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#reformation
Will it burn me up? This extraordinary love? I let my self go
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Mar 25, 2024
Mar 25, 2024 at 10:45 PM UTC
Extraordinary
you threw me far flung away from myself, an act of hate and fear. but it feels good i have to say, to look at myself objectively from this point so far from the beginning. i am on the outskirts, looking back at myself with love, and a dedication to walk through this new fire, in an effort to make myself even bigger than before.
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May 26, 2020
May 26, 2020 at 3:38 PM UTC
the outskirts.
What is waiting for my weight— for the matter I carry, for the energies bonded within me? What is lying dormant— anticipating the day when my body lays itself down— so it may drink from my cisterns and eat from my stores? What will come into Being from my ceasing to Be?
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May 8, 2020
May 8, 2020 at 12:17 PM UTC
Waiting
Golden bells,—bedight o'er towers— Amidst the betrothing melody, The touch of stained glass— Beams the rosary beads Binding me with a man held high; Now to be crowned his wife.      "My lord, lend me thy right hand,       As thy loyal servant,—        I vow to pledge our country." The Moonlight Song,— let our haunches be mere pitches— Of forests rocked by branches Ah, my fatal reverie— Savor this antique scenery, With classic gothic frames, And worn laces,—Peaking the figures'desires Cradle me,— And thou shalt drink my glass,— To offer a sip;-- so to paint moist on windows. Sunrise, leap me to this town!— How gracious men and children, I shalt dress all thee;-—Make a stronghold that prospers the needy; Lest the void of promised land— Wither the faith of mankind. With the King's side, Reformation sets the nation to affluence; The bonfire relives the glorious centuries— Never scorn, swords unfold!
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May 6, 2020
May 6, 2020 at 3:17 AM UTC
"Resurrection"-- Betrothal: The Reign
After an earthquake, I fell down from a City to a town the transformation was so bad Sitting on a chair I was sad. Then a man came running while his body action made me smile, he is sit near me and offer a bun his style of offering made me fun he then called me majesty he was my fan, i see he said,"you were best at that chance your good poems made me dance you still are best you still are good." His lines of fame made me Stood I held a pen, start writing then, my words were hit, and famous again.
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Apr 10, 2018
Apr 10, 2018 at 9:25 AM UTC
reformation
For starters we could talk about the Huguenot martyrs...
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Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 8:23 AM UTC
St. Bartholomew's Couplet
You may cover the stench with a potpourri— while you gag, as you finger your rosary. Sacrosanct nourriture… or decayed pourriture? (Other patrons might label it Popery.) Though the tepidly Protestant matron of a church that is stagnant and state-run does not care about Luther, We’ll bother to truth her with Calvin or Knox as our patron. Though the Vatican’s bottomless coffers make some very un-Lutheran offers, I would rather talk Tetzel (with beer and a pretzel) and drink with the rebels and scoffers. We forget that the birth of the Kirk was a vicious, un-Catholic work One recalls ****** Mary… and Knox was no faerie. His doctrine drove Satan berserk. Many chairmen, deficient in wit who on flimsy theologies sit with no justification hate predestination, reviling it more than a bit. Barthelemy (in French: St. Bartholomew) was unpleasant, as most of the martyrs knew Roman Catholic correction or violent deception? In heaven, they’re getting the overview… People gag, and then murmur the rosary seeking solace in incense or potpourri you must pardon my French but this damnable stench smells like nothing so much as like Popery.
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Apr 10, 2017
Apr 10, 2017 at 5:59 PM UTC
Pardon My French
I looked to you as the sun set, but you turned your head to look at girls passing by. **** it. You made it impossible to connect until the breeze blew your ego to the Ocean, and it seemed you got the girl. Good for you. I'm still alone in the sand, my sandcastle incomplete. We're both scarred; been there, done that. Too bad you push it overboard. Why can't I hate you for that? You made happiness, You made tears, You made them salty like BP in the Gulf. I was looking for something special, but that ship has sailed.
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May 30, 2016
May 30, 2016 at 2:27 AM UTC
Ships
A decision made impulsively Sometimes ends repulsively But sometimes ends perfectly And eradicates conformity Look just a little more you (When in fact there's less of you) They look again and say that's WHO? Open up their world view When they see that people can change
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Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 5:25 PM UTC
Change