Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
devine Jul 2018
i am me
you are you
let me be
you have no clue

stop talking like you understand
i'm tired of swimming toward your dreams
i can hear my heart stop beating
drowning in my own feelings
a shattered mind lost in sand
catastrophe appears on my screens

but i'm no God
no one in particular
the most ordinary thing
full of aspirations
imaginations
and colors

i'm not going back to the corner
i'm gonna run farther
i'm gonna make it better

the fire ignites
the ocean send its waves
raw emotion spilled into motion
it's not broken it's golden

why should i listen to others
when i own the colors
it's not only a caption
it's satisfaction

all the beautiful colors
took a long time to show
i do not fear it
i do not hate it

i'm proud
i'm shining colors
you can never see
Dr zik Jul 2017
Sun sets every eve
Sun rises every morn
Day splashes light in dark
Seed peeps out in a hurry
Bird tweets in joy full song
Departure needs forgiveness
Arrival bows in norm
O’ my Lord!
Bless me
---------------
My dear mother passed away on Monday, June 19, 2017. May Allah (God) bless her with Jannah. Amen!

Dr ZIK's Poetry
patty m Jan 31
Yesterday China shocked the world with its experimentation
of gene editing babies.  
A prominent US doctor took part in this experimentation.  

My daughter asked me, "wasn't it illegal to do this experimentation?

Yes my darling, it is illegal here in the US,  It's very dangerous to experiment on unborn babies or newly born babies, it's a genetic cocktail, and they have no idea of the consequences.    

Yet according to some people and new state laws, they can ****
the unborn or a newly birthed child without a blink of the eye. . There's no consequence or caring, they just ***** out a life.  Then they harvest the child's organs even the skin and sell it.  Quite profitable I hear. 

God bless the babies, who knows what these darlings could have accomplished, now we'll never know.
My granddaughter Abby almost died the day she was born.  She was out of the amniotic fluid and in extreme danger but we didn't know it.  Thank god, Kelly had a meeting for her diabetes that day, she didn't want to go but Mike took her.  When she got there they saw the baby was in extreme distress and performed an emergency operation.  She had to stay in intensive care for weeks with all kinds of scary possibilities hanging over her head .  But she battled through and thrived, How blessed is this gift, I thank God everyday.
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
I would not know that wounded hearts will never bend
Except it's by the gentlest wind
Had You not blown Your love on me

I did not know that arrows sprung with poisoned darts
Could be dislodged from human hearts
Till You began to set me free

How should I know that crushing loss can by its pain
Yield intimacy's most treasured gain
Unless You gave Your Word to me?

I could not know that failures worse than greatest fears
Might actually bless through staining tears
This soul undone by Your decree

But now I know that Love's own touch
Brings untold joy which healeth much
From One Who cleaves so faithfully
saige Nov 2018
he discovered
that he hadn't left his heart in
america after all
he'd just left it with
its owner
and here they'd found each other
again
in africa
as if she'd followed him
through eleven countries and
five years
just to give it
back
Alyssa Underwood Jul 2016
Can it love you like God loves you, with a love that is better than life?
Can it connect you to eternal beauty? Can it save you? Can it redeem you? 
Can it lift you out of the miry pit? Can it make you clean enough to finally feel acceptable?

Can it delight your soul to the core? Can it take your breath away with its faithfulness to you? Can it paint both sunrise and sunset across the sky to beckon your attention? Can it cause the breeze to blow and gently caress your cheeks? Can it send hummingbirds and wildflowers across your path to romance your heart? Can it parade before you the starry host and call them each by name?

Can it probe you to the depths and fill you with itself?
Can it rush to your aid riding on the wings of the wind?
Can it satisfy your hunger and thirst with bountiful things?
Can it give to you feet like a deer that you might dance upon the heights?
Can it arrange every detail of your life to draw you and drive you to itself?
Can it pursue you with all the resources of the universe?
Can it know you through and through and still desire you?

Can it raise you up and seat you in the heavenly realms and bless you with every spiritual blessing? Can it supply your every need out of its glorious riches? Can its grace be sufficient for you and its mercy help you in your greatest temptation? Can it pour overflowing comfort into you through all of your troubles? Can it reach down to draw you out of deep waters? Can it set you on an unshakable foundation? Can it bound across the mountains to come to your rescue? Can it make you lie down in green pastures and lead you beside still waters?
Can it walk with you through the darkest wilderness and never leave you or forsake you? Can it carry you when you are weak or have fallen? Can it let you rest between its shoulders when you are weary or burdened?

