"atoned" poems - Hello Poetry

"atoned" poems

Thursday, 1:36AM A conversation Stemming from a picture Posted on Facebook Over whether a volleyball is pink or bubblegum. You girls should seriously get your eyes checked Suggests its owner Because the volleyball is most definitely not pink Indeed bubblegum and white. It is sad, he says, That a college-aged person does not know The basic colors of life. He tells us I will pray for you As if we are the ones who need to be atoned. What is our sin? Hes wondering why God gave us such shallow minds And bad color perception. To this I take offense, especially since Perception is not spelled “p-r-e-c-e-p-t-i-o-n”. He brings Conception, Construction and Liposuction Into the mix. Where is this going I asked What is the relevance Of these things? He has no answer… The things I have learned from this are very clear: Pink does not equal bubblegum Facebook does not equal Intelligent conversation And owning a pink volleyball Does not equal being effeminate And whether male or female All are one.

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Dec 3, 2011

Dec 3, 2011 at 1:29 PM UTC

christa-leuning

Thursday, 1:36AM A conversation Stemming from a picture Posted on Facebook Over whether a volleyball is pink or bubblegum. You girls should seriously get your eyes checked Suggests its owner Because the volleyball is most definitely not pink Indeed bubblegum and white. It is sad, he says, That a college-aged person does not know The basic colors of life. He tells us I will pray for you As if we are the ones who need to be atoned. What is our sin? Hes wondering why God gave us such shallow minds And bad color perception. To this I take offense, especially since Perception is not spelled “p-r-e-c-e-p-t-i-o-n”. He brings Conception, Construction and Liposuction Into the mix. Where is this going I asked What is the relevance Of these things? He has no answer… The things I have learned from this are very clear: Pink does not equal bubblegum Facebook does not equal Intelligent conversation And owning a pink volleyball Does not equal being effeminate And whether male or female All are one.

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If it only were to be a lie, Watching my dreams end I smile, there's no more to them but a dead end, Unable to protect this fragile heart, unable to reopen my eyes I was killed, Brilliance, turning to ash in a firestorm of escaping emotions, If my birthed sins cannot be atoned in this hour, or at least forgiven, My shred blood drenched heart will never find it's ease or sublimate, Scattered like the flower petals after falling, To death, blinded by the love I put my trust and courage in, Just end it all, what is left for me here is destruction, My heart is dead, I cannot embrace, love it all as I always wished for, Everything is far too late, for never I will be able to return again, Give it back, please give it back, this emotion what makes me go ablaze, Burnt to the ground with no light to see I remember your smile, Now, as I am unable to breathe, I hoped if it only wasn't true, There are no words left to speak. ~Umi

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Apr 19, 2018

Apr 19, 2018 at 6:01 PM UTC

If it only wasn't True

If it only were to be a lie, Watching my dreams end I smile, there's no more to them but a dead end, Unable to protect this fragile heart, unable to reopen my eyes I was killed, Brilliance, turning to ash in a firestorm of escaping emotions, If my birthed sins cannot be atoned in this hour, or at least forgiven, My shred blood drenched heart will never find it's ease or sublimate, Scattered like the flower petals after falling, To death, blinded by the love I put my trust and courage in, Just end it all, what is left for me here is destruction, My heart is dead, I cannot embrace, love it all as I always wished for, Everything is far too late, for never I will be able to return again, Give it back, please give it back, this emotion what makes me go ablaze, Burnt to the ground with no light to see I remember your smile, Now, as I am unable to breathe, I hoped if it only wasn't true, There are no words left to speak. ~Umi

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They say, no man is an island Yet an island can be reshaped By a tornado, hurricane, or a earthquake Mother nature rules with an iron fist To place her stakes on the land of the living They say, no man is an island But there must be a better way For other nations and countries Come together and embrace To restructure our governments, Working together, rebuilding, maybe, even see The humanity in eachother giving To help those, who can not help themselves They say, no man is an island All the justice and laws in the world Wouldn't correct it's poverty In exchange, for it's wealth Animated politicians Speaking in tongues Atoned to be totally clueless Unaware of the next existing Killer of lives They say, no man is an island To forsee at last Battle of waves of storms to come Genocide, Nuclear, Wars Will come again, and again History repeats, in cirlces It never ends They say, no man is an island The inadequate versions of getting things right Should be a must, for the change with truth and trust People having the will or the lack of Food, water, protection, health care That ain't right To not be inform and share They say, no man is an island, But there's just has to be a better way People taken care of people Living life better than it once was yesterday Families who have lost, buried, and shed many of tears Placed their memories of loved ones To cross over into the light Have lost more than just a home, family, neighbors One thing one must not lose is The spirit inside to have They say, no man is and island For every man, woman and child Is of the land of their island Hope is not ones plan alone The plan simply is of many... Faith, Memories, Freedom, Dreams, and Hope

