"extravagantly" poems
Who believes what we’ve heard and seen?
Who would have thought God’s saving power would look like this?
The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling,
a scrubby plant in a parched field.
There was nothing attractive about him,
nothing to cause us to take a second look.
He was looked down on and passed over,
a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand.
One look at him and people turned away.
We looked down on him, thought he was ****
But the fact is, it was our pains he carried—
our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us.
We thought he brought it on himself,
that God was punishing him for his own failures.
But it was our sins that did that to him,
that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins!
He took the punishment, and that made us whole.
Through his bruises we get healed.
We’re all like sheep who’ve wandered off and gotten lost.
We’ve all done our own thing, gone our own way.
And God has piled all our sins, everything we’ve done wrong,
on him, on him.
He was beaten, he was tortured,
but he didn’t say a word.
Like a lamb taken to be slaughtered
and like a sheep being sheared,
he took it all in silence.
Justice miscarried, and he was led off—
and did anyone really know what was happening?
He died without a thought for his own welfare,
beaten ****** for the sins of my people.
They buried him with the wicked,
threw him in a grave with a rich man,
Even though he’d never hurt a soul
or said one word that wasn’t true.
Still, it’s what God had in mind all along,
to crush him with pain.
The plan was that he give himself as an offering for sin
so that he’d see life come from it—life, life, and more life.
And God’s plan will deeply prosper through him.
Out of that terrible travail of soul,
he’ll see that it’s worth it and be glad he did it.
Through what he experienced, my righteous one, my servant,
will make many “righteous ones,”
as he himself carries the burden of their sins.
Therefore I’ll reward him extravagantly—
the best of everything, the highest honors—
Because he looked death in the face and didn’t flinch,
because he embraced the company of the lowest.
He took on his own shoulders the sin of the many,
he took up the cause of all the black sheep.
~ Eugene Peterson
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 12:31 PM UTC
Extravagantly exorbitant mentality panacea
Pretentious eidetic’s ubiquity mnemonics
Extraversion embezzlement extortion mens rea
Endergonic laconic cacophony phonics
Preterite rendition enclitic equilibrist motion
Mystic symbiosis dharma spiritual sky
Brusque macabre abjections the gist of the potion
Straight up forever ontology on high
Obdurately abstruse vituperatively vociferous
Juxtaposition apparition myriad avarice
Orotund sonorous diction obliquitous
Multifariously versatile nefarious nemesis
Mirador bartizan phantasmagoria aesthetics
Guidon gyration excursion integration
Sorcerous alchemizing interstitial endemics
Chaos charisma objectified tribulation
Conjurous apothegms clitoral apomixis
Exude emote surrogate extrapolation
Astral projection littoral hypotaxis
Kinetic supremacy homogeneity gravitation
Coercible coalescent cohesion dexterities
Adjunct conjunction conjecture acuity
Platonic pragmatic prosaic austerities
Extemporaneous impromptu innuendo fortuity
Propinquity habitation harbinger spectra
Perplexing paradox tenacity rostra
Intensely cogitational abstract mantra
Penumbral exigency , umbrage per contra
Theoretical incursion grandiloquent ne plus ultra
Exogamy of homoplasy sic itur ad astra
Quiescent serendipity surreal anestra
Jan 22, 2013
Jan 22, 2013 at 6:16 AM UTC
I can't stop writing this poetry,
Because all I think of is poetry.
Phrases repeat temselves spontaniously.
Like trains coming continuously
Rhyme and metre extravagantly
Burst into flames explosively.
Twas I who consulted psychiatry.
OCD he said repeatedly.
OCD I thought repeatedly.
Then I broke free
From
Rhyme and. Metre
And any rules really!!!
**** it?
Flower
Sunshine in the rain
Relax bro
Be open and throw **** all over the place
But do it with grace.
