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"christs" poems
99 cent wars, rooftops, Gibraltar Screaming "god bless the fabulous" Christs; In the eyes of years Man is king only over that which breathes, So let's throw hugs in the air, sit on flowers and vanish to Cook stones on the hips of Cleopatra with all of December's left footed children For through the cried ***** tears of furry German banana caskets, Eternity awaits In the failures of our greatest triumphs, So let's dance After all, Psychological Wednesday societies Are only good for curing Xbox manifestos and Tuesday sanities And if we died one day, it sure won't be yesterday.
0
Jul 9, 2013
Jul 9, 2013 at 7:41 PM UTC
All of December's Left Footed Children
**** men predatory *** hounds chasing skirts and tights aching **** idiots disciples of Eros Christs of fetish reconciling nothing veiling that principled demeanor of feminist culture "of don't objectify me".....translation sensual form is not natures ruse machine Eve must override override override well the id does not negotiate the superstructure of affected political tele-reality starring the liberal chattering class who speculate male motives to be some vainglorious power trip while corporatized media personalities feign out of control lust as a mental disorder and sit up like shuddering Pekingese yessing the lascivious as a fiction no ladies its not just power theories are not testosterone it is pure unadulterated relentless irreducible urge to merge like the beluga **** channel sea world as you've never seen it before where male dolphins batter and gang bang the weaker *** in search of feral harmony in an overbuilt society yet to become a civilization are we scissored between a wild ****** id of the damed and the Victorian sacred of the damed oh you silky damsels makin men moody and humid pure **** heroine a poison ivy of *** like a rash givin men folk the itch cant stop the twitch rubber ******* in a rubbing frenzy from your soaking heat and odor we are  a rumbling of muttering torments for the forbidden taste of you oooow oooow we are pan in a mad dance for glistening shanks and buttery kisses we are the early bird looking for the worm hunters decreed by the liturgy of heaven and hell a constellation of infatuation and lechery mad with adoration love slaves in a raging furnace of desire *** addicts that just say yes turgid dogs hole sniffers voluptuous monsters all johnny apple seed and sometimes your salvation as you are ours knowing that sometimes real eroticism eclipses morality and yes my darlings* NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
0
Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 12:55 PM UTC
THE TERROR OF WOMEN
**** men predatory *** hounds chasing skirts and tights aching **** idiots disciples of Eros Christs of fetish reconciling nothing veiling that principled demeanor of feminist culture "of don't objectify me".....translation sensual form is not natures ruse machine Eve must override override override well the id does not negotiate the superstructure of affected political tele-reality starring the liberal chattering class who speculate male motives to be some vainglorious power trip while corporatized media personalities feign out of control lust as a mental disorder and sit up like shuddering Pekingese yessing the lascivious as a fiction no ladies its not just power theories are not testosterone it is pure unadulterated relentless irreducible urge to merge like the beluga **** channel sea world as you've never seen it before where male dolphins batter and gang bang the weaker *** in search of feral harmony in an overbuilt society yet to become a civilization are we scissored between a wild ****** id of the damed and the Victorian sacred of the damed oh you silky damsels makin men moody and humid pure **** heroine a poison ivy of *** like a rash givin men folk the itch cant stop the twitch rubber ******* in a rubbing frenzy from your soaking heat and odor we are  a rumbling of muttering torments for the forbidden taste of you oooow oooow we are pan in a mad dance for glistening shanks and buttery kisses we are the early bird looking for the worm hunters decreed by the liturgy of heaven and hell a constellation of infatuation and lechery mad with adoration love slaves in a raging furnace of desire *** addicts that just say yes turgid dogs hole sniffers voluptuous monsters all johnny apple seed and sometimes your salvation as you are ours knowing that sometimes real eroticism eclipses morality and yes my darlings* NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
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102
How this could have happened I will never hear again but it happened all the same exactly this way. I was walking in Prairie Creek surrounded by my soon to become silent companions when I noticed events so strange. I dug my feet into the dirt they soon dissolved and roots were sprung a nervous system extending into the soil, oh the sounds the smells I felt. Where my skin once was bark began to emerge my fingers became tiny clones of myself each speaking different tongues I could not comprehend I made out these words "our time has begun. " I became a Buddha on the road a three quarter smile on my lips as my body grew towards the sun a thousand years was now mine and to it I did succumb. I watched the generations pass Christs come and go and come again. It all meant nothing to me at all as long as I have this fog that nourishes me and creatures living in the canopy. I stand at peace for centuries a thousand years and still my life is a five minute dream filled with all possible intensity and former attachments as the impermanence of the illusion of time was plain to see as human lives whirlwinds of experience dust devils blew by me. Lightening and fires burned me but I survived. Now that I stand in this silence lost in the meditation of dreams a solitary tree the last standing a brand new species born of evolutions breeding runs on the ground dancing on my grave I remember that first day the beginning of my thousand year awakenings I think it was only yesterday.