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Feb 13, 2010

Feb 13, 2010 at 1:59 AM UTC

"No Man Is An Island"

They say, no man is an island Yet an island can be reshaped By a tornado, hurricane, or a earthquake Mother nature rules with an iron fist To place her stakes on the land of the living They say, no man is an island But there must be a better way For other nations and countries Come together and embrace To restructure our governments, Working together, rebuilding, maybe, even see The humanity in eachother giving To help those, who can not help themselves They say, no man is an island All the justice and laws in the world Wouldn't correct it's poverty In exchange, for it's wealth Animated politicians Speaking in tongues Atoned to be totally clueless Unaware of the next existing Killer of lives They say, no man is an island To forsee at last Battle of waves of storms to come Genocide, Nuclear, Wars Will come again, and again History repeats, in cirlces It never ends They say, no man is an island The inadequate versions of getting things right Should be a must, for the change with truth and trust People having the will or the lack of Food, water, protection, health care That ain't right To not be inform and share They say, no man is an island, But there's just has to be a better way People taken care of people Living life better than it once was yesterday Families who have lost, buried, and shed many of tears Placed their memories of loved ones To cross over into the light Have lost more than just a home, family, neighbors One thing one must not lose is The spirit inside to have They say, no man is and island For every man, woman and child Is of the land of their island Hope is not ones plan alone The plan simply is of many... Faith, Memories, Freedom, Dreams, and Hope

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Do you remember That afternoon--that Sunday afternoon!-- When, as the kirks were ringing in, And the grey city teemed With Sabbath feelings and aspects, Lewis--our Lewis then, Now the whole world's--and you, Young, yet in shape most like an elder, came, Laden with Balzacs (Big, yellow books, quite impudently French), The first of many times To that transformed back-kitchen where I lay So long, so many centuries-- Or years is it!--ago? Dear Charles, since then We have been friends, Lewis and you and I, (How good it sounds, 'Lewis and you and I!'): Such friends, I like to think, That in us three, Lewis and me and you, Is something of that gallant dream Which old Dumas--the generous, the humane, The seven-and-seventy times to be forgiven!-- Dreamed for a blessing to the race, The immortal Musketeers. Our Athos rests--the wise, the kind, The liberal and august, his fault atoned, Rests in the crowded yard There at the west of Princes Street. We three-- You, I, and Lewis!--still afoot, Are still together, and our lives, In chime so long, may keep (God bless the thought!) Unjangled till the end.

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2k

William Ernest Henley

Envoy--To Charles Baxter

Do you remember That afternoon--that Sunday afternoon!-- When, as the kirks were ringing in, And the grey city teemed With Sabbath feelings and aspects, Lewis--our Lewis then, Now the whole world's--and you, Young, yet in shape most like an elder, came, Laden with Balzacs (Big, yellow books, quite impudently French), The first of many times To that transformed back-kitchen where I lay So long, so many centuries-- Or years is it!--ago? Dear Charles, since then We have been friends, Lewis and you and I, (How good it sounds, 'Lewis and you and I!'): Such friends, I like to think, That in us three, Lewis and me and you, Is something of that gallant dream Which old Dumas--the generous, the humane, The seven-and-seventy times to be forgiven!-- Dreamed for a blessing to the race, The immortal Musketeers. Our Athos rests--the wise, the kind, The liberal and august, his fault atoned, Rests in the crowded yard There at the west of Princes Street. We three-- You, I, and Lewis!--still afoot, Are still together, and our lives, In chime so long, may keep (God bless the thought!) Unjangled till the end.

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It all began with Love. Love beheld our frame; He looked upon our wretchedness and saw beauty. He looked upon the hatred in our hearts, And saw Love. Said Love, "I will shower my affection upon my beloved"; Then Love gave His most treasured possession —His only Son. So Love humbled Himself; He minded not the frailty of our frame, Nor the vainness of our nature. But He robed Himself in flesh, And came. Love sent not an angel, No, not even a cherub or seraph did He delegate. He sent the best resource there ever was; He came Himself. Then Love took our hurt, suffered our pain, experienced our rejection, endured our death on the Cross, and paid for our sins. So Love repaired the breach, and atoned for our misdeeds; Himself the Sacrifice, and Himself the Priest. Love broke our chains, that we may experience the Father's Love —undying, unbridled, and unrestrained. Then Love returned in the Person of the Holy Spirit; and Love stayed. Love taught, and Love played. Love sought, and Love found; Here is Love — Love Unbound.