Apr 18, 2016
Apr 18, 2016 at 10:43 AM UTC
I'm tired
It's to early
How exhilarating
Get up get moving
Get exonerated of past jury's
Long worries
Till death I'm exasperating
Extravagantly emulating
This feeling
Feels like
It doesn't come with emotion
Not cold
No hurry
Not warm
Don't scurry
I will not promise that the murky waters ahead
Won't let you tread
Till you crystallize dead
Then evaporate while your mind is sleep
And your subconscious soaks the memory cup effervescent
Then will you know that
You will not come back
Escape the elasticity
With electric scissors
And that's more then needed
But it's this route you go
Because the Harder you learn the more you will grow
It's too bad this whole time you weren't sleeping
It's time for work
Sep 4, 2015
Sep 4, 2015 at 6:47 AM UTC
I give to charity.
Some people out there need food.
The charities send me messages begging for money.
The messages seem to be getting more extravagantly made.
It seems to me that the charities are getter richer.
They are begging more and more.
I give to charity.
Sometimes I don't.
Jan 27, 2011
Jan 27, 2011 at 7:46 AM UTC
I wish
It were Christmas
Because I love the frenzy
And excuses it brings.
It's a beautiful
Excuse to not do
The ******* things
In life that we spend
Our lives doing.
The fairy lights
Entwined in the trees
Cross continents
With the buzz
of electricity.
I wish it were
Christmas because
It brings the beautiful
Excuse to love
Extravagantly.
Just as we love
The icy daisies
Of spring I love
The warm branches
Of bare Christmas Trees
I wish it were Christmas
Because I want to
Hang the rosewood
Baubles round
And see the glitter of sequin
Bunting strung happily
About the bedrooms.
I love the beautiful
Excuses brought
In the gifts bought
And how love is sieved
Through in the snow.
Apr 18, 2014
Apr 18, 2014 at 12:54 PM UTC
Many thousand glittering motes
Crowd forward greedily together
In trembling circles.
Extravagantly carousing away
For a whole hour rapidly vanishing,
They rave, delirious, a shrill whir,
Shivering with joy against death.
While kingdoms, sunk into ruin,
Whose thrones, heavy with gold, instantly scattered
Into night and legend, without leaving a trace,
Have never known so fierce a dancing.
3.3k
It is useless
To put a love worth more than fire
In the vicinity of a child.
Small hands catching embers
Like snowflakes.
Feet powdered with ashes
Will only ruin his mother's dress.
No one can keep two eyes
On their brother's treasure
Without dreaming of islands.
White sand outlining
The future of the red hands.
A future lived extravagantly
In an empty beach house.
Unfair,
To a world filled with hypocrisy,
For lovers to live like angles.
Cynical souls will never grasp
A hand as beautiful as yours.
Company, confused in confession,
Lost in self-loathing,
Cannot behold eyes of the
Darkest forest green.
Skin subsides for saber teeth,
Not worthy enough for your lips.
It is unfair to the world
That you are mine.
I found a lone pearl in a grave
Of broken glass.
Nov 5, 2012
Nov 5, 2012 at 2:29 AM UTC
Purifying bath Katmandu Nepal
Yes come to these purifying waters join these ladies it will not perform the greater spiritual cleansing
But it provides a picture of glory with her lying on her back she is just slightly submerged in this grey
Clear water her face is beaming her shoulders are bare her hair flows around her neck on one side one
Arm is freely laid over her chest the other extends upward as a friend holds her by the wrist we all know
The bliss that water enriches us with her brown skin is truly purified and her personnel glory again
Beams with such peace soon the elements will converge to change her thoughts and feelings but they
Will not touch the conciseness that was altered in the river Baghmati during Reshi Panchmi a purifying
And Atonement day for women they bare extra burdens in foreign lands how great to see them
Experience such joy countless burdens are washed away at least momentarily water the friend and
Blessed comfort to matrons it provides one of the most picture perfect sights of a soul in repose you lie
Without care a dear friend holds you by the wrist they bottled water if only they could capture this
Special reality and provide it on demand there is nothing stopping anyone from acting this out it would
Change your day your whole perspective it would truly reenergize body and soul I thought I would just
Share a place in time a rite that provides concepts that ever so briefly will take you out of time fill you
With rapture make you devoid of care allow you to play in the courts of the extravagantly rich with out
Price or responsibility they say nothing is free it doesn’t get any more free or freeing than this I guess it