0
Jun 12, 2014
Jun 12, 2014 at 10:31 AM UTC
On Becoming A Redwood
How this could have happened I will never hear again but it happened all the same exactly this way. I was walking in Prairie Creek surrounded by my soon to become silent companions when I noticed events so strange. I dug my feet into the dirt they soon dissolved and roots were sprung a nervous system extending into the soil, oh the sounds the smells I felt. Where my skin once was bark began to emerge my fingers became tiny clones of myself each speaking different tongues I could not comprehend I made out these words "our time has begun. " I became a Buddha on the road a three quarter smile on my lips as my body grew towards the sun a thousand years was now mine and to it I did succumb. I watched the generations pass Christs come and go and come again. It all meant nothing to me at all as long as I have this fog that nourishes me and creatures living in the canopy. I stand at peace for centuries a thousand years and still my life is a five minute dream filled with all possible intensity and former attachments as the impermanence of the illusion of time was plain to see as human lives whirlwinds of experience dust devils blew by me. Lightening and fires burned me but I survived. Now that I stand in this silence lost in the meditation of dreams a solitary tree the last standing a brand new species born of evolutions breeding runs on the ground dancing on my grave I remember that first day the beginning of my thousand year awakenings I think it was only yesterday.
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84
I effortless pass through water like gliding through a silky air. And as you all sail through life you all sparkle with the idea of being near. As I am ultimate wisdom that comes in the form of joy and play. As the decks are silent splashes of water all over your faces. Then suddenly you all cry, " THE DOLPHINS ARE HEAR" A tingly excitement every where as though walking on a bubbly carpet. Everyone congregating at the side of the boat hoping to catch a bit of magic. Gasps and shrills as bounce and burst out of the water along side your boat. People stretching reaching as I offer a new hope the light of GOD. And when they return to the shore the story of the Dolphins like church bells ringing travels through the town. As everyone longs for Holy spirit they are eager to hear the story. As they learn about the Dolphin that came to there town they want to know who actually touched it. I am the spirit that visits the holy as I love those who are full but also empty. I come to those brought to the edge who stared down the cliff   but did not jump, as they chose life. And to those who's world said no with all doors closed because only they can listen. I come to those who have lost all will because only those let me carry them. I come to those who are broken as only they can be molded   I bring you many colours and inspiration sometimes I will make you dance and sometimes sing. I am the Pentacost,  holy Ghost and your Jesus Christs holy spirit. Sometimes when you swim softly through sweet watery emotion you will hear us talking. When you think all is lost you find yourself praying even though you think no one is there I will be listening. Feel like you are drowning grab my dorsal fin and I will give you a lift even make you laugh, make it fun even exciting. Lost at sea sharks prowling I will circle you as I will even fend of death for as I can also heal you.   Some will pen me in keep me in a small tank tech me a childish trick and manipulate. But only those bigger than pools more like the sea will know I have greater tricks to teach. As only those without plan and expectation can ever swim with me. As I will guide you on your hearts adventure into the free.   We will always love and seek to guide you as we look for you in the sea and gather around you in the bay. We will teach you how to channel to have an open mind to breath spirit through your head. And I will teach you how to be both the radio and the wave. How to be father Christmas, the chimney and the presents underneath the tree. So if you are needing help please look over hear we are listening. let yourself be empty and we will guide you. There is so much to learn from communicating and swimming with the Gods spirit, the Dolphin. So let us connect with God heaven and the Dolphin And be grateful for all her LOVE.
0
Dec 20, 2015
Dec 20, 2015 at 7:36 PM UTC
DOLPHIN
I effortless pass through water like gliding through a silky air. And as you all sail through life you all sparkle with the idea of being near. As I am ultimate wisdom that comes in the form of joy and play. As the decks are silent splashes of water all over your faces. Then suddenly you all cry, " THE DOLPHINS ARE HEAR" A tingly excitement every where as though walking on a bubbly carpet. Everyone congregating at the side of the boat hoping to catch a bit of magic. Gasps and shrills as bounce and burst out of the water along side your boat. People stretching reaching as I offer a new hope the light of GOD. And when they return to the shore the story of the Dolphins like church bells ringing travels through the town. As everyone longs for Holy spirit they are eager to hear the story. As they learn about the Dolphin that came to there town they want to know who actually touched it. I am the spirit that visits the holy as I love those who are full but also empty. I come to those brought to the edge who stared down the cliff   but did not jump, as they chose life. And to those who's world said no with all doors closed because only they can listen. I come to those who have lost all will because only those let me carry them. I come to those who are broken as only they can be molded   I bring you many colours and inspiration sometimes I will make you dance and sometimes sing. I am the Pentacost,  holy Ghost and your Jesus Christs holy spirit. Sometimes when you swim softly through sweet watery emotion you will hear us talking. When you think all is lost you find yourself praying even though you think no one is there I will be listening. Feel like you are drowning grab my dorsal fin and I will give you a lift even make you laugh, make it fun even exciting. Lost at sea sharks prowling I will circle you as I will even fend of death for as I can also heal you.   Some will pen me in keep me in a small tank tech me a childish trick and manipulate. But only those bigger than pools more like the sea will know I have greater tricks to teach. As only those without plan and expectation can ever swim with me. As I will guide you on your hearts adventure into the free.   We will always love and seek to guide you as we look for you in the sea and gather around you in the bay. We will teach you how to channel to have an open mind to breath spirit through your head. And I will teach you how to be both the radio and the wave. How to be father Christmas, the chimney and the presents underneath the tree. So if you are needing help please look over hear we are listening. let yourself be empty and we will guide you. There is so much to learn from communicating and swimming with the Gods spirit, the Dolphin. So let us connect with God heaven and the Dolphin And be grateful for all her LOVE.
