"affirms" poems
Here oh postmodern nihilist
the grave awaits
your death
wish:
Life
a
struggle
escape it
death
so tempting
grasp it
and take its era with you:
Keep it
away from our church's
our schools
our civics
and further culture.
Lo, the children
black as the hell they die in...
Its inordinately subjective unconsciousness;
confused emotionally with its ineptitude of reason.
Blaming its former God,
for their own doing.
Wanting to save that world upon themselves left behind from such a rejection.
Lest they live in a Christ so unjust.
As to not know all men equally,
but to judge them--in their distinction.
Creation
your natural law
emphasizes that which we do not want to come to terms with.
If only we could make us all inter-dependent biological beings of mechanization.
Chain me to genetic determinism and biochemical reactions foremost -- lest my soul affirms inequality:
Liberty exulted
by the risen Lord:
Supremacy/Autonomy
© S. Wesley Mcgranor
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 6:51 PM UTC
Ridding the Dark Shadows that lie,
Deep adumbrations of the past;
That lurk within close quarters
Is an ever present cynical task.
By this, I mean, the scoundrels will always be near.
But not to live within us, nor to cause us fear.
Their presence simply affirms that we're living in the light;
Because Shadows are never visible in the dark of night.
Mar 28, 2014
Mar 28, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
I called the lone parrot passing over my head
*from the blue
i won't fly to you*
it said
forgot the love i gave?
*but you made me your slave
to repeat your chosen line
to voice your chosen tune
my life was not mine
so from the blue
i won't ever fly to you*
she affirms the parrot escaped
but i know one dull afternoon in March
she let the bird fly away
being too weary of the chosen line.
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 9:56 AM UTC
For You- Butch my friend from Philippines ocean away to Cali U.S.A
FRIENDSHIP is like Red Rose in my Garden.
It is not the sum -total on how many it BLOOMED
but unfathomable beneath the ROOTS thriving & Sprouting.
Purview as Emoting little some Some,
little Bored,
little Depleted
little sad, or yielding to the Inevitable!
Languish to anguish perhaps from lack of vitamin 'ME"..Ahah!
Thereby stayed in touch, in Tuned
following the thread with ME.
My Friend so close yet Afar.
Truly Extraordinary,
wonderfully Smiling
and adamantly Affirms:
"You are D apple of my Eye!"
Every time WE see eye to eye in social networking called Facebook
Through Cyber Space
The abounding witty comments of "OMG's," "Ohhs "and 'AAhhs"
makes everyone amused with Awe of such silly antics we so accorded!
A blessing, a gift from God.
So unusual Diamonds so Alike
a rare atypical like it!
..so Uncommon
Not Phony friends out there to deceive & Decry..
Succumb unlikely in Waterloo!
But You definitely a Diamond to my passion!
As girl's BFF, a Buddy or a Sweet chum or Dude!
Not a Foe but Pal Forever.
And just to let You Know , my Friend,
You are like a Diamond so brilliant
Found like a rare gemstone from a dust
who is never be a mere coincidence to bring JOY & Delight
to the norm & Conform.
So for now.. priceless friend like You..is for me to treasure the friendship between Us.
Thank you, my Friend,
I will always be here & there for You as a Friend in Deed!
Aug 7, 2011
Aug 7, 2011 at 11:57 PM UTC
The air is brittle this ominous, wintry night.
The slivers of a life you used to know still haunt you, as surely as you have permitted them to be a haunt to others.
Without question, it is those memories that spur your ruminations; that cause your copious circumlocutions; which compell you to stand on this somber boulevard in front of this crumbling, but once stately manor that now is a languid presence with the solitary purpose of looming over the vast grounds.
It is obligatory that you proceed along the avenue that used to split the yards that are now overgrown and chocoblock with twisted vines, and thistles.
You pause, to gather your strength.
One deep inhailation and then you hold your breath as you grip the tarnished handle and lock leaver.
