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"dominus" poems
In the hour of death, after this life’s whim, When the heart beats low, and the eyes grow dim, And pain has exhausted every limb— The lover of the Lord shall trust in Him. When the will has forgotten the lifelong aim, And the mind can only disgrace its fame, And a man is uncertain of his own name— The power of the Lord shall fill this frame. When the last sigh is heaved, and the last tear shed, And the coffin is waiting beside the bed, And the widow and child forsake the dead— The angel of the Lord shall lift this head. For even the purest delight may pall, And power must fail, and the pride must fall, And the love of the dearest friends grow small— But the glory of the Lord is all in all.
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Dominus Illuminatio Mea
my eyes, too blind from the light of hell to see pray for you to choke the blasphemy out of me ave maria, gratia plena, dominus tecum. benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, iesus. sancta maria, mater dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae you misread my plea and loosen your holy grip and more sins spill from my ****** lips ave maria, gratia plena, dominus tecum. benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, iesus. sancta maria, mater dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae my tongue is heavy with heresy but still i babble hypocrisy ave maria, gratia plena, dominus tecum. benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus fructus ventris tui, iesus. sancta maria, mater dei, ora pro nobis peccatoribus, nunc, et in hora mortis nostrae amen
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Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
angels and demons
Pocketa, pocketa Christopher B. Behrens pianist, classical fell on his assical shattered his spine Married his sweetie Recovered completely six kids and two keeties all keep him line Yacketa, yacketa Christopher B. Behrens Loves his Lord Jesus Who loves us and sees us Through thick and through thin Lots sixty pounds of fat Jumpin' Jehosaphat Some might think that proves that he's full of win Ceteris Paribus Christopher B. Behrens Is deeply musical sometimes confusical Plays on guitars To kids at their bedtime He sings "You're my Sunshine" And sometimes at nighttime he smokes a cigar Hexasyllabically Christopher B. Behrens Econ and Business But software's like Christmas And work is like play Deskwise, a Latinist Cat-In-the-Hatinist Vobiscum Dominus Have a nice day.
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Feb 20, 2013
Feb 20, 2013 at 6:31 PM UTC
Stress the B.
Stomach Churning Mankind, Dizzy spells over the Human Race. I question and turn, "the top of the food chain." Creators of technology, bringers of pain. Yet I see small weakening cracks all over their face. Attention seekers, stalkers and unwanted love, psychologically misguided, socially excluded. small secrets and whispers, where one always intruded; gossip carried into the skies, like feathers light, above. Ripping at one's defined thought, ruining it with paranoia, Pushing one's life aside, focusing on obsession, Wishing nothing but a pair of eyes, some sort of detection; a heart leading nowhere, lips quivering with question. Women are 'weak' men are 'pathetic' children barely bear name aside ignorance. teenagers with morality that is of absence. And the old are useless, eyes bearing something synthetic. I sit here and give myself every insult; I belong to the Genus. I feel feebleness grip my heart, that is when purpose diminishes. I question if old power was real; Caesar, and Dominus! And I realize, "Every story can be made," And that is where thought finishes. - N.C
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Aug 6, 2010
Aug 6, 2010 at 7:09 AM UTC
Greatest Creation
So is my dog god as I have ordained or am I a madman, absolutely insane?   His birth name is Domino he picked it himself... a black and white pit pup he jumped on a shelf and down came the bones that anointed him so.   Domino Dominus both names mean God, but to me he's a best friend and sometimes my dog.