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88
Sable, the swallow rising as it banks over the white conduits of marrow in the body, rain slashes through the honey locust, along the long ellipse of its hunt as savage dragonflies rise from stems to cling, a deep sienna of doeskin tremors over their sting, catkins, an aftermath, melancholy to the skin soaked in white calla, its reticence assails the sleeping orchards of the heart, in its darkest sheaves, to cleave apart the soft joining of lips and silence me; for eternity is this moment, and the light you give cloaks me in a coat of flames, the burnt locust of slaughter, taunt the rubric of Christs hidden scriptures, as I night, the body, solely a vessel of shadow, returning through a field of windfall, ripe with wasps, echo you in me, a dream of a dream dream't, in the dim recess of light your lips close like a sutra over mine, a brutality of moments ground out of thick pine, as the fine agony of cricket ballets rise shivering, to stillness, this silence is a lotus, a blue psalm, throttles the throat, as a quorum of swallows gather between the swathes of sunlight and skewed shadows, and lift as one body, subsumed by our abandoned depths, out of exile, you have made me a homeland of truant light and as I night, lightning opens like scripture, a black plea, poured over some sore refuge, and so that I may never be restored, cloak me in a coat of flames, suffering an ecstasy of moments hardened in amber, over the white conduits of marrow in the savage body, writhe a black throng of swallows, assail the sleeping orchards of the heart, in its darkest sheaves, to cleave apart the soft joining of lips and silence me....
0
Dec 4, 2012
Dec 4, 2012 at 4:05 PM UTC
The Black Kiss
Sable, the swallow rising as it banks over the white conduits of marrow in the body, rain slashes through the honey locust, along the long ellipse of its hunt as savage dragonflies rise from stems to cling, a deep sienna of doeskin tremors over their sting, catkins, an aftermath, melancholy to the skin soaked in white calla, its reticence assails the sleeping orchards of the heart, in its darkest sheaves, to cleave apart the soft joining of lips and silence me; for eternity is this moment, and the light you give cloaks me in a coat of flames, the burnt locust of slaughter, taunt the rubric of Christs hidden scriptures, as I night, the body, solely a vessel of shadow, returning through a field of windfall, ripe with wasps, echo you in me, a dream of a dream dream't, in the dim recess of light your lips close like a sutra over mine, a brutality of moments ground out of thick pine, as the fine agony of cricket ballets rise shivering, to stillness, this silence is a lotus, a blue psalm, throttles the throat, as a quorum of swallows gather between the swathes of sunlight and skewed shadows, and lift as one body, subsumed by our abandoned depths, out of exile, you have made me a homeland of truant light and as I night, lightning opens like scripture, a black plea, poured over some sore refuge, and so that I may never be restored, cloak me in a coat of flames, suffering an ecstasy of moments hardened in amber, over the white conduits of marrow in the savage body, writhe a black throng of swallows, assail the sleeping orchards of the heart, in its darkest sheaves, to cleave apart the soft joining of lips and silence me....
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60
In Memoriam What's missing is the eyeballs in each of us, but it doesn't matter because you've got the bucks, the bucks, the bucks. You let me touch them, ****** the green faces lick at their numbers and it lets you be my "Daddy!" "Daddy!" and though I fought all alone with molesters and crooks, I knew your money would save me, your courage, your "I've had considerable experience as a soldier... fighting to win millions for myself, it's true. But I did win," and me praying for "our men out there" just made it okay to be an orphan whose blood was no one's, whose curls were hung up on a wire machine and electrified, while you built and unbuilt intrigues called nations, and did in the bad ones, always, always, and always came at my perils, the black Christs of childhood, always came when my heart stood naked in the street and they threw apples at it or twelve-day-old-dead-fish. "Daddy!" "Daddy," we all won that war, when you sang me the money songs Annie, Annie you sang and I knew you drove a pure gold car and put diamonds in you coke for the crunchy sound, the adorable sound and the moon too was in your portfolio, as well as the ocean with its sleepy dead. And I was always brave, wasn't I? I never bled? I never saw a man expose himself. No. No. I never saw a drunkard in his blubber. I never let lightning go in one car and out the other. And all the men out there were never to come. Never, like a deluge, to swim over my ******* and lay their lamps in my insides. No. No. Just me and my "Daddy" and his tempestuous bucks rolling in them like corn flakes and only the bad ones died. But I died yesterday, "Daddy," I died, swallowing the Nazi-Jap animal and it won't get out it keeps knocking at my eyes, my big orphan eyes, kicking! Until eyeballs pop out and even my dog puts up his four feet and lets go of his military secret with his big red tongue flying up and down like yours should have as we board our velvet train.
