"enabled" poems
The joyful heart is the buoyant heart—
empowered to rise above its circumstances,
unweighted, unburdened, unbound,
tied only to that which would lift it higher,
untethered from anything which would
pull it down, pull it under or suffocate it.
It's the free heart, quiet and at rest
yet jubilant and uncontained,
the celebrating heart, the praising heart,
the thankful heart, the heart set on pilgrimage,
bent on adventure, journey and romance.
All the while it's a waiting heart
because it's a yielded, led heart—
a heart which doesn't run ahead of the LORD
but willingly, quickly to the LORD—
a heart that though eagerly anticipating each
twisting turn, next horizon and changing path
keeps its eyes fixed not on the scenery
but forever on the Shepherd
because it's a heart persuaded
that He alone is the Great Reward
for which it has always been looking.
True joy is only ours when we find an endless
source of satisfaction, and of these I know only One!
The secret to all joy is to crave Him above all else.
The joyful heart is the one addicted fully to Him,
desperate for Him to the expense of all else,
willing to sacrifice everything to have that craving satisfied.
Joy and idols, I have learned,
do not easily reside together in the same heart.
So if I find that joy is chased away
the most likely culprits are my own desires.
What am I wanting more than Jesus?
For if intimacy with Him is the supreme goal of my life
then nothing can arise which I'm not enabled to bear with joy.
There is, I suppose, nothing so reliable as suffering and loss
to expose all of the hidden idols within me.
It's surely those who have suffered the greatest
and most frequent losses for Christ who are also
most capable of knowing the deepest and most abiding joy.
For it's when we've been stripped bare of everything else
that we begin to know for certain that our joy is based
not on the temporary blessings of our circumstances
but only on the presence of the Eternal Blesser Himself.
Sometimes He offers to us all that is in His right hand,
but for any with eyes truly opened to see
the most precious of times may be those
when He offers to us only the intimacy of His right hand.
Rivers of sadness can open up
into wide gulfs of endless delight and
are often the very courses needed to carry us there.
When all is lost, we find to our amazement
that, even so, we still have ALL
and no one can rob us of it.
When He takes everything from us
He proves Himself to be EVERYTHING to us.
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 4:11 PM UTC
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer
was leading a lonely life working nights
at the fukfoorfiffenfimmer factory
where he was in charge of loading crates
full of fukfoorfiffenfimmers, onto cargo cars destined for the city of Cincinnati.
There was such a huge demand for fukfoorfiffenfimmers in the city of Cincinnati,
poor Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer worked his hunnyhush to the bone.
On one of his few holiday weekends,
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer went to a hair salon for a trim.
Here he was attended by a hairdresser named, Henrietta Huckhellopolis.
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer instantly fell for the husky-voiced hairdresser.
Gaining enough gumption and gallasisgoppingguff needed to bypass beating around the bush of courteous courtship,
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer asked Henrietta Huckhellopolis if she wanted to leerlumpaloomp later that evening.
"I would love to leerlumpaloomp later this evening," she replied, batting her long lashes lustily.
And how those two leerlumpaloomped!
They leerlumpaloomped long through the night.
They leerlumpaloomped so loudly,
the neighbours ended up sticking stuffystoils
into their sensilivities, in hopes of drowning out the noise.
Nine months later,
the lovers were blessed with a litter of lullaloonillies—wot with the loud leerlumpaloomping and all.
But, of the seven lullaloonillies, four of them had two lumpalots instead of one.
Bolstering himself against drowning in despair at the prospect of having sired freak lullaloonillies,
Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer helped design fukfoorfiffenfimmers especially meant for lullaloonillies who have two lumpalots instead of one.
As the double-lumpalot fukfoorfiffenfimmers
were Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer's idea, the owner of the fukfoorfiffenfimmer factory gave Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer
a forty percent cut of the royalties.
*Fortunately some fairy tales come with a happy ending, because the city of Cincinnati was hit with a record number of lullaloonillies
born with two lumpalots instead of just the one.
