"elijah" poems
1235
Like Rain it sounded till it curved
And then I new ’twas Wind—
It walked as wet as any Wave
But swept as dry as sand—
When it had pushed itself away
To some remotest Plain
A coming as of Hosts was heard
It filled the Wells, it pleased the Pools
It warbled in the Road—
It pulled the spigot from the Hills
And let the Floods abroad—
It loosened acres, lifted seas
The sites of Centres stirred
Then like Elijah rode away
Upon a Wheel of Cloud.
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Death, sweet Death, beckons to me.
He is a lighthouse, warning most to avoid his realm
But He calls me by my name
He tells me to be dead is the greatest gift Life has to offer
And whispers of the secret joys of His hazy oblivion.
"Come my child and partake of my treasures," and
"Your troubles shall cease even as your spirit roams," are His entreaties.
At first His voice is as soft as the waves lapping at the shore
But as I ignore him his call becomes
louder
Louder
LOUDER
Than the squall of a maelstrom
Until He is all I hear
His voice dries up the Happiness fed by
Hope, who is a frightened dove.
And when Hope ceases to feed you in the morning and in the the evening, then
"Elijah, you are alone."
So
End Life to escape from Death.
Cast off your body and dwell with Him.
Death is the light in the lighthouse.
Choose that light
Choose darkness.
Oct 10, 2014
Oct 10, 2014 at 2:17 PM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
songs of freedom in Kenya are paradoxical of themselves
they have become the songs of oppressive tyranny
they are not songs that were sang by freedom fighters
in the tropical forests of aberdares and Mabanga
they are blissful carols of powers that be
mouthed by the state poets in the deadly feats
of political sycophancy fuelled by cult of betrayal
and espionage, a real substructure of state dictatorship
they are not the true songs of mau mau
that were sang by Kimathi wa miciuri
they are the songs of the top crust of the tribal
and political powers that be in oblivion of
the cultural revolutionaries that countermanded
cultural Darwinism of European imperial gamesters
they are not the songs sang by Elijah Masinde
of Dini Msambwa that spirited up cultural aura
of cultural dignity;which cautioned certainly
an African against the cultural call of the white culturalizer
the African to balk and turn his back
and **** and spit scornfully at cultural trickster in the colonial ploy
to dance for Dini ya Msambwa in the spirit of war and fires of war
that is to be fought in preservation of democracy and cultural freedom.
Jan 30, 2014
Jan 30, 2014 at 7:19 AM UTC
Alexander K Opicho
(Eldoret, Kenya;[email protected])
But I remain a believer in my ancestral religion
Whose God is wele but not the Germany world, it is a religion,
Like most of universal ancestral ones,
With appalling moral threshold,
When Elijah Masinde of dini ya Misambwa
Despised those who condemned man as notoriously religious
He meant human religious approach to life is absolute in nature
However diverse religions compete for human ears
Rich ones glorified in the luring away of modal ears
But all are devoid of spiritual impetus
Disappointing the progenitors of religious imperialism
These short-cutters in matters of sanctimony
Will not come to our heaven
They will get me sharing a cup of tea
With my sister- in-law; Mary, the mother of Jesus
And I will shun them, I will not know them
I will not invite them to a heavenly cup of tea
They will be suffocated by cadaverous appetite,
For we honor our religion with ancestral regard;
The Faith of Our Ancestors
But in ridicule they call us kaffirs, pagans, christo-pagans,
Animists, atheists, gentiles, non-believers, mediumists,
Rebellious rebels or whatsoever they call us;
The anti-muhamedan-mis-christologists,
Let them delude themselves,
If they disparage us with sick contumely
Abreast the dumbfounding development in sciences
Plus so fortuitous humanistic awareness,
Humanity in Religion has to adjust optimally
Religious masters have to help
Interpret the religious Books, bible, gita, quran
All Written or verbalistically in the glory of epical orality
In tandem with the best centered
Life extant,
Otherwise selfish religions becomes an old wine bag
With its old and stale wine,
You will persuade Russian carousers to drink
But to your chagrin, none will condone, your stale wine
Do not seek to sell your faith
Because every human community
Has an ancestral faith
Respect them all for that is gods in their accolade of
Omonipresecence,
Any man or woman without religion is dangerous
But do not advantagize yourselves
At the expense of people of other faiths
It is good you reciprocated
Planet earth is our only sure and known abode
If we lived well here, and there is another world
For those who will be good, we hope the conclave of Gods
Would all sit in judgment for their credit
And reward those who helped humble humanity
Of their religions as well as those of other religions
As for all the Gods love humanists.