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Sep 23, 2014

Sep 23, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC

It all began with Love. Love beheld our frame; He looked upon our wretchedness and saw beauty. He looked upon the hatred in our hearts, And saw Love. Said Love, "I will shower my affection upon my beloved"; Then Love gave His most treasured possession —His only Son. So Love humbled Himself; He minded not the frailty of our frame, Nor the vainness of our nature. But He robed Himself in flesh, And came. Love sent not an angel, No, not even a cherub or seraph did He delegate. He sent the best resource there ever was; He came Himself. Then Love took our hurt, suffered our pain, experienced our rejection, endured our death on the Cross, and paid for our sins. So Love repaired the breach, and atoned for our misdeeds; Himself the Sacrifice, and Himself the Priest. Love broke our chains, that we may experience the Father's Love —undying, unbridled, and unrestrained. Then Love returned in the Person of the Holy Spirit; and Love stayed. Love taught, and Love played. Love sought, and Love found; Here is Love — Love Unbound.

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Intelligence has evadade you As you allow what you think you want to slowly degrade your views, Nothing that fades away can ever be true, For even the old used to be new. What do you look for in love: nice assets and a face you can trust, Becuse anything sparkles when it's covered in rust. Sentiment and intellect were devoured by lust, And the only way to the top is made up of dust. Social scenes and social queens Require more costume than Halloween. Who wants to be stuck at seventeen? If you're not surrounded by faces, who will hear you scream? You engrave your expectations on the palm of your hands, Open them up to God, and plead for romance. For prayers only function as a form of demands That look no further than tomorrow nights plans. Who you know and how you're perceived, Cascades and tumbles down over your beliefs. Temptation wasn't as easy for Adam and Eve; Their apple held more than your money trees. Now there's nothing left but a rotten core, And casual small talk spilled out upon the floor, Seeping in and out of the wooden pores, Across scattered feet, too numb to implore. Afraid of the concept of being alone, You only accept what is already known, Living for the weekend so your efforts are atoned, Like David and Goliath, you have to stone or get ****** Bloodshot eyes and vacant stares, too deliberate not to go anywhere, Because sentiment means nothing to a generation who doesn't care About anything that holds less weight than the air, Unless it's about what you should wear. So bottle up your empty dreams and aspirations, Throw them to sea: an intellectual evacuation, You'll see more like them under medication, Because fitting in requires social sedation.

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May 4, 2013

May 4, 2013 at 1:09 PM UTC

Social sedation

Intelligence has evadade you As you allow what you think you want to slowly degrade your views, Nothing that fades away can ever be true, For even the old used to be new. What do you look for in love: nice assets and a face you can trust, Becuse anything sparkles when it's covered in rust. Sentiment and intellect were devoured by lust, And the only way to the top is made up of dust. Social scenes and social queens Require more costume than Halloween. Who wants to be stuck at seventeen? If you're not surrounded by faces, who will hear you scream? You engrave your expectations on the palm of your hands, Open them up to God, and plead for romance. For prayers only function as a form of demands That look no further than tomorrow nights plans. Who you know and how you're perceived, Cascades and tumbles down over your beliefs. Temptation wasn't as easy for Adam and Eve; Their apple held more than your money trees. Now there's nothing left but a rotten core, And casual small talk spilled out upon the floor, Seeping in and out of the wooden pores, Across scattered feet, too numb to implore. Afraid of the concept of being alone, You only accept what is already known, Living for the weekend so your efforts are atoned, Like David and Goliath, you have to stone or get ****** Bloodshot eyes and vacant stares, too deliberate not to go anywhere, Because sentiment means nothing to a generation who doesn't care About anything that holds less weight than the air, Unless it's about what you should wear. So bottle up your empty dreams and aspirations, Throw them to sea: an intellectual evacuation, You'll see more like them under medication, Because fitting in requires social sedation.

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leave me to precious illusions moments of bliss love imaged momentarily eases the thirst the dreaded melancholy until i am awaken re-remembering the gnawing thirst even at busy intervals never a stranger how i wish providence to come and quite me of melancholy impatient i am resentful, for unwanted experience that lacerated deep weak and regretful but always interchangeable never constant she has alluded me in youth i wonder in age have i atoned enough will she finally find me worthy uncertain of my fate i drift

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Jan 18, 2014

Jan 18, 2014 at 8:29 AM UTC

leave me to precious illusions moments of bliss love imaged momentarily eases the thirst the dreaded melancholy until i am awaken re-remembering the gnawing thirst even at busy intervals never a stranger how i wish providence to come and quite me of melancholy impatient i am resentful, for unwanted experience that lacerated deep weak and regretful but always interchangeable never constant she has alluded me in youth i wonder in age have i atoned enough will she finally find me worthy uncertain of my fate i drift

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What do I see, in the clear mirrored, a shattered image, not a reflection of who I am, a mask, weaved from the lies of a scared child, a poor shield from judgement, the mouth twisted into an infinite smile Tears streaming down, her hands tracing them down to my neck, fear, my mistress, it seems you ended my torment, after an eternity, however the chains of my past still bind me, to you, she traces my jawline, a knife, that I now wield, The mask shatters. What do we see, a lone child, scared and misguided, blade in hand, defiles God's temple, out of hate for himself, loved by some, who are blinded by love, respected by others, who can't see past the mask, hurt all who believed his truths, an evil thing love is, worthless to all who believe his lies. The boy longs to cry, tears flow no longer, the boy longs to bleed, until blood flows no longer, he should die, we should all perish, for the sins of a dreamer, can never be atoned for, for even now, I love you.

