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#reconciliation
Loud like the explosion That leaves shockwaves Felt far and wide Bright like the fireworks On the Fourth of July Two worlds collide And it's only the Start of the war And we're both Caught in the middle Of the storm Wondering who Will survive it all Wondering who Will be the first To stand tall Passion moves Like the past, Present, and tense Of lovers Who once Took the fall Before the puzzle Completed Before the pieces Fell into place And made sense One from the past The other from The present Both dying To seek Both dying To dream Of solving The conflict A treaty Of decisions That must Be made Before both Can keep A level head Or risk falling Under And watching The light Fade thin It's only up To them To choose How today Will end Back and forth, The explosions Dance in the sky Reaching the eye Of the storm One more time And in the midst Of it all It isn't a race It isn't the start Of a cold war It's the start Of a new life A new chapter Of a love once Forgotten Fighting for The hope Of a new start Of a life Together The kind They always Wanted
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May 18
May 18, 2026 at 3:29 AM UTC
Eye of the Storm
(‘You prepare a table before me in the presence of my enemies’ - Ps 23) The Lord’s Table, prepared in the presence of our differences, somewhere where we can sit side by side, or possibly face to face, with nowhere to hide - only separated by breads and fruits and meats and wine, taking our hands from our swords, and raising them, not in anger, but to toast the opportunity for respite, perchance to peace replacing the clash of blades with the meeting of cups filled from the same jars – a miracle of sorts.
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Mar 7
Mar 7, 2026 at 6:19 AM UTC
Before my enemies
How often do we live our lives And barely show the fathers grace Spout our mouths and speak out of place And say our vocabulary is meant for us to survive On this trial period we call Earth? To defend our friends behavior because love blinds Righteousness To cast aside prejudice, but tolerate blasphemy for togetherness To dress for the masses, act in their classes, to fit in like a puzzle piece We ruin his perfect plan acting unwise, throw feces over his masterpiece Did we forget his birth? To galivant with paint dominating our lifestyle A flag we hold to our heart, and forget his sacrifice? Millions love us on this very planet But we have no access to heaven's facet? Does all we do, have any worth? I envy the old, steadfast in their faith Seen as bigoted and harsh, yet certain of their fate To be spat on, hated, slandered and told to burn And yet deep in their hearts they still seek and yearn The heavenly father, Christ almighty, having experienced a Rebirth Faith comes with time, but the world doesn't hold it's punches The kindest souls, mislead by their idols and Satan holds them in bunches Rather comfortable amongst sinners of love than Christians of judgment I sympathies for people who say that Jesus has no substance Cause long ago, I too believed he should accept us, as we are But he loves us all as we are, but wishes for our sins to be cast far He isn't the man with a red halo, that sends us to the depths of hell And Christ is willing to get you out of this dry spell He isn't the hypocrite in the pulpit demanding your deeds get your right Nor the online persona speaking only good news and lulling your justified doubt to sleep He loves the homeless, the criminals, the lost and the ****** And rather you find peace in heaven, than be in hell crammed He wants your soul and conversation more than your ritual A love that shows 2 ways, and doesn't become habitual It becomes Willing.
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Feb 28
Feb 28, 2026 at 7:28 PM UTC
Christ Willing
How often do we live our lives And barely show the fathers grace Spout our mouths and speak out of place And say our vocabulary is meant for us to survive On this trial period we call Earth? To defend our friends behavior because love blinds Righteousness To cast aside prejudice, but tolerate blasphemy for togetherness To dress for the masses, act in their classes, to fit in like a puzzle piece We ruin his perfect plan acting unwise, throw feces over his masterpiece Did we forget his birth? To galivant with paint dominating our lifestyle A flag we hold to our heart, and forget his sacrifice? Millions love us on this very planet But we have no access to heaven's facet? Does all we do, have any worth? I envy the old, steadfast in their faith Seen as bigoted and harsh, yet certain of their fate To be spat on, hated, slandered and told to burn And yet deep in their hearts they still seek and yearn The heavenly father, Christ almighty, having experienced a Rebirth Faith comes with time, but the world doesn't hold it's punches The kindest souls, mislead by their idols and Satan holds them in bunches Rather comfortable amongst sinners of love than Christians of judgment I sympathies for people who say that Jesus has no substance Cause long ago, I too believed he should accept us, as we are But he loves us all as we are, but wishes for our sins to be cast far He isn't the man with a red halo, that sends us to the depths of hell And Christ is willing to get you out of this dry spell He isn't the hypocrite in the pulpit demanding your deeds get your right Nor the online persona speaking only good news and lulling your justified doubt to sleep He loves the homeless, the criminals, the lost and the ****** And rather you find peace in heaven, than be in hell crammed He wants your soul and conversation more than your ritual A love that shows 2 ways, and doesn't become habitual It becomes Willing.
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35
Did you just send that? Some psychic impression... I felt a genuine sadness wash over me like paint, an awkward rainbow of human emotion. I swear, I could almost hear you breathe. For so long, I refused to see the monster languishing in shadows, lapping up my tears— filling your belly with years of my love, so naively given. But the footsteps are echoing now. I see a specter of hope: the old you, stepping out of the dark. Let me embrace him With every piece of heart he broke I cannot love the monster, after all.
