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"commandment" poems
the miniscule, crystallized phenomena floating down on their zephyr gondola to the little children's enchantment. the wintriness nipping at their stamina produced petite gloved hands pulling tightly at their jacket. to rollick the day away was their only commandment. fast forward a few years, and they'll be learning algebra, their minds drifting away during lectures on parabolas to the forgotten days of freedom; they lament the loss of their fragile frostwork taffeta.
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Nov 19, 2014
Nov 19, 2014 at 11:04 PM UTC
snowflake
Nature has divine qualities Beyond national divides So heart enfold immortal love Where one sees mountain dance and move In this do love has no color Skin pigment shouldn't be honor For all bears reddish clot As we tread on earth path So soil of time embraces our body As the enlived soul transpired to the sky All become one in a starky heaven Where no divide and rule leaven Only unending peace it brings Shrinking hearts with joy and unending smiles As they commune in glows of divine instinct For the greatest commandment is love As bird fly above So cloud of hate gives love as chance Embracing one with will of divine So our earth become an undying paradise written by Martin Ijir
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May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 11:23 PM UTC
Love Has No Color
On my way to work, Whenever I pass through The Holy Trinity church, After a brief prayer, The tombstone of a martyr My eyes never fail to search As his eulogies sensitive cords Are sure to touch! I admire The tombstone’s design A flickering torch, Whose tongue Is the  martyr ’s statue, That talks loud his virtue! “Holy Trinity Till I crossed the river of death Allegedly, striped of my health, Poisoned by evil doers, Who hanker By unfair means To amass wealth, I had been A public servant Adherent to my faith! ” “Holy Trinity To abide by Your commandment- Don’t steal- Was my desire Also to pull out   millions From poverty’s quagmire. Across the board development Working better than one's best Efficient resource utilization Also drew my attention! " “Holy Trinity A generation To corruption averse Is all-out The bad scenario In my country To reverse.   A generation  for A developmental ****** That has lust. I have come to understand The coming up of Many a lass and lad, Whose rights that  demand I need no more reward, When in front of you This way I stand Justice to demand! ” Children of Oromia, Ethiopia’s elephantine branch, You have to detach Your state, your country From the impudent And the corrupt That still exercise The outmoded Colonizers’ Divide and rule As a fool . A corruption fighter Development’s workforce Is also a hero Like Ethiopia’s Valorous and dear sons Balcha Abanefso Geresu Duke,Abdisa Aga And Jagama Kelo. Children of Oromia Giving to divisive guys A deaf ear, You should hold your Country Ethiopia, A cradle of mankind And civilization, dear Do not forget Adding up Is the current road map Evil doers Killing a hero Could not bring The change drive To zero. As a poet what I can say “Evil doers Stop to opt for Devilish way! But if you Keeping going astray You will go To the grave in Ignominious way!”//
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 7:09 AM UTC
A martyr’s eulogy
On my way to work, Whenever I pass through The Holy Trinity church, After a brief prayer, The tombstone of a martyr My eyes never fail to search As his eulogies sensitive cords Are sure to touch! I admire The tombstone’s design A flickering torch, Whose tongue Is the  martyr ’s statue, That talks loud his virtue! “Holy Trinity Till I crossed the river of death Allegedly, striped of my health, Poisoned by evil doers, Who hanker By unfair means To amass wealth, I had been A public servant Adherent to my faith! ” “Holy Trinity To abide by Your commandment- Don’t steal- Was my desire Also to pull out   millions From poverty’s quagmire. Across the board development Working better than one's best Efficient resource utilization Also drew my attention! " “Holy Trinity A generation To corruption averse Is all-out The bad scenario In my country To reverse.   A generation  for A developmental ****** That has lust. I have come to understand The coming up of Many a lass and lad, Whose rights that  demand I need no more reward, When in front of you This way I stand Justice to demand! ” Children of Oromia, Ethiopia’s elephantine branch, You have to detach Your state, your country From the impudent And the corrupt That still exercise The outmoded Colonizers’ Divide and rule As a fool . A corruption fighter Development’s workforce Is also a hero Like Ethiopia’s Valorous and dear sons Balcha Abanefso Geresu Duke,Abdisa Aga And Jagama Kelo. Children of Oromia Giving to divisive guys A deaf ear, You should hold your Country Ethiopia, A cradle of mankind And civilization, dear Do not forget Adding up Is the current road map Evil doers Killing a hero Could not bring The change drive To zero. As a poet what I can say “Evil doers Stop to opt for Devilish way! But if you Keeping going astray You will go To the grave in Ignominious way!”//