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Mar 16, 2021

Mar 16, 2021 at 6:03 PM UTC

The Many Faces of a Liar

What do I see, in the clear mirrored, a shattered image, not a reflection of who I am, a mask, weaved from the lies of a scared child, a poor shield from judgement, the mouth twisted into an infinite smile Tears streaming down, her hands tracing them down to my neck, fear, my mistress, it seems you ended my torment, after an eternity, however the chains of my past still bind me, to you, she traces my jawline, a knife, that I now wield, The mask shatters. What do we see, a lone child, scared and misguided, blade in hand, defiles God's temple, out of hate for himself, loved by some, who are blinded by love, respected by others, who can't see past the mask, hurt all who believed his truths, an evil thing love is, worthless to all who believe his lies. The boy longs to cry, tears flow no longer, the boy longs to bleed, until blood flows no longer, he should die, we should all perish, for the sins of a dreamer, can never be atoned for, for even now, I love you.

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The beauty of made beds? Irony on the verge of beauty cope? Settling bared for a beauty, in the name of sleep? A question of simplicity, for beauty to requite a hope? Soul, a passion has come, to ye... Let with solemn have, and the actual Powers that since, singing the soul of worth into view be The rage of decency, to earn the better of a future who... Pride is a laboring voice, with a moment to same notion Needfulness with a bared truth, eats from the hand of beauty Sound to solace, and the devil to see, is the world's sin Comparing *** with a riddance's dance, is only lucre How or the risks of hatred... Know love like a challenge of sincerity, that hasn't Adage and cares intoned with a house sulking, is terror's lead? When avid is a searching heed, it is a voice that wasn't... Save honor the time, and you will see... A choice of significance to a wish, larger than life atoned With the reasons of virtue, that began with a seeming victory Of life in the grasp of love, that has sat a champion of a soul, one... A chance meeting with something besides beauty...? Sour and in deference to liberty, the question of earned kind Is for the senses, of witnessing the grace it took, each Idea of life continuing to be, the reality we made, for a heart and a mind...

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Jul 8, 2024

Jul 8, 2024 at 3:01 AM UTC

The Cost Of Lies To Lives On The Verge

The beauty of made beds? Irony on the verge of beauty cope? Settling bared for a beauty, in the name of sleep? A question of simplicity, for beauty to requite a hope? Soul, a passion has come, to ye... Let with solemn have, and the actual Powers that since, singing the soul of worth into view be The rage of decency, to earn the better of a future who... Pride is a laboring voice, with a moment to same notion Needfulness with a bared truth, eats from the hand of beauty Sound to solace, and the devil to see, is the world's sin Comparing *** with a riddance's dance, is only lucre How or the risks of hatred... Know love like a challenge of sincerity, that hasn't Adage and cares intoned with a house sulking, is terror's lead? When avid is a searching heed, it is a voice that wasn't... Save honor the time, and you will see... A choice of significance to a wish, larger than life atoned With the reasons of virtue, that began with a seeming victory Of life in the grasp of love, that has sat a champion of a soul, one... A chance meeting with something besides beauty...? Sour and in deference to liberty, the question of earned kind Is for the senses, of witnessing the grace it took, each Idea of life continuing to be, the reality we made, for a heart and a mind...

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The day that must carry mourn Wouldn't surprise me if it stood gay The day where most would expect to hear cries Wouldn't surprise me if it stayed guffawed The day where my soul would deserve silence Wouldn't surprise me if it gets filled with jabber The day I shall be dressed in my wedding dress --- a stripped hood Wouldn't surprise me if it didn't shine any light I'd be disappointed not if the grave that would be expected to hold me as my bed Decides to throw me out instead For I, a guilt filled being, doesn't deserve a polite farewell Consequences of my crime-filled mind that religiously only deserves hell So carve on my stone when the time comes “In the memory of … a prostituted **** Who only wished to provide for herself in a land unknown.” Oh! Who am I kidding, I will not even be privileged to become a memory unless I atoned. ~ AllTheLovePS