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2.5k
"Daddy" Warbucks
In Memoriam What's missing is the eyeballs in each of us, but it doesn't matter because you've got the bucks, the bucks, the bucks. You let me touch them, ****** the green faces lick at their numbers and it lets you be my "Daddy!" "Daddy!" and though I fought all alone with molesters and crooks, I knew your money would save me, your courage, your "I've had considerable experience as a soldier... fighting to win millions for myself, it's true. But I did win," and me praying for "our men out there" just made it okay to be an orphan whose blood was no one's, whose curls were hung up on a wire machine and electrified, while you built and unbuilt intrigues called nations, and did in the bad ones, always, always, and always came at my perils, the black Christs of childhood, always came when my heart stood naked in the street and they threw apples at it or twelve-day-old-dead-fish. "Daddy!" "Daddy," we all won that war, when you sang me the money songs Annie, Annie you sang and I knew you drove a pure gold car and put diamonds in you coke for the crunchy sound, the adorable sound and the moon too was in your portfolio, as well as the ocean with its sleepy dead. And I was always brave, wasn't I? I never bled? I never saw a man expose himself. No. No. I never saw a drunkard in his blubber. I never let lightning go in one car and out the other. And all the men out there were never to come. Never, like a deluge, to swim over my ******* and lay their lamps in my insides. No. No. Just me and my "Daddy" and his tempestuous bucks rolling in them like corn flakes and only the bad ones died. But I died yesterday, "Daddy," I died, swallowing the Nazi-Jap animal and it won't get out it keeps knocking at my eyes, my big orphan eyes, kicking! Until eyeballs pop out and even my dog puts up his four feet and lets go of his military secret with his big red tongue flying up and down like yours should have as we board our velvet train.
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55
I I never saw a mountain move by the pure grace of love, But by desire, I saw a continent dragged to the tip of the sun. I saw the sea raising its current, trying to ****** some star, like the blood in your stream, while someone else made love to you. And I lost the will to live, and the desire to die chained to your altar. And the hummingbird he put on your lips, it splattered you of freedom, but in its hum you found a prision for two pigeons with no course, for the canary I left in your hand. and it was not from love, it was of pure desire that you opened your mouth and closed your fist. And I lost the desire to die, and the will to live Chained to your altar, As if there was no other God! That I could worship As if there was no other God! To which I could kneel As if there was no other God! II All these men on the pedestal, and if each one is given a cross, How many gods will we praise? How many won't be dead Christs ? How many won't be stained sheets? How many, on Easter Sunday will not even face God? Goodbye. I opened my mouth and I created you a universe, I showed you the tiger and the dove, I planted on your chest an ivy and a rose, I watered you of morning and sun, and still, you preferred to go down to hell, with the loneliness, the bone and the shadow a snake and a red moon For his tired eyes, for his bitter smile, for his brown hair, and hands that had never touched you, and a horseman that won't ride you, a street on which you never cried before, and any other meridian time. For some other Adam that galloped away from a paradise he did not find in your summer, a string of few beads that is embedded in the ground where I bloomed, where a tree of blood and prayer grows, that in each fruit bears my flesh and the seed of another God.
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Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 11:55 AM UTC
Another God
I I never saw a mountain move by the pure grace of love, But by desire, I saw a continent dragged to the tip of the sun. I saw the sea raising its current, trying to ****** some star, like the blood in your stream, while someone else made love to you. And I lost the will to live, and the desire to die chained to your altar. And the hummingbird he put on your lips, it splattered you of freedom, but in its hum you found a prision for two pigeons with no course, for the canary I left in your hand. and it was not from love, it was of pure desire that you opened your mouth and closed your fist. And I lost the desire to die, and the will to live Chained to your altar, As if there was no other God! That I could worship As if there was no other God! To which I could kneel As if there was no other God! II All these men on the pedestal, and if each one is given a cross, How many gods will we praise? How many won't be dead Christs ? How many won't be stained sheets? How many, on Easter Sunday will not even face God? Goodbye. I opened my mouth and I created you a universe, I showed you the tiger and the dove, I planted on your chest an ivy and a rose, I watered you of morning and sun, and still, you preferred to go down to hell, with the loneliness, the bone and the shadow a snake and a red moon For his tired eyes, for his bitter smile, for his brown hair, and hands that had never touched you, and a horseman that won't ride you, a street on which you never cried before, and any other meridian time. For some other Adam that galloped away from a paradise he did not find in your summer, a string of few beads that is embedded in the ground where I bloomed, where a tree of blood and prayer grows, that in each fruit bears my flesh and the seed of another God.