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96
C is confused, so a little complex I mean, one moment it’s top of the range glowing in the hierarchy of vitamins but next it’s a little abashed and low in a student’s report card – you know, C is not as good as an A And so can you blame C for its mood swings? Its agony continues: one instant C is Calm, in another it’s a Curse And you know it also feels a little wanting a little under-stretched, not fulfilled like not being able to complete all the stretching exercises its fitness trainer metes out “O, if only I could be a little more yogic,” C intones “I’d be as composed as an O” - but O no, that’s not to be And don’t you start on the indignant possibilities of the letter C, for C has always aspired you see to be genteel, cultured and debonair and curls with disgust if the uncouth should use the letter   to refer to any body parts, be it that of male or of female So, dear mortals, C should be left in celestial spheres And so, in conclusion, one Commandment I give unto you: *Never drag C to ****** shallows*
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Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 10:44 PM UTC
C complex
i know only how to wear this body like an apology. like i'm sorry i take up too much space. like i'm sorry, i don't feel small enough to fit into your hands. i wear it like a sin. like a prayer that never feels answered. like confessions i keep trying to change. i wear it like a broken commandment, because i love thy neighbour, but i hate myself.
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Jul 30, 2016
Jul 30, 2016 at 4:54 PM UTC
(sinner apologies)
God was tired that day After all Six days shalt thou labour And on the seventh Shalt thou rest And he'd be slaving away For eighteen days nonstop Mainly because of the offer of Double overtime Had proven irresistible. He'd written out these great rules On how to live, All eleven of them. And God yelled out: *"Oy Moses, you fat bearded *** I got some tablets of stone for you So move your ******* kosher **** And Moses came out of the pub And picked up the first ten But, being a bit the worse for wear, And nine sheets to the wind With cut-price passover wine, He never noticed the eleventh one: *"Never accept a personal cheque Without a bank guarantee card"* Is what it said, And you can't argue with that No ******* way.
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May 2, 2015
May 2, 2015 at 8:17 AM UTC
The Eleventh Commandment
Write everyday, too much That's a commandment for a to do list in hopes it will manifest into routine I can store the text in the internet It's safer that way, these days Store it in a place that actually doesn't exist How can it be lost? There's too many spies making logs and in the rare artful moment of an agent maybe I'll get discovered Not banking on it I'm throwing all my eggs at random houses and wearing the wicker basket as a helmet to protect from backlash in hopes that, by then, my poet spirit could leap from treetop to treetop to avoid hollow bullets
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Aug 24, 2014
Aug 24, 2014 at 8:33 AM UTC
Too Wordy Shinobi
the Hail Mary transgression: falling in love with me when it crosses over the line *guilty of the same, so even when I condemn the errant woman, with an ice block from a Northeastern pond of no soft forgiveness, which is still and yet, the only cutoff ending appropriate but you woman, deserve to learn that emboldened fantasy that crosses broken bold lines, is a jagged rot that doesn’t cure the dreamy unreality of the-cannot-be, it’s pouring hot water on scalding burns entrenched guess time to share that your fantasy is the number one commandment that this boy also violates routinely so he has a phd of experience, and the burn proofs when he thot he too could be, Cervantes, the knight errant, lover of the impossible woman I, guilty as charged by “The Duke,” am an idealist and bad poet, so many poet-women here I secret cherish at levels that are nonsensical, absurd, ludicrous and hold the fantastical fantasty of them dear, so close and so near, so mine wrote them each love poems, and they know it, now, here, in my confessional booth, my priestly punishment always the same, ten thousand Hail Mary’s, but I cheat the cohen priest, and just write another poem,* this one is about the line that never can  could  will be crossed, hail mary!
