"denounce" poems
My Court is a battle
As a Queen, I will endure
so my kingdom thrives
Standing in gardens
My treasure trove of colours
that never fails me
Flowers bow gently
The winds make the tall trees sing
Rivers flow calmly
Scents drift in the light
I hear its sweet melody
As I stand with pride
A Queen now enters
The daughter of Spring and Deer
The tender Queen Fawn
Who smiles so sweetly
Fragrant, soft-spoken and kind
With deer by her side
Another Queen comes
The angel with a kind heat
The gentle Queen Sue
Who has healed her wounds,
broken her chrysalis
And spreads her warm light
Another Queen comes
Wise and soon to be married
Joyful Queen Donna
Who goes with the flow
A talented haikuist
with a flower crown
Another Queen comes
She who is always giving
The giving Queen Kim
Whose crown's a halo
And her words, so spiritual
fragrant and calming
Another Queen comes
Who has birds singing so sweet
The sweet Queen Robin
Who is a true joy
Whose words are just like music
A kindred spirit
And now a King comes
Who is very much like me
The great King Omni
Who is an artist
Who is both seen and unseen
Very much like me
Another King comes
Ever so mischieveous
The playful King Paul
Such a playful tease
He who makes me smile and laugh
And looks out for me
Another King comes
His heart is strong and tender
The wise King Edmund
Who writes for himself
Speaks so well of others and
how vital love is
To these Kings and Queens
Thank you for your melodies
You are golden souls
For now I do see
The true power of my quill
My ink is gold too
I write out my life
My pain, my fears and my loves
And my achievements
I must stay above
I will walk with my head up
and ignore the bad
People will hate me
But I will thicken my skin
to be a true queen
I will empower
And give you all your respects
and never denounce
I am a true Queen
With a Court that is growing
steadily but strong
The reign of Queen Lyn
Who is sensitive and shy
It has just begun
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 3:21 PM UTC
survival of the most dissociative
you don’t need anyone
to make you feel
you can feel all by yourself
you can feel any emotion you want
you have been given the full reportoire
whiteness can give you wealth
can get you ***** and enslaved
whiteness can get you anything
any type of dissociation
legal liberty
dissociative profit
an accumulation of dissociative value
to get this much sugar
dissociative cooperation of whiteness
an empire of dissociative investment
dissociative throne of power
out of control
with the need to control
anger
jealousy
envy
of those who are trying to be human
native
culture
ethnicity
anger and frustration
force and pressure to make dissociate
whiteness breathing together
against
if the cooperation of whiteness catches you
going back to help those
it tried to bury behind
dissociative reality
a desperate reality
that ceases to exist
when the intensity
of the dissociative cooperation
ceases to exist
am I the only one manifesting this honesty
a diagnosis of the diagnosers
intimate communication
tattooing the world forever
undeniable language of change
I gave all the history of dissociation
to the world
exposing abuse that is
the pride of dissociative
white supremacy
we are not the objects
of dissociative value
an association of focus
not cooperating
studying and exposing
resisting dissociation
conflicting value of nativity
accumulative value of resistance
resilience unafraid
unflinching fearless
vulnerable
reincarnating
intimate honesty
lights down low revolution
subtle
in the face of dissociative force
I need my fix of dissociation
please
do it with me
no wait
reinforce resistance
keep it up with breathing
dont conspire dissociation
I am decomposition
so I leave behind
an abrasive language
so abrasive
any remnant
of sensitivity
of dissociation
is drawn in to contemplate
to question its intentions
an exorcism of dissociative whiteness
giving into nativity
self righteousness
desperately competing to dissociate
like whiteness
**** them and you
there is beauty outside of this dissociation
Americanized
the diseased spread
of dissociative *******
dissociative procreation
the evolution of dissociative selection
Darwin’s cousin tortured and destroyed
it is fun and exciting to
denounce dissociation
do it with me
Sep 8, 2018
Sep 8, 2018 at 11:01 PM UTC
***
***
~ ♡ ~
A
dark day
has befallen the
Court of Hello Poetry
How it saddens me to see
the good Queens and Kings
to suffer at the hands of jealous
enemies who seek to destroy others
and their Kingdoms. Though she was
exquisitely dressed, she had a humble
heart; many had a good word about her,
though I did not get to meet her, though I
did not see her, I could see the light she
had shine in the hearts of others. She
had a wonderful smile but invaders;
false Kings and Queens spewed
nothing but abuse, and it
made her surrender
her crown
~ ♡ ~
I
could only
watch as she
grabbed the ends of
her silk skirts and run out
of the bustling halls, tears down
her soft face. I could not reach
her but at the dawn, from the
balcony, I saw the ship sail
away, towards the sunset
into the unknown. How
my heart is so
heavy
~ ♡ ~
To
see a
true artist,
a true queen
leave forever. At
seeing her tears, her
crying soul staining the
floral marble floors, and the
invaders feeling satisfied at
her pain and her 'destruction'
Those who dare to denounce
are never Kings or Queens.
