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Alyssa Underwood Jul 2017
Rest in this, my bruised and weary soul:
I was a wretch, chosen to be a beauty;
a slave, chosen to be a bride;
an orphan, chosen to be an heir;
an enemy, chosen to be a friend.
I deserved nothing but wrath and death
yet received everything of life and grace.
I am loved beyond any dreaming of it
and blessed above all worldly wealth.
I have the incomparable birthright of those
whose Father is God and whose Lord is Jesus Christ—
righteousness from Him and peace with Him.
I am a cherished gift from the Father to the Son.
I was paid for by the Son’s own blood
and am "engraved on the palms of His hands."
I am the living temple of God’s Holy Spirit
Who empowers me to do His pleasure and bring Him glory.
I am the LORD's, chosen and set apart for His delight.

What more could I ask?
But that's only the beginning...


I will live as blessed as I believe myself to already be,
for "I have been blessed in the heavenly realms
with every spiritual blessing in Christ,"
"given everything I need for life and godliness"
through knowing Him and His precious promises,
"an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—
kept [securely and eternally] in heaven" for me.
I've been "raised up and seated with Christ";
my "life is hidden with Him" in the Father,
and "He will fill me with joy in His presence,
with eternal pleasures at His right hand."

Oh, that "the eyes of my heart would be enlightened
with the spirit of wisdom and revelation"
to see what’s already been prepared and given to me
and to know much more fully the One Who has
so meticulously prepared and lavishly given it.
As I walk intimately with Him and rest confidently in Him
(based only on His merits, never my own),
I am given free access to my account
in His heavenly storehouse and enabled to appropriate
its glorious riches to every circumstance of my life,
even the most searingly painful and confoundingly difficult ones.

I have a spiritual Fort Knox available to me
through knowing Christ Jesus my Lord,
but He Himself is my greatest treasure.
Without Him, nothing else matters.
Nothing else has meaning if I am not found in Him,
clinging to Him and carried by Him.
When I finally become desperate for Him alone,
I begin to understand the profound reality
of all He desires for me and offers to me
in my spiritual inheritance in Him.

There are infinite presents to be unwrapped
in His presence which cannot be told
in human words or comprehended by mortal minds,
but they wait to be taken hold of by
any and all who would take hold of Him.