With a perfect measure of strength your thumb recalls, the mechanism is undone.
Your arm pushes forward.
The silence is disturbed by a warbling creak as the heavy door is slowly opened.
You exhale, then before you lose your nerve you quickly pass through the ingress and enter into the foyer,
which is instantly familiar in the dim, flickering light and the long, slender adumbrations effected by the gossamer encaked voltives jutting from the dusty walls.
Though it has remaned unchanged
throughout all the time that has passed, standing in the ornate room affirms that the warmth with which you used to be recieved here has been abandoned to a frigidity.
You feel as if this room remembers you.
This is as far as I dare go with you, my friend, though I know you must continue.
I have listened to your stories, so
I know you have many rooms to search.
The closier that you seek is in a matter that is not my own.
I will depart upon rendering these words of warning:
When visiting the past,
As you daringly explore these often haralded halways,
Be careful what you leave behind.
Take caution not to lose yourself,
For a shadow lingers in the Suite Sublime.
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 6:59 PM UTC
The moon has its ways of inspiring awe,
Taking on different forms, challenging static notions of identity—
And when it chooses to shine bright, it affirms it has never been any less a whole—
May 19, 2019
May 19, 2019 at 10:47 AM UTC
I used to live alone before I knew you
so
of the mundane tragedies endlessly writ
repeat rinse repeat
repeat
how awfully awful
is the complaining without cessation
of busted everything;
recall the the doctor’s office sign
"no cure for the broken heart here"
so when I hear a Buckley sing
the words of the Cohen, High Priest of Songs,
I, a broken hallelujah,
smile with recognition
though the true cure is
yet still forever being researched
patience is a patient within me,
for my muses and their endless,
poking aching whispers of write, write, write, right,
they are the company I keep,
they are the company that sweeps me up
I, a broken hallelujah
they are not the desired flesh, true,
that affirms confirms and denies me
denying my needy frailties
but for now,
mine company to keep,
so when we do meet and
you greet me with a
tell me about your previous lovers
as you humanly must
will recite my poems from
from before I knew you
Feb 17, 2018
Feb 17, 2018 at 1:28 PM UTC
Death affirms and is the term of life;
flesh and firmness, egg and ***** the means.
Breath interred within a Word and light,
deftly perched perpetually in-between:
born to discontinuous distraction,
borne through a contemptuous nadir;
but in a moment, all's destroyed,
and in the black and empty of the void,
a helix (and a hollow core) appears.
Baphomet the emblem of Its power,
sacrament the reverence revealing
devilment to Wisdom yet to flower,
absent comprehension of Its meaning.
Pan personifies the All unbounded,
flouts the misconceptions of the seeing:
Hermes the unmaskèd death,
Aphrodite's basking cleft,
the androgyne transcends within its being.
O - not called "the little death" in jest,
Gnosis vaunted in the ebb of Lust,
though is Not, the know'r of Life and Death:
know that All It Is is what thou Wast,
Its continuity the end thou seekest
in contemplation, *** and wist for death:
Thanatos, eternal sleep,
Eros, infinitely deep,
Generation poised to manifest.
Nov 14, 2013
Nov 14, 2013 at 12:47 AM UTC
Stories older than kings,
these exist as stories told with old ones,
imaginings of messengers,
seers saying this is the vision, made as plain
as pi, point, plumb, line, and wall,
man, made in the imagination
man imagines, and affirms,
this I die to know, I am made
to be a doer of this,
listen
Aug 2, 2021
Aug 2, 2021 at 6:15 PM UTC
Breath whisper,
"He is in every single one of me."
Heart murmurs,
"He is tucked cozily in me ,as long as I am beating."
Hope utters,
"Never lose me, this man,one day you'll get to see."
Smile comforts,
*"So put me on young lady, get ready for the.
meeting."*
Heartbeat reveals,
"He brings a new meaning to each thump of mine."
Mind affirms,
"I'm telling you,you can't take him off me."