Cost nature the clouds way up in the Himalayas release the moist weight it falls as abundant rain the
River swells and flows gravity pulls it down to the lower valley and when you enter you luxuriate in
Water’s gift tell the tale Katmandu alone is renown but it has even greater layers of reward than the
normal expectations hope you enjoyed a refreshing
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 6:41 PM UTC
Purifying bath Katmandu Nepal
Yes come to these purifying waters join these ladies it will not perform the greater spiritual cleansing
But it provides a picture of glory with her lying on her back she is just slightly submerged in this grey
Clear water her face is beaming her shoulders are bare her hair flows around her neck on one side one
Arm is freely laid over her chest the other extends upward as a friend holds her by the wrist we all know
The bliss that water enriches us with her brown skin is truly purified and her personnel glory again
Beams with such peace soon the elements will converge to change her thoughts and feelings but they
Will not touch the conciseness that was altered in the river Baghmati during Reshi Panchmi a purifying
And Atonement day for women they bare extra burdens in foreign lands how great to see them
Experience such joy countless burdens are washed away at least momentarily water the friend and
Blessed comfort to matrons it provides one of the most picture perfect sights of a soul in repose you lie
Without care a dear friend holds you by the wrist they bottled water if only they could capture this
Special reality and provide it on demand there is nothing stopping anyone from acting this out it would
Change your day your whole perspective it would truly reenergize body and soul I thought I would just
Share a place in time a rite that provides concepts that ever so briefly will take you out of time fill you
With rapture make you devoid of care allow you to play in the courts of the extravagantly rich with out
Price or responsibility they say nothing is free it doesn’t get any more free or freeing than this I guess it
Cost nature the clouds way up in the Himalayas release the moist weight it falls as abundant rain the
River swells and flows gravity pulls it down to the lower valley and when you enter you luxuriate in
Water’s gift tell the tale Katmandu alone is renown but it has even greater layers of reward than the
normal expectations hope you enjoyed a refreshing
Sep 21, 2012
Sep 21, 2012 at 6:41 PM UTC
I could tell you how to write a poem
Playful phrasing, not too quick, not too strong,
Be graphic and persuasive, appealing to us all,
The want for supposed meaning and a silver tongue
Is the truth beneath our fall
Heartfelt sentiment, articulation,
Let’s entice some Pharisees to avoid any tribulation
For the bouts and shouts of living out
And extravagantly exhibiting oneself to all and everyone—
Clichéd, now it may be,
There’s truth in that I see
Can we find apparent happiness
All appearance and accreditation,
Let’s be certain we’re (clandestinely) drudging for recognition,
Yet, I can never tell you what is true in writing,
The slow path? That’s what I long for,
Or profess, in the world of colorful mosaics,
I am the truth! The way and the light!
I’ll set you free! The God of Wonders!
Can’t you see?
I’m God, I’ve always meant to be!
*Heaven help me,
I didn’t mean to pretend
But I believed beyond
What even I could comprehend..
I’m not God, this I know,
But is this—
The way I'll go?*
It is my end…
Jul 12, 2014
Jul 12, 2014 at 10:20 PM UTC
sort-of falls in line with
a certain sense of humour;
a certain need for extravagantly epic Music;
Truest of Metal
is an extension, an expression,
of the disciplines of:
Practice, Patience, and Study
in the realm of Music
as well as whatever Instrument;
some of it is, indeed, simply noise
but, then again,
Music is but ordered noise,
is it not?
I see little separation
from Classical and Metal;
though Classical came first
Metal learned what works and why
from what came before;
a sort-of Musical evolution
a sort-of Cognitive evolution
a sort-of inspiration;
Metal music has great potential,
Metal is akin to Blues and Jazz
Metal is akin to Spanish Classical Guitar
Metal is akin to Baroque styles
Metal is akin to Gregorian chants
as well as rhythmic elements
derived from the Music
of various Cultures and Tribes
worldwide.
Metal
is a moderately tongue in cheek
melting ***
for lots of styles,
and, honestly,
lots of Drugs,
such as :alcohol and nicotine
and high-energy Music;
Truest of Metal
is an Art and a Science,
and, to some,
even a Religion.