Dec 17, 2013
Dec 17, 2013 at 10:17 AM UTC
Much have been said
About my brother
Flame
How from his hands
Borne both
Creation
And destruction
Songs were sung
About trivial flickers
And infernos legendary
Allow me to say
My piece about
My brother flame
Flame
Words seems lifeless
Next to your colored streaks
Hearths spark
Red
Candles shine
Yellow
Blue
Is the burn from my oven
Life is borne
From your touch
Embers glow at your grasp
Metal refined from your speech
The world itself
Is teeming in life
For the sun
Looks down upon it
In its heart
You
My brother flame
Burn brightest
Fire
Is the element of change
You burn from the tears
Of the oppressed
You blaze from the verses
Of the revolutionary
Artists, lovers, and dreamers
Their eyes burn
With passion
Your disposition
My brother has never been cold
My Sister Wind
You warm her
With your embrace
Shed her chains and give her wings
That she may fly
Full of grace
Brother flame
You are a legend
May bards sing forever
Your songs
How you cradled the Phoenix
In its death
And herald its birth
From the same ashes it came from
How you fled with Prometheus
From Olympus
And sparked the dreams of men
You are a perfect instrument
Of God’s glory and renown
After heaven denied Earth
Rain
Elijah’s offer you consumed
On Horeb
Moses
Have seen you burning
A lonely bush
You’ve shown this lonely shepherd
He was standing on Holy Ground
And on God’s plan
Much have been said
About my brother flame
My piece reveals
Of those I am certain
These three
Life
Passion
Renown
12:27:08.03:23
Apr 29, 2014
Apr 29, 2014 at 1:06 PM UTC
from a dream
...My student's name is Ari
and he's dying...
“No serious talk today!” he warns
He wants to laugh –
and so we do
He wants the Patriarchs and Prophets
on this tropical island
He names them doing something funny
and I pick up where he leaves off--
with the second line:
“Elijah, with his ravens on a blow-up raft...”
“...Ascends with ham sandwich, sipping wine!”
“Jeremiah throwing mud *****
“...at Zedekiah's white garage!”
We rewrite the Old Testament
laughing till we cry
“Now that's what I'm talkin' about!”
He's pumped
and kicks that rebel trashcan 'cross the room
...and suddenly shouts out--
“For everything there is a season...!”
I do not finish this one....
“I'll tell Solomon you said Hi”
________________
...and in that moment half aware...
_________________
I'm wearing a grass skirt
in someone else's dream
I'm on Instagram
and I don't know how I got there
I have coconut halves for my ****
but for the life of me –
can't figure
how to keep them on
So I let them sway with my grasses
to the languid freedom of marimba music
toes clutching warmth of sand
No one here to see
but Instagram?
Nagging in the background:
How did I ever get here?
Dreaming like this... right?
Dec 27, 2017
Dec 27, 2017 at 5:04 PM UTC
High on Cateye and Ghost Sight,
I stumbled through the streets
of Salida del Sol beneath
the watchful eye of Father Elijah.
The roulette spinner cobblestones
clicked as my feet dragged
past the courtyard.
Like an effigy, the homemade martini
between my fingers burned
my gin-soaked lungs.