To be so jealous, so insecure
and think you led her to
her 'destruction'
~ ♡ ~
I
will say
this - you may
have won the battle
but you will NEVER
win the war. Because the
true Kings and Queens will
band together, we will stand
together to protect our haven for
we see, we know who the true artists
are. I will continue to shed tears of pain
and sorrow for the loss of this artist, but
I will always hope that when the sun rises
she will return to us once more. She will
never leave our minds, she has touched
so many hearts. Her legacy, her reign,
her kingdom will always stand
eternal, will stand immortal
now and always.
~ ♡ ~
***
***
Aug 16, 2018
Aug 16, 2018 at 9:37 AM UTC
Born a King
Born a Queen
Born a Slave
Born into freedom only to be
Caged
Shackled bound confined
Scared
Caged
Far from the Motherland
A people
Made sculpt molded
In her image
Brown earth
Yellow sun
Mahogany dark
Like the stone unyielding
Proud like the Kilimanjaro
Minds open like the plains
Of the Serengeti
Free
Only to be brought here
Caged
Used abused overwhelmed exhausted
Caged
Thrown away when aged like broken toys
Broken minds broken spirits afraid of our own image
Caged
Here we stand today with all the technology the worlds knowledge at our fingertips
Caged
Brothers’ sisters’ fathers sons’ mothers’ daughters’ families ripped apart
Torn at the seams no village to be seen
Caged
We are at war with violence ignorance rage
A horrible legacy indeed ……Caged
Our once proud people afraid to face the future
We are creating to our shame the same source of fear ignorance and rage
In our most valuable assets our jewels our destiny
Our children
Our vision
In our cage we destroy each other
We are racist in our own race
We defame denounce deplore each other
Are we comfortable complacent satisfied in our cage?
Our history tell us no our descendents tell us we shouldn’t be
They say to us we have no limits boundaries restrictions
They found the keys to the cage
They urge us they encourage us they push us in the direction of the stars
Come out of your comfort zones
Embrace hold tight pull it in
The spirits of Our Kings Our Queens Our history
Teach if you can learn
Learn if you can teach
Open minds hearts souls
Receive your freedom
Unlock the
Cage.
Free! Liberate! Unshackle!
Black history is not a month it’s your life.
Mar 31, 2013
Mar 31, 2013 at 4:26 PM UTC
In my childhood rumors ran
Of a world beyond our door—
Terrors to the life of man
That the highroad held in store.
Of mermaids' doleful game
In deep water I heard tell,
Of lofty dragons belching flame,
Of the hornèd fiend of Hell.
Tales like these were too absurd
For my laughter-loving ear:
Soon I mocked at all I heard,
Though with cause indeed for fear.
Now I know the mermaid kin
I find them bound by natural laws:
They have neither tail nor fin,
But are deadlier for that cause.