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Nov 14, 2019

Nov 14, 2019 at 3:55 AM UTC

The day that must carry mourn Wouldn't surprise me if it stood gay The day where most would expect to hear cries Wouldn't surprise me if it stayed guffawed The day where my soul would deserve silence Wouldn't surprise me if it gets filled with jabber The day I shall be dressed in my wedding dress --- a stripped hood Wouldn't surprise me if it didn't shine any light I'd be disappointed not if the grave that would be expected to hold me as my bed Decides to throw me out instead For I, a guilt filled being, doesn't deserve a polite farewell Consequences of my crime-filled mind that religiously only deserves hell So carve on my stone when the time comes “In the memory of … a prostituted **** Who only wished to provide for herself in a land unknown.” Oh! Who am I kidding, I will not even be privileged to become a memory unless I atoned. ~ AllTheLovePS

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Silent morrow seethes with reverie Disdain knows conscious plight Such sweet tones, bereft of fate A calling to behold the Black Rose Awoken, seeing truth and trust Beseeched by wistful grandeur The spark which lights the fire, lit Blanketed upon darkened doubt Unrivaled in parity Unknown paths collide in curiosity Each day atoned by dauntless breath Exhaled, in part, in effortless fashion Connected by embraced truths Such beatific composure sought In empty eyes, the void refilled Intrigue, compassion, the rose blooms Sightless endeavor retains composure Meandering thought Heartstrings grasping at lovely ghosts Amid a flightless trek of intrigue Reprieve, connections awaiting home To seek the embrace of their shadows Faith breeds time to bear her visage Both lovely petals, and poised thorns Chance, beckoning to see it all through My Black Rose echoes fate, untold In whispers of silent fairytales withheld..

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Aug 16, 2020

Aug 16, 2020 at 1:27 PM UTC

Silent morrow seethes with reverie Disdain knows conscious plight Such sweet tones, bereft of fate A calling to behold the Black Rose Awoken, seeing truth and trust Beseeched by wistful grandeur The spark which lights the fire, lit Blanketed upon darkened doubt Unrivaled in parity Unknown paths collide in curiosity Each day atoned by dauntless breath Exhaled, in part, in effortless fashion Connected by embraced truths Such beatific composure sought In empty eyes, the void refilled Intrigue, compassion, the rose blooms Sightless endeavor retains composure Meandering thought Heartstrings grasping at lovely ghosts Amid a flightless trek of intrigue Reprieve, connections awaiting home To seek the embrace of their shadows Faith breeds time to bear her visage Both lovely petals, and poised thorns Chance, beckoning to see it all through My Black Rose echoes fate, untold In whispers of silent fairytales withheld..

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Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. So unassuming, he enters our world with shepherds lowly coming to adore this infant Lord who will freedom herald. Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. His star in the east did the magi see. A star never seen from the days of yore led them to this great child of low degree. Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. His birth this day is marked by angels bright. Singing with cymbals in a placid night, they ushered in peace from heaven's great door. Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. As foretold by the prophets and the law, He is born of a ****** chaste and meek. He will never loudly on the streets speak. Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. He is lowly with royal ancestry, born of David's revered noble gentry. Men's grievous sins His blue blood atoned for. Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. He came to earth with men to empathize. With us for each state he does sympathize. Our peace with God He came down to restore. Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. A unifying force who will world peace make. Men of different races sing to adore this Christ child who will their cleavages break. Christ was numbered with the poor at birth, and with the transgressors at death.

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Dec 28, 2020

Dec 28, 2020 at 7:24 AM UTC

Christ is born(The Paradoxical Christ)

Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. So unassuming, he enters our world with shepherds lowly coming to adore this infant Lord who will freedom herald. Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. His star in the east did the magi see. A star never seen from the days of yore led them to this great child of low degree. Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. His birth this day is marked by angels bright. Singing with cymbals in a placid night, they ushered in peace from heaven's great door. Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. As foretold by the prophets and the law, He is born of a ****** chaste and meek. He will never loudly on the streets speak. Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. He is lowly with royal ancestry, born of David's revered noble gentry. Men's grievous sins His blue blood atoned for. Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. He came to earth with men to empathize. With us for each state he does sympathize. Our peace with God He came down to restore. Christ is born this day with Bethlehem's poor. A unifying force who will world peace make. Men of different races sing to adore this Christ child who will their cleavages break. Christ was numbered with the poor at birth, and with the transgressors at death.

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you made a mold of me kept it in your idle hands blamed me for the past i know its fair in hopes of keeping peace i succumb to every speaking truth forget solicitude i owe my thirst to devotion now peaceful and pleasant we are nothing but ambivalent we feared an empty home now we live there falsely atoned i am too young i am too young

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Nov 9, 2010

Nov 9, 2010 at 7:46 PM UTC

sugar-coat an antidote

you made a mold of me kept it in your idle hands blamed me for the past i know its fair in hopes of keeping peace i succumb to every speaking truth forget solicitude i owe my thirst to devotion now peaceful and pleasant we are nothing but ambivalent we feared an empty home now we live there falsely atoned i am too young i am too young