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Feb 11
Feb 11, 2026 at 12:07 AM UTC
Sent from my iPhone
Where am I Lost in lies I search for good Hidden in dark night skies I know at some point you cared But where did it go Love that faded Like memories, progressively jaded Now we hesitate to call A strain to even talk And point at each other When looking for fault Realization of a fragile life Might open this conversation The slow burning, starving Of a suffocating translation No matter how wounded I hope we find a middle ground Before one of us is left With silence, deafening all sounds
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Jan 31
Jan 31, 2026 at 12:58 AM UTC
Wounded
Seasons of Release "Forgiveness is not a single act, but a turning of seasons – from frost to thaw, from sorrow to peace." Forgiveness begins as winter – a silence heavy with frost, the heart clenched tight against the memory of harm. Then comes the thaw: a single drop of mercy falling into the soil, softening what was rigid. Spring arrives in small steps – a bud of understanding, a fragile green of trust, the air learning to breathe again. Summer is reconciliation, warm light across the face, the laughter that returns like rivers freed from ice. And autumn is peace – the quiet release of leaves, the cycle complete, the wound now part of the earth, no longer a burden, but a root for gentler growth.
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Jan 28
Jan 28, 2026 at 10:45 AM UTC
Seasons of Release
Splinters of Absence "Absence cuts deep, yet its splinters still glimmer.” I knew you once as open hands, a voice that carried warmth like firelight, a kindness that bent the shadows back. Then came the fracture – silence sharp as glass, splinters of absence lodged in my chest. Two Kayos stand before me: one who laughed, who shared, who let the world feel tender; and one who vanished, sealed her words behind stone, erased me like a stain. I press my ear to the crack between them, listening for the echo of truth. Is love still hidden in the shards, or only fear reflected in the mirror’s break? The beauty of brokenness is not the wound, but the light that leaks through fissures. Even shattered glass scatters brilliance, even silence teaches me to sing. So I carry both faces – the splendid and the shattered – knowing that what breaks does not erase what was real, only reshapes the way it shines.
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Jan 28
Jan 28, 2026 at 10:47 AM UTC
Splinters of Absence
He saw him a long way off, And threw down all constructs; contempt, “The other” out there that we scorn, the fragmented kin, Instead, open arms ~ he showed us how ~ to welcomed him, The foreigner within —
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Nov 3, 2025
Nov 3, 2025 at 3:52 PM UTC
the foreigner
Can I make you a proposal? We live apart but talk every day. On weekends, I come to your house— our house. We date. We try to reconcile again. I want you back.
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Aug 18, 2025
Aug 18, 2025 at 3:18 PM UTC
My Proposal
Now that he wants to make it up, I understand: he does what he can.
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Jul 3, 2025
Jul 3, 2025 at 3:44 AM UTC
[ Now that he wants to ]
How the hand you extend is marked with scars How familiar you are with rejection How beautiful are those discolored stars How none have been touched by hate's infection How many are tears that drip on your chest How much heat they hold, all stinging and strong How much love they hold, how much do they bless How strange that they're for the one who did wrong How much do I ache when I meet your gaze How my heart feels like it's all out of joint How much does it break as you gently say, "How could all you've done ever be the point?" I burst my seams trying to hold your gift A miracle hug across a great rift
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May 8, 2025
May 8, 2025 at 8:47 PM UTC
A Sonnet to Grace
I met a version of myself, A past that lived in quiet hell, His shoulders weighed with untold truths, In his eyes, the ghosts of youth. He stood, proud but lost inside, A prisoner of dreams denied, I knelt in shame, a ghost of me, Torn between what was and could be. "You know," I said, "you've been this way, Caught in a cage where shadows play, But let me tell you, now I see, You're still inside of me, and free." He smiled with pain, the truth untold, "I never wanted this, you know— This life of striving to please the blind, The masks we wore, the thoughts we mined." But in his eyes, I saw the change, A flicker in the dark, so strange, And I realized, as time flew past, We'd both been caught, both built to last. Now here I stand, no more a slave, No longer bound to past’s dark wave, I freed myself, and freed him too, The shackles gone, the world anew. And though the road remains unclear, I hold his voice, I hold it near, For in his steps, I see my own— The strength I’ve sought, now fully grown. The shame, the guilt, they start to fade, Replaced by light, by love’s cascade, And in that moment, I finally see, That all I sought was always me.
