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"harkens" poems
MY LONG TREK ON WRONG LEGS, BEG DYNAMITE FROM HUSH DUDS DAMP CANNONS BILLOW IN THE EAST WIND, LIKE FLACCID DRAGONS GAGGING ON IRON APPLES I SURGE IMPOTENT IN MY WRATH, SUNBATHING BY AFTERGLOW HEROICALLY CONTAINED. DISMANTLED... I CRAFT THE WITHERING OF MY FURY WITH A STEADY HAND; AND A JADED HEART STARK BLIGHT, DRAINS MY CUP OF THUNDER, WHERE MY LIGHTNING CLOTS WHERE SOLID DARK HARKENS MY YELLOW SUN HARDENS; LIKE AN UNSTRUCK COIN BLANK IN MY POCKET SHARDS OF DULL ACHE... UNSHARPEN MY RED SEA DEPARTS MY KELP BEDS DISMAYED.
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Jun 24, 2013
Jun 24, 2013 at 7:03 PM UTC
EYE TALK...[ ULYSSES ]
I'd love to peer into that brain of yours and see the actual mechanics of your thinking.  Where those creative juices of yours throb and pulse. Ya, I'll drink to that.    Maybe use one of them scopes to explore the left ventricle of your heart (you know, that chamber of the Heart that pumps blood through the aorta).  Figure out that sensitive heart of yours.    Explore the rubber consistency of the lining of your lungs. With that heaving chest and ******* of yours, those lungs must be so healthy in their pinkish hue.   Just some barstool thoughts while waiting for closing time.    Staring into this shot glass in front of me, my memory harkens back to the time you cut your arm and I ****** the blood from it, so salty and all.  I want to bottle you up in a liquid formula or capsulize your essence in a unique pill form where I can digest and absorb you and grow new cells from the energy I receive from the calories of your precious body.    Maybe with the power of your bodies flesh I can grow a sixth toe, develop a third eye, build an *****  I love you so much I could eat you up!    Barkeep says this is last call so I better drink up and be on my way.  I wonder what your left ventricle really looks like under close inspection?      Just wondering, do you have any x-rays of your body I could have?                                              See ya,   Creepy  Ray Ray
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Aug 21, 2018
Aug 21, 2018 at 6:45 PM UTC
A Text from Creepy Ray Ray
*Moonflower in the Pale Moon Light Gently unfurling Willingly to the Nights Delight Cloistered under the Bright Clear Sun.. Shutting Herself Till the Day is Done Secrets Revealed under the Veil Of Darkness Light of the Moon The only Language To which She Harkens* * * * * * Copyright © 2014 Christi Michaels. All Rights Reserved
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Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 6:02 AM UTC
MoonFlower in the Pale Moon Light
In the shadow of dreams The silent movement of air Harkens the arrival of the Spirit of Love Softly, so as to not disturb a slumber She slinks into every warm space Filling the endless void with passion She pulls the spirit out of the person To frolic in the distant moonlight They dance in the essence of hearts Hearts joined by blood Lives shared through time She unites them in dreams, in reality, in life One soul, one heartbeat, one infinity of love
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Mar 5, 2015
Mar 5, 2015 at 9:38 PM UTC
Enamored in Perpetuity
I'm fighting hard for a reason to stay I'm trying hard my demons to slay But my swords are all broken, turned to rust I'm afraid I'm all hollow, I'm but a crust I'm striving to see the light, in this inky thick darkness But to my screams and pleas, only the demons harkens Where is my guardian angel I'm in danger Where is my knight in shining armor I can't find a safe harbor Where is my sweet dear friend I'm afraid it's close to the end I'm trying to save myself, it's not working I'm trying hard, I'm not shirking I need someone to care, I need a helping hand Before my hourglass runs out of sand I'm running out of time Worthless is this life of mine
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Apr 27, 2016
Apr 27, 2016 at 8:10 PM UTC
Running out of Sand