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Hello my friends What do you love? Crave? Adore? Put above Every motive Every act... You are hooked And that's a fact! Albert Adler wrote of this What's YOUR bag? What's your bliss? ***POWER ACCEPTANCE COMFORT CONTROL*** You have a master... play a role. If power is your greatest joy You love your money. Love your toys, Then be ye girl Or be ye boy, You'll find that what you most enjoy Has the power to DESTROY! If acceptance is What drives your ink, You're all about What people think, You give ALL (including kitchen sink) If a bad comment Makes you drink... *You may need to Change your link!* Here's a thought May hit the bone Take you out o' your "comfort zone" You are out here all alone 'Til you believe That Christ atoned! Want to hold on to your fate? Have a fear that won't abate? It's not yet over... not too late! You can achieve a blissful state! This IS the TRUTH Which I have found. And, folks, I searched ALL AROUND! Until my feet hit Holy Ground Now the GOSPEL Is what I pound... *AND DON'T IT MAKE A LOVELY SOUND!* You are all engaged In a powerful thing. It is WORSHIP! How do YOU sing? What you do is your own style. But if it's your master, Can you smile? I'm profoundly glad That mine's WORTHWHILE! I move slow, sometimes plod, Most people find me very odd But the One I most applaud *Is a kind and loving GOD*. SøułSurvivør (C) 9/4/2017

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Sep 5, 2017

Sep 5, 2017 at 3:24 AM UTC

You reflect what you WORSHIP

Hello my friends What do you love? Crave? Adore? Put above Every motive Every act... You are hooked And that's a fact! Albert Adler wrote of this What's YOUR bag? What's your bliss? ***POWER ACCEPTANCE COMFORT CONTROL*** You have a master... play a role. If power is your greatest joy You love your money. Love your toys, Then be ye girl Or be ye boy, You'll find that what you most enjoy Has the power to DESTROY! If acceptance is What drives your ink, You're all about What people think, You give ALL (including kitchen sink) If a bad comment Makes you drink... *You may need to Change your link!* Here's a thought May hit the bone Take you out o' your "comfort zone" You are out here all alone 'Til you believe That Christ atoned! Want to hold on to your fate? Have a fear that won't abate? It's not yet over... not too late! You can achieve a blissful state! This IS the TRUTH Which I have found. And, folks, I searched ALL AROUND! Until my feet hit Holy Ground Now the GOSPEL Is what I pound... *AND DON'T IT MAKE A LOVELY SOUND!* You are all engaged In a powerful thing. It is WORSHIP! How do YOU sing? What you do is your own style. But if it's your master, Can you smile? I'm profoundly glad That mine's WORTHWHILE! I move slow, sometimes plod, Most people find me very odd But the One I most applaud *Is a kind and loving GOD*. SøułSurvivør (C) 9/4/2017

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Drip drip drip (to) flip the switch Lay you out remember this Flattened lines without a spine Backbone gone you're out of time What to do I'm split in two Halfway there we aren't through Needle's cold so veins can hold Nothing more than what you sold Took what's free atoned the sea Running red with all of me

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Jul 13, 2014

Jul 13, 2014 at 7:16 PM UTC

Drip drip drip (to) flip the switch Lay you out remember this Flattened lines without a spine Backbone gone you're out of time What to do I'm split in two Halfway there we aren't through Needle's cold so veins can hold Nothing more than what you sold Took what's free atoned the sea Running red with all of me

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I don't recognize that face - there is no memory, of him and me - it's erased hastily - smudged as my makeup bleeding from my eyes. how many broken promises fill the emptiness in a life; and the fear of being alone is like a watchful dog she sits and stares into the spaces that cannot be atoned. Which voice lies silent when shades grow brighter than light? Remorse taste like metal or **** as artificially sweetened lips. Familiar places will fall just as you will, fall into patterns of willful deceit - their shapes twist into grotesque masks that quickly transform to smiles when you look - see.

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Jan 13, 2015

Jan 13, 2015 at 3:14 AM UTC

I don't recognize that face - there is no memory, of him and me - it's erased hastily - smudged as my makeup bleeding from my eyes. how many broken promises fill the emptiness in a life; and the fear of being alone is like a watchful dog she sits and stares into the spaces that cannot be atoned. Which voice lies silent when shades grow brighter than light? Remorse taste like metal or **** as artificially sweetened lips. Familiar places will fall just as you will, fall into patterns of willful deceit - their shapes twist into grotesque masks that quickly transform to smiles when you look - see.

Continue reading...