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 9:11 PM UTC
DoggoD
Christmas Eve mass The Ave Maria begins to play Images start to run through my mind Some of now and some not of this time Ave Maria I see the Manger before me with our dear Lord as a babe It quickly switches to a stranger letting her babe be aborted away *Gratia plena Maria, gratia plena Maria, gratia plena* I see our Lord speak of peace Then see our soldiers defending another's keep *Ave, ave dominus Dominus tecum* I hear the mortar shells as they fly through the air I hear our soldiers whisper their prayers *Benedicta tu in muli eribus Et benedictus Et benedictus fructus ventris* I see Jesus take someone in Only then to see someone not give a second look at the homeless man *Ventris tuae, Jesus Ave Maria* A mother and child searching for shelter Dressed only in thin clothes in a harsh winter *Ave Maria Mater Dei Ora pro nobis peccatoribus Ora pro nobis Ora, ora pro nobis peccatoribus* I see Him hung upon the cross To now seeing a man beheaded for proclaiming his Christianity is not lost *Nunc et in hora mortis Et in hora mortis nostrae Et in hora mortis nostrae Et in hora mortis nostrae Ave Maria* The song has now ended and my eyes are wet The tears I let fall all for remembrance Lest us not forget
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Dec 25, 2015
Dec 25, 2015 at 9:38 PM UTC
Ave Maria
Christ, religious people are boring, Just like the nutsos in the street. Half the time they start me snoring So I run away in abject defeat, Because reason can’t get through A wall of defensive superstition Which gives us back nothing but Mumbo jumbo to every question. If the neighborhood catches fire It is only but a holy God’s will. (It would be great we victims had A place we could send God the bill.) When innocent children die off Is that what a loving God wanted? That "God sees the sparrow" stuff Gets rather quickly blunted. What kind of wrathful ******** Lets genocide have a field day And doesn’t make widespread disasters Permanently dry up and go away? If God created all of us people In his own best saintly image, He sure must be an ugly sod who Needs to go back to scrimmage. If a country had a dictator As capriciously vicious as him It would surely trigger worldwide A call for a God with better whims. For thousands of years now, it seems People have been issuing prayers To some kind of entity at large That is constantly taking us nowhere. Maybe it is exactly as possible That this whole show is erroneous And the big guy on a cloud is fiction Made up out of fear and just bogus? Isn’t this just some cave-dweller dream To explain what folks found frightening? Should we be running our world today By ideas of folks afraid of lightning?
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Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 2:09 PM UTC
DOMINUS NABISCUM
Dominus misereatur the nun said to Martha what's that mean? Martha said Lord have mercy the nun said so why don't we say that instead of talking to God in a dead language? Martha said it is the language of the Church the nun said and pointed out other lines of Latin to the rest of the class Martha gazed at the black board then lifted her eyes to the huge crucifix on the wall by the dark wood boxed clock there was dust and cobwebs hanging from the arms of the Crucified and particles on the crown of thorns about His head the plaster was aged and here and there it was worn through to unpainted darkness there was no hair under His arms as there was under her da's arms when he raised them in his vest to brush his receding hair she mused the nails had been hammered into hands and feet causing the hands to curl inwards like ***** exaudi orationem meam the nun said a girl raised her hand what's it mean Sister Paul? hear my prayer the nun said Martha wondered if the Crucified had been a Greek whether he would have worn a cloth about his mid-drift or been stark naked like some Greek statues were she'd seen in books His eyes were half open looking upwards His beard had a long string of cobweb hanging down needs cleaning Martha mused needs a good wash she muttered looking at the clock tick-tocking beside Him at half-past ten and she muttered a soft Amen.
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May 2, 2016
May 2, 2016 at 3:36 AM UTC
NEEDS WASHING 1963
You cannot judge me, dear fellow For I was and am to be Like the moon, stars and sun in the meadow Here in the great world of dreams. Yet when I slept, I saw Him beside me When I had awaken, I was alone And when I had died no more Ego sum dominus fati mei... Ego sum dominus anima et fati mei...
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 9:01 PM UTC
Vita Invictus
Dance with me; Under this moonlight - A song hangs prosy, Through the January air ~ Give me your heart, Send it to the angels - Ut benedicta cor meum Ut novus dominus est scriptor; Up into the air, Of our divine night
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Jan 4, 2018
Jan 4, 2018 at 2:58 AM UTC
Moonlight
No little script That I have wrought Could be so perfect So tightly fraught With such tones and Temperament With your bones And subtle inference Yet there you hum Whilst I write To catch a crumb Of your in-finite Sing a hallow Gold, cold refrain So I may swallow And remain in-sane For the aria, my dear Splays my soul And such, I fear Might that, be all
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May 27, 2017
May 27, 2017 at 2:41 PM UTC
Nisi Dominus - *** Dederit
Sanctus satanas, sanctus Dominus diabolus sabaoth satanas-venire satanas venire Ave, satanas, Ave satanas Tui sunt caeli Ave satanas.