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Feb 11, 2019
Feb 11, 2019 at 11:48 AM UTC
Hail Mary transgression: falling in love when it crosses over the line
*Oh.. on this festivities My illumination of LOVE My Noor - my Belovedz Become my LOVER & BELOVEDz* Among millions of stars in the sky The one star that I saw By the grace of your glow In the darkest nights YOU sparkle your colors Soaring wings in flight Within unknown celestial cosmos Touching my dark oceanic shores Oh my Noor - my BELOVEDz This is the purest blessing I beg from YOU Just let one sparkle of your LOVE Fall in my lap - inside my womb Let me give birth to YOU Create a replica of YOU within me This is the prophecy of Nature The truest word of Mother nature Every God/dess proclaims in scriptures A golden commandment of AGAPE LOVE For the future of the world To survive and sustain on LOVE That is the reason I've been chosen for For your light to pierce in my SOUL My Noor - my BELOVEDz My existence is touched by your LOVE I seek inner LOVE with your illuminations YOU are the first passion of my LOVE YOU remain the last obsession of my LIFE Humans life-time is too minuscule Compared to LOVE's immortality YOU illuminate YOU are present in every breath Of my birth to death - darkness to light YOU remain my North-Star, I remain YOUR LOVE's navigator YOUR SOUL is my destination, I remain your LOVER - a LOVE seeker My Noor - My BELOVEDz Just show little charity By dropping your LOVE energy Inside my womb of creation Please forgive... My obsession of YOU My passionate LOVE for YOU My intimate talks on LOVE My showing YOU - my joyful tears I am mere human - seeking your LOVE I may not be PERFECT - My Noor - My BELOVEDz Light my imperfections with your illuminations Just give me a space in your inner being Let me touch that Source of LOVE's light within YOU I just ask one thing from your sparkle Annihilate me, dissolve me, absorb me Within your darkness forever Where I can unite with your LOVE The ultimate LOVE source - Illumination *Oh.. on this festivities My illumination of LOVE My Noor - my Belovedz Become my LOVER & BELOVEDz*
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Jun 18, 2018
Jun 18, 2018 at 1:09 AM UTC
My Noor - My BELOVEDz
*Oh.. on this festivities My illumination of LOVE My Noor - my Belovedz Become my LOVER & BELOVEDz* Among millions of stars in the sky The one star that I saw By the grace of your glow In the darkest nights YOU sparkle your colors Soaring wings in flight Within unknown celestial cosmos Touching my dark oceanic shores Oh my Noor - my BELOVEDz This is the purest blessing I beg from YOU Just let one sparkle of your LOVE Fall in my lap - inside my womb Let me give birth to YOU Create a replica of YOU within me This is the prophecy of Nature The truest word of Mother nature Every God/dess proclaims in scriptures A golden commandment of AGAPE LOVE For the future of the world To survive and sustain on LOVE That is the reason I've been chosen for For your light to pierce in my SOUL My Noor - my BELOVEDz My existence is touched by your LOVE I seek inner LOVE with your illuminations YOU are the first passion of my LOVE YOU remain the last obsession of my LIFE Humans life-time is too minuscule Compared to LOVE's immortality YOU illuminate YOU are present in every breath Of my birth to death - darkness to light YOU remain my North-Star, I remain YOUR LOVE's navigator YOUR SOUL is my destination, I remain your LOVER - a LOVE seeker My Noor - My BELOVEDz Just show little charity By dropping your LOVE energy Inside my womb of creation Please forgive... My obsession of YOU My passionate LOVE for YOU My intimate talks on LOVE My showing YOU - my joyful tears I am mere human - seeking your LOVE I may not be PERFECT - My Noor - My BELOVEDz Light my imperfections with your illuminations Just give me a space in your inner being Let me touch that Source of LOVE's light within YOU I just ask one thing from your sparkle Annihilate me, dissolve me, absorb me Within your darkness forever Where I can unite with your LOVE The ultimate LOVE source - Illumination *Oh.. on this festivities My illumination of LOVE My Noor - my Belovedz Become my LOVER & BELOVEDz*
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65
Once we're on the slippery slope, With assisted suicide, That's when the sick people, Have nowhere left to hide, Now that the clock is ticking, Where will it all stop, Next is the old folk, We'll chop them till they drop, Down Syndrome men and women, Elderly, infirm who can tell, Doctors must authorise, Shipman did that well, Then there's the druggies, We'll have to use a rope, Injection would be stupid, Like giving them more dope, They'll not be the last, The unemployed are next, They'll not be sent a letter, We'll do it all by text, Get them all lined up, We'll do them one by one, Give them the death injection, Nowhere left for them to run, The fat ones need to go, Costing too much cash, Eating too much food, Use a knife to slash, If your neighbour's a bit different, You know, a bit like that, Take out your weapon, And stab him in the heart, Clear the jails out, The place if your a crook, If we need more killers, It's the very place to look, Dignitas will be redundant, We'll **** them all in house, It'll be good business, Shooting them just like grouse, Forget about the smokers, Assisted suicide's not their game, With their lungs and breath failing, They're dying just the same, Life is so **** precious, Killing's against God's law, Commandment number six, One of ten we shouldn't withdraw.