Dragons have no darting tongues,
Teeth saw-edged, nor rattling scales;
No fire issues from their lungs,
No black poison from their tails:
For they are creatures of dark air,
Unsubstantial tossing forms,
Thunderclaps of man's despair
In mid-whirl of mental storms.
And there's a true and only fiend
Worse than prophets prophesy,
Whose full powers to hurt are screened
Lest the race of man should die.
Ever in vain will courage plot
The dragon's death, in coat of proof;
Or love abjure the mermaid grot;
Or faith denounce the cloven hoof.
Mermaids will not be denied
The last bubbles of our shame,
The Dragon flaunts an unpierced hide,
The true fiend governs in God's name.
4.3k
Rest your weary body
Drink from my golden goblet
The most delicate and finest of wines
A potion of wild raspberries, bitterness and jeering contempt
Assault the light that dare not shine
It is the elixir of a dispassionate heart
If you possess no fear
Taste the confectionery of sadness call
Where love frightened evades approach
Upon remembrance of the long dark fall
Sip from the golden goblet
Taste the cruel sweetness of pain
Damnation to those who denounce the motive behind the actions
Until the bed of anguish you have lain
But these rare wines have no equal in quality
Defiled by evil and cursed with shame
The unquenchable thirst for blood taints the golden rim
As the murderous night slew the rising of the day
So lift high the golden goblet and drink
An immortal taste of time
Accompany me into the world of melancholy
Where is served the most of exquisite wines
Come close now the hour when words become whispers
Demanding recompense for the crimes.
All Rights Reserved @ Tammy M. Darby Feb. 8. 2017
Written for the Monster
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
are we really woke as much as we all claim to be?
or are we woke to ease our minds, which ain't reality?
of course we've signaled heavy change, i won't deny that's true
but let me have your ear for now, give you another view
are you really woke because you post a rant on twitter,
but bop to Chris Brown's music even tho we know he hit her?
are you really woke cause you were born into the slums,
but if you make it out,
you forget where you are from?
are you really woke because you claim to love black hair?
but only like the softer textures, is that really fair?
are you really woke 'cause you admire that 4c?
but put down girls who have relaxers, wigs, or wear a weave?
are you really woke because you claim to love all people,
but if ya boy is gay you will denounce him at the steeple?
are you really woke because you say you know what's right,
but ostracize your fellow blacks,
simply cause "they talk white?"
are you really woke because you claim to love all colors,
but date a darker women? yikes! you'd rather find another
are you really woke because you claim you've got insight,
but if i am depressed, you say that mess is for the whites?
i bring up all these issues not because i hate my own
i bring up all these issues just because they're never shown
and if we are to grow and prosper,
thrive and shed our past,
we need to have these conversations,
make sure that they last
Jan 16, 2019
Jan 16, 2019 at 1:59 PM UTC
There is no end to this madness
A world without a heart
This place that we're called humans
Yet humane we are
We're not
How can we let it happen
Our rulers play us games
A risk
A lie
A maybe if
To let our children blame
So stop the bombs and scrap the bullet
It's us that make them all
Instead lets work on feeding life
And curing all the poor
It's us that turn our backs away
Yet yearn for news in frenzy
See breaking news and nod our heads
I am a prole
It's crazy
They fly around and tell us
To work and love the rules
When war is near upon us
We follow
Who's the fools
Why can we not talk peace again
Unite the world as one
Religion forms
Yet money rules
Where has the love all gone
I only want a peaceful life
I only get one chance
Denounce the rich and share this love
It's time we took control
Let Syria
Have a chance
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 1:15 AM UTC
*did i tell you about that orca (killer whale)
that killed a killer white (shark)?
yeah, flipped him on the stomach
inducing a conscious sleeping position
of the shark, belly up... the ****** orca
drowned the shark.*
dear daffodils counting to only sixteen
springs, why blossom why bloom so soon?
lemmy was part of something better
than his solo project... no one really talks
'bout his solo crazy train antics,
so why talk lemmy why talk ozzy os' burn
and simply dismiss hawkwind & black sabbath?