Constantly averting controversy, Hurting from unnerving problems. Not the worst thing I've unearthed inside, The birth of mind-disturbing strife attacks my life, so I Turn the knife and end the plight, cause That's the kind of fright that strikes the right delight I see in sight. In darkest night, sin harkens. Vibrant demons mark their silent dealings with violence. Screaming stops my lungs, no breathing, Retreating feelings try to stop the gun from ringing, But the voice inside my head that's pleading Remains important and so appeasing. Like a fiend I resort to that deemed purport, A pristine contortion of me and distortion, A means for war, hence demons worsen.   Cursed, I've seen adverse ********** Burned, at least the urn was worth it. Dreams are but a sea of urges, Waves of hurt; a ****** circus. Earth was keen to be so perfect, But dirt, it seems, reversed its purpose, Purged of peace by scheming serpents. Words convene to verse excursions Terse, obscene, and birth diversion. Learn to breathe when yearn disperses, Purely seek to preserve incursion. When earnest deeds immerse subservience,   Evil creeds are sure to surface, But thoughts serene will soothe the burdens. Heaps of greed control these words,   Though, predisposed in certain versions. Weeds they grow in fields of ferns, and, No one seems to know the urgence. Flowing streams bring treacherous currents, Twists and turns that reap insurgence. Since discernment keeps deterrents, Court the beast with immense observance, Or disease will curse life's brief occurrence. Treat the deepest ravine of courage With leniency so peace emerges. Dreams are but a grieving circus, That creep beneath your bleeding surface, Seizing leagues of zealous verbiage, Leaving hurt to skirt loves purpose, return concernment; Submerge the cures for feeling worthless.
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Mar 31, 2019
Mar 31, 2019 at 2:28 PM UTC
The Logistics
Constantly averting controversy, Hurting from unnerving problems. Not the worst thing I've unearthed inside, The birth of mind-disturbing strife attacks my life, so I Turn the knife and end the plight, cause That's the kind of fright that strikes the right delight I see in sight. In darkest night, sin harkens. Vibrant demons mark their silent dealings with violence. Screaming stops my lungs, no breathing, Retreating feelings try to stop the gun from ringing, But the voice inside my head that's pleading Remains important and so appeasing. Like a fiend I resort to that deemed purport, A pristine contortion of me and distortion, A means for war, hence demons worsen.   Cursed, I've seen adverse ********** Burned, at least the urn was worth it. Dreams are but a sea of urges, Waves of hurt; a ****** circus. Earth was keen to be so perfect, But dirt, it seems, reversed its purpose, Purged of peace by scheming serpents. Words convene to verse excursions Terse, obscene, and birth diversion. Learn to breathe when yearn disperses, Purely seek to preserve incursion. When earnest deeds immerse subservience,   Evil creeds are sure to surface, But thoughts serene will soothe the burdens. Heaps of greed control these words,   Though, predisposed in certain versions. Weeds they grow in fields of ferns, and, No one seems to know the urgence. Flowing streams bring treacherous currents, Twists and turns that reap insurgence. Since discernment keeps deterrents, Court the beast with immense observance, Or disease will curse life's brief occurrence. Treat the deepest ravine of courage With leniency so peace emerges. Dreams are but a grieving circus, That creep beneath your bleeding surface, Seizing leagues of zealous verbiage, Leaving hurt to skirt loves purpose, return concernment; Submerge the cures for feeling worthless.
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45
Brown-thrush singing all day long In the leaves above me, Take my love this April song, “Love me, love me, love me!” When he harkens what you say, Bid him, lest he miss me, Leave his work or leave his play, And kiss me, kiss me, kiss me!
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1k
Love Me
Novices Our love stands on stilts twisting weaving struggling to maintain balance a strong wind could tip us a pulsating bass could trip us. Eye to eye but yet so high wobbling. Trying to find our footing if we lean to close we are bound to stumble and fall. But your breath so sweet kerosene beneath my wooden feet ignites the fire too hot to handle. Have you ever tried taking off your clothes when eight feet high? **** the stilts she cried and in mid air embrace rotating in ****** embrace the stilts were gone my legs were gone circling each other round and round We fell Calling for that one true sound. In simultaneous bliss a holler a harkens Link's Zelda song a lightening storm we screamed for the sound of our exquisite joy and far too fast we crashed to the ground.