The high sales of double-lumpalot fukfoorfiffenfimmers,
enabled Harry Heironymous Huffenhoffer and Henrietta Huckhellopolis
to quit their jobs and buy into the fukfoorfiffenfimmer factory.
Yes, after getting married,
Harry Heironymous and Henrietta Huckhellopolis-Huffenhoffer
lived happily hever hafter.
So did the lullaloonillies....
including those with two lumpalots instead of one.*
Sep 6, 2011
Sep 6, 2011 at 1:16 PM UTC
Rest in this, my bruised and weary soul:
I was a wretch, chosen to be a beauty;
a slave, chosen to be a bride;
an orphan, chosen to be an heir;
an enemy, chosen to be a friend.
I deserved nothing but wrath and death
yet received everything of life and grace.
I am loved beyond any dreaming of it
and blessed above all worldly wealth.
I have the incomparable birthright of those
whose Father is God and whose Lord is Jesus Christ—
righteousness from Him and peace with Him.
I am a cherished gift from the Father to the Son.
I was paid for by the Son’s own blood
and am "engraved on the palms of His hands."
I am the living temple of God’s Holy Spirit
Who empowers me to do His pleasure and bring Him glory.
I am the LORD's, chosen and set apart for His delight.
***What more could I ask?
But that's only the beginning...***
I will live as blessed as I believe myself to already be,
for "I have been blessed in the heavenly realms
with every spiritual blessing in Christ,"
"given everything I need for life and godliness"
through knowing Him and His precious promises,
"an inheritance that can never perish, spoil or fade—
kept [securely and eternally] in heaven" for me.
I've been "raised up and seated with Christ";
my "life is hidden with Him" in the Father,
and "He will fill me with joy in His presence,
with eternal pleasures at His right hand."
Oh, that "the eyes of my heart would be enlightened
with the spirit of wisdom and revelation"
to see what’s already been prepared and given to me
and to know much more fully the One Who has
so meticulously prepared and lavishly given it.
As I walk intimately with Him and rest confidently in Him
(based only on His merits, never my own),
I am given free access to my account
in His heavenly storehouse and enabled to appropriate
its glorious riches to every circumstance of my life,
even the most searingly painful and confoundingly difficult ones.
I have a spiritual Fort Knox available to me
through knowing Christ Jesus my Lord,
but He Himself is my greatest treasure.
Without Him, nothing else matters.
Nothing else has meaning if I am not found in Him,
clinging to Him and carried by Him.
When I finally become desperate for Him alone,
I begin to understand the profound reality
of all He desires for me and offers to me
in my spiritual inheritance in Him.
There are infinite presents to be unwrapped
in His presence which cannot be told
in human words or comprehended by mortal minds,
but they wait to be taken hold of by
any and all who would take hold of Him.
***For He gives and gives and gives and gives,
and even when He takes, He gives.***#
Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 3:22 AM UTC
Nothing is really mine except Krishna.
O my parents, I have searched the world
And found nothing worthy of love.
Hence I am a stranger amidst my kinfolk
And an exile from their company,
Since I seek the companionship of holy men;
There alone do I feel happy,
In the world I only weep.
I planted the creeper of love
And silently watered it with my tears;
Now it has grown and overspread my dwelling.
You offered me a cup of poison
Which I drank with joy.
Mira is absorbed in contemplation of Krishna,
She is with God and all is well!
*
O my King, my father, nothing delights me more
Than singing the praises of Krishna.
If thou art wrath,
then keep thy kingdom and thy palace,
For if God is angry, where can I dwell?
Thou didst send me a cup of poison and a black cobra,
Yet in all I saw only Krishna!
Mira is drunk with love, and is wedded to the Lord!
*
The heart of Mira is entangled
In the beauty of the feet of her Guru;
Nothing else causes her delight!
He enabled her to be happy in the drama of the world;
The Knowledge he gave her dried up
The ocean of being and becoming.