Sweat and vermouth settled
in the circuits of my collar
as I gasped for relief.
Hologram gamblers tossed golden
casino chips in dried fountains
as they strolled past me and through
the Sierra Madre's gates.
Jun 15, 2014
Jun 15, 2014 at 10:03 PM UTC
Dear Mum,
I fell in love with an angel,
Although these feelings run deep but I can't tell.
Nothing hurts like loving from afar,
Because she doesn't love me the way I love her.
Her deep seated issues made her weak.
With the blush of innocence on her cheek.
At different intervals I would stare at her for long,
She was the beautiful theme of my song.
Nothing gave her tranquility like a blade and a cigar.
Her face like a Hollywood movie star.
But her arms were a gallery of secret scars.
Loving wholeheartedly was her undoing.
An imperfect being - A human so broken.
And the final nail in her coffin,
Was seeing her lover's lifeless body in the morning.
The words "Live Forever, Fly Away!" scribbled with
his blood on the mirror next to his arm.
A bottle of ***** on the sink, empty bottles of xanax
and a blade in his right palm.
Trapping herself in a room with no door.
Suffering from a kind of depression with no cure.
She gave up on everything.
Had nothing left, but emptiness within.
She got on a ledge and tried to return home; to the sky.
She ruffled her arms once more, as if she could fly.
She fell.
Tear drops bounced off the skies and washed her blood away.
I didn't weep for the moments we never had. I shed a tear
for each word I never got a chance to say.
Three tear drops ran down my cheek, lubricating my lips.
- "I love you".
After midnight; under the cloak of darkness, watching the stars dance.
I solemnly whispered to the heavens seeking guidance.
I say a quick prayer begging God for repentance.
Taking a deep breath, I exhale slowly.
Waiting for a miracle, a sign, an epiphany.
Just anything to stop me.
I found Dad's old revolver under his bed.
Please forgive me as I place it against my head.
I hope in this life you will someday understand,
The reason I'm pulling this trigger is to hold my angel's hand.
Yours Forever,
Elijah
Jul 1, 2015
Jul 1, 2015 at 3:07 AM UTC
Im a sheep!
Im a sheep, and my,
shepherd loves me, i mean
he fought the wolf for me,
he washes my wool, and takes
care of me.
-Elijah Rose ©
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 11:59 PM UTC
Do you see the red rose?
Surrounded by trees and rivers,
Its beauty as a city on a hill,
The sun has given it, its light.
-Elijah Rose ©
Feb 24, 2017
Feb 24, 2017 at 12:21 AM UTC
1254
Elijah’s Wagon knew no thill
Was innocent of Wheel
Elijah’s horses as unique
As was his vehicle—
Elijah’s journey to portray
Expire with him the skill
Who justified Elijah
In feats inscrutable—
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When Hagar found the bottle spent
And wept o'er Ishmael,
A message from the Lord was sent
To guide her to a well.
Should not Elijah's cake and cruse
Convince us at this day,
A gracious God will not refuse
Provisions by the way?
His saints and servants shall be fed,
The promise is secure;
"Bread shall be given them," as He said,
"Their water shall be sure."
Repasts far richer they shall prove,
Than all earth's dainties are;
'Tis sweet to taste a Saviour's love,
Though in the meanest fare.
To Jesus then your trouble bring,
Nor murmur at your lot;
While you are poor and He is King,
You shall not be forgot.
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Baal was a phony god that was worshipped by many, including King Ahab and Jezebel.
Jehovah put it upon Elijah to prove to the people that he was the true God of Israel.
Satan created Baal to turn people away from Jehovah God.
It took Elijah to prove to the people that Baal was a fraud.
Elijah knew that he could show the people the truth and make Baal falter.
He told them to slaughter a bull and use it for a sacrifice on an altar.
Elijah told them that Baal would be the true God if he could burn the bull but no fire came.
But then Jehovah God sent down fire and burned the sacrifice and that put Baal to shame.