Angels surround me Angels in front of me Mercy in action Souls united To the heavenly father Returning to the source Returning to their home Finding their place in heaven Their sins have been atoned Swallowed up by God Cleansed by the cross Swallowing the darkness In our hearts Once again Made pure

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Aug 24, 2012

Aug 24, 2012 at 1:27 AM UTC

Baptismal: A Temple Experience

Angels surround me Angels in front of me Mercy in action Souls united To the heavenly father Returning to the source Returning to their home Finding their place in heaven Their sins have been atoned Swallowed up by God Cleansed by the cross Swallowing the darkness In our hearts Once again Made pure

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The path of destruction Left in your wake Torn between love and being alone Never settled, never atoned The cycle will continue to go on and on You smile but internally you frown Your addiction has turned to attention You take for granted affection A real love fell into your lap But in your broken form You deemed yourself unworthy and undeserving Your sadness and emptiness continues to spread On your path of destruction There is no end Maybe one day things will get better for you And I hope they will I hope you find something real I hope you find a way to heal

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May 12, 2016

May 12, 2016 at 6:45 PM UTC

Path of Destruction

The path of destruction Left in your wake Torn between love and being alone Never settled, never atoned The cycle will continue to go on and on You smile but internally you frown Your addiction has turned to attention You take for granted affection A real love fell into your lap But in your broken form You deemed yourself unworthy and undeserving Your sadness and emptiness continues to spread On your path of destruction There is no end Maybe one day things will get better for you And I hope they will I hope you find something real I hope you find a way to heal

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My poetry ***** I've zero ***** To give my art My empty heart Devoid of feel Has no appeal Toward the sheep Who watch me weep A worthless sound A spring unwound Potential spent Becoming bent Approaching death Jehovah saith He shall be ****** The preacher groaned In deep denial We must revile All things defiled And we deny That one divine These horrors binds Into our lives As such we try In faith to live As we forgive Ourselves alone As He atoned For us, but you He would not do Predestination An invitation You can't take Unless you fake The way we do And say it's true What's in our book Just take a look And soon you'll see Reality Belongs to me --I mean to Him His power's within My mortal flesh And who would guess That it was me Was meant to be A chosen one A pointed gun At those He hates His wrath abates When fire is cold And time gets old As was foretold By prophets bold Great men of old Religion sold The people told Their word of gold But on inspection Their intention Is control To be the sole Proprietors And keep the people quieter

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Jan 26, 2022

Jan 26, 2022 at 11:10 PM UTC

My poetry ***** I've zero ***** To give my art My empty heart Devoid of feel Has no appeal Toward the sheep Who watch me weep A worthless sound A spring unwound Potential spent Becoming bent Approaching death Jehovah saith He shall be ****** The preacher groaned In deep denial We must revile All things defiled And we deny That one divine These horrors binds Into our lives As such we try In faith to live As we forgive Ourselves alone As He atoned For us, but you He would not do Predestination An invitation You can't take Unless you fake The way we do And say it's true What's in our book Just take a look And soon you'll see Reality Belongs to me --I mean to Him His power's within My mortal flesh And who would guess That it was me Was meant to be A chosen one A pointed gun At those He hates His wrath abates When fire is cold And time gets old As was foretold By prophets bold Great men of old Religion sold The people told Their word of gold But on inspection Their intention Is control To be the sole Proprietors And keep the people quieter

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I stand here on a dead staircase Leading nowhere that I can pace. I can’t run up, I can’t walk down So I just wait, wearing a frown. With no answer I do entreat With each day I lovingly greet You- a God, ghost, spirit or wight? I can’t hear you, I have no sight. In mirrors of conscience I see A caged bird that sings a plea For guidance, direction anew For some shine in a dark so blue A chance, a shot that brings some joy To be more than Destiny’s toy Don’t be cruel, don’t take away A fleeting hand, do make it stay As I reach for it with my will Collecting all talent, each skill To step out of that mighty steep Onto a cloud that I have reaped Pleasing the evil wraiths of Fate Neither too early, nor too late. The cloud is kind, for I can steer My way into a life so queer Beautiful, it is only mine A blessing undeserved, divine! Of that path I can merely dream In this cliff I can’t help but scream My legs are weary, patience thin The ground looms with an evil grin. I saw you, Opportunity You came, you asked, you conquered me I awaited more things to learn But You said “Wait, I shall return.” For months now I have screened the skies Wondering if what you said were lies. I want a response, Lady Luck! Or am I once more, to get ****** Work I shall, with all of my being Grant me the gift of my freeing! To all parts of this Universe This prayer, for a life less adverse That rings deeply within my bones A hope, that all sins are atoned A faith, that I will get my shot A plea, to design my own plot For that window to open twice A hand to get out of this vice To Heaven I sing, through my heart Please, I need some help to restart!