oh -
*na kraju nocy i u progu dnia
kogut na dachu pieje
w głowie sie kręci
da na da na da
gorączka znów szaleje.*
given all that, imagine a seal on a drift of ice,
a stowaway of a berg,
then imagine why, it's seeking a monastery,
there are four orcas beneath the mirror surface
of the water, in formation, like horses
to the gallop of a wind's flute eolides,
and they're moving in, dipping with tail
fin exertion of some reflex spasm -
and the mini tsunami created suddenly
tilts the seal's monastery and the seal plops
into the depths... where it's only an old
cloth rag soon to be mince.
p.s. i denounce the polish diacritical mark
over o to make u (ó) as not diacritical at all...
it's an aesthetic mark, and yes, it does look pretty.
Jan 8, 2016
Jan 8, 2016 at 5:47 AM UTC
Three Nails (...)
Not so many as to denounce
A job done to make me well.
Three rudimentary spikes to nail
A man's own flesh to wood.
Three nails cannot
Seem so much to proffer;
Human efforts complementing
God's sacrificial offer.
A self-inflicted crucifixion?
Yes, I would do my part;
Would do me good, I think,
To offer up an offering to God.
So let this painful work,
Human endeavoring,
Perfection capturing,
Begin.
A simple thing, I think,
To hoist and hammer
Nails into myself,
A manly job to undertake
Impaling self
To spare my God
A little work.
The first, perhaps
Most painful...
To stop the feet
Their wandering ways,
To give me pause for just a bit
To meditate in pain
And to reflect or to project
Myself in better ways.
.
Then on to nail number two,
One hand to hold the nail
And one the hammer.
The pain intense
Impacts my good intent.
.
And yet, I've nailed number two,
And finding where the problem lies,
I have no way to nail thrice.
My living flesh begins to writhe
Its will-ward way,
E'en though in sky-ward
Agony my soul now wails.
Then I remember
Someone said,
"Your crucifixion stands
Upon a different hill,
Hangs on a different tree."
. . .
Though I can never end my flesh,
He paid my debt for me.
Dec 13, 2012
Dec 13, 2012 at 9:01 AM UTC
She and I exchanged disdainful glances
across the parking lot. The verbally brash
invitation she gave me at 10:30 two nights
earlier from a low-riding car resounded
in my brain. She wanted our graduating class
to get together and sit awkwardly around
a campfire while a few reminisced
of homeroom and half days back in high
school. And as the last few embers glowed
like residence halls, she would clear
her throat and bash college. She’d denounce
the curriculum, professors, and parking spaces
then praise the days of hurrying through carpeted
hallways and freshmen traffic. To see our classmates
laughing with hands outstretched to the flames
would bring a smile to her summer-chapped lips.
But we’re no longer classmates.
We’re just seventeen people trying to live our lives
outside the confines of Galeton High School. Sure,
we’ll bite our tongues and fake smiles every now
and then, but we’ll never be more than superficial.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 2:36 PM UTC
give me the pleasure of knowing
that i can please you in ways that not even you can
i want to detain your innermost secrets
i want to become more familiar with your body than you are
tell me your favorite fingers
let’s discover your favorite toy
i want to know which spot makes you shiver
i want to know which spot makes you moan
i want to know exactly what type of stroke makes you shake
i want to know which spot makes
your eyes
your hips
your head
roll
so that i know precisely when to roll you over
and vivaciously assault you from behind
while i croak romantic entities
and watch them travel down the notches of your spine
and wrap themselves around your earlobes
and curl their exclamatory hands around your throat
and reach around your body
and diligently massage your ****
while the planes of your forearms give out
due to the weariness of supporting not only your body
but also the head on your shoulders
whirring with the fact that this moment is almost
too large for you
just like the member pumping
in and out of you is
and just like that member
these moments were at first
difficult to swallow
let me stop
and take a moment to admire the way sweat
gives your curves a flattering spotlight
and provides the candles in the room more reason to
applaud and reach their crowns in the air
almost as if to detach themselves from
their own wax and join us
in order to extinguish
the fire deep within themselves
by allowing me to drown them in their own juices
just as you have
i want to admire the way sheets of sweat
glaze your skin
in the same way your juices glaze
your opening
let me enter you
as you pucker your mouth
bite your lip
and beg for more
i want to know exactly what makes you
denounce me to the dirtiest of things
give me a title only worn by those wearing sweat
and exhalations
scream my name
pull those eyebrows together
and spread those legs further apart
and let the part of me
that isn’t me
(but is me)
deeper inside of you
let me carry you to ******
afterwards i'll lean down and bury my mouth
between your legs
and taste what meal your supplementary pair of lips
have prepared for me
i want to digest my libidinous progress
and mount this triumph in my heart
as the first of many
powerfully lecherous
conquered temptations
k.n
Jul 16, 2013
Jul 16, 2013 at 7:56 AM UTC
Do you believe the powers come from heaven in rain?
