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Marisa Lu Makil Jul 2017
Let me hear your lovingkindness in the morning
Let me taste your goodwill in the evening

For I trust in you
I trust you with all that I am
I trust you when I awake
And when I lie down

Teach me the way in which I should walk
I cannot walk alone
Without your help
Without your hands

For to you I lift my soul
I give my heart
I give my soul
I give me life
To you
To the one who has saved me
Time and again

Let me hear your lovingkindness in the morning
For I trust in you
Teach me the way in which I should walk
For to you I lift up my soul
Based on Psalm 143:8
Ryan O'Leary Jan 2023
.                Deliverence


       Freedom wears feathers

   and so long as we cage birds

     our interpretation of liberty

         will always define us.
I used to gather
where the bridge crossed the bay
Pausing in the ebb of
the changing tide .
I tried to capture
the moment of the ebb's decay

She came to me
with soft words of call
Left messages saying
she's not sure about it at all

The sea follows the
ways we know not
our separation was complete
we left our ancient past behind
to tread upon this land
on our own two feet

Shake the dust from your call
dress the shadows
make the sun fall
words of deliverence
wet the tongue's
parchment and thirst

The tide remains constant
demanding , relevant
with unrelenting presence
It is married to the bay
In a never ending struggle
of give and take
Classy J Aug 2014
I'm coming undone, so stuck, so lost, dealing with my inner demons. I've become blind to my corrupt ways, lost in mediocre land, and I only care about myself. I'm suffocating in my own selfish ways, I need deliverance from this hell of mine. The one I leave inside, that monster lurking in my soul that I can't control. I'm try to convince myself that im fine but the truth is that im not. I don't want to die, yet sometimes I want to, im so conflicted inside. I just need deliverance from evil, but I don't deserve it, and sometimes I wonder if I truly need it. I let things consume my mind, losing sight of who I am.
I've always had trouble expressing my emotions
Constantly shoveling coal into a fire that needs to be tamed
Leaving me mentally deflated
But also ready to expload
My nails dug up skin
Scratch marks in moments with a lack of thought
Burning Running down my finger tips
Where i make connection with a pen
The ink finds words I can't quite form, even though the deliverence isn't always what I pictured
Its the sweetest release I'll receive
they come in groups
watching the hawfinches
by my gate. by my gate
it fell, the hawfinch.

i had driven the mountain road
back. a liitle town,avenued,
the turning trees, adding an
edge of solemnity. coffee
and the price of fish,
greeted me.

home to find this
big beaked bird, broken.

they will come in groups.

sbm.
Jacqe Booth Feb 2010
i
Who is I?
In the Now. I am of true boi essence.
A writer, a recluse, abandoned only of fate: Destiny ever alluring in the palm of my hand.
Limited only by my own inabilty to be present in only one consciousness.
I am split between reality strings.
A permeant spectre, caught betwixt parallel dimensions.
At times incoherrant, lost in esoteric translation.
I am physic(al) - I of breath + flesh, perception being my holster, corruption my armoury.
Intuitively, i am harmonious, sanctonious, welcoming of illuminations and the darker side of each unfettered moon.
Awareness sleeps by my side. Each waking minute guarded. of commonality.
I am enlightened.
I am bouyant.
mobile, fluid-like in kinesis.
Conventional existense being the foundation over which i fly.
Arms outstretched, willing risk to be my pull.
Enticing Love to be my drag.
balance, mediums, equilibrium.
Lifted high amidst winds roaring with possibility.
I am stark in naked complication, although often prone to cover up in cynical, self critical analysis.
I am given of self; being the taker a refreshing discourse to which i stray accordingly.