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Oct 14, 2016

Oct 14, 2016 at 9:09 AM UTC

The first precipice

I stand here on a dead staircase Leading nowhere that I can pace. I can’t run up, I can’t walk down So I just wait, wearing a frown. With no answer I do entreat With each day I lovingly greet You- a God, ghost, spirit or wight? I can’t hear you, I have no sight. In mirrors of conscience I see A caged bird that sings a plea For guidance, direction anew For some shine in a dark so blue A chance, a shot that brings some joy To be more than Destiny’s toy Don’t be cruel, don’t take away A fleeting hand, do make it stay As I reach for it with my will Collecting all talent, each skill To step out of that mighty steep Onto a cloud that I have reaped Pleasing the evil wraiths of Fate Neither too early, nor too late. The cloud is kind, for I can steer My way into a life so queer Beautiful, it is only mine A blessing undeserved, divine! Of that path I can merely dream In this cliff I can’t help but scream My legs are weary, patience thin The ground looms with an evil grin. I saw you, Opportunity You came, you asked, you conquered me I awaited more things to learn But You said “Wait, I shall return.” For months now I have screened the skies Wondering if what you said were lies. I want a response, Lady Luck! Or am I once more, to get ****** Work I shall, with all of my being Grant me the gift of my freeing! To all parts of this Universe This prayer, for a life less adverse That rings deeply within my bones A hope, that all sins are atoned A faith, that I will get my shot A plea, to design my own plot For that window to open twice A hand to get out of this vice To Heaven I sing, through my heart Please, I need some help to restart!

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[Click] O there is a blessing in this gentle breeze That of a childhood friend returning for a gentle kiss on the cheek O, sweet Mary, how did you bear the fruit of thy womb so that the winds of change may spread it far far and wide, far from a sparse city, so that a pilgrim may find freedom. Free as a bird, free from a bird, the sins of his past forgotten Not forgotten, but atoned for, O Friend What shall be my harbour, so that the winds the winds may take me from this place, through a clear stream of conscious reckoning, of conscious wreckoning avoided the heavy weight of a weary day, bears its fruit bears it burden, a burden burthen of a now flightless bird unable, disabled to the winds, to wind and soar and now, upon this water, carried by the same winds The earth is all before me, my journey is endless Immortally mystified at its own liberty. I remember this day, and the gentle zephyrs that brought me home ‘Twas Autumn, the waters were clear and placid I remember this day, as the gentle vortex kissed my cheek, stroked my hair a Vortex, that you, too, can have for 3 Easy payments of $19.95, only on HSN but that’s not all. [Click]

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Jun 13, 2012

Jun 13, 2012 at 6:12 PM UTC

Romance Novelties and Dime-Store Television: Part IV

[Click] O there is a blessing in this gentle breeze That of a childhood friend returning for a gentle kiss on the cheek O, sweet Mary, how did you bear the fruit of thy womb so that the winds of change may spread it far far and wide, far from a sparse city, so that a pilgrim may find freedom. Free as a bird, free from a bird, the sins of his past forgotten Not forgotten, but atoned for, O Friend What shall be my harbour, so that the winds the winds may take me from this place, through a clear stream of conscious reckoning, of conscious wreckoning avoided the heavy weight of a weary day, bears its fruit bears it burden, a burden burthen of a now flightless bird unable, disabled to the winds, to wind and soar and now, upon this water, carried by the same winds The earth is all before me, my journey is endless Immortally mystified at its own liberty. I remember this day, and the gentle zephyrs that brought me home ‘Twas Autumn, the waters were clear and placid I remember this day, as the gentle vortex kissed my cheek, stroked my hair a Vortex, that you, too, can have for 3 Easy payments of $19.95, only on HSN but that’s not all. [Click]

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Do not wake to life Wake to live Breath to want Look to see Don't be the blinded Open the window **** it in Taste the freedom New in pleasure Life begins Be not that man or woman In looking on past Four walls for your prison A shake of what if Atoned for good living I'll take it all now The cobwebs of freedom Come give me a bow As day lights my eyes I know I have won My journey has started A life has begun

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Jul 6, 2015

Jul 6, 2015 at 1:06 AM UTC

The Cobwebs of Freedom

Do not wake to life Wake to live Breath to want Look to see Don't be the blinded Open the window **** it in Taste the freedom New in pleasure Life begins Be not that man or woman In looking on past Four walls for your prison A shake of what if Atoned for good living I'll take it all now The cobwebs of freedom Come give me a bow As day lights my eyes I know I have won My journey has started A life has begun

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Through our time together I too learned a lot. I've taken the experiences and grown from them. I learned not to give up at the first sign of trouble. Sometimes the discomfort fear provides is necessary in order for us to better ourselves. I'm sorry for blowing things out of proportion. And mistakes I never atoned for. I'm sorry for the times I was so busy trying to fix you that I forgot to improve myself. I wish you many successes in your future.

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Mar 12, 2014

Mar 12, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC

Through our time together I too learned a lot. I've taken the experiences and grown from them. I learned not to give up at the first sign of trouble. Sometimes the discomfort fear provides is necessary in order for us to better ourselves. I'm sorry for blowing things out of proportion. And mistakes I never atoned for. I'm sorry for the times I was so busy trying to fix you that I forgot to improve myself. I wish you many successes in your future.

Continue reading...