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 10:09 AM UTC
Stilts Love Sex/Eroticism On A Rainy Day
Dead plains Open air My baby, my K, Smells of lavender petals, Defined despair. A known Vowel howls Like she does at night. Turning right she lights All former antiquities Prove wrongful due regularity. A pressing matter topples Next to the standing tower of rubble. Grey stubble tumbles Like hours out of the hands of a clock. A kaleidoscope of horror Makes the mind entrenched in narrow. She tells me the name Of a former lover of another That pressed no buttons, rubbing Everything The wrong way. We compare, we see a sea of troubles Illuminating nothing but the past, Never meant to be free.   Trees shallow swinging singing Like scythes across the yard. Burgundy yarn weaves through my heart, Cold as you were today, I got nothing else to say. Pressing matter, dear dead hatter. Craziness is a beauty Only the Cleopatra's of the world Have to truly suffer. Cradle me naked, cradle me dreamed', Ain't no love like the Broken sick and broken hearted'. At least the darkness Harkens thee dead ghosts of Former lives forgotten. Grey gravestones smell like Roses given my former lovers; Each hour with her is One that will never be forgotten. Present pasts pass me in the Mirror; these shop windows are all colored Green. Caretaker saint, apple apricot skate, a Note for the doctor stating All is forgiven, all is about. I remember the dream, Shallow and filled with steam. Fine patent leather, stitches and cream. She pressed her face to mine, Like silk string woven into seams. Nothing is the matter. Nothing passes the time. Dylan hurls the harpsichord, Gripping the nails, Repositioning the boards. The ice was to thick to climb, The snow to heavy to see through. Where you see your life is What you think you can do. Books on fire. Trains of heavy steam. Life is nothing but An unforgettable dream.
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Apr 6, 2014
Apr 6, 2014 at 6:09 AM UTC
An Unforgettable Dream
Dead plains Open air My baby, my K, Smells of lavender petals, Defined despair. A known Vowel howls Like she does at night. Turning right she lights All former antiquities Prove wrongful due regularity. A pressing matter topples Next to the standing tower of rubble. Grey stubble tumbles Like hours out of the hands of a clock. A kaleidoscope of horror Makes the mind entrenched in narrow. She tells me the name Of a former lover of another That pressed no buttons, rubbing Everything The wrong way. We compare, we see a sea of troubles Illuminating nothing but the past, Never meant to be free.   Trees shallow swinging singing Like scythes across the yard. Burgundy yarn weaves through my heart, Cold as you were today, I got nothing else to say. Pressing matter, dear dead hatter. Craziness is a beauty Only the Cleopatra's of the world Have to truly suffer. Cradle me naked, cradle me dreamed', Ain't no love like the Broken sick and broken hearted'. At least the darkness Harkens thee dead ghosts of Former lives forgotten. Grey gravestones smell like Roses given my former lovers; Each hour with her is One that will never be forgotten. Present pasts pass me in the Mirror; these shop windows are all colored Green. Caretaker saint, apple apricot skate, a Note for the doctor stating All is forgiven, all is about. I remember the dream, Shallow and filled with steam. Fine patent leather, stitches and cream. She pressed her face to mine, Like silk string woven into seams. Nothing is the matter. Nothing passes the time. Dylan hurls the harpsichord, Gripping the nails, Repositioning the boards. The ice was to thick to climb, The snow to heavy to see through. Where you see your life is What you think you can do. Books on fire. Trains of heavy steam. Life is nothing but An unforgettable dream.
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68
Some are led by tears, both happy and sad, Some are led by fears, type to drive you mad, Emotions, Emoticons, Pros and cons, Prose and... mon frère ne m'adore pas, so follow your heart, if it is a heart that seeks the Light and Truth and Peace, life is not easy, but that daily path brings a moments ease, to breath, to observe, to delight to experience, if it is a dark heart that seeks Darkness and Distortion and to be Dire life is not easy, but that daily path harkens disproportionate fire toward hate,          to ensnare,          to lie,          to leave, we each only have one heart, paint it what you will, beats the same blood, flooding arteries and veins, feint or faint, follow your heart and leave mine alone, for my mis-beats I will atone.