Can it escort you to heaven’s banqueting table
and spread its banner of love over you?
Can it hide you in the shelter of its wing?
Can it be your daily portion and immerse you in the boundlessness of itself?
Can it clothe you in robes of righteousness and garments of salvation? 
Can it give to you praise in exchange for mourning?
Can it bestow on you a crown of beauty for ashes?
Can it turn your wailing into dancing?
Can it flood you with peace like a river?
Can it fill your heart with joy in the worst of afflictions?
Can it know the way to lead you home?
Can it refine you in its fire and bring you forth as gold? 
Can it capture you fully even as it sets you fully free?

Can it ever truly be your Everything?
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VeKgfUGtcI0
hj Nov 2018
Bless her
Standing at the window
Wondering whether she should collect it
Or let it flow

Bless her
Bless her soul
Holding the pills
That wouldn't have been made if they knew who they'd ****

Bless her
Bless her soul
Questioning
if she'd ever feel whole
Hiding the pain inside
Tangle and untangle
Wind and unwind

Bless a girl
The world has torn
Bless her soul
That grew so tired
Bless her story
That lay untold
After her pieces
Fell to the floor
Bless her
And rest her soul
Bless her
Bless her soul
....
Blue Orchid Dec 2018
"Bless me,  Father,  for I have sinned."
She whispered
What she meant though
Was 'curb the arrogance in me
So I may lay down my questions
And bury my assumptions'
"Bless me,  Father,  for I have sinned"
She murmured
Even though the storm in her
Screamed 'stab the place in my head
Where my doubt imerges
And the spark in my heart
That hates to love the world'
'Restrain my hands
And break my fingers
For they will never seize
From creating blasphemy'
"Bless me,  Father, for I have sinned"
She thought it this time
While her lips said
'Forgive my mind
That lies to itself
And tricks its existance
With half truths
It won't believe
You'll see'
"Bless me,  Father,  for I have sinned"
She tapped the side of the wood
Mimicking the last song she drunk
Before hiding in the confessional
A last secret sin
She let herself indulge
"Bless me"
"Bless me"
She hiccuped
"Father"
Hiccups
"For"
Hiccups
"I have"
Hiccups
"Sinned"
She smiled
And walked out of the confessional
With her music filling her ears
Her lips singing away
To her hearts desires.
in my backyard
beautiful!
with alluring flowers
wild flowers, purple haze
green, with a shade of russet

Nature at it's very best,
the visual perception,
of my garden
brings,
to the mind and soul
a great aesthetic rapture!

This is my pagoda
I come here to meditate,
in the spectre
of beautiful  aura
and to be at peace with nature,

Amidst my temple
a spliff I shall spark
with a profound  purpose,
to bless my mind
and to bless my soul
with sagacity,
from the universe!
Johnny walker Jan 31
The old tree still standing In the field on a hill at the back of my home where once I played as
kid
Whilst climbing one day
a gust of wind came my way and blew me right off the
tree
lucky for me I had a soft landing and sat there on the ground laughing about It
The old tree still stood on the hill at the of my house
where once my
true love and I carved our names
It will always be there to remind me of the day we fell In love God bless her
soul
Carved names upon a tree of when we first fell In love
Where as one told me a Girl so Beloved
Whose White Soldiers fought hard to overtake
But Bless her River-Red Defense involved
Un-sully her Soft-Flaming Mind does make
Grateful for the Favour you volunteer
Though Shy, Cross-Country we can still befriend
Souls like you, Countenance; And in Best Cheer
The Angel whose Healing Hands recommend
May I know your Name? So that I Sponsor
At least in Spirit Common Bonds reveal
Hands clasped, and pray for Hope in your Honour
Dear Sweet Maple from Mountie's Duty - HEAL!
I'll let you Rest now. And Mum take over
To Pepper your Dreams on Light's recover.
#beccajayden
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2018
the angel amongst us

~for Alexander, master splasher~

flexibility is important when poetry writing in a warm tub and a long day ahead is scheduled; so willingly accept the autocorrect
for I am both an experienced poet and bath soaker and
believer in wondrous mystery and unexpected fumbles
that lead to to miracle touchdowns