Of culture i am a liar.
By nature i tend towards honesty only straying when survivalistic path need tread.
I am of blood,
private yet optimistically open to scarring.
By custom i am trained, civil, content.
Of instinct; native raw tongue, i am rampant, rapid in force, compelled to grow then emerge.
Only.
To submerge
is to take full scope.
i am telescopic
in view of A/all else to which i drown my vision.
I am unsure if i am young,
Although certain that my passage is still being lit by the glow of its entrance, dark passageways luring with their shadows and cavernous corners.
I am liberal, random in speculatory silence. I am idle, often motivated by industrial desire.
Mechanical in process, structured of cerebreal architecture, yet somewhat discombobulated in particularity.
Sporadic be my strain, its think tank choking always on the weeds of sorrow.
Essentially i am nothing: yet overwhelmingly everything.
I was
I am
I will
therefore i
Exist
to i as
A/all and nothing.
As yesterday is to tommorrow, and visa versa, i am a window, a door, a channel:
as closed as i am open.
Dependant only on my own deliverence of influence and potential.
Driven by the promise of future and the demands of my past.
I am a vehicle in time, my presence, my motion, my journey
is I.
Samy Ounon Oct 2014
An arid lantern exhales abrasive hums
It rests in the smothering cloak of humid anticipation

Names of children are scrawled on the nicotene crickets’ lattice backs
The crickets bumble in drunken waltz along the ground
They cannot fly through clouds gasping on the chains of Cerberus’ collar

The sticky smog and shadows scuttle through the low-hanging, lifeless clouds
It’s innocent origins trickle from the hem of God’s garment
To the jaded, cracked doorframe to deliverence

This sympathetic shack of dim-witted yellows and hosiery pink
She lays porcelain petals on the descending steps into indigo overcast
Description of the bus stop in the morning
ajit peter Apr 2016
By his lips he thought us to pray
A father in heaven to call every day
Hallowed be his name
Our heart to be pure for we are in his image same
We do plead on earth his kingom to come
yet we destroy the nature to benefit some
A daily bread we ask and he doth give
Do we share it with the hungry to live
Forgiveness from him we do seek
yet in our strength do we suppor the weak
We do forgive are the words we say
yet jealousy and hatred in our hearts do stay
Teamptaions he doth clear in our way
Yet by words and deeds we sow it everyday
Deliverence we do ask by his hand
yet against evil our heart doth not take a stand
His is the kingdom power and glory for ever
A father to us who forsake us never
tis a simple prayer we do say everyday
Not by words but with action in our way
Inspired by lords prayer from bible
michael campbell Mar 2013
May I see myself the way he sees me.
A brilliant light created in his majesty.
Placed on earth so it may be filled with praise and glory.
Strong in the knowledge that one day we all will be able to worship open and free.
We have been reconciled through the blood, the price paid and the battle won.
This is not the beginning nor is it the end for the deliverence of souls is our command.
The time of redemption is close at hand, the coming together of sky and land.
Those who have wondered will have a second chance, those who have never wondered will remain forever in the dark.
Unspeakable joy will be given to those past and present who have heeded the call and succumbed to the will of the Master.
Eric Flaze Mar 2010
So many feelings so many failures. I'm up im down I'm here I'm now. When I'm there im gone. Inside, outside, upside down. Here I come again.  Always leaning on my own understanding. That I'll be always with me. In my captivity. Feeling so human. I wonder how my senses. Can decieve my honesty. I have walked down a dusty road been goin through things I don't like talking about just to find my start out there. Thank god for freedom. If there wasn't an option I'd probably hate him. Right now I need more than before. So many tours I have taken. Ohh now my mind is thinkin bout where to go from here. Can you make the road seem clear.  This rollercoaster I've Been holstered needs a new engineer. I hope you hear that I'm not the best person to feel, for the pieces I left to fix. Myself in this mess. Dont close My grasp to tight. Cause it will cut me like glass. Somewhere in the clouds. I can the trumpet sound. Calling ne out my shell. Father to seek faith to believe that something could save me from hell. And in the cold I know your hands are my deliverence. To get away from my skin. The only thing that beings me falsified try. I've need to denied my own life. I'm up I'm down I'm here for now. There but gone. Seen but not heard. Was my direction. Inside outside, upside down. Lays me turning my head around. To catch a glimpse of the crowd. Who have battled through thus walk that I'm on. At the end of it I'll reach them where er they are. I thought I was Fallin apart. Submitting to my flesh  But now I've know I was really crumbling in your arms. Choosings to take a chance. In know youve Always wanted what's my best  Letting you mold my heart. You moved away the rocks. That gave me reason to believe in your voice. And choosing to follow your love.
http://www.booksie.com/song_lyrics/poetry/foliostar/all-round
Stu Harley Jul 2013
an hourglass break
her silence shield
that spiritual
dome of glass
thus weave
a sandstorm
that flows through
these mortel hands
not through temptation but
lean towards deliverence
that embrace the edge of time
ajit peter Mar 2014
By his lips he thought us to pray
A father in heaven to call every day
Hallowed be his name
Our heart to be pure for we are in his image same
We do plead on earth his kingom to come
yet we destroy the nature to benefit some
A daily bread we ask and he doth give
Do we share it with the hungry to live
Forgiveness from him we do seek
yet in our strength do we suppor the weak
We do forgive are the words we say
yet jealousy and hatred in our hearts do stay
Teamptaions he doth clear in our way
Yet by words and deeds we sow it everyday
Deliverence we do ask by his hand
yet against evil our heart doth not take a stand
His is the kingdom power and glory for ever
A father to us who forsake us never
tis a simple prayer we do say everyday
Not by words but with action in our way
many of us say this prayer maybe all over the world yet do we understand it
Mary Gay Kearns May 2018
In a hot room overlooking the football ground
I felt the pains filling my brain in reams
The sky held to blue all day and the sheets white
Then I pushed to see and someone ran the corridor.