For He gives and gives and gives and gives,
and even when He takes, He gives.
#
~~~

Inspired by the Holy Bible
(quotes from NIV)

Ephesians 1:3-19; Romans 5:1-11; 2 Peter 1:3-4; 1 Peter 1:3-4;
Ephesians 2:3-6; Colossians 3:3; Psalm 16:11; Isaiah 49:16

***
Selena Jance Jan 2015
Sadness comes with me to you, and I speak the
words in my mind as I cannot say
them to you. Even as my blue grey crosses with

your brown, the emptiness fills my subconscious, as
your unawareness of not knowing penetrates; the drowning of
show and tell suffocates, inside me. Unable I am to satiate

my colours for the map, I drew for you lays unread, in the
dark on your desk. Inside my eyes, unshed tears are
burning, for their way to come out, as it aches and takes

the fabric of skin with them to reveal a shallowed
passion. I wonder, if I should make an end to it, and once
and for all be done with this…

But the look in your eyes, however empty of
apperception pervade into intuitive truth, though deep words
are few. I had not realized, been focusing on

the wrong things all along. So I bid, expand your
vocabulary on me, I will show you the wealth of the vast
universes they can reveal. Into your world they will bleed, as I will

read your little star sign book; and with the way in
which you devour written words, open up your mind and take
mine into it. Give me a reason to look into your

unsuspecting eyes, with a sincerity that is blind.


© 2005
Derek David Apr 2018
A world of information
And I force ignorance
A wealth of answers
I skip class

This crowd of fans
I regret joining
This pile of dishes
I entertain starving
Endless color
Only one eye sees
We're certain to suffer
Ground coffee and teeth.

Current events
I should learn music
Mission critical
I can stay decent
The world stage
I hate theater
Grocery store small talk
Ask me something real.

A question of ethics
Always too easy
But every turn of a page
Still moves me 3 spaces
Leave me alone
I just need connection
But the clearest of thoughts
By ignoring my driver.

Moral panic
It happened so fast
Give to charity
All figured out.

Keep your head down
Chin lit by my phone
Mr. Good Employee
Call in late if it suits
Works well under pressure
And nowhere else
Appreciation, respect
More things to neglect.

A global economy
That troubling phrase
Where capitalism ends
Idealism fails
Save your pennies
The way out is in
Play your position
I'll quit the game
The simple life
Got confoundingly deep.
born two days
after ole Punxsutawney i.e. the Doctor Phil -
of woodchucks Latin Name = Marmota Monax
nest resembled Rastafarian hair weave,
which creature rattled with ire and peeveishness,

when rudely roused from his abode February fourth
two thousand nine hundred and ninety nine
just two days after said groundhog got prodded to predict,
what surprises old man winter would deliver
from his snowy white sleeve
then juiced when he tried tug *** cozy once again,
an ear piercing cry rent quiet  
his pseudo Redmond Proficiency Academy den.

Wails via this tearful papa surpassed
decibel deemed tolerated,
hence entire webbed threshold did reverb
and rebound and he could not
muffle ears to block out sound,
nor would said creature trust
his beady eyes, how metamorphosis
doth confoundingly, blindingly, and astoundingly
transformed alien (perfect E.T. Stand in) appearing
gangly infant into a stunning - materiel
sans as fashionably attired
home coming queen crowned soon
to be freshly minted high school senior,
and perhaps college bound.

Seventeen plus years ago (soon be nineteen years -
she skipped to my lou eighteen), elapsed in a flash,
as a newborn mandated to exit
womb er full world uterine she
did plash ordained by Mother Nature
decreed must wriggle and leave placental stash
without (of course) leaving a mass of trash.
Thus, exit from birth canal complemented
second and last daughter to the Harris mix
whereby, she communicated
via clucks just for kicks
starting to gabble sounds vocalizing -
sounds of cow bell licks
influenced by Donald Duck
and Leif Erics son, also enlisting
literary feedback from Barack Obama,
and his lovely brood of Dixie chic chicks
attired in his wall den uniform bespeaking
his pointed skill teaching pre-presidential days
within ivied bricks primal utterances she acquired
(courtesy of Alice Cooper)
Retained like toys in attics.

Like any buck minister fully taken aback
this mister mom did fuss and fawn
from one jimmy crack corn to the next rhyme,
which captive infant audience gave no flack,
precious heir from ***** papa did help spawn -

an everyday ******* Jack of all trades
whereat n'er tiring as child rearing
more challenging than untying Gordian knot
without lack king and how, The Idler Wheel
Is Wiser than the Driver of the *****

and Whipping Cords Will Serve You
More than Ropes Will Ever Do to pack
a Judy ish us punch, though thee Punim
born with adroit skill to quack
mimicking gripped banshees,
denizens frenziedly shrieking
out the box of Pandora - as if one felt a whack
and a wallop, nonetheless infant younger daughter

a boon against strife
wool worth effort and propensity
to revel qua biological miracle re: said offspring
did inadvertently teach me lessons of life

to cherish and savor each giggle, laughter and smile
amidst cramped apartment plus feeling
discombobulated frustration bubbling rife
introducing yours truly
to tha hen pecked moody blue wife.

pockmarks can vouchsafe this un beak able trait
from spouse, who need not be lambasted
on account of increased weight.

Like a human bobbing sponge youngest progeny
absorbed auditory/ visual multitude
within each axon and neuron of that infantile sensory
“sir” kit board aware at a tender young age
how she struggled to string words together
to convey a mood
predilection with language impediment
possibly passed thru umbilical rip cord.
No idea thru combination of genetics and biology
that burnished beautiful lass oof an offspring
wrought a smart girl, an apple of the eye
per this father who never thought
thru attempts at conception sought

supremely melded genes, he thought
loves labors last, t’would come
to naught delivered us an artistic,
intrinsic, linguistic lass
who for no price can be bought
though someday, a young lad will take a fancy

(as ought to be the path of biology)
and hoop fully brings ye happiness
for your remaining lifetime
with a numeral
(following a number from one to nine)
with many an aught!

TOO LOVE YOU MY DEAR SHANA -
MORE THAN THIS SHABBY POEM
CAN CONVEY, WHICH...
UPON ATTEMPTING TO UNDERSTAND -
ABOVE GIBBERISH JA PROBABLY
WILL PROBABLY RAISE ARMS UP
IN DESPAIR UTTERING OYE VAY!
Travis Green Jul 2021
After an hour of taking
Shots of blazing Bacardi
I was feeling amply naughty
Drunken thoughts pervading my mind
Cigarette smoked lips
Speaking filthy slang
I couldn’t be tamed
I filled with pyretic passion
Wanting more than casual action tonight
I was ready to make my move
And ****** the one man
I had been crushing on for a long time

I called him to come over to my crib
Take a seat, chill, and feel the beat
Of my stimulating diction seep
Into your existence
He looked at me confoundingly
He said, “I’m not interested in you.”
I told him that was only his fear
Speaking to him, trying to suppress
What we knew was inevitably occurring
He attempted to leave
But I wouldn’t let him go

I said, “You don’t want to do that.”
I told him to relax and let me take control
Watch me take the straightness out of you
Invite you to a new place called gay treasure land
He stared at me with astounding eyes
As I gently pulled off his clothes
He tried to resist, but I applied pressure
He wasn’t about to get away from me now
I kissed him in all the spots I knew
Would make him infinitely hot

I stroked his strong, masculine chest
His armored arms, his broad and magnificent shoulders
His sleek, **** thighs and legs
I answered his many commands
That he was too afraid to reveal to me
I felt his steady, sizzling breaths over me
How when he asked me to pour him
With a shot of hot Bacardi, I instantly fixed him a glass
And watched him consume it all

He was in the mood
I could feel his energy increasing
So many sensual sensations
Releasing all at once
We escaped into a night
Filled with an overload
Of spontaneous satisfaction
Super sweet climaxes raveled in heat
How he embraced me willingly
Savagely caressed me, kissed me
Incapable of keeping his hands off me

He showed me everything
I had been missing from him
Making me feel so rejuvenated
As he made incredible love to me
Giving me his heart, his body, his soul
Telling me, he knew I had been
Crushing on him for a while
Telling me that he was all mine now
I didn’t have to crush on him anymore
I had everything in him, his love

— The End —