~•~

the two mathematicians examine the angle, measure the degree of difference at intersection and bless it with an identity,
calling it by its name,
perhaps obtuse, perhaps right, perhaps both

two sets of eyes examine the angle,
study its ****** expression

the old man says:
see the angle on the clock formed by the big handle on the twelve and the little hand on the eight?

this is angle of eight o’clock:
time to stop the splashing and start the get-readying
for we have miles to go before the ocean can say hello!

little angel says angle no go
and slashes the water with both
hands to establish the firmness of his views
and change Einstein’s time from present to future

the angle depends on the perspective of the viewer

the old poet comprehends leaving a warm tub is a regretful thing

but he measures the degree of difference at this
intersection
of time and bath and blesses it with an identity

“time to go”

the angle of my angel is now 2 pointed arms, pointed straight up,
at the twelve o'clock,

as he stands up in fevered protest,
my arms sweep his little legs to
a point at eight o’clock,
angel, commenting on his swift flight
disputes the grandfathers physics

"no go now,
now go later^"

though the angle is unchanged
the perspective of time and space
(and traffic),
yet differs

one sees an angle,
the angel sees time
eternally folding in on itself


that is the angle amongst us
^Surprising as it may be to most non-scientists and even to some scientists, Albert Einstein concluded in his later years that the past, present, and future all exist simultaneously. In 1952, in his book Relativity, in discussing Minkowski's Space World interpretation of his theory of relativity, Einstein writes:

Since there exists in this four dimensional structure [space-time] no longer any sections which represent "now" objectively, the concepts of happening and becoming are indeed not completely suspended, but yet complicated. It appears therefore more natural to think of physical reality as a four dimensional existence, instead of, as hitherto, the evolution of a three dimensional existence.
Alyssa Underwood Nov 2015
Can it love you like God loves you, with a love that is better than life?
Can it connect you to eternal beauty? Can it save you? Can it redeem you?
Can it lift you out of the miry pit? Can it make you clean enough to finally feel acceptable?

Can it delight your soul to the core? Can it take your breath away with its faithfulness to you? Can it paint both sunrise and sunset across the sky to beckon your attention? Can it cause the breeze to blow and gently caress your cheeks? Can it send hummingbirds and wildflowers across your path to romance your heart? Can it parade before you the starry host and call them each by name?

Can it probe you to the depths and fill you with itself?
Can it rush to your aid riding on the wings of the wind?
Can it satisfy your hunger and thirst with bountiful things?
Can it give to you feet like a deer that you might dance upon the heights?
Can it arrange every detail of your life to draw you and drive you to itself?
Can it pursue you with all the resources of the universe?
Can it know you through and through and still desire you?

Can it raise you up and seat you in the heavenly realms and bless you with every spiritual blessing? Can it supply your every need out of its glorious riches? Can its grace be sufficient for you and its mercy help you in your greatest temptation? Can it pour overflowing comfort into you through all of your troubles? Can it reach down to draw you out of deep waters? Can it set you on an unshakable foundation? Can it bound across the mountains to come to your rescue? Can it make you lie down in green pastures and lead you beside still waters? Can it walk with you through the darkest wilderness and never leave you or forsake you? Can it carry you when you are weak or have fallen? Can it let you rest between its shoulders when you are weary or burdened?

Can it escort you to heaven’s banqueting table
and spread its banner of love over you?
Can it hide you in the shelter of its wing?
Can it be your daily portion and immerse you in the boundlessness of itself?
Can it clothe you in robes of righteousness and garments of salvation?
Can it give to you praise in exchange for mourning?
Can it bestow on you a crown of beauty for ashes?
Can it turn your wailing into dancing?
Can it flood you with peace like a river?
Can it fill your heart with joy in the worst of afflictions?
Can it know the way to lead you home?
Can it refine you in its fire and bring you forth as gold?
Can it capture you fully even as it sets you fully free?