Even though Elijah had the wood and bull covered with water, both still burned.
The people saw that Jehovah is the true God, that was the lesson that they learned.
King Ahab and Queen Jezebel promoted Baal worship and it was something they came to regret.
Both of them ended up dead and God was pleased with Elijah who was the boldest of his prophets.
Mar 11, 2016
Mar 11, 2016 at 5:28 PM UTC
We don’t know whether every angel carries out the same tasks, or whether some of them specialize in certain areas. The Bible does speak about classes of angelic beings like cherubim (Ezekiel 1) and seraphim (Isaiah 6). We also know the names of two notable angels: Michael (Daniel 10:13; Jude 9) and Gabriel (Daniel 9:21; Luke 1:19,26).
The unnamed angels who appear most often in Scripture carry out a variety of tasks - all designed to serve God…
Worship and praise - This is the main activity portrayed in heaven (Isaiah 6:1-3; Revelation 4-5).
Messengers - They serve as messengers to communicate God’s will to men. They helped reveal the law to Moses (Acts 7:52-53), and served as the carriers of much of the material in Daniel, and Revelation.
Guiding - Angels gave instructions to Joseph about the birth of Jesus (Matthew 1-2), to the women at the tomb, to Philip (Acts 8:26), and to Cornelius (Acts 10:1-8).
Providing - God has used angels to provide physical needs such as food for Hagar (Genesis 21:17-20), Elijah (1 Kings 19:6), and Christ after His temptation (Matthew 4:11).
Protecting - Keeping God’s people out of physical danger, as in the cases of Daniel and the lions, and his three friends in the fiery furnace (Daniel 3 and 6).
Delivering - Getting God’s people out of danger once they’re in it. Angels released the apostles from prison in Acts 5, and repeated the process for Peter in Acts 12.
Strengthening and encouraging - Angels strengthened Jesus after His temptation (Matt 4:11), encouraged the apostles to keep preaching after releasing them from prison (Acts 5:19-20), and told Paul that everyone on his ship would survive the impending shipwreck (Acts 27:23-25).
Answering prayer - God often uses angels as His means of answering the prayers of His people (Daniel 9:20-24; 10:10-12; Acts 12:1-17).
Caring for believers at the moment of death. In the story of Lazarus and the rich man, we read that angels carried the spirit of Lazarus to “Abraham’s ***** when he died (Luke 16:22).
Executioners - Angels are sometimes used by God to punish sin. An angel of the Lord went forth and smote an Assyrian camp (2 Kings 19:20-34) “behold, they were all dead corpses.” The Assyrian army was annihilated. A destroying angel was sent, but later withheld, to punish David for his vanity in taking a census of the great number of his people. At the time of Moses and the Exodus, the Egyptian firstborn where killed by an angel of death.
May 20, 2015
May 20, 2015 at 12:40 AM UTC
His master taken from his head,
Elisha saw him go;
And in desponding accents said,
"Ah, what must Israel do?"
But he forgot the Lord who lifts
The beggar to the throne;
Nor knew that all Elijah's gifts
Would soon be made his own.
What! when a Paul has run his course,
Or when Apollos dies,
Is Israel left without resource,
And have we no supplies?
Yes, while the dear Redeemer lives,
We have a boundless store,
And shall be fed with what He gives,
Who lives for evermore.
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Thank you, Lord, another chance to praise.
Thank you, God, Look at me, this is how I praise.
Yes, I am the heaven type, and here is my dance for my Lord.
Yes, I look upon the sky and smile for my creator and my God.
Thank, Lord, hold on and look at my woofer heart while I praise.
Thank, guitar man, hold on, and touch your heart and praise.
What a praise from the bottommost of my heart, come on guitar man.
What a day of praise, let me tell you, my lord, hold on guitar man.
God of David and God of Elijah, I love you!
God of mercy and God of love, I know you adore me too.
Guitar man, come on, lets praise like this praise-praise.