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Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 1:53 PM UTC
Assisted suicide
The power lines provide Elucidation in disguise A sanctuary shadow-stained Estate commandment private enterprise Desensitizing blinded lies The buy, buy, buy Consumes the lives As malnutrition feasts its eyes Monopolized, the profits rise The pockets lined with earth’s demise Until the rockets own the skies Devising how to energize The Helios within our minds As we just sit and stare with pride Ascending our expenses climb Mankind amidst the stars will shine Except for who gets left behind To overpopulate in time
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Aug 7, 2018
Aug 7, 2018 at 4:21 AM UTC
Escape Plan
By: Cedric McClester You know he’s full of stuff When the evidence ain’t enough And he’s acting like a cream puff By not calling Putin’s bluff If I labeled him a scaredy-cat Or better yet Putin’s new doormat Would that raise the thermostat, And flush out that Norway rat? When the evidence is irrefutable To the point that it’s not disputable His response is always mutable And comes out as most unsuitable Then his mouthpiece attempts to frame An alibi, but we’re hip to her game She can’t absolve him of the blame Though she tries to just the same So you better believe and trust That she looks ridiculous When she’s being duplicitous By trying to fool the rest of us It’s a sin to stand there and lie But she gives it a college try Like the mistress of deny As if the Ten Commandment don’t apply They interfered with our election With a clear cut interjection Of cybernet deflection Without protest or objection Two days before his inauguration He was told of the Russian’s participation Much to his own consternation Yet he still voices reservations Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018.  All rights reserved.
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Jul 19, 2018
Jul 19, 2018 at 1:15 PM UTC
YOU KNOW HE’S FULL OF STUFF
my greatest fear is mother and father reading my journals see through lines deliberately unreadable because i write the unthinkable      'i might not marry someday' and the perverse      *'i wonder what's it like to **** this girl'* and the abominable      *Amber is a woman trapped in the wrong body           and                         she                                  is                                      suffocating.* i choke on the silence because it is woman's role in Saturday sermons because i cannot borrow my brother's slippers      i am not needed outdoors because when i spoke for the trans waiter with the pained smile      they blamed my sociology      and not my compassion mother and father, bless your souls i'd rather not have you read this and believe in the 'i love you's                                because love is the greatest commandment                                                *but we spit on the ****
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Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 12:57 PM UTC
Love is the greatest commandment.
fallow lay in a field, neath soil well over-tilled, the bones of explanations, excuses, and desperation, a singular self-destructive but upward thrusted commandment, compose a poem of revelation, a poem of destiny and unknown destination of thee, I write, ashen standing, with the poker face of a lying son, before the father confessor mirror, stand with palms facing outward, with perfect calm and utter fright for every nominated error listed below, when confronted, hopeless the innocence, easier now to admit, with perfect clarity, your innermost confabulatory familiar friends, rise to the fire, first and foremost belabor not with supposed ratiocinations, put aside, your ration of conjured up-for-all, and-all-for-naught excuses, the prosecutors charges, so thoroughly distinguished, it disables, speech, vision, all reason extinguished as the lips and fingers silent move, the hopeless knowledge of a pardon of 99.9%, untenable, ransacks, for what passerby criminal thought has not resided in your head, the hearth of who you are? you, write of nature, love, celestial notions, the Etcetera's of life, but to me, leave the exposure of our uncompressed, here revealed sinning, for among those who unashamedly acknowledge the intertwining nature of human failings, and for the balance, uncap our divine imagery you write at of those other nuanced pleasures, nature, love, celestial notions, while the sinners wrestle with the angelic demons of confrontation and revelation for your own sake and saving, do not wrestle with me for sinners love, welcome company
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Feb 17, 2017
Feb 17, 2017 at 6:54 PM UTC
For the Sin
fallow lay in a field, neath soil well over-tilled, the bones of explanations, excuses, and desperation, a singular self-destructive but upward thrusted commandment, compose a poem of revelation, a poem of destiny and unknown destination of thee, I write, ashen standing, with the poker face of a lying son, before the father confessor mirror, stand with palms facing outward, with perfect calm and utter fright for every nominated error listed below, when confronted, hopeless the innocence, easier now to admit, with perfect clarity, your innermost confabulatory familiar friends, rise to the fire, first and foremost belabor not with supposed ratiocinations, put aside, your ration of conjured up-for-all, and-all-for-naught excuses, the prosecutors charges, so thoroughly distinguished, it disables, speech, vision, all reason extinguished as the lips and fingers silent move, the hopeless knowledge of a pardon of 99.9%, untenable, ransacks, for what passerby criminal thought has not resided in your head, the hearth of who you are? you, write of nature, love, celestial notions, the Etcetera's of life, but to me, leave the exposure of our uncompressed, here revealed sinning, for among those who unashamedly acknowledge the intertwining nature of human failings, and for the balance, uncap our divine imagery you write at of those other nuanced pleasures, nature, love, celestial notions, while the sinners wrestle with the angelic demons of confrontation and revelation for your own sake and saving, do not wrestle with me for sinners love, welcome company