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Apr 14, 2025
Apr 14, 2025 at 3:43 AM UTC
Reconcile with Shadows
Lord, I live for you as you lived for me I give you my all you gave everything for me It is so hard to accept this gift sometimes It's so overwhelming, this love outpouring And it is all I can do to simply be adoring You only want my happiness You desire only my joy You sing over me and you smile You gaze at me in awe and wonder and love What else can I do, but live for you I believe Lord, help me to receive you More fully into my body and my soul Take it all Lord, for I give you control I surrender to you though it hurts So live and move and breathe in me I make my life an offering of love So as to live for you, my God, above You are good: so, so good to me Father in Heaven, you never let me down All the good that is in me is from you Lord You are Holy and Perfect and Blameless And, by the precious blood, you make me spotless You come running out to me to embrace me When I turn around and come back home You are waiting; arms flung open wide You held me close while we both cried Tears of sadness and pain, healing and relief In this flood of tears comes a flood of peace Lord, let me rest in your presence for a while And Lord, always help me to live for you
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Jan 13, 2025
Jan 13, 2025 at 10:19 PM UTC
Live For You
I'm coming home to a place that I once knew I'm coming back to something that was true I stopped running away when I got so tired I turned around: it was all that love required You were waiting for me with arms wide open You paid it no heed how I had been broken I never knew you could love me just as I am I never realized how much I was like a lamb I never thought you ever really cared I never felt you near when I was scared I ran away and slammed the door I shut you out and wanted nothing more I felt abandoned, betrayed, cold and alone But the last thing I wanted was to come back home You still want me: the world's biggest fool You picked me, a tiny fish in a great big pool You chose me from the very beginning You look at me and can't stop grinning I find myself standing at a crossroads Left or right follow where the wind blows Looking down dusty road and faded track One step, two step: I'm on my way back I'm headed back home again this day How will it be and what will the people say Lord, what I need is a brand-new start For family is home and home is in the heart
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Dec 12, 2024
Dec 12, 2024 at 9:13 PM UTC
Coming Home
It blew in off the sea It went out on a limb And broke the olive branch Do you hear the wind through the hair of revolution --black raven hair-- Bone straight and frayed The split ends of society forging separate paths Progression at their tips, regression in their roots It makes a sound akin to the back of an old haunted house settling It wandered here in due season It's about to be cut short It's about to be swept away
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Dec 7, 2024
Dec 7, 2024 at 3:50 PM UTC
Wayward Hum
King David’s bard once sang about ceaseless cycles of the tides, a time to hope and time for doubt as we the cresting waves must ride. Once trusted boatsmen stopped to ford the deep oceans that divide and swung their oars in wrath’s discord to scorch with flames of pride: I walked across an iron bridge that had once been made a wall. Not so far back was it the edge of two worlds to rivals called. The warhawks of those bitter days that swung hard over seas of steel returned to their unspoiled state of ivory doves whose touch can heal. Some doves now blacken in their dirge, their talons whetted for the **** — it’s worth recalling when this bridge its joining purpose re-fulfilled. Fell waves will crest and seas will smooth, our tossed ark will come to rest upon a place where psalms will soothe us where we by doves are blessed.
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Nov 23, 2024
Nov 23, 2024 at 12:34 PM UTC
Glienicke Bridge
On the day of all souls in the fall as leaves lose luster to winter’s bane my father’s shade returns to call while I walk along a splintered lane: His memory murmurs in a darkened nook of years of yearning and wasted days, as the distance that filled up the book of our lives still grows as I turn to grey. The care he’d showed I did not feel as the pillars of our bridge began to crack. Too late, I turned back to heal the fallen span that we now lacked. By then his old mind’s lantern had failed; the new light I’d shone back went unseen and broken arches into a chasm trailed where once a golden bridge had briefly been. Across the valley, dark, deep, and wide, a spectral stretch of stones appears to shine as a silvery coach now rides across, to bring two sundered shadows near. Now on this day of all souls missed by those who find themselves left behind, one faithful departed returns to kiss the forehead of a son’s reopened mind.
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Nov 2, 2024
Nov 2, 2024 at 1:01 PM UTC
The bridge once broken
Repair the world that's broke n with a wrench, For never can a fixer can't afford To fix a mental meaning with a ***** Though all the world's a floor of concrete poured. Restore the restoration of the world, And everything returns to right its place: The lone construction worker spins betwirled With bluebirds singing friendly in the face. Time flies, and so do flying jellyfish. Since tempos fugue it, carp the dying day. Go find a star and make a walrus wish That aliens would pray away the gray. The grass is greener if the other side Where hamsters love and noon has never died. *
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Aug 4, 2024
Aug 4, 2024 at 4:43 AM UTC
Mr. Fixit
~ *faded mauve butterflies fluttering along defeated selenitic walks the sound of abandoned ship bells in the far parlor north but the guilt of wind is silent like Venetian whispers from motionless lips us, then inward and upward one step too far a house of strangers tipping like boats seaworthy as sleep oars divide the ocean but framed pictures and love letters unite the walls to this unstable floor then, us always, us* ~
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Jul 1, 2024
Jul 1, 2024 at 10:54 AM UTC
A Dream Through the Floorboards
Meet me beneath the olive-tre I'th'garden of Gethsemane Quhair Jesus pray'd.  Pray thou with me. Twa corbies mak an hairie nest Within the gardens wooden brest. The Sunne is running tow'rd the west. From off the tre the fruict doth fall Upon the firm fixt flatten'd ball Of wormwood Earth whose seas are gall.
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Jun 3, 2024
Jun 3, 2024 at 5:45 PM UTC
Olives