Jan 27, 2014
Jan 27, 2014 at 6:32 PM UTC
conversational tones too often
tumble into sloppiness, leaving
my words marked with fumble
-d caresses and stuttering half-t
-houghts. i don't leave you with
my leftovers on purpose, they d
-ropped into my purse when i c
-ame to see you today. a lot of th
-ings drop into my mind when i
see you. but it's mostly your wo
-rds. perhaps my only love affair
was with the letters you placed
under my name. i never wanted
to be beautiful until you wrote o
-f it with a ball point pen; never
dreamt of living extravagantly u
-ntil you dusted me in spices and
sparks with flecks of ink and the
marks of your fingers. you crafte
-d everything you loved about m
-e. you are the only reason i am e
-xtravagantly in love with the fle
-cks and sparks under my skin. y
-ou planted whispers beneath my
eyes and called them dangerous.
but only you were dangerous
to me
Nov 20, 2017
Nov 20, 2017 at 6:17 PM UTC
Collaboration's implicit excitations explicate expectations
Unity's myriad augurs geomancy's indications
Demagoguery's ostensibly intuitive impetus coordinations
Extravagantly exorbitant panaceas appreciate exaggerations
Prolifically profuse profundity's autonomous gestations
Empirically emulate epistemology's exogamous creations
Intrigue's imperative promulgation's quantum fecundations
Fealty's ephemeral enunciation's explicit complications
Hypercritically exponential prophylaxis protocol's interpretations
Sacrosanct unary's preternatural predilection's extrications
Eventuation's evocative illuminism avant garde's ostentations
Corrupt costume counselor's indicative explications
Assimilation's synthetic synthesis' ascensional implications
Ominous phenomenon portrayal detinue's integrations
Umbrage ultraism's penumbral platitude's objectifications
Futurity's spontaneous flamboyance's apotropaic expiations
Nov 30, 2018
Nov 30, 2018 at 7:53 PM UTC
Igor found himself producing the hot new reality podcast
about the first [known] father-son transgender family;
he only produced the pilot then left the States in disgrace
after homophobic thugs attacked the set & beat down
the cast & crew in a ****** riot captured live on multiple
hi-def cameras from the multiple angles
already set up for the extravagantly
over budgeted podcast [his master footage recorded
on multiple flashdrives
hidden all over his person - the podcast project
went ahead w/out him backed
by lucrative corporate funding, Igor editing
the original material into his next feature;
Eli lowered the tinted window & passed Igor the Cuban,
Igor lighting it on his way around to the passenger side;
YA ne mogu ostat'sya v Rossii, he says; why's that?
asks Eli, lighting his own cigar & driving off;
Boleye poloviny prestupnikov - gey; Eto stanet khorosho
izvestno; Eli waswatching the street, scouting for new talent;
u can't worry about that kind of **** Igor. u showed people
what those ******** are really about - - a bunch of angry ****
w/ shaved heads,
who knew; opening the sun roof,
Eli blew the Cuban's smoke
towards the Saint Petersburg sky;
Igor reclining the leather seat,
[ ] [ ], [ ]
[ ], [ ] , [ ]
[ ] [ ], [ ]
[ ],
filling his head w/ night
Aug 31, 2018
Aug 31, 2018 at 4:34 AM UTC
Diastolic memory fills mind with blood
Heart purges other unforgettable serum
Gushing in and out; valediction, invasion
Scent left on bed sheets binomial theorem
Calculus, physics computing mnemonics us
Trust not sum of it, exponents baying flux
Participles and components abject humbling
Stumbling bio discourse create sedentary crux
Stupefying brain surgeons, those of heart too
Call in mathematicians, astronomers as well
No making sense of it, linguistic doctorates few
To tell of this push-pull sensory denoting hell
Not much time to live after lungs dispensed
Entrenched questions remain to be adoring
Extravagantly historians exploring
Unanswerable examining of this imploring
Must breathe the linens till all dissipation
Your essence in the ether of our resting
Place turned into mad languid laboratory
Conjuring back moments I am requesting
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 9:30 AM UTC
Tempests escort trust
Right out the door
In rudest manner.