Mira says: My whole world is Shri Krishna;
Now that my gaze is turned inward, I see it clearly
14k
*The chill in the frigid night air
casts tremors of lingering shadows
upon an ancient windowsill
where a liquescent candle’s glow dims.
Peering into shattered mirrors’
silver hued jagged edges
that no longer reflect counterfeit images
a nascent paradigm unfurls in the wind.
Terrifying diminutive steps are taken
in directions au courant
enabled by years of refinement
in torrid near incessant fires.
An excrescence of wisdom
has broken the weathered mold
allowing a senescent wisdom
to shimmer a phosphorescent glow.
The venerable map leading
to this transcendent destination
is not read but perceived
through intuition’s faint whisperings.
©2015 janetaylor
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 5:50 PM UTC
Not an enigmatic smile
Like the constipated, condescending smirk
Adorning, and inexplicably adored, on the Mona Lisa's smug face;
But a smile to justify God's existence;
A smile that, when dazzlingly bestowed
Upon one fortunate soul, caught rabbit-like in its
Wondrous radiance, infinitesimally, and cumulatively,
Increases the World's joy. Where every living thing -
Whatever exists on the planet, imperceptibly hums
To a new, more celestial pitch -
An effervescent vibration celebrating Life's mysteries:
A reason for existence.
It's a smile to make an Alchemist cry -
Turning a leaden heart to gold in an instant.
It's a smile to make a mediocre poet struggle
To articulate an adequate description
Using all the hyperbole, simile and metaphor at his limited disposal.
Inestimably more brilliant, and more valuable,
Than the most flawless diamond ever found -
And, perhaps, just as rare.
Thankfully, a renewable resource,
Enabled to enlighten and heat
The recesses of any beneficiary's
Heart and invigorate their soul.
Helen may have caused a thousand ships to sail,
Destroying a nation as a consequence;
And Cleopatra nearly caused the collapse of an Empire;
But Tao's smile, unleashed in all its glory
Could melt the Antarctic ice-sheet -
Drowning us all in its magnificence.
Mayan's have a myth that states such a smile
Only comes around once every twelve thousand years,
In the Great Galactic turning.
Einstein's General Theory of Relativity
Is often mistakenly considered to concern gravity,
But is, in fact, concerned with one's relative position
To Tao's smile - an inescapable vortex of pleasure.
No music conceived of the fabled Celestial Spheres
Compares to the silent, ethereal harmonies tattooing my heart
Whenever, beacon-like, that smile flashes fleetingly in my direction.
And Heisenberg's Uncertainty Principle has not a Quantum core,
But revolves around the statistical uncertainty of being blessed
With the ephemeral thrill of a benign grim.
Mar 6, 2014
Mar 6, 2014 at 9:49 AM UTC
Irreversible mistakes, I just want to die
Irreversible words in which are full of lies
Get a gun a knife or two or any kind or rope it would do
sleeping pills, pain killer overdose which ends up with death
Wishing some words were enabled to be reset
Aug 14, 2014
Aug 14, 2014 at 8:31 AM UTC
Death I see, that ugly spectre,
Coarsely overshadows youth.
Lame, they look for interaction
With the bondman. Shame, forsooth!
Drowning in the dams of liars
When they could be shining lights!
They believe what e’er is told them,
****** in by the TV sights.
Culture told them there’s no future,
There’s no healing for despair.
Bet they never read the Bible –
Words of LIFE spelt loud and clear.
There’s no need for this attrition
Of our children. Give them truth.
Let them listen to the old ones –
Hard they learned the facts of life.
By the power of scripture they have
Overcome the skull and bones.
Into joy and peace they’re marching.
Youth could follow in those zones.
Up to them to stop and listen.
Perhaps the media got it wrong.
Find a person in their nineties,
Who survived the wars and so on.
They are old because their attitude
Enabled them to plunge right in,
Boots and all in right perspective,
Shake and move, the truth to win.