Yes, praise-praise, thank you lord of mercy-mercy!
Yes Lord, keeps me on your lane as I praise (What a Day).
Hello Devil, are you ashamed, what praise indeed what a day!
Written By: The Senior Date: undefined
Sep 23, 2020
Sep 23, 2020 at 1:27 AM UTC
Ancient Christian hardliners, probably Gnostic in origin,
held that the fruit Eve gave Adam was ***** & that God
had created Adam homosexual, but he ****** up by not
creating another guy; God made three mistakes in a row;
which he expected to correct by sending his horndog son,
born to a single mother who made good by marrying Joe,
a successful carpenter, & when the boy was given the first
good bath he'd had in years by his cousin John, he was thirty;
people started following him around, especially women &
some of his cousin's friends; the women all had issues; the
boy constantly distracted by voices; some people mistook
him for John, already a well known heart throb & nemesis
of the Patriarch Herod, others said he was Elijah, legendary
prophet & super hero, but the boy was just a poet who went
around ******* people off w/ his damning allegories, drank
wine, hung out w/ shady people, slept w/ prostitutes, kept a
gang of burly knife-wielding fishermen around & raised the dead
Sep 1, 2018
Sep 1, 2018 at 9:37 PM UTC
God came one day to Abraham
Saying Abe my son I have this plan
See all these stars up in the sky
To your kin folk I will give life
So Abraham being a righteous man
Had two sons all in Gods plan
But being old he and his wife couldn't wait
So he laid with a female slave
Miracles from above
Ishmael and Isaac grew up
But a test came for his love
God had asked for his trust
Hagar was left behind
As father and son travelled the dessert
Where he had been called to testify
How he could pioneer and turn to right
Bring civilisation to God's light
Now we all know the test was passed
Or we wouldn't be here today
Speaking of the saviours who brought us to God's way
From Abraham came his sons
The messengers forever honoured
In Christianity, Judaism and Islam
Jacob, Moses, Elijah and Jonah
Zechariyah, John, Soloman and Noah
From them came Jesus and Mohammed
So we say peace be upon them all
And peace be upon this world
United we stand
For our ancestors were one
From the same blood we began
For the same Lord we bow...
Jun 13, 2014
Jun 13, 2014 at 12:17 PM UTC
IV. Isaiah
If ever on the moors in seeking
Zarephath she faltered—
White of gossamer and lamb—
And the well in running over
Colored bloodred clay
Lapis Lazuli, sweetened to dewpoint
As for what it meant
To those that saw and waited
Prophets and disciples of an
Instant; bear witness to the
World reborn (not premeditated)
At muddy dawn in unloved scrubland plots
Subsequent to love running sacred between
The pages of an unloved tome, a fissure
What is a truth?
Could I reach out
And touch you?
What holds your heart, Elijah?
Who can you see beneath the glass
Who stares back from the bottom of a raindrop
Flashing past before convening
With the ground?
Did you know, my dear,
I stem from the disillusionment of ground
And the resurrecting of fraught winter
Sky?
Did you know,
I am alive and dying to go, now,
To arise from Pelas and walk free in sun again?
I want to love the rain
So that it knows
I want to lavish love upon your
Lips, your hands,
Your neck that holds
Your temples, the gaps between
Your ribs, and vertebrae, and 50 billion stars
Dec 28, 2018
Dec 28, 2018 at 1:01 AM UTC
the blatant frustrations of live feed editing.
enter the tablet, joystick free, one touch games,
quiet interesting that it’s so hard
to get a gaming addiction with such games
as candy crush soda, family farm,
bubble witch 2...
you will not see an adrenaline tornado on these
platitudes, no movie like involvement,
no plot... just time contraints, money constraints,
the adequate reflection of life: hey mort! when you coming?
hey forthnight debility cheque! when you coming?