Blustery, with an icy chill
That breathes nausea into my soul,
Fear has ******* trust for far too long.
This is not The Way.
This is not what He designed,
Nor paid so dearly for.
He could not be more clear:
“You will have trouble-
But take heart,
I have overcome the world,
I am with you always,”
Cast your cares on me,
Consider the lilies of the field,
I’ve numbered the hairs on your head.”
It’s time I get ruthless,
Toss fear and worry out,
And bar the door with trust.
Start a fire of gratitude in the hearth,
And cook a celebratory feast.
When darkness descends
And trouble comes in waves,
When I see things gone wrong,
With no redeeming bent,
I will wait.
I will clutch His hand and wait.
I will look around in this moment,
And ask, “Father, what would you have?”
I lack understanding,
And there is nothing good in me,
But I belong to One who
Loves extravagantly,
Strengthens repeatedly,
Forgives freely,
Rules in humility,
And is jealous for my trust.
I’m beginning to think
It is an all or nothing proposition.
Clarity may not come,
Not in this shady realm.
But confident expectation surely can.
Do I or don’t I?
Will I or won’t I?
Trepidation and trust
Just a heartbeat apart, these two.
It’s time for ruthless trust.
Apr 26, 2013
Apr 26, 2013 at 1:49 PM UTC
Lean on my chest, gentle one, let's sit holding hands,
mountain breeze whispers Shanti mantras, let's repeat it,
may tranquil be our souls, we aren't weary yet, but the ardor
of the climb ends here; from this vintage point we are,
distant heaven and beloved earth, look deceptively equidistant,
rest your eyes on mine, let me see eternity flashing it's light.
Don't even say a word, what your heart beat says is to my heart,
the view from this peak is what we dreamt always,remember?
an incredible leap of the souls, now we feel, is the reward of the trek
we are equanimous, yet the tears in your doe eyes, I can't bear,
we are mortals, pain is a mongrel, our faithful companion to the end.
Let's sit here, till the gold dust, the passing sun extravagantly sprinkles,
that tells stories of galaxies dying down and new ones taking birth-
finally settles, and the anesthetic of darkness gently descends.
Look! the hidden envious eyes of the night, from afar peep at us,
on the journey back, we'll fly beyond limits and vanquish the big dark.
Feb 12, 2015
Feb 12, 2015 at 11:22 AM UTC
Shall we pluck intensity from the air
and perhaps coil it soundly and
extravagantly into a petal-soft bed
of rarely seen dreaming,
where sheets of silk make textured
messages into sequinned bliss
with rainbowed moonbeams ?
Shall we take flight, you and I ?
Untried dimensions wait to take us far,
to make morning metaphors,
and catch sight of bliss
made for our breakfasting bed.
Let us capture euphoria
to feel more elation, and when
glorious sun enters,
rapturous untamed passion
shall paint light on the face
of our embrace leading to ecstasy.
Shall we make haste then to taste eternity ?
Oct 26, 2010
Oct 26, 2010 at 9:51 AM UTC
Sitting there in a mist I was lookin at the turning,
Holding onto what the heart was yearning,
50 percent was it about u concerning,
50 percent fr the nasty end determining.
Cold was the blood from the brain returning,
Soul was chilled but the body was burning.
Body was in a trauma, its insides churning,
And the soul inside that body just kept mourning.
She was there in front of me,
Questions raising in mind lyk a hue.
It was lyk we were meeting,
Somewhere out of the blue.
Her eyes brown and cold,
Like those prepared to hold,
Clenching my heart with her softest touch,
She was Silent but extravagantly bold..
Hair was like the flowing river,
Ears covered with small rings of gold.
Her Lips were saying something,
Eyes depicting back the love which was once sold.
We'd been so beautiful together,
But then u smashed and made it all fall,
Then I went on walking aimlessly,
About the world, I hardly cared at all.
What did u think I was made of,
Body of wood And heart wid abstract walls?,
And then the gasoline u took by,
Spilled it, lit it and made it burn all.
Now u come again to see the burnt ashes,
And wid those lips, to this, love u call.
