#samson
You took down both a lion and a bear. But not Delilah there. She was your glass slipper. Pretty little backstabbing hair clipper. She sold you out to the Philistines. Nonetheless, God allowed you to blindly pull down their temple beams. Oh Samson, strength was both your virtue and vice. In giving away your secret you paid the ultimate price.
Apr 19, 2020
Apr 19, 2020 at 11:49 PM UTC
We are wanderers,
not by choice,
nor by right,
nor by crimes,
but by fate.
We are wanderers,
living in;
a shell,
a roof,
a sky,
a cloud,
and a soul.
We are Wanderers seeking to keep fit and survive.
We are Wanderers of the earth.
Jan 18, 2020
Jan 18, 2020 at 11:06 AM UTC
Man in a mysterious world,
filled with all things,
both good and evil,
we always see..
But amidst decisions where does he get directions?
Who endeavors to weigh his thoughts for him?
Who faces the What ifs?
Who is made afright by humble Fear?
Ofcourse its thats one,
yeah that one person,
which is you!
Be strong!
Conquer!
Fear no Fears.
Jan 18, 2020
Jan 18, 2020 at 10:59 AM UTC
Life is like a stream of gushing waters.
Yeah even a river that flows ceaselessly..
The waves swashes the waters,
and it is tossed
thro and fro,
yes even in an unperiodic manner.
The river of life never allows rest,
it has a lot to keep all occupied.
Jan 18, 2020
Jan 18, 2020 at 10:45 AM UTC
This life
is
like
a drama scene,
scene
by
scene.
Different plays
and
characters
in the scene.
Some enjoying,
some striving,
some suffering.
Everyone has a role to play in this dramatic world.
For there is no escape route for the babies for they have to take part
in the scene.
Everyone has
his/her lifestory with
a
begining
and
an end.
No one is saved from
the scene,
except
he be dead.
Aug 19, 2019
Aug 19, 2019 at 7:27 AM UTC
There is a barber shop built on the ashes of Babylon,
where men lose their ******** with shame that skip to the fourth kid,
There once was place where Samson's hairstyle was a treasure map.
A place where lost man travel
Where David found no stone
where Noah built an Ark but storm never came.
When we pass through that place even the stars we use for direction disappear.
Dec 4, 2018
Dec 4, 2018 at 9:04 AM UTC
You are God sent
You are a walking church bell and every time you take a step you ring, and I swear even atheists stop what they're doing just to praise you
I look into your eyes and watch as the lamp of your body illuminates your soul and understand what Matthew meant when he said you were full of light
You speak the language of angels and the vibrations of your voice cause me to go so deep into meditation that it causes an imbalance in all 114 of my chakras, and you always wonder why I only speak to you telepathically
Every time our lips meet I go 6,000 years back in time and relive the moment Adam and Eve took a bite out of the forbidden fruit and the taboo taste never fails to be worth it
I know that you're God sent
because you have God's Scent
I know that you're God sent
because you ascend into the sky with wings as strong as Samson
before he was tricked and deceived by Delilah
I know that you're God sent
because you're bound to betray just how they all betrayed our Messiah
Sep 16, 2015
Sep 16, 2015 at 8:41 PM UTC
Oh my dear Samson
Please, save me
The wicked wizard had
put his black witchcraft
on my heavy heart
—it turned into stone
and drown me deep
into Bermuda Triangle
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 11:12 AM UTC
he stares off and inhales slow death
green lungs
red eyes
his soul reminds me of the sun
older than time and burning slowly
his halo hangs undecided between his body
and his aura
deep purple,
guess that's why his voice sounds like purple haze
with green lungs
red eyes
here I come, baby.
and he starts walking like there's no star in the sky that could stop him
walking through the clouds,
riding through the sky
he's the chosen one
gold streaks running through his long hair
Samson, your time has come.
you don't know who you're talking to.
I long to know the secrets woven into your dreadlocks
yesterday's broken song
and the beginning of the universe
what your god sounds like
and what it's like to have god running through every vein in your body.
I'm a cute little heartbreaker
with a tar black heart
let me take you over.
back roads, cold night
inhaling poison
blasphemous hotbox in the house of The Lord
clear mind
tainted soul
green lungs
red eyes
you're enticed by the darkness shining behind mine
unintentional seductress
with unholy motives
so I get you to the backseat of my car
inhale the smoke dripping from my lips
the cyanide laced flower you cling to
the light fades from your red eyes
as realization hits
your last thought asking why
seven inch bloodstained blade torn from hearts of the many before
pulled from my belt
I cut the purple haze from your soul with every strand I steal
the gold fades
I can hear your god
see the secrets of the universe woven in your dreadlocks
watching the universe begin
mesmerized
I don't know if it's day or night anymore,
or if it's the end of time
but I've taken you over
oh, samson.
and then he rises, his hands on my throat
he sees me standing over him
gets up and screams
his voice brings pillars down,
the house of god obliterated
in this moment I'm all his
his rampage beginning.
in the midst of his purple haze
green lungs
red eyes.
the revolution is mine.
Jun 30, 2015
Jun 30, 2015 at 11:48 AM UTC
A baseline that you feel in your chest,
Humming thick in your ears,
And your mouth,
You just want to live in their blur of impactful words,
That you don’t understand,
Because it’s just a baseline to you,
But have you ever felt so proud of someone?
That what they’re saying, or what they’re playing or who they’re being,
Becomes the only thing that’s keeping off the rain,
And you can see every tooth in the room,
Every heart that becomes unbroken and
every heart that breaks,
Well it’s a shooting star,
Baby it’s gold dust,
Because his gaze is tattooed on your body,
Under your sweater,
Under your skirt,
Yours is a crime scene littered with his fingerprints,
But you’re no ****** victim,
Jackie,
Jane,
Joan,
Wife,
Mother,
Daughter,
Survivor,
Protector,
Warrior,
Woman,
Know when it’s dark,
And subtle shadows are all that remains of your bodies,
Finding all the bones in your shoulder,
The piano strings that move your fingers,
And each indentation of your spine,
Is a bible,
But God won’t give him strength,
It’s your skeleton that is fortitude,
You’re the dragon protecting the castle,
You’re Rosie the Riveter,
You can hold up the world with perfectly manicured hands,
You will listen,
And you will care,
Let him breathe in the fractions of your soul that you exhale,
That way,
Every standing ovation and
every wound that heals,
Is saturated with the influence of you,
Though you don’t understand,
That baseline you can feel in your chest,
It is your to be proud of too.
Feb 26, 2015
Feb 26, 2015 at 5:38 PM UTC
he still holds your name in his
mouth like his first
communion, his hands would still fit the mold of your
hips if only you'd
let him try. you can remember the light of
after, the gleam of the scissors as you tried to make him
pretty, his strength littering the floor sort of like the plates in your
kitchen now, that kind of
damage. it must've took a whole lot of
something for that to
happen, they say to you. the
aftermath is not
pretty. without his flower petal
ponytail he is no longer
pretty.
it's not a coincidence that his name sounds like falling
cities, how you never bothered to learn to sleep
alone.
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
The first time that Delilah saw Samson
she said to herself,
“That man will be mine.”
she said,
“Yes.”
He laughed when she first begged to bind him,
“I cannot be bound.” He declared,
“I have brought one thousand men to their knees.”
She replied, “So have I.”
and on her knees
she showed him how.
Their favorite game to play was Pagan,
he would act as sacrifice and she, the priest,
teaching him to worship
at her temple,
teaching him the best death
was deathless.
Long before she cut his hair,
she made him weak.
Long before they gouged his eyes,
he was blinded.
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 8:43 AM UTC