Eyes mime,
*"When you close me, he'll send chills down your
spine."*
Love expresses,
*"Trust him, I'm true, he would go down on his.
knee."*
Test conveys,
*"I'm sent down from above, but both of you will
pass."*
Miss admits,
*"You feel me so much, you pray so hard for him to be
closer."*
Tears confess,
*"I trickle down your cheeks like drops of crystal clear
glass."*
Faith assures, *"Have me, these tough days will
soon be over."*
Dec 24, 2014
Dec 24, 2014 at 2:17 AM UTC
How can I feel the extreme pain of loss and deepest dark despair,
from something that reality affirms was never mutually there?
I loved you and my heart stands witness to every lie you told,
yet it is I who loved for real that is left to feel the frigid cold.
You made me feel both my very best and my very worst,
leaving my mind torn by memory that is both loved and cursed?
Dec 22, 2020
Dec 22, 2020 at 7:42 PM UTC
I believe the highest hopes and aspirations of humankind to be divine,
and I believe the epitome of Divinity to be True Love — Love in Truth.
Yet, in that we so universally long for love that’s true and truth that’s loving,
while so rarely attaining or embodying them, attests to the fact that
they find their Source outside of ourselves. Similarly, our greatest potential —
the Ideal itself, the capacity to even conceive of it, the desire to strive for it,
and the motivation to do so, must also ALL have their Source outside of ourselves.
It follows that our longing for The Divine is due to Divinity longing for us first —
the True nature of Love being to share ‘Itself’ graciously and generously.
Thus, True Divinity can only be The God of Love, by both nature and definition.
To believe Divinity to be intrinsically Good is merely a matter of self-consistency:
And for God to have Goodwill toward Man is perfectly natural by logical extension.
To further acknowledge that a Truly Loving nature — consistent with Divinity —
does not permit so much as even intentions of an un-loving or an un-true nature,
affirms that God is inherently trustworthy. We can thereby be assured that an
attitude of trust and a disposition to believe in the Love of God is very reasonable:
To do so has proven to be our most promising hope of our highest aspirations.
Any seeming contradiction to the veracity of Divine Virtue —
in theory or in history— can only be reasonably attributed to
misinterpretation and/or misrepresentation of God’s nature and intention.
[“For God so loved the world, that He gave His only-begotten Son, so that whosoever believes in Him
should not perish, but have everlasting life. For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn it,
but that the world may be saved through Him” Father-God wants all of His lost children to return!
And “Behold what level of love the Father has given us that we should be called the children of God.”
So, “For me there is only one God, the Father, from Whom all things came and for Whom I live;
and there is only one Lord, Jesus Christ, thru Whom all things came and thru Whom we live.”
Dec 18, 2010
Dec 18, 2010 at 3:22 PM UTC
Lord,
you tell me to serve you,
but I haven't heard even a whisper
about this path and purpose
you intend me to pursue.
God said
“love your enemies”
but he didn't tell us
what to do when it hurts,
when a piece of your heart it attached to every kind word and gesture
that then gets picked apart
and shredded into shards that shoot
right back at me.
Our Father affirms
how we must forgive our trespassers,
but he didn't tell us how to repair the damage,
how to stop being taken advantage of,
or how to stand up for ourselves.
He didn't tell us how to end the the cycles,
just how to continue them
by turning over your other cheek
and not withhold even your tunic.
Jesus preached
about how we should love our neighbors as ourselves,
but he didn't say what to do when you’re full of self-hate
or when nobody cares that you care about them
because they're too busy trying to get someone else's approval.
He also said
"Don't let your hearts be troubled”
but he didn't say what to do
when they don't listen to you,
when there's so much at stake,
when your world caves in,
when you're cast aside like dust
but the world still wants to much,
or when you're just not happy and you don't know why everything is so hard,
or when you're wide awake at night,
knowing
the ones you care about the most
could be on the verge of breaking
their skin.