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Oct 14, 2014
Oct 14, 2014 at 2:29 PM UTC
My daily Prayer
I woke to the morning bell like one electrified like a switched on bulb, quod esset lux copiosa, a buzzing in my head as if bees were awoke there and I woke with them, Dom Andrew he of large beard and tonsured head said it was the way the room were laid as drew me to the abbey and he died of cancer years later, **** these she said **** for all you're worth and I did as a greedy child, bóg jest w twoim sercu the Polish monk said by the abbey gardens as I pulled weeds, Hugh sour faced polished the choir stalls until his face shone like a blushing bride, breathe in this air Dom Joseph said God's breath is here amongst us as we talk and we sat on the beach in conflab, enter your ship here she said into my tight harbour and she laughed and I did too, the world's thy ship and not thy home Therese said, the smell of incense as I entered church lifted me up from dark doldrums at dawn's light, être en paix avec Dieu the French monk said as I aided him in the task of mowing lawns and side paths, George my fellow novice laughed at the size of the napkins around our neck and in our laps like bedsheets he said, we can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light Gareth said quoting Plato, death and dark are similar to the child in man, locutusque est Dominus ad me in lucem, was as if I were deaf or blind and God knew and blessed, ship into harbour with ease and joy and ***** were a forest to wade through to joy's gate, the bells ceased tolling and the echo evaporated like drying water in the sun's heat, and would have washed His head and if humble enough have kissed His feet.
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Feb 3, 2016
Feb 3, 2016 at 2:08 AM UTC
KISSED HIS FEET 1971.
I woke to the morning bell like one electrified like a switched on bulb, quod esset lux copiosa, a buzzing in my head as if bees were awoke there and I woke with them, Dom Andrew he of large beard and tonsured head said it was the way the room were laid as drew me to the abbey and he died of cancer years later, **** these she said **** for all you're worth and I did as a greedy child, bóg jest w twoim sercu the Polish monk said by the abbey gardens as I pulled weeds, Hugh sour faced polished the choir stalls until his face shone like a blushing bride, breathe in this air Dom Joseph said God's breath is here amongst us as we talk and we sat on the beach in conflab, enter your ship here she said into my tight harbour and she laughed and I did too, the world's thy ship and not thy home Therese said, the smell of incense as I entered church lifted me up from dark doldrums at dawn's light, être en paix avec Dieu the French monk said as I aided him in the task of mowing lawns and side paths, George my fellow novice laughed at the size of the napkins around our neck and in our laps like bedsheets he said, we can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light Gareth said quoting Plato, death and dark are similar to the child in man, locutusque est Dominus ad me in lucem, was as if I were deaf or blind and God knew and blessed, ship into harbour with ease and joy and ***** were a forest to wade through to joy's gate, the bells ceased tolling and the echo evaporated like drying water in the sun's heat, and would have washed His head and if humble enough have kissed His feet.
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Dearest fair Lilith, impure and horned The same indeed we both have scorned For Adam, as well, did not intend to forsake But your luscious beauty were all it did take And what of Eve, who could not imagine such sinistry She got just one taste of you and abandoned her ministry Dominus Deus above, bearing good tidings and wrath And Malus Infernus below, with all his pitiful chained Together they attempted to divert us from this dire path Yet neither could keep us prisoner against the preordained So, with bells and umbrellas we skipped straight out of Eden Hand in hand now we stroll among the bruised and the beaten Too many souls perished when we were denounced as forbidden This shall be a lesson to learn not to believe what is written Now entangled in each other and quite merrily depraved Lilith and Eve cannot ever be saved...