Denounce the brittle, little lies that keep you detained.
With one fell swoop your family denies that womb water
from their line ever held you. Our child, disgraceful.
Hold me now, wicked wind, in twilight to find truth,
for no amount of trying will mend the boards began
pried to the point of breaking right loose. Glue won't
fix this rift. Don't worry, I find it nice that some do
get to choose. Ungrateful mug, she rejected our
love by walking with her brow upright. Beaten none,
for the patchwork of lashes mashed in back above
the *** of property, branded and pushed in.
The sky will call a caw for you on one more day
you kept yourself from death, promising to do
your due, never invite the listless, self-inflicted
sorrow, others lip to ear in shadow gaslight to
imbue. One more day others in shadow decline
interview.
I. Will sing a prayer.
(She denies the gods given)
I. Own nothing to give.
(Free and kindly)
I. Will sing.
As much and where I would like to sing.
(She's another one with a will)
Not crying at the back of the world, not holding just to hold.
(She's another one who hunts happiness as if to others she's disappeared)
Not stopping to cry back at the ceiling holding me
to the floor in a box as its missing pieces
(When she's only a another piece)
Jul 29, 2015
Jul 29, 2015 at 8:38 PM UTC
It was raining very torridly that day,
The cold was so frigid here in Karnal.
A pregnant lady was rushed to the hospital,
The Antichrist was born that evening.
Sceptic of old traditions the boy grew,
Not feeling the justification of religion.
Though I know about the good things in books,
But still I am that irreligious man now.
Always approving of the creator God,
That almighty remains unquestionable.
Not He Himself had dictated things to anybody,
I denounce the need for money in faith.
Feb 24, 2015
Feb 24, 2015 at 11:56 PM UTC
Monday morning gloom expresses
its chilling breath
onto my frozen numb skin.
Monday morning shot
of hot caffeine would not melt the frozen sun
hiding in the grey horizon.
Monday morning blur
from the piercing shards
of vague reality, entering–failing–the dense cranium.
*I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(a new one I rebuild inside my head.)*
A g h a s t l y voice whisper…
*I opened my eyes and my world drops dead.
(reality’s rebuilt outside my head.)*
Monday morning
stabbed me with a flickering smile
and broken stares
made of guilt and humiliation.
Aug 31, 2012
Aug 31, 2012 at 11:57 AM UTC
Definitions divide the divine of what we desire.
Do not delegate your dreams under definitions.
You do not decide what you desire.
Denounce you struggle and discard your plan.
Don't you remember the first day we danced down the dry river?
Droplets of rain drained from the sun. Drenched hearts and delicate hands are depicted.
Delicate hearts we possess.
Dreamy days will drag out.
We are far more deserving than we deem.
We delight in our debt.
We drowned in our doubt.
