to persevere through this night. 4/10/15 ~ 6.23a
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Apr 10, 2015
Apr 10, 2015 at 9:32 AM UTC
Trying so hard
There are lines along the shadows that trace every wall in my room, cast from the sunny days we spent together. The gleam lifting off of the paint hazed our home with peace, and uncertainty in that order. Our hands grew laced in messy knots as twisted sunflower stalks. We basked in the neverending sun and photo synthesized love, the love we shared and the love we swallowed. We devoured rays of light like emperors of the most beautiful gardens, until the masses had no more to give. And I was made to suffer in your eternal scorn for not giving you more, for you believed you were the very hand that fed us. You told me you rose in the east, and set in the west so we could be amassed in our riches. I had nothing left to give you because I gave you everything I had and it was not enough. I just want to be enough to share my days with someone I can feel at home with. Now, I've found that same silver-shine light in the eyes of another who graces the presence of my hands and fills my heart with monarchs of old, with tiny wings fluttering in the gentle air. And I hope to be enough for her. I resent you for the way you used to shut all of the lights off and leave me in the empty rooms of your house while your self centered devotion ran circles around the driveway and pushed me further into the street. I have found someone that I would like to spend my time with. And while I no longer feel anything for you, the damage you have done to me will not fade. I can apply new coats to make the walls shine less, but just knowing of the old paint is enough to make me sick. I can pull up all of the weeds you left among my flowers, but just knowing of the roots is enough to make it feel meaningless. Even if it's not. But this home inside of me is still beautiful, and I will do what I can to restore it.
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Mar 27, 2015
Mar 27, 2015 at 10:08 AM UTC
Repaint / Dig
There are lines along the shadows that trace every wall in my room, cast from the sunny days we spent together. The gleam lifting off of the paint hazed our home with peace, and uncertainty in that order. Our hands grew laced in messy knots as twisted sunflower stalks. We basked in the neverending sun and photo synthesized love, the love we shared and the love we swallowed. We devoured rays of light like emperors of the most beautiful gardens, until the masses had no more to give. And I was made to suffer in your eternal scorn for not giving you more, for you believed you were the very hand that fed us. You told me you rose in the east, and set in the west so we could be amassed in our riches. I had nothing left to give you because I gave you everything I had and it was not enough. I just want to be enough to share my days with someone I can feel at home with. Now, I've found that same silver-shine light in the eyes of another who graces the presence of my hands and fills my heart with monarchs of old, with tiny wings fluttering in the gentle air. And I hope to be enough for her. I resent you for the way you used to shut all of the lights off and leave me in the empty rooms of your house while your self centered devotion ran circles around the driveway and pushed me further into the street. I have found someone that I would like to spend my time with. And while I no longer feel anything for you, the damage you have done to me will not fade. I can apply new coats to make the walls shine less, but just knowing of the old paint is enough to make me sick. I can pull up all of the weeds you left among my flowers, but just knowing of the roots is enough to make it feel meaningless. Even if it's not. But this home inside of me is still beautiful, and I will do what I can to restore it.
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52
I devote my day to you I dress nice for you I show up on time for you I work my plans around you But some days... I ditch you to go hang out with my friends Maybe I forgot to do laundry and wear something ***** I might be late because I overslept My other plans are more important Thank you for being understanding and not giving up on me
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Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 5:04 PM UTC
School
I             wasn't born in a hospital like most children are. I am         made of soft thoughts, but too of hard muscular rivets; steel bars are not         nearly so malleable as my arms. So far, so good, no need to be afraid,    no need to be alone. There's no need to cry in the dark, wishing for home      and a soft bed and warmth and food for my soul. My soul thrives; it is             the howl of the wind on the mountain top; My soul lives in hardship. Where     others tremble, I will not walk alone, because My soul lives in pain The          pretenders; the snakes; the cowards do not sway. Because **My soul is Hard**    Like my muscles, like my heart, like the place where I was born. It is...              funny actually. I wasn't born in a hospital; I was born on the way. **I Was Born Moving Forward.**  and I refuse to move back. Because I am not afraid.
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Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 7:35 PM UTC
Anthem
**I      see** passion, where there was apathy playfulness, where there was tragedy beauty, where there was ugliness pacification, where there was strife acceptance, where there was rejection strength, where there was weakness elation, where there was sorrow certainty, where there was doubt honesty, where there was guile devotion, where there was neglect comfort, where there was suffering peace, where there was bitterness laughter, where there was despair affection, where there was resentment healing, where there was brokeness pleasure, where there was pain light, where there was darkness and **most            importantly** YOU, where there was emptiness
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Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 9:33 AM UTC
Now
Hate me Hate me all you want But still Under no circumstance Do I choose to be a victim
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Aug 23, 2014
Aug 23, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
it is a choice.
Have you ever seen the sun rise After a big fat buffalo's stampede Have you ever seen the sun rise On a big fat salt lake in the West Have you ever seen the moon shine In unison like the stars in heaven Have you ever seen the clouds darken At a speed unmatched by light Have you ever seen the loving eyes Of someone who'd do anything for you Have you ever seen the love People are so eager to give Have you ever stood still To unbind yourself from the biases put before you Have you ever stood still To realize that you are so incredibly small Have you ever stood still That every big person started out small, too Have you ever stood still To love all the details Have you ever stood still To see the beauty all around you Have you ever stood still That you are loved
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Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 7:36 AM UTC
Open your eyes honey