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Jun 14, 2014
Jun 14, 2014 at 5:04 PM UTC
Follow your Heart
Soft and warm Sealed with care Sweet and kind Will ever share Brave and strong Yet so fair That is her She's always there Sensitive to despair Harkens to others welfare Delicate she's elsewhere Beautiful beyond compare If you meet her Best Beware She'll steal your heart unaware Her name is ****** This I swear There's none like her anywhere
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Aug 26, 2012
Aug 26, 2012 at 7:55 PM UTC
Its simply her
I'm fighting hard for a reason to stay I'm trying hard my demons to slay But my swords are all broken, turned to rust I'm afraid I'm all hollow, I'm but a crust I'm striving to see the light, in this inky thick darkness But to my screams and pleas, only the demons harkens Where is my guardian angel I'm in danger Where is my knight in shining armor I can't find a safe harbor Where is my sweet dear friend I'm afraid it's close to the end I'm trying to save myself, it's not working I'm trying hard, I'm not shirking I need someone to care, I need a helping hand Before my hourglass runs out of sand I'm running out of time Worthless is this life of mine
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Feb 9, 2016
Feb 9, 2016 at 7:59 PM UTC
Running out of Sand
Reality forsaken For a chance at the golden ring And though it’s only made of brass A chance to grab it still could bring Dreams of glory yet remain Waiting on the shelf For father time to come along To turn them into wealth And so our good friend harkens And listens for the call Remembering dreams of glory Before a mighty fall And time alone can put aside The fears of remaining true Refusing to abjure the dreams Or asking where or who Can take a chance again each day Looking to the goal For brass or gold it’s still a ring A circle with a hole
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Aug 24, 2018
Aug 24, 2018 at 5:22 PM UTC
Reality Forsaken
The fizz rises, the fizz falls pain harkens, fever calls; along the forehead, and down shivering arms awaiting the round fizz rising and falling. Froth settles on the top, but the cough, the cough remains; the fizz, soft now yellow, not yet, is bringing any relief.
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Aug 26, 2014
Aug 26, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
Alka Seltzer
My little angel, there you lay; Looking at me with thoughts of play. I seem to view you in light anew, It dawns on me…I see my world in you! The blue of your eyes, deep as they be; Harkens me back to a tropical sea. They sparkle and shimmer and look on with love; They confirm to my senses, you were sent from above! The tint of your cheeks on each side of your nose; Looks to me the same hue as a pink blushing rose. They grow even darker each time that you grin; I can’t wait for that smile, time and again! Your laughter, it carries upon the warm breeze; And it rings out more lovely than fine symphonies. The noises you make, so dripping with glee; Spring from your throat with each new thing you see! Your spirit; uplifting, adventurous, trusting; Bowls me over completely, more than any wind gusting. The wondrous way you view the world with delight; Makes my heart skip a beat, and fly high as a kite! And so I gaze upon you with my adoring eyes; Knowing my love has no boundaries in size. Thank you for making each day bright and new; And remember forever…I see my world in you!
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Jul 22, 2010
Jul 22, 2010 at 7:03 PM UTC
“My World in You”
it's pain missing someone you know you can never see again but it's a special kind of torture to miss the man sitting right next to me has he left yet? an imminent departure that looms ominously in the future concrete and yet nebulous in its heat-wrenching reality but am i not already gone departed from this bag of bones the sack of flesh that holds your hand physically next to you but miles away lost in the shadow world of haze and fog detached so that you can't be ripped from my heart or at least i won't be able to feel it like a ghost reaching for the tenuous solidity of life you slip right through my fingers the last drops of water in the barren wasteland of famine and drought sun scorched earth desert land parched with cracks running like fault lines and i'm waiting for the earthquake the meteor impact for a chasm to open up and devour me to take away my agency so i won't have to die by my own hand but what else am i to do? i am a rapidly swirling hurricane a typhoon of uncontrollable emotion and thoughts chained to the white matter tethered to my brain scratching away as a constant reminder that you're leaving and i'll once more be abandoned alone nothing but loneliness is a familiar friend am i a monster? or just a machine trundling towards the end of the tracks the derailment of my tenuous sanity and i welcome the carnage the shards of glass and twisted metal that harkens back to the burdening truth inside that i'm still here and the pain is unbearable and i'm broken like a swallow's shattered wing i try to fly but that gelatinous appendage can't bear me to the sky so i fall and pass you on the way down and i never expected you to catch me you didn't but your face that blur registering only as that unmistakeable longing that soul crushing emotion that settles in my heart and clogs the arteries until its furious beats are choked out but i welcome death because i live in those tenuous moments between the last heartbeat and the cessation of neural firings i'm drowning i can't keep my head above water but the burning in my lungs can't distract me from that ripping clawing terror in my chest and not even death can erase the gaping empty vacuum you leave in your wake.