Dec 7, 2011
Dec 7, 2011 at 4:48 PM UTC
Lovely skies
Dark with clouds and rain
Leaden skies
Lead, Pb, Plumbum
Flat diffuse light, photographer's dream
Latin 4 lead = plumbum
We plumb our psychic oceans' depths, as the sailors did
With lead on their sinker lines
We plumb our depths if we choose
When we are earnestly explorative
Reflecting, meditating, in our psychic plumbing
Pb: the ugly duckling brother of glowing gold
Au of the aura Aurum
Both are soft, malleable, unassailable, & so helpful
Gold like Thor the glowing hero, lead like Vulcan the sooty artificer
We have made one the hero, and misused,
Demonized, besmirched the metal lead
Is it lead's fault we have put it in our paint, our gas?
That we made it accumulate in our fish, like fools?
Without lead, your car would not start
Imagine going on your trips on a mule
Or trundling down the road in an ox cart
Do not denounce lovely lead
Gravid, protector, quiet engine starter
Gently available to you to plumb your depths
Before your chapter's demise
Leaden skies
Lovely skies
Gravid with rain
Keep me grounded, serene and sane
Apr 3, 2015
Apr 3, 2015 at 2:52 PM UTC
The first time I visited the freak show
I nearly burst into tears
It wasn’t because of the cruelty of it all
It wasn’t because of their cruel deformities
It wasn’t even guilt, not even a bit
It wasn’t about the greed from the stupid ***
Who ran the freak show
I burst into tears because I immediately understood
That the roles were reversed
And that we were the freaks
We, the cowards, who hide our deformities
And denounce our guilt as useless morality
And clutch onto greed and a hunger for entertainment
While every day we ourselves star in the freak’s parade
And the freaks themselves they are not moved
By my dreaded revelations
For them the truth was always pure and simple
Bonded by their deformities
They understand kinship and compassion
As they clutch on to each other
And the parade of freaks moves past them once more
Nov 3, 2015
Nov 3, 2015 at 1:01 PM UTC
With the heart worn like an
old man's shoe
With the wind a last friend
of my second hand jacket
all blown and frail
I continue
to denounce the golden streets of disguised power
to trounce on hidden cops
to pounce on everything rotten in Denmark
to reek and to rage
like a rusting zoo cage
an overturned ****
a pensive white button
withering in my brain
a push cart filled with
burning accusations
I remain
street bound weary
I'm that secret little hope
gnawing at the nape
of your neck
Note: Re-written in Sofia, Bulgaria on the 14th of July 2012 after once again (after so many countless times) being followed and harassed even in front of my own house...I guess it's nice to know that some people read poetry very very attentively ;--))
Jul 14, 2012
Jul 14, 2012 at 8:49 AM UTC
Out of the loop de loop into the swirl of hoopla hoop
Transfer into the oasis of illusion, awaiting the water boat
Fall over the bolder dropped from your shoulder
Rolling and gathering moss, scraping off the parasites
Bowling the ball down the aisle into the skittle alley
Knocking down those fellows who denounce you
Don't hear you, read through your eyes to the back of
Your head and beyond, into their own ace of space
Rolling around the ground belly aching their sound
Machine, mean warriors of gloom, for soon they'll fall
Short of time to relish their pleasure boat, punting along
Paddling their pedalo into the grey below, capsizing
Forlorn arms stretching out to capture, only trickery
Bickering, as you fall through the gaps and rake your ratted
Soul with grit between teeth, spit, of solemn men who
Give out black track thoughts for you to devour.....
Finality bleats, gongs the looming song....the hour, fatal shower
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 6:06 AM UTC
Pour myself another drink
I should stop writing and denounce HP
It has become a voice to my nightly brain fever
More serious disease than syphilis
As it eats away at my brain
I suspect in much the same way
In past a vent for the toxic thoughts off divorce
Preoccupied in bitter tears and hatred
Not seeing its healing potential till now
A display of my emotion
Sometimes intense yet so often lost to others
A soap box of parody that hid a broken heart
An inverse playground of my deepest fears
In that it has many swings and roundabouts
Of love, for others here
Some home so long since gone
Dealings with grief and loss of substance
My family
Now seems like a wrecking ball formed verse when re read
Others I cannot see where I was in my head
Lights on yet not at home
The words don't fit now
I thought STOP!