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58
Not that I love thy children, whose dull eyes See nothing save their own unlovely woe, Whose minds know nothing, nothing care to know,— But that the roar of thy Democracies, Thy reigns of Terror, thy great Anarchies, Mirror my wildest passions like the sea And give my rage a brother—! Liberty! For this sake only do thy dissonant cries Delight my discreet soul, else might all kings By ****** knout or treacherous cannonades Rob nations of their rights inviolate And I remain unmoved—and yet, and yet, These Christs that die upon the barricades, God knows it I am with them, in some things.
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1.5k
Sonnet To Liberty
Oh Lord my Redeemer Lord of all surveyed, Walk with me this morning in all beauty displayed; Washed in your blood now my eyes do see all i'd since forgotten that you always walked with me; and when this day is over and the twilight fades a way, I'll lift mine eyes to heaven In Christ I will pray; Oh Lord my Redeemer forgive my sins this eve, know that I am faithful know that I believe; Thank you Lord for bounties I'd long forgotten them, I Thank You for Salvation and the Joy to walk with him; When my day is over and my portion met, Let me see heavens' beauty A sight I won't forget; Thanks to all your glory My sins you've cast away, Thank You my Redeemer In Christs name I Pray! Amen
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Sep 8, 2014
Sep 8, 2014 at 9:36 AM UTC
MY REDEEMER
I This is the Month, and this the happy morn Wherin the Son of Heav’ns eternal King, Of wedded Maid, and ****** Mother born, Our great redemption from above did bring; For so the holy sages once did sing, That he our deadly forfeit should release, And with his Father work us a perpetual peace. II That glorious Form, that Light unsufferable, And that far-beaming blaze of Majesty, Wherwith he wont at Heav’ns high Councel-Table, To sit the midst of Trinal Unity, He laid aside; and here with us to be, Forsook the Courts of everlasting Day, And chose with us a darksom House of mortal Clay. III Say Heav’nly Muse, shall not thy sacred vein Afford a present to the Infant God? Hast thou no vers, no hymn, or solemn strein, To welcom him to this his new abode, Now while the Heav’n by the Suns team untrod, Hath took no print of the approching light, And all the spangled host keep watch in squadrons bright? IV See how from far upon the Eastern rode The Star-led Wisards haste with odours sweet, O run, prevent them with thy humble ode, And lay it lowly at his blessed feet; Have thou the honour first, thy Lord to greet, And joyn thy voice unto the Angel Quire, From out his secret Altar toucht with hallow’d fire.
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1.5k
On The Morning Of Christs Nativity
When you watch it bleed, thoughts provoked by unspoken words, careless whispers, thrown into turmoil, vision so blurred that you cannot see,   you lie to your soul but it already knows the truth, blind gods and meaningless christs, swim for the shore, to horizons lights, cling to the things that make it alright.
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Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 11:19 PM UTC
Blind gods
An early waking For today Remembering christs Stone rolled Away. We have hope In the new Next day Forever living Beyond the grave.
0
Mar 27, 2016
Mar 27, 2016 at 9:01 AM UTC
él ha resucitado
Maybe I just can’t hear it Maybe, but probably not What if someone comes along after all, what if all I need to do is sit Sit right here where he told me too Like a child scolded and sent to his room Just because he asked, “Daddy, when’s dinner?” He only asked cause he felt like he hadn't eaten since last winter I swear by my own life I’m listening Maybe I just can’t hear it Maybe, but probably not But, who knows? Maybe I’m asking the wrong questions? Maybe I’m destined to a life of harsh lessons so I can relay the message Maybe, but probably not Probably just isn’t good enough for me How many years of this lay ahead? Two? Three? Surely it can’t be that many The trick to practiced apathy is that it tends to never leave I’ve known the uncaring flag I’ve flown so long that I’ve forgotten your name after that day The passion part of my brain was never the same It doesn’t boad well for my attempts to stay sane Sometimes having the strength to carry my own cross really ***** Because it seems no matter how much slack you pick up the world weighs the same I’m not sure if I can listen to one more someone complain about the pain because honestly I don’t care who hurts the most, I don’t care what you’ve gone through because you're here now, and for Christs sake quit looking behind you! Nobody’s back there! You keep talking and saying “But look where I've been!” I don’t care! Give me a thousand whens, a thousand wheres, Go ahead, sit down, have some coffee... Share But if by the end of the day you’re still looking over your shoulder then there’s nothing anyone can do for you so stop groveling The only person who you can sell your soul to is yourself and the buy back price is steep, so take a step before you make a promise you can’t keep. The buy back price is steep.