They’ve believed in right and beauty,
Principles and sacrifice.
Not for them the great self pity
Serving death – man-trap device.
Rather they’ve bent over backwards
To embrace another’s need,
And serving, felt the great dynamic
LIFE FORCE. Yes. They were a breed!
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 9:48 PM UTC
Peoples’ lives are dying in consistency;
Greed in their pedestal has corrupted this world’s societies.
A fruitful opportunity, a gold rush was encountered!
Underlying the main ambition of many unfortunate ambitious desires.
Persistently seeking an object of materiality,
Children have become contracted to labor endlessly till mortality.
The corporate pose has overshadowed humanity,
Predetermining existence through living in a vision of obscurity.
Freedom has evolved in many attaining their dreams,
Yet, failing to realize their limits in overstepping boundaries.
Morality has been compromised to new opportunities.
Ultimately, corrupting one’s essence in living spiritually.
We have eluded to perceive the subtle communication they have established you see.
Projecting honesty while planting a seed, they enrich themselves invulnerably.
Enabled through the loophole of ignorance attracted by social mediocrity,
Revealing a battle between each other secretly disguised as insecurity.
Asking how do I seek success, freedom, and happiness endlessly.
Indubitably, the answer relies inside, secreting awareness internally.
Discovering that the war begins within may end the violence indeed.
Extinguishing eternal destruction of the world through peace and harmony.
By: Michael M. De La Fuente
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 7:47 PM UTC
*****
Let's face it,
You're honestly
Pretty Basic.
Don't call this racist,
Cause that's not the case, *****
The Issue's
Not Racial
There's a cultural Basis.
There are
'Basic White Bitches'
Of any Race
you can find
in LA
(which, by the way
Is every single race).
Everyone who's not a basic white *****
can spot a basic white *****
Caucasian or not, it's
based on Identity
not Color or Shade.
You're not an Oasis
of cultural expectations,
and you have no idea
how your Entitlement
is Enabled
but it's okay,
Cuz you see, Babe,
The rest of us still need to
Assimilate into
The Culture that made you.
And as bad as this may
Make you feel, I'll just say
there's a good chance that this
is the only form of 'Hate'
you'll experience
Today.
Oct 13, 2014
Oct 13, 2014 at 1:14 PM UTC
Taffeta watches the pigs atop the tables
Glass eyes and stitches where they're enabled
Guts pumping crimson liquid
Sewing 'em up, she's addicted
Family and friends recommend she withdraw
She responded with a twinkle in her eye and a dropped jaw
Scissors and string, that's all she'll need
Besides a corpse, of course, and a bit of stuffing
Lilac eyes affixed on a tattered pillow
Enjoying watching a weeping Willow
Her poor Porky pet has met his end
But everyone knows you can depend
Before your sweet pet starts to smell
On Taffeta's Taxidermy to stuff 'em well
Apr 17, 2020
Apr 17, 2020 at 4:29 PM UTC
Mirrorball - “the fabrication of our performance”
a life long struggle to accept who I am,
of course, lose, and lose again, and
the fabrication of our performance now
inherent in every excuse and mirrorball
revolving asking, no, laughing, at our
vanity, as we endeavor, enabled by the
paucity of ego, the neediness of weakness’s
to catch, keep, hold each single flickering
light spot in our open, slick palms forever
we fabricate our performance of daily living,
modifying our measurements to match output,
only a human cannot wake only to fall within
each daily tabulation without thinking, once:
*I am a hero, worthy of acknowledgement, just
look at my hands! see how many spots of
light I can claim as mine! the mirrorball turns
and turns paying no mind to the worshipers
below, until some sorrowful fool confesses,
fools fail, fools fail, turning the dervish off,
the white flag of ego darkened, once more...*
we are all false poets, false prophets, occasionally confessing
7:34 AM
Sat Jul 18
The Year of the Virus, Corona
Jul 18, 2020
Jul 18, 2020 at 8:03 AM UTC
Working on car engines and in fish cases
has enabled me to cook
for often
when the process of cooking is a balance between hands and heat
my old fingers
battered and beat up as they've been by the heat of a Pontiac V8 manifold
or five hundred pounds of shaved ice every day for seven years with no gloves
shrug and shake it off
as an old cowboy shakes the dust from his chaps
after being thrown to the dirt by a horse who doesn't realize
how many times the cowboy has been in the dirt before
and gotten up
Aug 11, 2012
Aug 11, 2012 at 7:16 PM UTC
647
A little Road—not made of Man—
Enabled of the Eye—
Accessible to Thill of Bee—
Or Cart of Butterfly—
If Town it have—beyond itself—
’Tis that—I cannot say—
I only know—no Curricle that rumble there
Bear Me—
2.1k
1207
He preached upon “Breadth” till it argued him narrow—
The Broad are too broad to define
And of “Truth” until it proclaimed him a Liar—
The Truth never flaunted a Sign—
Simplicity fled from his counterfeit presence
As Gold the Pyrites would shun—
What confusion would cover the innocent Jesus
To meet so enabled a Man!
