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#pious
Tolling hungrily the hollow bell High in pious belfry hung. Lofty words as pride dictates From deep in cavernous dwellings To keep a doctrine as a young lady Keeps hope of the future Locked in a chest -- The ritual of past and present Notions. Receding line at edge of seaboard Feeding on dry land the Watery grave Filled with borrowed sentiments Adrift. The open sea -- open sores of Prejudice Cut off from inlets of vision and Reason. Preserved as Lenin's body under Glass.
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Dec 27, 2024
Dec 27, 2024 at 10:42 AM UTC
Vain Tradition
Ghostly tombs flourish the deadly spirits, and as they reach purification, their Mother God embalms them with honey bliss, a war of earthquake kiss.
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May 7, 2019
May 7, 2019 at 5:37 AM UTC
Mother God
you portray an image that is religious & your actions are the opposite of pious you advise people on the right things yet disregard it when it’s your own being what am i to say i am no saint i’ve sinned in a lot of ways and i still have not repented to this day but it disturbs me a lot & i cannot push past this thought that you mess with people’s minds and act like you are so fine you can’t just **** around with people then expect them not to get bitter you better hope to God they forgive you so you can peacefully sleep the night through
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Jul 3, 2018
Jul 3, 2018 at 12:19 PM UTC
untitled
My sister is a box of piety, Tied to obedience to her creator,her priority, Wrapped in a hijab,plain and simple, As her way of life,modest and simple. Layered with prayers which are obligatory, And recitation  of the Quran,that too, necessary. There are tightly packed packets of truths followed to the letter, For to lie is to be a sinner. Antidotes abstains her from harmful deeds or pleasure, Fears of incurring His  displeasure. The bandages of her beliefs are so strong, That the path of Almighty does not deter one to do any wrong. To her, beliefs of the wise, Are to feel what is in the heart,say it and act likewise. She has great bundles of charities Connected to different activities, All carried out with sincerities, Be it be  to help a beggar, an orphan or a widow, She is there to wipe their sorrow. She has all the kits for the hereafter, In order to procure heaven ever after.
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Apr 9, 2018
Apr 9, 2018 at 4:50 PM UTC
Pious
A pious man had two daughters beautiful set forth , Till one day he married then off both, one wed the farmer and other wed the potter, the wise man called on them a year after. To the farmer’s wife he asked how she felt, "A lot happy father, only there is one thing I want yet We sowed some seeds and the rains have not made the fields wet", Do not worry dear I'll pray after I have left. As he crossed the fields green, He prayed for the  clouds  to rain. and went to see the other one of his lineage, who lived yonder in the next village,. To the potters wife he asked how she felt, A lot happy father, only there is one thing I want yet, We made some pots and the sun is not as hot as it should get, The wise man sat up and soon he went out and left. Under the big tree.. he knelt down and prayed Asked His forgiveness, uttering these words as he raved, O Lord.. thou are the only one to know what to do, The wisest of all, thou only  knows what is the best..!" This is a story narrated to me by my mentor (Moula)..longtime ago and I only gave it a shape of a poem. Before this I had posted  it on my Multiply blog. (By: Khan, BA..01-1-2017)
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Nov 2, 2017
Nov 2, 2017 at 6:59 AM UTC
Two Daughters..
As the cries of the captives are left unanswered So will the prayers of the pious be forever met with silence As the pleadings of the warrior abandoned forlorn are met with indifference So will the oblations of pretensions be met only with scorn As the words of the prophet that the famine soon would be lifted were met with callous unbelief So will those gatekeepers be trampled in the stampede of the multitudes who seek God's relief For those who have ears So let them care For those who have none Let their eyes in death coldly and everlasting stare For the words of God's wisdom are life to the dieing They are surely for the self-righteous precious pearls before swine -R. (06) -TX
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Sep 10, 2017
Sep 10, 2017 at 2:38 PM UTC
-Hear the Cry
do you think cloaks of normalcy societal smiles wash away reality - that screens pulled close pious veils drawn means all is well - that children next door from 'respectable' homes aren't used like so much spoil displayed with polish to the highest bidder - what tales do you keep to sleep at night in perfumed air - 'it's far away some hapless child not where I drive with tinted glass they're lower class don't know the Lord mere runts down town where father drinks can't pay their rent make decent wage so sell the kid for sordid nights - - n - o - it happens to tender buds in wealthy suites and poorer shacks in any place and every age from dot to grown they stay unseen stare at their sums are ***** this night sob off to sleep as mother too walks right on by deaf to the screams he wants his due so he will take her brother too 'now be a man' says worm to prince he lies to all most to his face and no one sees and no one hears the silent screams with veil drawn close they look askance and walk on by
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Sep 2, 2017
Sep 2, 2017 at 12:10 AM UTC
with veil drawn
No. 1 there is a pane of glass which now occupies the air between us an indifferent arrow has flown through it leaving a web of cracks for which I am trapped reaching for you No. 2 the light you bend reaches across room the same distance travels your voice it makes me a ghost not to touch you with all that I am exhaling wanting in your direction as stars are brought down over head by the weight of unfulfilled wishes No. 3 victim to a whisper pious to an echo tomorrow I'll be swallowed I didn't even need a name lost and unwanted things are entitled to each other so long as they don't hide no. 4 it's an open hand it's a broken window it's a perpetually naive sky it's off beat but we're out of line and I'm waiting for you one hundred percent of the time no. 5 out of context misshapened in parallax past my expiration date but you looked at me in a way that dared both of us to exist when all this is dust the loudest we'll ever get to be is a secret
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May 18, 2015
May 18, 2015 at 4:08 AM UTC
Gardened Languor
I often think of how you must have felt on that eventful day it must have caused such turmoil in your mind. You preach of love and loyalty to your father up above but there was no one who treated you in kind. Instead you battled prejudice from those you deem to love, a love that was not plied upon to you, disloyalty was so pronounce you must of looked to God above but towards your flock no sediment did stew. Of those you taught, who turned away announcing they new not this good and holy prophet in his hour of need. Allowing all and sundry to pronounce throughout the land, that to eradicate this man they should indeed. Your followers fled from you in fear for their own, should they be of preference to gain? They watched as humiliation and defacement were applied and refused upon direction to utter out your name. It was not until you died upon the crucifix that day did your followers decide to turn and face the torrents flow and pronounce to one and all of the mistake that they had made by announcement of their Lord that they did know.
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Sep 3, 2014
Sep 3, 2014 at 9:30 AM UTC
Pious Disgrace