(i too thought tetris originated in japan,
but it was actually of soviet design!
so in conclusion: games designed to be as reflected
by someone doing a crossword - i'm crap at
those, being bilingual is obstructive -
i'm in constant translation mode looking
for picturesque synonymity - or doing sūdoku -
which i'm not too bad at.)
a bit like that jesus debacle, so gott insisted on giving
proof of his existence to a baby... bad move...
the kid grew up in a bubble and thought he could do anything...
elijah just said to the priests: but if your god doesn’t exist,
what’s the point of having you? later he repented
on mt. sinai where god was but a whisper...
like the whisper of the dream of what rome was at first:
a republic. i believe in republicanism, i don’t believe
in that shamble that’s known as democracy, and is currently
the biggest export from america... exported to usurp
other nation’s republicanism - the elders of afghanistan
will never be modern family mr. jason wordsmith and
mr. jack wordsmith, raising an adopted / surrogate mother’s
kid... not in a million years... nor will revised buddhism
in western europe ever be original shinto of japan...
not in a million years... we’re not a monochromatic people.
back to jesus: there’s not one shred of christianity in
jurisprudence (philosophy of law /
etymology: prudence of having a jury) - but when you’re faced
with an enemy who’s a lawyer, and has connections...
and you’re a poor idiot who was forced into a paranoid schizophrenia
simulation for 7 years... you don’t set out to attack
and get compensation like that woman schopenhauer pushed
down the stairs... you set out to prove god -
and subsequently leave the ******* in his own waiting
line for karma - i hardly think there will be an oliver twit
in him to ask for some more.
Dec 6, 2015
Dec 6, 2015 at 2:20 PM UTC
We watched three DVDs of Elvis
on the Ed Sullivan show,
Just to find you waving in the crowd
for a quarter of a second
It was brief
But to see you so young
And gentle and light
Was worth the hours
Of black & white tv
And jokes that are no longer funny
The first night I met you
You asked me if I was a writer
And I asked how you knew
You said it takes one to know one
I read your poetry for three hours
In Indian style on your living room floor
While you ate crackers from a ziplock bag
And talked about the love of your life
And the way his chest felt
The first time you used it as a pillow
You told me not to cry
When Elijah dumped me
You said pain is everywhere,
I'll miss out on life
If I let it consume me
I turned to leave your room
On a random Sunday last December,
It was cold and wet and dark,
And I was tired,
You grabbed my hand
And stopped me in my tracks
You said "learn to relax"
And then you held me still
Until you saw the anxiety
melt out of my eyes
I asked you why you
Bother to keep the car
Even though you know
You'll never drive it
You asked me why
I bother to love the sick
Even though I know
They're dying
You told me "don't close the blinds,
The world is beautiful"
Last time I came to say goodnight
You kept making plans,
Where you'd go after you left here
Even though "here" was certainly
The last place you'd be
I never understood
Why you kept pretending;
Pretending there was more
I get it now, Peggy
I know
Nov 3, 2016
Nov 3, 2016 at 11:38 PM UTC
For Elijah
Who saw me as just another teenage girl
Whom he thought he could fix
After he unknowingly broke me
For Luke
Who was always too sweet to me
And didn't tell me until a year and a half later
That he only saw me as a sister
For Eric 1
Who shared his music with me
And started dating M
Before I could tell him
For Rusty
Who stabbed me in the back
With help from F
When neither of them were aware that they were holding knives
For Eric 2
Who reminded me of Rusty
And maybe that's the only reason
But who respected me without hesitation
For Cam
Who has a reputation of being nice
Who is problematic at times
And can't seem to leave my head
Apr 26, 2015
Apr 26, 2015 at 3:12 PM UTC
You were just a line
A line so faint I couldn't believe it
But then you became two lines
Three lines
Four lines.
Scattered out on my bathroom floor.
Its amazing, what lines can do
To a twenty year old girl.
I couldn't even say the words out loud.
But its been 9 months since those lines
And you're not here.
