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"intercedes" poems
He was large as frogs go Fist-sized happy rotund dweller of backyard pond Garter snake large, too large with his ominous yellow stripes and jaws to take a larger than average mouthful Choked by abdomen's girth Legs drooling from his glut Before the victim's even hit his gut's digestive juices Kid with hockey stick makes him puck for his sin Frog makes  desperate slim swim for rocks Where he lies in recovery from shock and teeth marks on his belly Underdog gets defense from phone call-- Eve 150 miles away intercedes Frog gets mercy of a transport to another backwoods pond-- to find his life forgetting trauma Suns himself and swims Eats the bugs and ***** the froglettes of another day
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Aug 26, 2018
Aug 26, 2018 at 8:39 PM UTC
Underdog Frog
*a pear it was hanging alone ripened awaiting a fall.. her experience then many years remembered a radiant shape a pear and not with an afterglow.. now the memory one simple viewing intercedes with a Knowing hers alone within which her life finds flow compassion lives...*
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Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 9:57 PM UTC
The Pear
A sip of stillness listening for God moments... relax in the warmth of the "felt" love of Christ. He widens my vision to distinguish real importance transfusing me with His Power in my quest for that Pearl oh, yes, the Pearl of greatest price. Revitalize my love for God renew my thirst for His Word empower my prayers with wordless adoration.......... Overwhelmed the inhibition over the desert lay behind and off I am into the land of longing..... I do not cannot speak no words are necessary too paltry would they be. The dust that becomes the diamonds sprinkles and comes forth. Like the water lily I am basking in the sun of His Presence. I soak up His Love and His Tenderness. In this ecstasy words become unnecessary. Pain God's megaphone through which He speaks to a deaf world. (Which has shut Him out.) To give joyous hospitality we need silence a simple, prayerful silence belongs to everybody in our pousitinia* we desire to hear from our God that still small Voice the fulfilling ........... I will lead her into the desert and tenderly speak to her ** at a loss the Spirit intercedes for us with sighs too deep for words *** inexpressible longings God alone understands. Cj April 30, 2017
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Apr 30, 2017
Apr 30, 2017 at 5:36 PM UTC
A Yearning for....the Presence
What to do.. What to do, This silence of blue hues. The soundless color intercedes, and blocks my field of view. Lonely eyes inverted and blind. A coating worn so lightly. Irradiated silence... It seems to shine so brightly. Slumbered in solitude, caged in sky. For months I've been away. I hear them bellow, a promise of yellow, yet, regrettably I'll stay. Submerged and drowning slowly. Drip by drip inhaled. Oxygen deprived, and word wrapped stake impaled. I'll trip and stumble my way out. Eventually unleashed. For now my silenced eyes take lead, as I slip away from me.
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Oct 26, 2015
Oct 26, 2015 at 5:40 PM UTC
My Corner of Blue
Preparations by the Groom have been completed; He joyfully awaits the day that marks the remainder of eternity when the Church shall be swept away. He has created a wondrous place where rows of mansions are perfectly aligned. Angels will sing beautiful songs announcing souls' arrival; including yours and mine. Despite imperfections of His bride, the Lord daily intercedes with heartfelt prayer. The celestial wedding feast shall take place - Have you received your invitation, to be present there? Author Notes: From the book: Reaching Towards His Unbounded Glory The ISBN is: 1-4196-5051-3 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
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May 17, 2012
May 17, 2012 at 11:34 AM UTC
Poem: The Bridegroom Cometh
Slipping into darkened slumber Silver tensions ease to sigh, Dreaming intercedes with candor Prone, alone with sleep am I. Gentle snoring slides to tenor Rapid eyelids flutter bye, oblivion to deep surrender Gentle, velvet sleep am I. Dreams of rougely nippled sirens Plunging to a calming sea, Fleshed in swelling rings of passion Slumber's sister's hand on me. Deep down to abyss's chasm Deep into serene's pink calm, Gentle slumber's sensual finger Slides into oblivion's balm. Marshalg In repose 11 August 2011
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Aug 10, 2011
Aug 10, 2011 at 7:26 PM UTC
Shades of Slumber