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49
Superhero heavyweights Alter ego misfits Scandalous fall from grace Public pain and private parties Golden idol ego trips Wrath of God Not wrath of Kahn Read a book Take a look around Stop flying high Indestructible Too messed up to see The damage done Idolaters be dammed First commandment Godless society Superhero wannabes Glory and the fame Microscopes Expand the putrid that make-up cannot mask Everybody’s business Do as you say not as you do Becomes, monkey see monkey do Flying high without a net Newbies falling from the sky That is not empowerment Luck is not strategy And life is not a game Find importance Both within and without Then dawn your cape And fly away To help your fellow man Not just your selfish greed
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May 26, 2010
May 26, 2010 at 5:31 AM UTC
Society?
everyday i am among people talking, sharing, helping,laughing, chatting i wonder how many have ever seen behind my perfect mask an seen seen the scared woman who never looks in a mirror from believe how ugly she is not wanting a constant reminder of how imperfect god made me not wanting to relive the disappointment that i don't look like the "beautiful" women people will often tell me i have a good heart no one notices the scares on my shoulder from a heavy load deep lashes on each shoulder running down my back fresh and old wounds mixed together i am tired of the same struggle now i understand why honor for father and mother is obligated god knew why it should be a commandment the soul is resilliant bur respect, trust and love is not takes long to create, easy to brake
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Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 12:28 PM UTC
behind the mask
Thou shall not plagiarize other people's work The first commandment for a poet It's a shame that some people do it While others simply don't know it A poem doesn't always have to rhyme The second commandment we must obey But some people choose not to listen Regardless of what others might say A poem can be about anything you want The third commandment sends some people reeling They think it can't be a poem at all Unless it's something to do with our feelings Thou shall not criticize others unjustly The fourth commandment we must adhere They don't need their creation destroyed It's constructive critisim they want to here A poem can be any length you choose The fifth commandment we all must follow For if they were all made the same It would surely be hollow The vocabulary is strictly up to the poet The sixth commandment is the poet's choice He alone can decide the words to use That will best give him his voice Inspiration can come from anywhere we like The seventh commandment we all hold true Everyone has their writer's block moments So whatever helps us get through The poet can write any form they want The eighth commandment is a must The poet knows the style they like best And their choices we're obliged to trust Poetry is all a matter of taste The ninth commandment is just like the rest The reader must choose what's dear to his heart And the poems that he likes the best Never alienate your readers The tenth commandment speaks for itself Cause if you act like you're better than them Your books will stay on the shelf
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Apr 17, 2010
Apr 17, 2010 at 6:42 PM UTC
The Poet's Ten Commandments
Thou shall not plagiarize other people's work The first commandment for a poet It's a shame that some people do it While others simply don't know it A poem doesn't always have to rhyme The second commandment we must obey But some people choose not to listen Regardless of what others might say A poem can be about anything you want The third commandment sends some people reeling They think it can't be a poem at all Unless it's something to do with our feelings Thou shall not criticize others unjustly The fourth commandment we must adhere They don't need their creation destroyed It's constructive critisim they want to here A poem can be any length you choose The fifth commandment we all must follow For if they were all made the same It would surely be hollow The vocabulary is strictly up to the poet The sixth commandment is the poet's choice He alone can decide the words to use That will best give him his voice Inspiration can come from anywhere we like The seventh commandment we all hold true Everyone has their writer's block moments So whatever helps us get through The poet can write any form they want The eighth commandment is a must The poet knows the style they like best And their choices we're obliged to trust Poetry is all a matter of taste The ninth commandment is just like the rest The reader must choose what's dear to his heart And the poems that he likes the best Never alienate your readers The tenth commandment speaks for itself Cause if you act like you're better than them Your books will stay on the shelf
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40
can't imagine it ranks high up on any list of any deity, *** and God ****** probably don't make the cut, on a relative basis, but ya never know... looked around, couldn't be found any mention of who he roots for, or if it's ok to ask for intervention **but if you ****** if you behead... claiming with perfect human vanity his name as your own for justification in ignoring Thou Shall Not **** know this you're a commandment breaker, having taken god's name in vain, vain like vanity, the sin unique to only humans we cannot divine the divine, sure wish it was my NY Giants were today bowl-occupied, why he chooses me to suffer someday will surely be explained or not but you murderers, easy rest assured, taking his name in vain, you won't be forgotten, cause and effect spelled out clearly** “the LORD will not hold him guiltless who takes his name in vain”
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Feb 1, 2015
Feb 1, 2015 at 2:51 PM UTC
Does God Care Who Wins the Super Bowl?