U'd been so enormous to me,
Now u r the same but u look so small.
The only fear that now concerns me,
Is if u ask for forgiveness I vl forget it all.
Sitting there in a mist I was lookin at the turning,
Holding onto what the heart was yearning,
50 percent was it about u concerning,
50 percent fr the nasty end determining.
Cold was the blood from the brain returning,
Soul was chilled but the body was burning.
Body was in a trauma, its insides churning,
And the soul inside that body just kept mourning.
COPYRIGHT 2013 © MAHESH HEGDE. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
Jan 24, 2014
Jan 24, 2014 at 11:12 PM UTC
I travelled the Mediterranean coast
when I was young
Such a beautiful landscape
Carefully carved from stone
Castles and cathedrals
Extravagantly designed
The marriage of man and divinity
In a Jubilee ancient time
Unfortunately
The ghost of my ethnicity
No long prevails
If there’s no forest or rivers
I call that hell
I’ll take the winter
I’ll wait for the season to change
Find me not in any city
Nor any kind of desert terrain
Out here is where I’ll stay!
Jul 14, 2024
Jul 14, 2024 at 12:57 PM UTC
Perhaps everything that has ever existed will exist forever in the psychic clarity of God. Retrospectively retroactive's omniscient ubiquity. Objectified manifest's infinite possibilities exponentially
extemporaneous eidetic prospectus perpetrates incorporeity ideology's perfectible ontology.
Imagination's immaturities would seem to purvey that these things are irrefragably inevitable in the light of noumenal sentience's semantic regalia. Astral projection's distance traveled time spent's dynamic progressiveness to clairaudience clairvoyance existential extremity.
Spatiotemporal telemetry tactician's trajectory extant is totally tangential. Extravagantly exorbitant's flirtatious flamboyance to flippantly flighty flit-ness. Down here at the bizarre bazaar we all believe in the blasphemous farcical fugue-ness estranged ensemble orchestrations and all. Some of us are even into the various assorted forms of related stranger weirdness, similar states of analogous collusion and ancillary subordinateness. Laboriously beleaguering hypercritically meticulous tedium, excruciating exacerbations of autonomous avarice.
I'd like to think that these arguments have leverage on the reconnaissance reconnoiter. Mentality's osteopathic prescience is an empirical substance. Psychokinesis is an art. Eclectic synectics's social contiguities zoomorphic zoolatry to demagoguery could raise us all to new heights of enigmatism and leave our corporeally preternatural finiteness endowed with a fidelity that exceeds itself, foreshadowing life's mysteries. No more dour droll dreary ochlocracy of an oligarchy. Stolid stoic bailiff's rake-ness rails, vicarious recalcitrance for all!
Jan 25, 2025
Jan 25, 2025 at 12:34 PM UTC
Dance For
with our Despite
me. gorgeous this
curtain expeditious
Despite call, expansion
this
vast For the which
void prelude separates us apart
between of a brighter
us prospect Let you lift the veils of my
kaleidoscopic nebulae and touch
my blazing heart lies underneath
Splash of in the way i caress yours while the
Shining crystal two of them melt down, fuse together
unleash hives of fireflies
Amongst the crowd
of endlessly our course
straying strangers come across
Would i care
pouring lifetime collection Garnet
of my astro toss all of them extravagantly
billions of millions of them Diamond
in exchange of crossing
your wings with mine Amythest
Aquamarine
Lit up Fire Opal
the magnificent our
symphany curtain call
and the prelude Drawing
of an upcoming curves of
brighter prospect new horizon
Dance with me
Aug 1, 2013
Aug 1, 2013 at 12:25 PM UTC
Everybody adores you
You are worth so much more than a torrent of tears
She will be saved
If I don't mop it up for you
Lick off your sweat
You are the only one who deserves laughter
Every time,
There is utility in donning it for me
Never, Do I wish to forget you
and how you partially appear
No one will ever forget your silence
Losing countless memories of you
You cannot feel hate, death
could sadly stand still
If you would extravagantly appear
Here
Here
Here.
Mar 7, 2015
Mar 7, 2015 at 11:38 PM UTC