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Jun 21, 2014
Jun 21, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
thedamning(of)eve
Shadow crept into my life one dismal winter’s night Perverting me with its touch. They came from the shadows Formless beings made of hatred, Of greed. Without a care they plucked me from my nest My life As if I were but a simple pebble from a beach A memento for their wives. I was not for their wives, however But for those of a greater disposition. Those of antiquated lineage The founders of our way. Those with jewels on their fingers, Flowers in their hair Perfume floating in the air. Before long I was swept away Into a new life of servitude, One from which there was no escape, No Sanctuary. Shackles on my hands, Lashes on my back I did their bidding with a smile on my face To distract me from my pain. It was no use. Months floated by As if my life were but a dream. The same routine. Months became years I was still theirs. My face still belonged to the back of their hands, My back to the clap of their whip, My ribs to the force of their kicks. No reprieve for a lowlife like me. I came to accept my life in time. It was my fault. The woods were never a place for my kind The son of a prefect, The pretty little boy with slaves of his own Who belonged to him. Their bodies Their souls. Only now do I realise there was no luck involved In fate’s betrayal of her child I deserve this This life of servitude.
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Jun 12, 2017
Jun 12, 2017 at 1:25 PM UTC
Dominus
Nisi Dominus Frustra Scant legible tantra Muscled marbled muse Adorned, confused Standing in Massivity Before us, behind us.
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Feb 16, 2017
Feb 16, 2017 at 3:28 PM UTC
Nothing at All
The black robed monk closed the huge book his voice echoed through the church disturbing dust from rafters, et dixit Dominus ad me, Dom Joe found me in the common room and said I could come the following year so I did and left defeated, parlare con me in tempi bui the Italian monk said that time in the cloister before Vespers, place a finger here she said delve in my silk purse and I did soft as kitten fur, if every little flower wanted to be a large rose spring would lose its loveliness Therese said some place I read, perdu avec à Dieu the French monk said as I was cutting the hedge by the drive leading to the abbey and he passing, she took my pecker in her hand and like a snake charmer charmed, the incense in the air after Mass still there at the office of Sext and I sniffed it in like one hooked, Hugh made from wood a bookshelf for the common room to hold the gifts of books from guests who left, George polished the choir stalls with yellow duster and tinned wood polish and elbow grease, I wanted to lie in the bed in my room(cell) until midday sun but the bell for Matins tolled and I rose at 5am to dawn's dull light, ecce **** and I tried to behold but my eyes saw only shadows on walls and mind caves, Dom James wanted to smoke but didn't but nibble his fingernails and the incense smoke a reminder in the air lingering there.
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Jul 25, 2016
Jul 25, 2016 at 3:55 PM UTC
LINGERING THERE MCMLXXI.
C'est le chien de Jean de Nivelle Qui mord sous l'œil même du guet Le chat de la mère Michel ; François-les-bas-bleus s'en égaie. La Lune à l'écrivain public Dispense sa lumière obscure Où Médor avec Angélique Verdissent sur le pauvre mur. Et voici venir La Ramée Sacrant en bon soldat du Roy. Sous son habit blanc mal famé, Son cœur ne se tient pas de joie, Car la boulangère... - Elle ? - Oui dam ! Bernant Lustucru, son vieil homme, A tantôt couronné sa flamme... Enfants, Dominus vobiscum ! Place ! en sa longue robe bleue Toute en satin qui fait frou-frou, C'est une impure, palsembleu ! Dans sa chaise qu'il faut qu'on loue Fût-on philosophe ou grigou, Car tant d'or s'y relève en bosse Que ce luxe insolent bafoue Tout le papier de monsieur Loss ! Arrière ! robin crotté ! place, Petit courtaud, petit abbé, Petit poète jamais las De la rime non attrapée ! Voici que la nuit vraie arrive... Cependant jamais fatigué D'être inattentif et naïf François-les-bas-bleus s'en égaie.
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361
Le chien de Jean de Nivelle
In what order, should I read my Nietzsche How the **** should I try and reach ya Try to communicate, accused of tryin to teach ya Beyond good and evil, now I’m a preacher Havin’ fun with Friedrich Sic erat scriptum Syphilitic reasoning Dominus vobiscum Philosophy, Biology doesn’t feature After all, we’re all despicable creatures Battery farmed, intent on goodness All of us failing, except for Jesus Exercising mind control and thought patrol What were you trying to teach us? The purpose is to procreate No additional features.
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Oct 24, 2017
Oct 24, 2017 at 3:43 PM UTC
Havin fun with Friedrich