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Mar 22, 2016
Mar 22, 2016 at 1:46 PM UTC
leave
it's pain missing someone you know you can never see again but it's a special kind of torture to miss the man sitting right next to me has he left yet? an imminent departure that looms ominously in the future concrete and yet nebulous in its heat-wrenching reality but am i not already gone departed from this bag of bones the sack of flesh that holds your hand physically next to you but miles away lost in the shadow world of haze and fog detached so that you can't be ripped from my heart or at least i won't be able to feel it like a ghost reaching for the tenuous solidity of life you slip right through my fingers the last drops of water in the barren wasteland of famine and drought sun scorched earth desert land parched with cracks running like fault lines and i'm waiting for the earthquake the meteor impact for a chasm to open up and devour me to take away my agency so i won't have to die by my own hand but what else am i to do? i am a rapidly swirling hurricane a typhoon of uncontrollable emotion and thoughts chained to the white matter tethered to my brain scratching away as a constant reminder that you're leaving and i'll once more be abandoned alone nothing but loneliness is a familiar friend am i a monster? or just a machine trundling towards the end of the tracks the derailment of my tenuous sanity and i welcome the carnage the shards of glass and twisted metal that harkens back to the burdening truth inside that i'm still here and the pain is unbearable and i'm broken like a swallow's shattered wing i try to fly but that gelatinous appendage can't bear me to the sky so i fall and pass you on the way down and i never expected you to catch me you didn't but your face that blur registering only as that unmistakeable longing that soul crushing emotion that settles in my heart and clogs the arteries until its furious beats are choked out but i welcome death because i live in those tenuous moments between the last heartbeat and the cessation of neural firings i'm drowning i can't keep my head above water but the burning in my lungs can't distract me from that ripping clawing terror in my chest and not even death can erase the gaping empty vacuum you leave in your wake.
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101
Eerie when it's three twenty-five In the mornings of a nevermore Fiendish powers dwelling inside Awakened in a feverous implore Darkness harkens souls to stay When in an illuminating twilight Subconscious turns ashen gray Plants suffering a certain blight Sleep had long not hypnotized Nights, they pass in dry spells No ravens come a tip tapping Upon my mind's sly betrothal Yet, the witching hour beckons My brain has a way of knowing Night, just half of it is passed Rest half would be my undoing
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Jun 2, 2020
Jun 2, 2020 at 7:43 PM UTC
Twenty-five past three
There's not a ****** thing these hands can do All there is Is the next word The next sentence The next breath The next exhale and the next Inhale We are bodies doomed to expel But born To create something within that Short Short Time Advancement is not a choice But an Obligation Laziness harkens the ones That do not Understand this Do not see this Do not hear the ticking time of death Do not hear the scratch of the scythe Upon the smooth grey Concrete I am lazy too I have drank my fill of hopelessness Of sadness Of temperatures and Rage The only thing it does Is make you see familiar things With a friendly kind of glaze And for many days I have laughed I have cried I have seen the hills on the Other side And understand now They are much like the hills Right Here
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Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 4:25 AM UTC
Untitled
Whisper In the dusk; the fading light my consciousness floats free to sleep, to roam, to dream. Daytime’s resonance, artificial and brash, drifts away. In its weakening wake, within the soft quiet of evening, Nature speaks again. Gently, she hums; she whispers; shushes the leaves in the trees, buzzes; at first a quiet drone - cicada in the night - swelling, a cacophony builds to crescendo, to diminish as cools the night. Nocturnal creatures rouse. Night flowers with each new awakening. Every one with their own instrument, play their part in her Evensong; deliver unseen complexity to the music. Night deepens, and the Mother puts down her baton, purses her lips and breathes out her scent - to float for the zephyr to take – a bearer of her gentled nature to those who dream within her tune. The sparkle of the stars bear cold and quiet witness to the wonder of Her pristine night, and the bearer of the keys of life: This Earth - for which She is guardian. Mother drifts into my dreams, leaving me with bittersweet. She touches my heart in whispers with her message, and harkens me to carry it forward. Dawn brings magenta skies. Before the tinny, manmade sounds carry me to daytime, I hear Her once more. Reminding me of the song in my heart. She bodes me remember where I will find it, and to listen. For it can only be found in her Whisper. -Lin Cava CC 25-October-2014