*Night falls through a brooding glass Owls carries the fear of the day through an eerie sight Moon shines on and consoles the forgotten souls A Wolf howls from a Fearful hill The night takes its form and structure Ends and a new day begins* *A child is born and cries, he begins to die as each day fades Setting sun fades into*  COSMIC DEPTHS  *to rise again Sky turns from grey to silver, then black, then silver again DNA encodes within a man to start another clone of his Father Heart beats over and over again Yet the heart gets the smallest amount of blood All these Ends and a new life begins* *Birds tweet away the night's sorrow at dawn Rain cascades and falls on Earth's landscape, as it romances the air and kiss the window pane Families on sundays visit St Patrick's Cathedral and pray to God As they did four years ago and still do concurrently Women go naked to feed their damaged ego The little children watch them on TV and go with the pace Evil Fathers behind close doors Romance their little daughters And shut their mouth by threatening them with the knife While Mothers pray and intercedes for the world on bended knees While the moon hides and shy away from earth's darkness While no*  STARS GUIDE AN EVIL NIGHT All these too ends and begins in a never ending stream of continuity as long as we have breath ENDS AND BEGINS EVNA-LUNA© 2016 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
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Jul 27, 2016
Jul 27, 2016 at 4:10 PM UTC
"ENDS~•AND~•BEGINŠ"
Concealed Beauty a veiled smile Frightened moments of hope, rejecting all Fleeing from happiness, fear intercedes Raging rivers of doubt, intercepts commitment Sleepless nights provided by unmet desires Hopelessly, emotionally, wracked by emptiness Strained tears, sobs escape, tormented soul. Reach for empty spaces, realization explodes. Eruption of Self pity, self doubt, weep for wholeness Aimless wandering of the soul, searching all corners of the heart seeking happiness. Blurred noise, unanswered reflection. Stupor of drunkenness. Accidental encounter, strange calming voice, Caution thrown to the wind. Exhilarated moments of elation Imagination soars, excited moments of distant possibilities Heart found, secret desires fulfilled, sweet sweet silence. A lovers embrace, whisper passionate melodies of adoration, an enduring kiss. A lovers gaze, locked together for eternity, unbreakable emotion. Pure immeasurable love and friendship, happiness begins Regurgitated ****** from blackness, born new. Written by Edward Green 01/09/07
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Feb 2, 2012
Feb 2, 2012 at 11:03 PM UTC
******
i. dark curves, branches of a tree caught in a valley wind of tangling breath. ii everything unwinds summer pools into corners weeps for forgotten love. iii. this is a dark valley no ocean, no sky of song. iv. night intercedes lets its other-worldly nectars dissolve, unclasps me from these breaking seas.
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Jul 1, 2016
Jul 1, 2016 at 12:23 PM UTC
love poem
between her breast a vile she carries of a blind child's tears mixed with the dust of fairies giving off a warmth of comfort in her time of need a magical glow that intercedes her favorite time to go outside is when she hears a storm approaching she loves the feel of rain upon her face reminding her of nothing and that's something little missy needs to sooth her longing soul she would gladly trade all in life she's saved if for a moment true love she could hold
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Nov 4, 2013
Nov 4, 2013 at 7:11 AM UTC
~little missy~
In what light am I undone that morning stars lead you away and with the rising of the sun you bid farewell you cannot stay. For morn brings mourning to my eyes and here upon my trembling lips lie echos of those gentle sighs that with this night so gently slips. from hands that plead with lack of voice yet speak aloud both want and need for this is circumstance not choice that seperates and intercedes. Pray twilight hear my anguished heart and offer solace to my soul as I once more am torn apart without the love that makes me whole. So I with muted tongue your name pronounce as darkness kills stone dead our bliss and mornings manic smile doth trounce the chance of one last goodnight kiss.
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Jan 12, 2013
Jan 12, 2013 at 9:21 PM UTC
**** the Morn and Failing stars
you are a boy who misunderstood what a girl like me needs. all i need is friend who makes cabinets in the sun who runs marathon's for fun, and listen to my drumming beat. as the dump truck intercedes in a disturbing way. don't misunderstand what I say. what I say is lets be around when the family goes out for dinner when I'm too high to read a letter, meant for someone else. ALL there is between are to many streets when I'm out of gas, and need money to make, my dreams real.