0
Jun 5, 2014
Jun 5, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
Maybe
Maybe I just can’t hear it Maybe, but probably not What if someone comes along after all, what if all I need to do is sit Sit right here where he told me too Like a child scolded and sent to his room Just because he asked, “Daddy, when’s dinner?” He only asked cause he felt like he hadn't eaten since last winter I swear by my own life I’m listening Maybe I just can’t hear it Maybe, but probably not But, who knows? Maybe I’m asking the wrong questions? Maybe I’m destined to a life of harsh lessons so I can relay the message Maybe, but probably not Probably just isn’t good enough for me How many years of this lay ahead? Two? Three? Surely it can’t be that many The trick to practiced apathy is that it tends to never leave I’ve known the uncaring flag I’ve flown so long that I’ve forgotten your name after that day The passion part of my brain was never the same It doesn’t boad well for my attempts to stay sane Sometimes having the strength to carry my own cross really ***** Because it seems no matter how much slack you pick up the world weighs the same I’m not sure if I can listen to one more someone complain about the pain because honestly I don’t care who hurts the most, I don’t care what you’ve gone through because you're here now, and for Christs sake quit looking behind you! Nobody’s back there! You keep talking and saying “But look where I've been!” I don’t care! Give me a thousand whens, a thousand wheres, Go ahead, sit down, have some coffee... Share But if by the end of the day you’re still looking over your shoulder then there’s nothing anyone can do for you so stop groveling The only person who you can sell your soul to is yourself and the buy back price is steep, so take a step before you make a promise you can’t keep. The buy back price is steep.
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there was a girl sitting at my grave in the middle of the woods at night she looked like she was born to live under the moonlight I came up from behind and told her that it's alright, to dance on my grave 'cause I'd rather laugh about all those times we were told to behave she asked me how I died, said that the train rider wanted me dead he had an empty dollar figure reward on my head I turned around and showed her the knife in my back came around full circle and said, let's never look back 'cause I think too many people say that and never mean it yet for some reason I believe I mean it when I'm looking at you 'cuse I think about all those times, I told my gravediggers to beat it yet somehow when you stomp on my grave, I feel new it's why I came out from underneath my tombstone 'cause I felt something that reminded me of home it was nothing more than a vibration a sound I was within, where I've always felt alone sorry if my boney hands frightened you as they clawed their way up from underneath the dirt sorry if my dangling eye ***** made you feel uneasy I was only trying to flirt she told me that she thought she knew me never saying a word and when she opened her mouth out came a blackbird as if to say hey I think I get you as if to say hey I'm grey too yea the black of the black bird clashed so beautifully against her white teeth I think I knew that this girl most definitely came from that place beneath that place which seemed at first like Hell a place that seemed so far away yet so close a place that feels as familiar as the haunting of a ghost yea this girl was braver than those I knew most braver than the Devil braver than Jesus Christs most daring boast when he died on the cross and said it was God who he loved most yea, she started laughing yea, we were dancing we were dancing on our grave laughing about all the times we were told to behave
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Jul 30, 2013
Jul 30, 2013 at 7:33 PM UTC
love is dead
there was a girl sitting at my grave in the middle of the woods at night she looked like she was born to live under the moonlight I came up from behind and told her that it's alright, to dance on my grave 'cause I'd rather laugh about all those times we were told to behave she asked me how I died, said that the train rider wanted me dead he had an empty dollar figure reward on my head I turned around and showed her the knife in my back came around full circle and said, let's never look back 'cause I think too many people say that and never mean it yet for some reason I believe I mean it when I'm looking at you 'cuse I think about all those times, I told my gravediggers to beat it yet somehow when you stomp on my grave, I feel new it's why I came out from underneath my tombstone 'cause I felt something that reminded me of home it was nothing more than a vibration a sound I was within, where I've always felt alone sorry if my boney hands frightened you as they clawed their way up from underneath the dirt sorry if my dangling eye ***** made you feel uneasy I was only trying to flirt she told me that she thought she knew me never saying a word and when she opened her mouth out came a blackbird as if to say hey I think I get you as if to say hey I'm grey too yea the black of the black bird clashed so beautifully against her white teeth I think I knew that this girl most definitely came from that place beneath that place which seemed at first like Hell a place that seemed so far away yet so close a place that feels as familiar as the haunting of a ghost yea this girl was braver than those I knew most braver than the Devil braver than Jesus Christs most daring boast when he died on the cross and said it was God who he loved most yea, she started laughing yea, we were dancing we were dancing on our grave laughing about all the times we were told to behave
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BATTERED CHILD’S TESTIMONY Ayad Gharbawi 1995 A sunshine that sparkled quietly Rainbows of necessary ambitions that wilt Oceans of hate collapse in evil Evil for fun, evil for no reason A sunshine someone dreamed of Dreaming from the sorrows of the crooked, Twisted and repeated years Where a little girl receives **** as Man’s Reason and desire’s needs. Life anywhere continues Ancient woman weeping Modern woman crying The intervals and gaps mean nothing to me For the bleeding ones They march in circles Circles vague as their lives prescribed. Irrelevance is a powerful concept today I exist here today Soon, I shall be as ancient as the others While the intelligent people continue With their words of reasons and smugness Students in classrooms I have never seen Pour out their literature on sanity and its values And are repeatedly taught The intricate values of zero; Out there, children on drugs and dull careers And learning Evil’s persistent wisdom. Trust the none Hate the all Survive for the only one That is you. And you may feel And achieve a measure Of dust’s worth While the storms of the powerful May stampede upon your heart and love What you feel, my imaginary friend Is an act of irrelevance Irrelevance to the globe of toiling people What you feel, you must forget What you love, you must abandon. And, as you shall wilt soon You too must turn away And face the death of the Meek The death of the unknown Christs.