The silver lift doors swung open and we separate
As your name I bounced off every wall, I shout,
‘Deliverance without my gentle shepherd, my love’.
You peep through green doors to a daughter born.

Love Mary
On this tiny piece of paper
Lies paradise
Awakening of the third eye
Pupils dilate and the giggles set in
My teeth start to clench and vibrations begin
From the top of my head to the tips of my toes
Energy is flowing and my problems corrode
Visual distortion
Things out of proportion
Walls bend and breathe
My hands clench my knees
And my peak has been reached
Everywhere I look, a visual change
Temporarily I'm mentally deranged
LSDs a way to get you feeling strange
But in a way that's so positive
It makes me think that god exists
My mood is lifted and my spirit soars
A happiness that I feel down in my core
A lone string of laughter
Till four hours after
And I begin coming down
And you can really enjoy
The drug that fills he void
Still hallucinating but not so belligerent
Off the peak you feel the difference
Acid a catalyst of mental deliverence
But expect to be up all night,
Till morning light
What a sight to see the sun
And your getting sober now
Sad because your high is over now
And it's time to lay down and catch some z's
You had a hell of a night, rest easy, pleased
I like acid a lot. Judge me.
LVI Elapsed October 17th's Bore Witness
To A Girl Born With True Grit

Tuss ben big goo me newt to write
and how though trite
thine complex edifice immersed in spite
which doth nobody any good RIGHT
hence hie exerted effort
from within this quite

mindful sib bull ling to detach himself from his own plight
and fashion attempt (however feeble)
   to complete before this night
a communique (my apologies if thee cognition strikes thee
   with dumbfounded hard to comprehend patois),
   but perchance a mite

bit of the following - dashed off in a huff - epistle sheds light
on ceasing to ignore yourself (envious
   of yar fierce sticktowithiveness) scaling height
of apprehension (more insurmountable than  
   natural mountain peak, versus taking flight
and shuttering ye out of my humdrum life (orchestrated
   with mild sax and violins), yea not mooch to excite
but, this effort pressing fingers
   upon select keys eventually generated a byte
size message sent via FIOS fiber optic and mostly airtight.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tis with great difficulty birthday cheer proffered,
when psyche still stung
by lash of acrimouny, calumny, effrontery, finality rung
humility indelicacy,...zealotry
as if spoken with glee from your tongue.
unwise to sustain estrangement caws
each of us imperfect, aye kin attest mine past awash with flaws,

and admit crushing impact felt from others,
especially late Zison inlaws
but, now yearly occasion of your birth opportunistic
   despite being annexed by anxiety based on uncertain laws
sans human behavior, how ye might respond,
   me owning modest kudos buffer as oopahs