Can it ever truly be your Everything?
~~~
A hero is a candle
who burns Himself to give light

Saints bless
by turning suffering to joy
In their pain and tears,
they help others smile.
patty m Apr 2016
From the winds they were spun,
notes that formed music, ethereal and sweet,
and from the stars, poetry sifted
into melody creating song.
    . . . How gloriously the blood stag rises.
sniffing air sweet with supplication
each syllable is a warm caress
each scent a flowered note
sifting softly through air.
        She watches them take flight,
shimmering stars or merely embers
falling to earth light as rain?
How easily their touch dispels heartache,
wrapped in moonlight and blue shadow,
anointed with the fragrance of spruce.

A rose becomes a kiss whose petals caress lips
with velvet softness. . .
Silent night, the entire forest is alight with magic fire.

. . . "Yet secret is poem's end,"
she says with a conspiratorial wink,
before running swift as summer fawn
scattering petals in her wake.

Gaia, bless this fern filled home.
ablaze with starlight and magic
the creatures of earth bow to you mother
all earth is green and new,
glistening
MisfitOfSociety Sep 2018
The bees don't care what you say,
The bees go their own way.
Don't be like a monkey,
Rather be like a bee,
You can't tell them what to do,
the bees just defy you.

You can hold down the seas,
but you can't hold down the bees,
Who are you to tell them what to do,
We are the many run by the few.

Newton is my god,
god is good,
god is great.
Forgive me father,
for I have sinned.
I am sorry,
for questioning thee.
Bless upon the fruit that fell and freed us!
Bless upon the monkeys that gave birth to us!
Bless upon the pictures that they painted for us!
Bless upon the cosmic scaled **** that made us!

You are my eyes,
my prophet,
my seer,
my revelator,
put thoughts in my head,
and I will repeat what you have said
Our thoughts are not our own,
We are not safe, even in our home.

Monkey see, monkey do,
we are the many run by the few.
Don't be like a monkey,
rather be like a bee,
don't do what they say,
forget what you have learnt and levitate away.
*** did I just write.
If you would study how such genes relate
That from the Jesuit ingenious he was
Then you should know how to connect and sate
That Real Thirsty Medal you always had
I'm glad it wasn't your Inheritance
Who signed the Credit of your Prolonged Win
And work you did for your Signature Stance
Which made most take ground from their Frigate Sin
Yet always remember those Heads who Cheer
And invested their Bets un-withdrawn
Which, knowing you human, avoided the Sneer
And saw that Best Blue Child since you were born.
About the genes, Dad's Living Light impress
Now Mum's Beauty Stamp; Your Smile did she Bless.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Drowning In ****
2016-06-15

I cannot let the **** win,
Wipe the smile from this old chin,
When I drown in ****’s frown,
My world is just plain upside down.
So much beauty there to see,
Nature, art, poetry,
Stars, moon, astronomy,
A bedtime prayer on tiny knees,
A stranger’s bless you when I sneeze.
Relics from an artist past,
Pyramids, lovely vase, wide Mountain path,
Days of life with loving wife,
Fruitful work beating strife.
So many blessings for you or me,
Fish that swim in open seas.
Cloudy sky, birds that fly,
Ice cream and apple pie,
A nurse’s care when I die.
Nature, flowers, birds and bees,
Fall colors in every tree.
Faith in friends, a warming bath,
A mother’s love, a cooing dove.
So many clips of **** news,
People lost, children bruised,
Fills my heart with aching pain,
Need to find beauty again.


B. T. Whittaker

Wrote this because nothing but horror seems to flood the news, coming up from the U.S. Some days I lose faith and cry for balance. Terror in neon right on the doorsteps. Repeated over and over on Canadian politics for bad decisions, bigotry, and hate.
Drowning in ****.
I couldn't resist reposting this. Not sure things are better for sure
The Heart-of-Promise, filled on his Wanton Day
Sorted the Journal to fix his Dates ahead
But the Noise down below would get in his Way
To record this Occasion; And the Dread
Of another Year before his License
To join the main and raucous World of the Teens
Each page A-Party; Each Chapter A-Spotting
And every Mouth speaks of Haves and Have-Beens
This is the Juice which every Child must Drink
Sour enough to turn his Locks into Stress
But the Door came A-Knocking; Mum held the Cake
Sixteen Candles he blew; And Hope came to Bless.
His Heart now strong; His Promise just fulfilled
And left his Room sweeping the Dust he killed.
#benjdaley
Bless me Uncle! God's given ***** Head
For finding a Mentor these Comms restore
And import a Friend brought Laughter instead
With a Learning Interest revived once more
For all our doubts, grateful Confidence brew
This shrill Vernacular you opt to Reach
Whilst you divulge Traded Secrets a-new
Shrieked the Blue Eagle; Sately-Done you Teach
That Part we will Miss! Surely Independ
When we of Soft Skills this Task inherit
What Pictures remain of Trust comprehend
We give back in Kind to Service, debit.
Difficult it is to Forget you by
As you climb the Stairs, we sing: "MABUHAY!"
Next page