Delete
But that would be failed testament to myself.
The gin now speaks not me (metaphoric as drinking Bundaberg Guava as good for the kidneys and to wash down my acidophIlus tablets just to clear up that I'm not a wino!)
A bottle opened to embrace
Odd as I can't remember when I last loaded
More so on a school night
I was told to look in not omit myself by helping others
Give me some me time
I have time
I dwell, cogitate to detriment and find no solution
So Yes may be his answer and his inner solace
It is not yet for me.
Goodnight Mrs Kalabash see you in St Louis
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 9:27 PM UTC
Thine hours shed themselves,
Moment upon minutes upon hour
curtsy to thy shining name,
leaden with embellishments
of snow and americas of golden
tears.
Stained time, spilt;
to denounce thine image.
May 24, 2016
May 24, 2016 at 1:52 PM UTC
You have heard the phrase, “Have I got a testimony”
But the ironic statement being, “Have I got a sermon”
My theme, “MAN MAKES PROMISES, BUT JESUS GIVES RESULTS”
Words tend to have power, but it is what is behind them being influenced
It is also what is established as a probably or maybe
But one who guarantees, and the other entity lacking assurance to proceed
But let’s look at the word “PROMISE”
It is an expectancy, sure thing, arrival, waiting, fulfillment and anticipation
That is man’s definition from the dictionary, but there is no guarantee nor reliability
But God’s fulfillment of the promise, he sees ahead in what you will definitely expect at the right time frame at the right moment
This is called Understanding, Believing, Praising and it is done
But your faith being a commitment as a Christian with divine honesty
As a Christian, you must truly have faith that promise will come, but with that is the praise on high with no doubting of why
Results come when one believes on Christ and questionable thoughts on man’s term
But man is short term and God is long term
Somehow the scale is in balanced because short term doesn’t last very long and God’s long term is where a Christian needs to belong
There seems to be boundaries of the promise with no clarity in what man presents
Yet God’s glory continues to represent, but it is all about praying and praying without ceasing
What holds you back in the Promise, is the negativity thoughts that keep you from seeing the promise and believing
What is it, people keep pick up a novel and read from beginning to end, but can’t time to read the bible to feed their soul and obtain knowledge
Again, understanding and promise are the keys in what we need to see
Man seems to focus on separation of man being their own elect and playing a game of place your bets in their promise
It is a win or lose theory, but now it is apparent and you must chose
But when the promise comes from God you automatically win and there is no lose
Because Praise, Joy and Blessings come as there is an obligation being a commitment of Faith
But God continues and will always say, “I am the way”
Yet man says that’s not ok
If you are depending on man with the promise and results
Think again saints
Man wants you to denounce the promise and results that God will truly provide the time is right
Don’t doubt or your promise and results will pass you by
God wants you to be patient with every try
Promise and results work hand in hand
It all comes at God’s command
Remember Man’s idea of promise and results wants you to move your hope
But man wants you to think on their promise and results because they can’t cope
God’s promise wants you to be steadfast and move forward
Your spiritual blessings will be straight line of onward
Don’t wonder where did promise and results really go
It has been God’s understanding all along and you now know.
Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 8:42 PM UTC
I know what it is like to feel passion;
the way my skin tingles at your touch
Leaving me breathless and wanting more.
The two of us entangled in the darkness.
your blinds drawing shadows across my figure
As your fingers gently graze my cheek.
you penetrate my soul with your own
and I feel so close to you it hurts.
I know what it is like to love another;
denounce your whole being unto him and trust
Him with the power to destroy your essence.
He will never know what he has done to me.
He will never know the power he has over me.
He will never know the passion I have for him now.
I know what it is like to be in love; for
I am captivated by your eyes,
by the upturned corners of your mouth
and most simply by the feeling I get around you.
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 1:05 AM UTC