Mar 9, 2025
Mar 9, 2025 at 11:44 AM UTC
There are some coins in my pocket
Market asserts that ‘these are outdated’!
There are some pictures in my home
Viewer affirms these are antiquated!
There are some books in my library
Visitors avow these are passé!
There are some thought
Carrying with me,
Like, ‘world without edge for politics,
human out of religion,
people in matching pace and spirit,
to craft the globe to a village’!
But, everyone asserts these are archaic!
There some fruits in my store
But , people confirmed
These are perish and putrid!
Comprehend now only
My period is run out
I am outmoded in the freshness of the world!
Jun 25, 2014
Jun 25, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
"looking at the future of your creation...
when creation is the art of being in the moment"
~program notes from the Grand Finale, a dance by Hofesh Schecter, choreographer, composer~
<•>
*as one who makes their living, affirms their existence,
by staring at the blue-white screen,
a blank black backdrop, an empty stage,
a blue lined spiral-notebook, stationary store fresh
thinking only of the inky black commandment of
what next -
a contradiction comprehended with perfect understanding,
for the composition unborn unimagined yet
shaping, chafing, child birthing, will be seeded thru
many tiny moments of webbed connected secretions,
imaging the whole, yet the future arrives serialized as drops,
slow and singular, additive and adhering, even addicting
throw them all up to the ceiling tableau,
a letter, a note, a visionary imagery
of many dancers bodies
in photo time-lapse time captured
what sticks, what returns, the returns
needy of refurbishment, a fresh dice throw,
the retrofitting of a new combination moment
thus the future forms, the wet moments fill the crystal glass,
spilling over, spilling out from within, when all spent,
all the next moments are silent, water stilling,
le futur est arrivé,
but the individuals that are its construct,
wave friendly to you, asking do you remember me,
tenderly, parentally, I concede to each their birthright,
how they transversed from the past,
presented into the future, only to arrive in
the here and now,*
as a present to us all
11/11/17 8:55am
Nov 11, 2017
Nov 11, 2017 at 2:13 PM UTC
The night has confided in me its secrets,
Revealing my paralleled selves.
We are all privileged, being depressed or anxious is hypocrisy itself
So
I've sat and thought ,
Time affirms knowledge
Though i am not my awarness,
I feel wired to a hidden intelligence,
Unfamiliar images, imagination,
Everything is a lesson,
Unlearn it to reach the destination
Gratitude brings bliss and peace of mind
do not underestimate the advantage of being ALIVE
Words Of Harfouchism
Jan 14, 2021
Jan 14, 2021 at 11:26 PM UTC
Love doesn’t question, it affirms.
Love doesn’t judge, it accepts.
Love doesn’t break, it firms.
Love doesn’t feel, it acts.
Love doesn’t count, it treasures.
Love doesn’t go one time, it stands forever.
Love doesn’t sugarcoat, it gives more than the world’s pleasures.
Love doesn’t hurt, it cures more than fever.
Love doesn’t smother, it comforts the broken.
Love doesn’t go short-tempered, it calms storms.
Love doesn’t pick, it gives all the chance to be in heaven.
Love doesn’t stop, it restores even homes.
Love doesn’t ignore, it answers the right verse.
Love doesn’t lose your way, it leads you not to drift.
Most of all, love doesn’t curse, it offers itself as a gift.
Jul 9, 2014
Jul 9, 2014 at 6:29 AM UTC
Silent carriage with no sounds,
Is it real?
I can see it, touch it, but still can't hear.
An empty voice directs my journey and affirms my belief,
no soul,
no thoughts,
it isn't real.
No shoes on the sleeping man,
with strangely odorless feet.
Nobody smells here, it's disturbing.
Bright, buzzing, neon-fluorescent lights of gold or yellow.
Burning my eyes.
Now i am blind.
This senseless, lifeless bubble is my ticket home.
$6.20 should get you more of an experience.
Not long now and my vision will return.
Hearing and smell too..
Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 9:25 PM UTC
'*“Music is one of the attributes of matter, into whatever forms
it may be organized”. - John Muir*
A song bursts out as I wander
through a glaciered valley -
richly coutured
in the opulence of spring.
Verdant grasses and Aspen leaves
have shaken off winter's pallor
to join voices with evergreens
in praise of new life emerging
out of the glowing, spectral universe.
The love of a doe guides her fawns
to finest grazing and sweetest waters
as the vibrant sun above
affirms its life-giving covenant.
If I cared, I might lend labels
to flowers, trees, streams and grasses
but have recused myself -
for the season's majesty demands
that nature do all the singing
and I do all the listening.
© 2017 by Robert Charles Howard
Jan 8, 2017
Jan 8, 2017 at 7:55 AM UTC
I make myself a ****** in a river rushing with hopeful ambition.
I listen to the whispers and jot mental notes on the subleties of conversation:
The gilded mistakes of over confidence and deviancy.
The honesty of misreading a situation.
The defeat in his voice, darkening eyes and flattened smile when she affirms the 'no' with which the conversation began.
All in all, a quite enjoyable evening for the ******
Jul 18, 2015
Jul 18, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
i curse myself
for the anxiety
i feel for those near
chomping
crystalline version of that
which makes us up
the cold that kills
or at least affirms death
for the stress
felt for the tears
shed
in times when i am away
or at least when
were apart
pulled in all directions
disoriented
for the swears
i murmur chilled
leaning
from the window
and the cold May breeze
blows back in
last weeks last smoke
two years ****** growth
can no more capture
the shameful smell
for the death
that arrives on my door
sandwiched
between what i need to leave
and what can open doors
door stop wedged firmly
needs to be withdrawn
call it what it is
ego
the curse
that lies between
choice observation and opportunity
im teaching myself
to ignore and adopt
curl up next to
failure finality
and future
without regret
regret?
to spit in its face
arms akimbo
nose neptunes way
grinning
and i pray
holding your hand
May 3, 2013
May 3, 2013 at 3:01 AM UTC
Time does not wait,
Change affirms its presence.
Time plays its tune,
Men are its puppets.
Time brings victory to men,
It also befalls them.
In the waves of time,
Sinks the glory
Through the trough
Shines the sun
Time always flies
And commands respect.
Time heals injuries
Rearranges thoughts in mind.
To time, we owe brightness
Smiles that ascend with time.
Sep 13, 2014
Sep 13, 2014 at 10:07 AM UTC
There is longing behind your eyes
A choir of whys spoken, yet the silence isn't broken
My saviour syndrome sits on white horse
A knight or nightmare?
I blame myself in the garden of blank stares
I stand alone, does anybody care?
Alone in the crowd
My only shroud or veil
Is the madness on which I sail
The forlorn hope
A ship without sails
It's mast clenched by the winds fingernails
Every moment either contradicts
Or affirms
I am having one of my turns
Reason the truth burns.
Sep 19, 2016
Sep 19, 2016 at 7:41 AM UTC
Until you have lived a blinded life;
Mistaking the voices of others as your own.
Until you have been shackled by chains of hesitation;
Unable to liberate yourself because you do not know of your own captivity.
Until you have become numb to the world around you;
Where pain becomes necessary only because it affirms your already deniable existence.
Until you and I can come to the realization that all we ever wanted was to understand.
Until you allow yourself to be consumed by the silence; finding comfort in emptiness
Until you lie in the dark for hours, questioning why you are still awake.
You will never know how it feels.
To be alone.
Oct 21, 2012
Oct 21, 2012 at 2:05 AM UTC
voices occur now,
or sprout up, one next to another one,
rowhouses built between
the natural divets and gaps
in our sound.
at first the male one starts chanting,
a softer female one sings next.
she affirms the divine hollow in each of our centers.
she says the first stage of the self healing has already begun.
Apr 20, 2013
Apr 20, 2013 at 5:01 AM UTC