do not burn this city. leave the people with secondhand smoke in their skins. burn yourself with all the hopes they cannot have - the hopes you have stolen.
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Aug 15, 2015
Aug 15, 2015 at 10:07 AM UTC
commandment from the skyline
with each passing day, I understand less and less, for who could ever claim to know it all, yet, the simplicity of our base-ic basest instincts makes evil so easily attractive, that now, I forgive almost nothing, anyone for the cruelty inherent in on the surfacial skin of our normalcy, so easily, revealed, and reveled in, wrecks me, and the poetry sparks are not doused, but wick and ember shriveled oh the irony, that foolish me should write of the commandment to love just as the world displays old levels of hate historically deep… .I am hated, to many who would know me only as Jew, and this refresher course in my brain, reminds me, that love thy neighbor as thyself, can morph into a generational opposite, that my former degree of comfort, beliefs, was only skin deep…and Tolstoy was a naïf, a romantic, a royal, who hoped for the best in each man, and that cannot ne achieved for hate is so easy digestible, so sweet a treat for humans, who desire no compass other than simple baseness to know which direction to take…. ————————————————————————————- ”There can be only one permanent revolution—a moral one; the regeneration of the inner man. How is this revolution to take place? Nobody knows how it will take place in humanity, but every man feels it clearly in himself. And yet in our world everybody thinks of changing humanity, and nobody thinks of changing himself." Tolstoy ”To perform evil deeds a person must discover “a justification for his actions,” so that he can regard stealing, humiliating and killing as good. “Macbeth’s self-justifications were feeble,” and so conscience restrained him. He had no ideology, Solzhenitsyn observes, nothing like “anti-imperialism” or “decolonization” to allay pangs of guilt. Solzhenitsyn concludes: “Ideology—that is what gives evil-doing its long-sought justification and gives the evil-doer the necessary steadfastness and determination . . . so that he won’t hear reproaches and curses but receive praise and honors.Solzhenitsyn
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Oct 20, 2023
Oct 20, 2023 at 3:08 PM UTC
Tolstoy uses a French expression, “Tout comprendre, c’est tout pardonner”: To understand all is to forgive all.
with each passing day, I understand less and less, for who could ever claim to know it all, yet, the simplicity of our base-ic basest instincts makes evil so easily attractive, that now, I forgive almost nothing, anyone for the cruelty inherent in on the surfacial skin of our normalcy, so easily, revealed, and reveled in, wrecks me, and the poetry sparks are not doused, but wick and ember shriveled oh the irony, that foolish me should write of the commandment to love just as the world displays old levels of hate historically deep… .I am hated, to many who would know me only as Jew, and this refresher course in my brain, reminds me, that love thy neighbor as thyself, can morph into a generational opposite, that my former degree of comfort, beliefs, was only skin deep…and Tolstoy was a naïf, a romantic, a royal, who hoped for the best in each man, and that cannot ne achieved for hate is so easy digestible, so sweet a treat for humans, who desire no compass other than simple baseness to know which direction to take…. ————————————————————————————- ”There can be only one permanent revolution—a moral one; the regeneration of the inner man. How is this revolution to take place? Nobody knows how it will take place in humanity, but every man feels it clearly in himself. And yet in our world everybody thinks of changing humanity, and nobody thinks of changing himself." Tolstoy ”To perform evil deeds a person must discover “a justification for his actions,” so that he can regard stealing, humiliating and killing as good. “Macbeth’s self-justifications were feeble,” and so conscience restrained him. He had no ideology, Solzhenitsyn observes, nothing like “anti-imperialism” or “decolonization” to allay pangs of guilt. Solzhenitsyn concludes: “Ideology—that is what gives evil-doing its long-sought justification and gives the evil-doer the necessary steadfastness and determination . . . so that he won’t hear reproaches and curses but receive praise and honors.Solzhenitsyn
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24
Holy Lord God! I love Thy truth, Nor dare Thy least commandment slight; Yet pierced by sin the serpent's tooth, I mourn the anguish of the bite. But though the poison lurks within, Hope bids me still with patience wait; Till death shall set me free from sin, Free from the only thing I hate. Had I a throne above the rest, Where angels and archangels dwell, One sin, unslain, within my breast, Would make that heaven as dark as hell. The prisoner sent to breathe fresh air, And blest with liberty again, Would mourn were he condemn'd to wear One link of all his former chain. But, oh! no foe invades the bliss, When glory crowns the Christian's head; One look at Jesus as He is Will strike all sin forever dead.