2.1k
I look back.
What a magnificent sight!
The colourful journey
of my life.
If I died right now,
I would die in awe
of the story I am in.
Couldn't ask for more.
This whole thing
has been a miracle.
A masterpiece of God,
his artwork so lyrical.
I thank you right now,
for the whole world to see.
It's your breathe of life
that has enabled me
to be me.
Aug 13, 2018
Aug 13, 2018 at 7:18 AM UTC
***Whispering eyes
You tell me no lies
You speak my absence
You know my truth
I'm dying to be inspired
I long to see what you see
I need you immensely
Like education
Teach me your liberty
I want to be enabled like rain
Release me from cloudy skies
Quiet my thundering blue***
*Your tranquil breath
Envelop all of me
Your heavenly touch
Soothes the beats of my heart
I crave for solace
In your wings of warmth
Take me with you
Into the deep serene
Engulf me with
Your duvet of love*
***My lunar eclipse
With shivering lips
What you sung above
Leave me lost for words
I search from within
Just beneath my skin
I discover a gift
A sanctuary of roses
Volcanic in nature
Your presence erupts
A scent of divinity
May you clip these wings
Only here with you
Is where I rather be***
*Let us soar
As the empyreal embosom
Beyond the universe
Outside the realm of
Imagination
Embracing the seclusion
Trunks of our hearts entwined
They beat as one
Without qualms
Exhaling carefree
Contentment
Slowly sipping eternity*
*Justin G
Eudora
Nov 20, 2015
Nov 20, 2015 at 4:46 PM UTC
I wish we were still strangers.
I wish you were still that boy that i kept staring at.
I wish you had never hugged me that first time.
I wish you hadn't held me the next night.
I wish i had never said i liked you.
I wish i would've looked a little closer.
Cause my own hopeless stupidity enabled you to play me like a child.
Aug 20, 2014
Aug 20, 2014 at 12:21 PM UTC
I’ve never been in control of my feelings.
They drop on me like a pile of bricks.
And I am too weak to carry them. They overtake me.
The only thing in the world that is powerful enough to give me respite:
Is a good book.
I become lost in the story, and I can forget my pain.
I am enabled to leave this world and enter a happier one.
But now I read the same few comforting novels over and over.
Because I am terrified of reading ones that I can’t immerse myself in.
Terrified that my one means of escape will prove as pointless and empty as real life.
Oct 17, 2018
Oct 17, 2018 at 2:17 PM UTC
For those among us who lived by the rules,
Lived frugal lives of pubis-scratching desperation;
For those who sustained a zombie-like state for 30 or 40 years,
For these few, our lucky few—
We bequeath an interactive Life-Alert emergency dogtag,
Or a dog, a colossal beast of a pet,
A humongus Harlequin Dane dog to feed,
For that matter, why not buy a few new cars before you die?
Your home mortgage is dead and buried.