   to risk brokering a detente (which avoidance
   toward thee) undermines cumulative,
endearing hur rahs
visited times gone by,
   which recent past found me unstoppably gurgling
   invariably vibrating uvulas
(yes, ja probably forgot, this bro' born
   a mutant Ninja Turtle) xy awes,

   speaking severe nasal sounds,
   when exhalation boyhood memory draws
obvious twang – another ace in the hole for bullies –
   gnashing identityguard where gauze
superfluous, and those hurtful ingrates lobbed words,

   when they may as well swang fists at me upper and lower jaws,
though decades in the past, the imprimatur indeibly etched,
   yet stinging rebukes from maws
and faux paws trigger remembrance of things past
   (analogous to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder -

in my case countless acromonious, denigrating, execrable names
contributed to Schizoid Personality Disorder –
though predisposition for sundry mental illness
most likely incsribed within mom and pop sic cull genes),
now greater  enlightenment reacting/responding to stress

comprehending my biology, chronology, ecology, geneaolgy
(fyi – Amelie paid consultant at 23andme.com for blueprint
denoting fabric housing jumbled, linkedin, nested past –
results surprisingly showed 1% Neanderthal
   comprise inherited) psychology,
thus explaining insatiable hunger for bananas,
and intermittant urge to swing from tree to tree,

whereby I willingly accept arboreal, corporeal,
   generallly less than ideal traits
which pro active overtures arrest
   (without a warrant), contest, assent everest
(albeit metaphorically) satisfactorily
   extending virtual olive branch (pitted)
recognize immutable imposibility to confront
   excrutciating bygone feelings,
this endeavor, a quest to test mine kempf zone, and endure

current flow of uneasiness (clammy
   and sweaty hands fostered by andiety),
yet exorcizing mailer demons critical
   to experience mindfullness, and requisite
to fast tract expeditious deliverence,
   whereat ye ought not be deprived

   THIS SIBLING (HAN SOLE BROTHER)
   WHOSE LOVE TOOTH HE
   (on account of dentures) DIDST OFTEN BESPEAK!
Jurtin Albine Nov 2018
Your cheeks become tight
After your tears have dried

During the times in your life
When you feel like no one wants anything to do with you

But this loneliness
Is not your final deliverence

You just have to wait through it
For your gracious comeuppance
jeffrey robin Feb 2014
It's ..... (?)

What?

••

If I knew

Should I tell ya  ?

••

I mean ya don't talk much about

-------  IT  ------

To me





••

Silence of deliverence

Silence of forgetfulness

Silence of fearfulness

Silence of pain

••

Yeah

Ya don't talk much about IT to me

••

We go where we go

We wander cliffs overlooking the sea

But we don't look out

We only look back
To

What we know and hate

••

We never say why

••

••

The bird sings

But not as well as the wind which carries the bird

The wind
As it goes forth
Thru the world

And penetrates

Into the cities

Into the shadows of alleyways

Into the tenemented lives

Of those living on these tenemented streets



The wind that can carry the bird
Higher & higher

Until
The song the bird sings

Can be heard by everyone

••

••

Heard thru the sillence

Where you are hiding

Where you think you are unknown

••

What .... (?)

Well

Perhaps there IS SOMETHING

for us to talk about

Something for you

To say to me
Stíofáinín Aug 2023
How can we bleed this heart without reason
The bullets are lodged and we keep on squeezing
A pain that knows no rhyme or reason
Solitary without a season
Emptiness, we keep on feeding
Suffocating and never healing
Until our eyes turn bloodshot red
Chocking out what should be dead
Killing myself inside of my own head
Relief, I'm waiting beneath bloodshed
But how do I believe when I'm so misled
I'll draw in our very last breath and try to reconcile this wound in myself
At the heart of the rapture
Deliverence will not be captured
And we won't live to expire
Not by blade nor flame nor fire
If I called it love I wouldn't be a liar
Conceal your secrets and bury desire
I see you now out of your shell-
You are the devil who brought me this hell

— The End —