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1.8k
Hatred of Sin
a confessional screen chambered in opaques                         the pearly gates would sport checkers sovereignty with grime between myself                and the other side of this poem another acolyte had founted              from our species-widened narthex-maw                               the answer to the test                                     the answer i have tested since despite the veto of a roshi's sleeve while adults justify in frowns and threats commandment-etched i am a child still            aghast at drawing lines in sand to mark the living                                            from the soon to die one i knew who drew such lines                                                for whom a line was drawn to mark himself as well not just in votes and homeland hate-speech you see he crossed the line                         no unadulterated childhood can cross he shot  his  own  face                               or at least his face was shot                 when he was found who can read the final lonely moments of another                                                  when mistakes are easier than ownmost acts ? bombing bullies politicking death                  can sanctify the safe unpunctuated traps                      dividing moods in swallows pills swilled with undigested fear                                    of nozzled death mercilessly sudden .
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Oct 6, 2013
Oct 6, 2013 at 2:18 PM UTC
ideologies from warring states at peace
a confessional screen chambered in opaques                         the pearly gates would sport checkers sovereignty with grime between myself                and the other side of this poem another acolyte had founted              from our species-widened narthex-maw                               the answer to the test                                     the answer i have tested since despite the veto of a roshi's sleeve while adults justify in frowns and threats commandment-etched i am a child still            aghast at drawing lines in sand to mark the living                                            from the soon to die one i knew who drew such lines                                                for whom a line was drawn to mark himself as well not just in votes and homeland hate-speech you see he crossed the line                         no unadulterated childhood can cross he shot  his  own  face                               or at least his face was shot                 when he was found who can read the final lonely moments of another                                                  when mistakes are easier than ownmost acts ? bombing bullies politicking death                  can sanctify the safe unpunctuated traps                      dividing moods in swallows pills swilled with undigested fear                                    of nozzled death mercilessly sudden .
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Provide, Never wish to divide The family, They always want to see us live happily, These are great people, Who deserve so much respect, In the bible, Its only the commandment concerning them which contains a promise,so inspect Yourself,are you honoring them as they deserve to be honoured? Having them is a blessing, Love them.
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Oct 12, 2015
Oct 12, 2015 at 1:12 AM UTC
Parents
Elena receives a secret message from God "Keep quiet and listen to Bach, kid"it said She was so cross with God at first,naturally, "The old man is cold, I won't listen to his new commandment" she averred as she wanted to annoy Almighty as much as, a retaliatory measure.She felt good, pleased, she fell silent for a long, long while. Quickly she realized she obeyed His word and by that time her ranting and raving had fully come to an end.                                              "Oh! my God!" in astonishment she thanked God, for making her feel better though she was thoughtless and horribly blasphemous. "What a crafty old geezer God is"she grinned. yes,her defiance was intentional,but it was as God willed,how intelligent His designs are! "Oh! Bach! she remembered his words she ran to fetch a record.Hey presto! it's there right at the top of the heap, as God willed, of course, while 'Christmas Oratorio' of Bach sweeps her off her feet, Elena feels elated, as if the hands of devine, embrace her tight.
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Dec 13, 2015
Dec 13, 2015 at 9:06 AM UTC
Bach's music:An intervention of the devine