We gave you senior-citizen rates for water, gas & electricity—
“The Big 3,” as they are known in certain Gasoline Alley-retro
Neighborhoods among us,
Our parishes.
Our boroughs.
All this and more, had you lived small,
Had you played by the rules for Smurfs & Serfs.
We leave you the chance to treat your grandkids
Like Santa’s A-List clientele,
“Good ‘ol Grampa,” they’ll recollect fondly,
“Sweet Grammy Strunzo,” they will sigh.
What more could you want in retirement?
You’ve enabled another generation of deadbeat grandparents,
And now you’re next in line for the ice floe,
To be taken away while still alive,
Still hunched over and wheezing,
On a midnight sleigh ride,
Your son, pulling the proverbial Eskimo sled,
Down to some random Arctic shore,
Placing you gently on the ice floe.
Your son; your boy--
A true chip off the igloo, so to speak.
Jun 1, 2014
Jun 1, 2014 at 10:22 AM UTC
More economic problems
On the way
As I read in this article today
Here it is
You can read it too
I'm no financial expert
But world economies
Seem *******
Lol
“I think it’s pretty obvious that the top is in,” the Reagan administration’s OMB director said Thursday on CNBC’s “Futures Now.” The S&P; 500 has traded in a historically narrow range for the better part of 2015, having moved just 1 percent higher year to date. “It’s just waiting for the knee-jerk bulls, robo traders and dip buyers to finally capitulate.”
Stockman, whose past claims have yet to come to fruition, still believes that the excessive monetary policy from central banks around the world has created a “debt supernova,” and all the signs point to “the end of the central bank enabled bubble,” which could cause a worldwide recession.
“The larger picture has nothing to do with the jobs report [Friday] or even the September decision by the Fed,” said Stockman. “It has to do with the the fact that the world economy, including the U.S., is heading into what is clearly going to be an epochal deflation to the likes of what we have never experienced in modern time.”
Aug 7, 2015
Aug 7, 2015 at 8:59 PM UTC
We deserve the world we live in.
.
We've worked too hard to destroy it
To stop now.
.
.
We deserve the wars being fought.
.
We've built too high our borders
To tear them down now.
.
.
We deserve injustice and discrimination.
.
We've made too much an effort to build social barriers
To get rid of them now.
.
.
We deserve bad governments.
.
We've enabled them too much and given them too much freedom
To start complaining now.
.
.
We deserve all types of pollution.
.
We've taken nature for granted for too long
To take care of her now.
.
.
We deserve illnesses.
.
We've lived on excess for too long
To start worrying now.
.
.
We deserve the reality we live in.
.
We've been moulding it for generations
To break free from it now.
.
.
We deserve what we have.
.
We've put all our energy on it.
.
.
But who's to say we don't deserve
.
The chance to change as well
.
The opportunity to wake up
.
The drive to find unity
.
The knowledge to see the errors in our ways
.
.
Who's to say we don't deserve.
.
The chance to live.
.
.
Oct 3, 2016
Oct 3, 2016 at 6:09 PM UTC
Internal battles meant to be discounted
And anxieties rumored as dismounted
While nothing could have amounted
To the tales within those mountains
Regarded and enabled as fountains
Of flowing wisdom which hasn’t counted
The melody of life yet to be sounded
A treasure seemed and well-rounded
Apr 22, 2021
Apr 22, 2021 at 3:24 AM UTC
Being so heavenly minded
and of no earthly good
is a dichotomy of attitude to avoid,
as one must and should.
Solutions to Life's problems
become evident with clear thinking,
when grounded on divine principles
for the purpose of practical living.
The Standard has been defined
for all Kingdom residents -
Walk in abundance, be a blessing to others
as shown by Christ's precedent.
By making a positive impact
and demonstrating God's Love,
we're enabled to reach all people
for their inclusion into Heaven above.
Author Note:
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
Oct 18, 2012
Oct 18, 2012 at 6:13 AM UTC