And all the thoughts I wouldn't let myself think
They're all too real.
Perhaps your name was Audrey
And you had your daddy's curls
Maybe you would've had your mommy's nose
Perhaps your name was Elijah
And you had your mommy's eyes
Maybe you would've had your daddy's smile
Or maybe I would've never known you
And you'd never know my name
I'd dream about you every night
As you lay far away.
I wasn't ready
For those little lines
Nor was your daddy
He cried.
I remember how I shook
The night you went away
The crying and the aching
I wanted you to stay.
I'll never hold your hand
You'll never ask to play
And I will never know
What it is like to hear your voice
But I am healing
I think less of your loss
Than I do my inability to care
You deserved better than I had.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 1:13 AM UTC
dark lung coughs
up all the reasons he should cease
going on with the charade of normality
its mental noodling fools few
and only confirms for everyone
that his nervous smile
contains more than just dark thoughts
he waits the morning out and with a
greasy eye watches clean woman smile
her full figure form fit lie
suits her fly by night nature
but to him she is the perfection
of absolute imperfections
she is practiced in thouse airs
shes follows Hollywood's nightmare's
and how they have become so accessible and acceptable
the movie starlet high on coke shoplifts
so the faithful flock in tears to the courthouse gate
and weep for their martyr princess
dark lung and his near perfect
knockoff Gucci bag girlfriend
are shopping tonight online
with backwards glances they will go on
survive this day
and look back on this summer with rose color glasses
giving casual nods to to
the ease in which they survived
the struggle
the are expecting a baby
dark lung and near perfect
are expecting a baby
gonna name him Elijah
Sep 18, 2013
Sep 18, 2013 at 6:10 AM UTC
Some gamblers rented and cyclists' cyclists are not Maria,
Maria, Maria, and the massive student body of Cyclists,
Other Associated Deacons Trainer Trainer Sensors;
I'm looking forward to food
and feeling a sense of when to read the robot's book from page 1 -
the top place at this hall meeting Sunday
at the National Council of Judicial Religion -
a classic user education free of cognac
in my head, gloves white eyeglasses.
Radio station to take care of a cigarette freedom
with a rich wealthy publisher of fan fiction,
Maria, put her in bed. According to John the strippers
are awaiting food and dance, dance,
Moses and Elijah using Revolution has changed
and now two new trees grow out of the shadows
recollection of the problems of reducing
the nightclubbing of the bride, What John said of the Trinity Wave,
that waves swells in winter weather.
The various aspects of life in school
for the dance dance to find a good ending
and highlight your work in the sand
are free free of non-oh-fluctuous roads to heaven in jail,
rays of fire from the sky on the ceiling,
all the bed dwellers sitting on the rungs of a ladder
1 as high as the sun. John was pushed
by the knowledge onto the role of shades
robot strippers get Wall Street Law,
Mary's strippers are on the hill for the rich.
According to John Rose, it's not enough Memory
Technology 1, Paul's first Belgian wave radio,
high wave in parts; Puppetry for life
in the fight, the clinic entered into a long bone
and cigarette between the springs of water; RSS
and the mass of members who have been trained
to offer the Strippers Cyclists another translation,
radio station freedom to take care of smoking
in the wealthy rumors of journalist story,
Maria naked in her bed. The various types of schools
have a very good dance program, and highlighting
the work with the sand can be free
and non-oh-fluctuous way from the sky in the radio
station on fire from the roof on the dog is all at Sleep 1,
Sleeps in the sun as long as you see it.
John's required knowledge came into the robot hands of the strippers
knowing that Wall Street's Gestalt is part of Maria's hill strippers
for the rich. According to John Rose, it's not enough memory,
technology 1, the first Belgian wave radio's
high wave reaches parts of St. Paul;
There is no war entered into by smoking,
and the rays within Puppetry are the Waters of Life.
Oct 10, 2018
Oct 10, 2018 at 11:57 PM UTC