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Jun 6, 2016
Jun 6, 2016 at 1:16 PM UTC
Whisper
When Pastors meet and Pastors pray... God leans down from His Throne, To listen to the words they say... and any wisdom shown... He harkens to their fervent needs... desires, hopes and dreams, For without Him, not one succeeds... regardless of extremes... Not one can boast, save in the Lord, because of all He's done, That's why the best are overawed... that God spared not His Son... To think, Christ died for Pastors, too... yet now their flocks direct, Perhaps they even pray for you... as one of God's elect... What insights will such Pastors gain? What blessings will God send? What projects started yet remain... on which God's saints depend? I only know that God approves of Pastors young and old And that through such as these God moves... when they're as good as gold! Denis Martindale April 2018.
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May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 8:40 AM UTC
WHEN PASTORS PRAY...
----------------------------- Making order of a ****** mass, recovered testicles and shards of bone are filtered through trembling hands alongside the unseen vacancy standing silently - waiting blank and patient. A doctor's notes blown about by force, scatter and lift through the air peacefully moved by music and pain. The air is not thick, it is dry and light. You must suffer to get here but no one believes here is a place to be. Just ask your neighbor or your bosses friends. These ones have gotten lost within the lies that split the darkness from truth to be hung up in a viewing room for loose bottles of beer with friends Sunday afternoon trying to drown the silent tapping of panic. They won't believe you because what you describe harkens to ghosts and legend. Be very aware. We are normal, but I guess the stars don't suppose with a consciousness as thin as ours that they are supposed to be anything else but what they seem to be. In my mind is not our universe but it is mine within that which we share simultaneously - some points are marked out by now, then, and who knows when. I want to be confident within this mystery and walk amidst the rest with a strong sense of myself or at least secure enough to walk strongly fragmented with acceptance. I invite you all. Not you though. The one inside you. The one without a body. Remind me that our experience is not limited to these skin and bones.
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May 19, 2015
May 19, 2015 at 6:43 AM UTC
Evident Wasteland
Soft and warm sealed with care sweet and kind will ever share brave and strong yet so fair it's you it's always there sensitive to despair harkens to other welfare delicate it's elsewhere beautiful beyond compare if you meet her best beware she'll steal your heart unaware her name is love this i swear there's none like her anywhere
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Apr 13, 2015
Apr 13, 2015 at 10:26 PM UTC
Love
Cry out to the Lord for He is good His mercy and love are without end To the orphans and widows sinners and poor He is a friend Cry out with joy cry out in pain for every birth and when someone dies The Lord is merciful He harkens to our cries Justice and peace shall flourish tears will be wiped away Turn your face to the sky to the dawning of a new day For God is great and God is good we are precious in His eyes The Lord is merciful He harkens to our cries Hear the pleas of the faithful in a nation that has become lost Now we have so much power but it came at so great a cost We look for Your truth in a world that is feeding us lies The Lord is merciful He harkens to our cries Some have glimpsed where this road will eventually lead Sliding down the slope of lust power jealousy and greed We are crashing headlong speeding to our demise The Lord is merciful He harkens to our cries There is nothing we can do to fix this on our own But all things are possible with you, we are not alone Things look bleak but there is hope when we realize The Lord is merciful He harkens to our cries Send your Holy Fire change our hearts and heal our land Instill in us a love for you and a desire to obey your command Today we stand in Faith assured as in one voice we rise The Lord is merciful He harkens to our cries!
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Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 8:57 PM UTC
The Lord is merciful He harkens to our cries (A Psalm)