#transgression
of This World, Not a single mote of dust exists, neither the peaks of Kilimanjaro - not this moment, not this breath, Not the beat of a drum, nor even eternity, and neither blood.
Our Mother
Whose name is of Art,
praise to thy beauty,
that drives the Beat of our Hearts.
give us
Our nights
of Divine Passion,
& bless us - so that
we may never shy
from the
Absolute comfort of
Solitude.
Lead us
to the persistence
of Folly &
the Destruction
of Slavery.
For thine
is the love, &
the mercy, &
the grace
and the Wild yearning.
Forever,
And Ever More.
Jan 25, 2025
Jan 25, 2025 at 2:07 AM UTC
Nature responds by
extreme weather conditions
to man's transgressions
___________
May 12, 2024
May 12, 2024 at 11:39 AM UTC
threat land
hot grease
on tainted water
i like to bind and
defile my poems
but nothing like you
my love
your mouth a river of spit
like kiss slow butter
as i push your ****
up to your neckline
and dissect your ****
with my tongue
Nov 21, 2020
Nov 21, 2020 at 9:17 AM UTC
O search me, inside and out then heal me.
I beg You. Search me to heal me.
Save me. Hold me. Don’t let go.
Take a good look at the place that I dwell,
See how my plight is being engulfed with great floods,
the waters swirling in even unto my soul;
Sinking into the violent sinkhole where nothing but doom awaits,
drifting away from the lighthouse, rock house.
Storm-proofed. Or so I thought.
For it seemed unable to withstand continuous, raging storms
Could it be that it was made from sand after all?
I ponder to know; but how could I know?
I have become foolish, as though, I know You not;
I have forgotten Your face, longing, but I see You not.
my heart is dull for my loyalties are wrong;
I’ve forgotten to eat daily bread, Your Spirit groans.
My throat is dry and parched,
My eyes shed streams of tear, all too harsh
They say, “Ask and you shall receive”
But I’ve been asking, searching, slamming the windows of Heaven
Yet it’s as if I'm still ever more drowning in depression.
Oppression.
Same old transgressions.
Wrestling with wrong questions;
Suffering in suffocating silence
with emptiness and nothingness as loyal companions,
Scarcely breathing in an ocean poisoned with my own thoughts
It taints my heart with unbearable numbness
Holy. Crippling. Sadness.
My life is in need of the Anchor,
the pseudo-anchors I’ve had are now shaken from their footings
My vision fails as I wait for Your deliverance and saving.
“Hear from Heaven!”, sweet, Lord, this is my 900th prayer!
I’ve begged You.
Still, I am begging You.
I am exhausted, too desensitized, traumatized to swim.
Come again to my rescue, teach me once more to
tread, stay afloat, or stroke. Better yet
pull me back to the safety of Your shore,
for I still believe that in this life and to the next, there is more
But only in Your presence will I see, what’s truly in store.
While life may now appear desperate,
nonetheless, I wait upon You.
I cannot afford not to.
For who is a pardoning God like You?
Or who is Mighty enough to save but You?
Who understands a thousand sorrows
and guarantees unending joy tomorrow?
Who can breathe life to the dead and
render death stingless?
I know no one — not even one — but You.
Your sovereignty over the storms that grieve me
will sustain me in my tears,
it is Your grace at work even through my shallow fears
And it’s not that You have not heard my cries. You have.
You have answered a thousand times.
Just that it’s not how I pictured it most of the time.
But in the midst of grace denied, I got daily grace supplied.
I know now that You truly know best
When, where, and how to apportion your infinite grace
to me and all the rest —
So, Dear Father, grant me the grace me to trust.
Satisfy me day and night with Your unfailing love,
as you have sworn to my fathers from the days of old
Cast my sins into the depths of the sea and
let these sufferings work for me,
Teach me to expect no less;
rather pursue faith in the midst of distress
for You are using it to shape me into Your image.
I am appealing to Your zeal for Your own name.
Quietly, I wait for the timing consistent with Your good pleasure
Praying without ceasing, I will wait ’til You finally come for my
eternal pleasure and saving, endless safe-keeping.
Sep 3, 2020
Sep 3, 2020 at 3:10 AM UTC
the Hail Mary transgression:
falling in love with me when it crosses over the line
*guilty of the same, so even when I condemn the errant woman,
with an ice block from a Northeastern pond of no soft forgiveness,
which is still and yet, the only cutoff ending appropriate
but you woman, deserve to learn that
emboldened fantasy that crosses broken bold lines,
is a jagged rot that doesn’t cure the dreamy unreality of
the-cannot-be,
it’s pouring hot water on scalding burns entrenched
guess time to share that your fantasy is the
number one commandment
that this boy also violates routinely so he has a phd of experience,
and the burn proofs when he thot he too could be,
Cervantes, the knight errant, lover of the impossible woman
I, guilty as charged by “The Duke,” am an idealist and bad poet,
so many poet-women here I secret cherish at levels that are nonsensical, absurd, ludicrous
and hold the fantastical fantasty of them dear,
so close and so near, so mine
wrote them each love poems, and they know it,
now, here, in my confessional booth,
my priestly punishment always the same,
ten thousand Hail Mary’s,
but I cheat the cohen priest,
and just write another poem,*
this one is about the line that never can could will be
crossed, hail mary!
Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 11:48 AM UTC
How can I be better
When I wasn't even good,
To begin with?
How can I not lie,
When it makes me real
When it gives me direction
I know there is a truth in fear
It plays the fiddle for guilt
When faced with it
Your body bets on red
You ignoring it
Doesn't make it go away
It's all turned to **** anyway
Maybe I'll die not even trying
To **** myself
I'll be ash and you'll be grey
What's the difference
Is all you'll say
Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 6:22 AM UTC
****** **** such a tragedy.
Between kin bloodlines abominations of unrighteous unity.
Speak loud and spare not, victims stop keeping it hidden.
A sin so scandalous so forbidden.
This secret is the reason for some insane things.
Punishment on our Nation it brings.
Stop the transgress it’s time to progress
to detest the ugliness of ******
The sin of ****** put out from us such wickedness
Crimes within the family.
Outcry why oh God why.
Emotions cry spirits die.
Survival with scars somehow.
Child kept secrets at least for now.
Innocent sweet nectar just taken.
Abused shattered then forsaken.
Inwardly hating the humiliation.
Lingering curse. Bound to be rehearsed.
A bloodline search, unthought-of curse our generation.
How can we cleanse this crime from our nation.
Child **** such outrage of wickedness.
Such a corruptible trespass.
Men lusting after little boys. Using them as ****** toys.
Outcry iniquity. Loss of innocent purity.
Killers of purity, thieves,
bandits doings malicious things in secrecy.
Abused children in mind body and spirit.
Hear their voices silently cry who’s close enough to hear it.
Legal laws. Often with flaws
Putting children in harms way.
Hard to prove it allowing perpetrators often to stay.
Courts judicial systems poor outcome.
Criminals getting counseling with their worst still to be done
It’s a unhealed spiritual condition.
Warriors do our best to rid ourselves of this affliction.
Wrongful unthinkable vexation.
Impure affections of ****** connection.
Between the bloodlines.
Children with Children sexually learned crimes.
Scares of a lifetime.
People wake up let us not be blind.
I beg you I pray.
Let’s do more to protect our children in any way.
Feb 12, 2018
Feb 12, 2018 at 2:15 PM UTC
I'd share the sky
with the clouds
but I had to grow my wings
but I had to lose my skin
I dared to reach
paradise
but my brothers took my skin
but my brothers used my skin
and I couldn't let them win
so I had to let this in
now it's tearing us within
and it's the fruit our sins
cause I had to grow my wings
but my brothers used my skin
I made them crawl
took my time nice and slow
feels so good to lose control
like a witness, watched them fall
now I'm free to flee this skin
but I will not shed this sin
and I cannot be complete
Sep 3, 2017
Sep 3, 2017 at 2:16 PM UTC
I've scorned and derided,
Needled and spited,
Those, who are closest to me.
I've cheated and lied,
Vilified and decried,
Those, who are closest to me.
I've toasted many glasses
With strangers in places
Where I shouldn't have been.
I've smoked and laughed,
Admired strange ***
In lands where I cannot be seen.
But mention your name,
And all seems so vain,
Those promises I failed to keep;
The losses that haunt me in sleep.
Despite confessed sins,
My transgressional whims,
I know I've always been true;
And when I bow out,
My whisper will shout,
Above all, I've always loved you.
Apr 8, 2016
Apr 8, 2016 at 10:10 AM UTC
i need you to keep me awake
until the palace band stops playing
and the trapped sand in my hands
turns into sea glass
i'm lit up but so easy to smother
by a wayward breath of wind
or the waxing moon's light temper
the errant smoke will twist forever
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 4:19 PM UTC
No one ever wants to read a poem other than one about love.
They’re only interested in thoughts from another that might just be about them.
I mean it’s pleasant if you happen to read a poem that relates to you, but don’t just click copy, save, or reblog.
Someone put their heart in to that poem; they shed tears and carved crevasses into their undoubting mind that everything is worth it.
They found their worth.
Some through words of love and transgression, and others through words of doubt, vexation, and sorrow.
They’ve been able to overcome themselves, and now it’s your turn to take the wheel.
Understand the words you want to say about the grass dancing in the wind, find the comparisons between yourself and the sun, and reach for the top of the clouds with the courage
of a self-spoken soul.
Not everything has to be about love, people just make it out to be.
(j.a.r.)
Mar 14, 2015
Mar 14, 2015 at 10:49 AM UTC