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Dec 23, 2009
Dec 23, 2009 at 6:45 AM UTC
BATTERED CHILD'S TESTIMONY - Ayad Gharbawi
Smoke a blunt, pack a bowl send me on my way. Feeling better but feeling worse every single day. Dont know what to do about this vicious circle im stuck in. All I can do is give it to God and let the healing begin. But I still miss it everyday and Im not sure why. Why do I love it so much and always wanna get high. No where else to turn so Im on my knees prayin. Let God take it over cuz dood he aint playin. I got the Jesus man holdin it down fightin temptation. And I cant stop pushin now cuz Im building up Christs nation. I know that Christ will use me for the greater good. Just gotta get my story across and be understood. Cuz I been thru the tradjedies and tried to escape it. But I had to face reality and Im proud that I made it. And I couldnt do it without Him yeah my savior till the end. Only following Jesus not just following some trend. And nobody can stop me even though satan will try. But Ima prove him wrong its just a matter of time. Cuz Ima find the best of me and use it to serve the Lord. Even if its just my rhymes I wont be ignored.
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Sep 16, 2010
Sep 16, 2010 at 7:03 PM UTC
The High Life.
I don't associate well with anti-Christs, false prophets, and freelance pharisees. I don't concur with tax collectors and their dreaded ideas to wrench the world of its money. A friend once told me I am ******* heartless. She's never met these people before.
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Jun 3, 2011
Jun 3, 2011 at 4:25 PM UTC
Anti-Christs
LISTEN TO ME! – THE MADMAN! Oct 15 2009 – Damascus, Syria Ayad Gharbawi Feeling feelings That come from nowhere Sinking my life While my Surfaces are barely reaching Their stable mind Soulful fright Sparkles that dazzle, yes, but have no meaning For myself Go within In my mind’s shredded images That you call vision But that are for my fractured Self Incoherent and blurred I feel only Smiles of Sickness Bare teeth of inconceivable stench Exposing inner frailty That just turns out To be my own Pulsating fear I guess I try Trying to be What I know And what I know not Trying to think I think I am A fright To you And myself Swaying sceneries Make me dizzy Yes! The same sceneries You people That you people Call your Daily life Some shine, and some not really And if you are interested to understand For my mind And its Self The results are fear And meaningless All over again For me My Tears provoke You But, why? You say, I’m paranoid? You fools! Who exactly are the persons Do you think That is, if you think Look at my finger and where and at whom it is pointing Again, I scream to you sane citizens What are their identies Of those and of them that are today and now Holding all the thickest drenched sickening ropes Meant for our fractured Necks and Brains Again and again? When do you think You may cease This paralysing pressure? That you apply Upon me Stabbing me? Piercing? Slicing? Hurting? Me All Within My turmoil ***** is spinning In my mind Leave them – Yes, them! They are the Christs that are weeping Hysterically Moving me Beyond sanity While, where are you all? And your polite rules are Moving me Way way far too much For my stability Polite subhumans Flying Make me Flying Make me Flying from you all From you all Let me make me - fly far from you all! Harrowing Humans Listen calmly To my mind Listen To your own Screams shrieks and all the rest Before you think to presume to judge Because you too Some day May suddenly Come to be Plunging in My world!
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Feb 1, 2010
Feb 1, 2010 at 7:34 AM UTC
Listen To me - The Madman!
LISTEN TO ME! – THE MADMAN! Oct 15 2009 – Damascus, Syria Ayad Gharbawi Feeling feelings That come from nowhere Sinking my life While my Surfaces are barely reaching Their stable mind Soulful fright Sparkles that dazzle, yes, but have no meaning For myself Go within In my mind’s shredded images That you call vision But that are for my fractured Self Incoherent and blurred I feel only Smiles of Sickness Bare teeth of inconceivable stench Exposing inner frailty That just turns out To be my own Pulsating fear I guess I try Trying to be What I know And what I know not Trying to think I think I am A fright To you And myself Swaying sceneries Make me dizzy Yes! The same sceneries You people That you people Call your Daily life Some shine, and some not really And if you are interested to understand For my mind And its Self The results are fear And meaningless All over again For me My Tears provoke You But, why? You say, I’m paranoid? You fools! Who exactly are the persons Do you think That is, if you think Look at my finger and where and at whom it is pointing Again, I scream to you sane citizens What are their identies Of those and of them that are today and now Holding all the thickest drenched sickening ropes Meant for our fractured Necks and Brains Again and again? When do you think You may cease This paralysing pressure? That you apply Upon me Stabbing me? Piercing? Slicing? Hurting? Me All Within My turmoil ***** is spinning In my mind Leave them – Yes, them! They are the Christs that are weeping Hysterically Moving me Beyond sanity While, where are you all? And your polite rules are Moving me Way way far too much For my stability Polite subhumans Flying Make me Flying Make me Flying from you all From you all Let me make me - fly far from you all! Harrowing Humans Listen calmly To my mind Listen To your own Screams shrieks and all the rest Before you think to presume to judge Because you too Some day May suddenly Come to be Plunging in My world!
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mornings of my junior year were nightmares, because when i woke up all i wanted to do was die. school sounded far away, a made-up paradise where good grades and white teeth would take you to the toptoptop. my love had left, my friends did not understand. (oh, you’re depressed? everyone’s depressed) pop another pretty white halo, stay up until you think you see the sun scorching your already fried brain. mother cried, father yelled (why can’t you just snap out of it? look at us for christs sake) trips to unknown people, with thick reading glasses and rooms that smelled like incense and money.   i am here. but i am there. i am nowhere. i was submerged under murky water, greeted by sirens and drowning fish. my blood doesn’t look like mine. i want my blood to run like syrup. i was here, but i am not there. drown me through the lines, until it all sounds the same.
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Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 3:32 PM UTC
blood tastes like syrup
While sin enslaves, Jesus Christ saves, Why carry around the burdain, When Christ is willing to carry it for you,for your own gain? Look,we all fall short of His glory, We cease to become holy, But His redemption is always available, Getting over sins guilt is hard,but its do-able, Wipe clean your conscience with Christs love, Not that you'll be as innocent as a dove, But that your soul will be at peace. God is a great and forgiving God,He's the reason for this piece. Jesus Christ saves.
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May 31, 2016
May 31, 2016 at 7:07 PM UTC
Forgiven,renewed.
Tis the Season I most believed in The day I held onto But this year I found the meaning Of what I never knew Yes,it ripped from under my feet The reason I once had To believe in only Christmas How could it be so bad? Like the Tree I dearly decorated Like the magic of the Day But inside I longed for meaning And found the Truth as someone said That they don't believe to celebrate The day I thought was laid But proved the Bible right No where it solmen state The real birth of Jesus Yes the very excact date Tis not only the joyous tiding That the Angels brought that night But the daily life of Christ His birth-His Life he gave Every day I found should be The celebration to His Divinity Not only did it end On the day He came to Earth But the tale of how my saviour Lived That's the days that deserve To be written in the heart To be treasured most-more than gold Of Jesus way of Living Yes the Tale from very old And so I believe in Christs birth But Christmas day alone aint worth Its about much more than presents Or the TRee Or the date Its about realising in Faith, Brought my Saviour to Earth: Yes Gods Hand alone Gave Jesus us His Birth, And His Every day Life spent Till His triumphant Return ***
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Dec 23, 2013
Dec 23, 2013 at 8:03 AM UTC
sequel to "Not a Christmas Poem"
Tiny Christs dying for your sins and perversions Look them in the eyes
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Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 2:45 PM UTC
Tiny Christs
By Hell or high water I will have my say he screamed as he parted the red faced array this court is a farce and these lies not worth hearing as he upturned the tables to riotous cheering take note I implore you of nothing here said and strike from your minds that the victim is dead too true that they beat him and his body broke but the story their telling is nought but a joke they read him no rights no lawyer was sought and his confession forget it it was paid for and bought The witness their calling as since run away and all of their evidence is merely hear say so nothing and no one to here prove thier case just look with your own eyes at this utter disgrace they've stripped him and whipped him and all without cause so just for one moment please won't you just pause Think very clearly twelve wise men and true just think that tomorrow this man could be you so do not convict him for that's what they seek show some compassion as he did the meek if you must condemn him remember just this he was only a scape goat sold out with a kiss guilty I knew it you folk are all mad you've taken away the one chance this man had so take him and **** him for I wash my hands in the blood of the innocent Lord of this land
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Oct 4, 2012
Oct 4, 2012 at 6:27 AM UTC
For Christs Sake Think Again