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Nov 29, 2012
Nov 29, 2012 at 3:52 PM UTC
Friend
Young man only thirteen high before his dream's Taking doses of everything, Painpill here, something there, a few Soma's in between.... Daddy shouldn't of left out His first bottle there to begin with, Yet daddy gave his son those pills Sin's the son must live and tryeth to forget... And now the sky falls The earth to the boy quakes, Yet now a man he seeith all All the lies,pain , and heartbreak He found it out the hard way Making deal's in alleyway scene's, To many false Lovers to him They all telleth tales to maketh him believe... And so he continues to swallow down his white pills Just to feel some reality, wherein nothing else seemeth real!!! And though those round thing's aren't authentic, he does it from the pain, of all the farce one's that cometh again and again.... So he couldn't take none more,  that he got Trapped in a nightmare, of numbed out demonous plot.... He took a few last white tabs, swallowed them down, He blasted his music inside his room, blocked the door so he couldnt be found..... Took his belt, from his closet door, Wrapped it around his neck Couldn't get no genuine amare from noone, the next life out did he check.. .. As the invalidated he left behind to them a note, mum and dad and everyone, this life I didst not hope.... So his soul clicked, snapped outta his shirt, he fleweth away like a bird, only in his young age, a shock for everyone, for him they hadst no words..... Now he was a ghost!!! Their only word's were they were soo sad he hadst taken this way out, now at themselves they were mad, because it was them be was talking about.. How they hadst forgotten him, and all the stuff he hadst told... He was a young angel, who so young gave up soul... The boy who died a man, payeth a visit every now and then, He stoppeth in with the other suicide's of were hurt and heartbroken.... And up above the man canst seeith the Heartbreakers still break, Thinking in his mind he forgives them now, though their still fake. And yet though their fake, he intercedes to God for them in prayers. Because he's a true seraphim, he didn't even belong here... His character is unlike them, he was the truest to come around, And now the other's wilt knoweth the jewel whom they hadst let down... ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry
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Jul 10, 2015
Jul 10, 2015 at 5:36 AM UTC
The jewel gone to soon
Young man only thirteen high before his dream's Taking doses of everything, Painpill here, something there, a few Soma's in between.... Daddy shouldn't of left out His first bottle there to begin with, Yet daddy gave his son those pills Sin's the son must live and tryeth to forget... And now the sky falls The earth to the boy quakes, Yet now a man he seeith all All the lies,pain , and heartbreak He found it out the hard way Making deal's in alleyway scene's, To many false Lovers to him They all telleth tales to maketh him believe... And so he continues to swallow down his white pills Just to feel some reality, wherein nothing else seemeth real!!! And though those round thing's aren't authentic, he does it from the pain, of all the farce one's that cometh again and again.... So he couldn't take none more,  that he got Trapped in a nightmare, of numbed out demonous plot.... He took a few last white tabs, swallowed them down, He blasted his music inside his room, blocked the door so he couldnt be found..... Took his belt, from his closet door, Wrapped it around his neck Couldn't get no genuine amare from noone, the next life out did he check.. .. As the invalidated he left behind to them a note, mum and dad and everyone, this life I didst not hope.... So his soul clicked, snapped outta his shirt, he fleweth away like a bird, only in his young age, a shock for everyone, for him they hadst no words..... Now he was a ghost!!! Their only word's were they were soo sad he hadst taken this way out, now at themselves they were mad, because it was them be was talking about.. How they hadst forgotten him, and all the stuff he hadst told... He was a young angel, who so young gave up soul... The boy who died a man, payeth a visit every now and then, He stoppeth in with the other suicide's of were hurt and heartbroken.... And up above the man canst seeith the Heartbreakers still break, Thinking in his mind he forgives them now, though their still fake. And yet though their fake, he intercedes to God for them in prayers. Because he's a true seraphim, he didn't even belong here... His character is unlike them, he was the truest to come around, And now the other's wilt knoweth the jewel whom they hadst let down... ©Brandon nagley ©Lonesome poet's poetry
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The Conqueror of sin and death returned, ascended to His Throne, His Father‘s side, where now He intercedes for His bought bride, as having, through His blood, grace for her earned. But one day soon He‘ll stand again on Earth. He‘ll reign supremely as its Judge and King. Set timer on sin‘s insolence will ring, and ev‘ryone shall see Christ‘s matchless worth! The blazing eyes of LORD/Judge/King will harden as man‘s rebellion‘s snuffed with holy fire— the proud, indiff‘rent, carnal, thief and liar, whoever has not fled to Christ for pardon. So “kiss the Son“ or face Him with your sin. “Blessed are all who take refuge in Him.“
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Apr 21, 2022
Apr 21, 2022 at 12:21 PM UTC
On the Mount of Olives (Sonnet)
I'm sorry for what I've done So tired I can no longer run Broken down on the wrong side of hope Forever Just a lot of todays And even more tomorrows Forever without hope Is like winter without a coat Fight for light With you Forever is a friend May we experience a lot of todays And even more tomorrows Fighting for the One who Fights for us Who intercedes on our behalf Who brings us back to Hope Fight for that light my Love For it only comes from above I don't deserve you And especially not Him All I can give is my love My todays and my tomorrows I will always love you Forever
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Mar 5, 2014
Mar 5, 2014 at 1:47 PM UTC
Fight for Light
Wonder Woman has her standards... and Supergirl has hers, The Christian woman has God's words... each chapter and each verse... Each proverb, psalm and prophecy... and God's amazing grace, Salvation found at Calvary... where miracles took place... The Christian woman has God's love... no other love comes close, The tender Saviour smiles above... when such love overflows... The Holy Spirit grants her gifts... to bless her ministry And that is why her spirit lifts... and says, 'The Lord loves me!' She seeks the Lord in all she does... she intercedes as well, She listens as the men discuss the truths God seeks to tell... She blesses others when she can... like Mother Mary could, Because she knows God has a plan... to use her for the good... The Christian woman does her best... compassion fills her heart, That's why, sometimes, she needs to rest... because she played her part... Praise God for her... and those like her... that Jesus will save, too... If you're like her, then you're super! No wonder God loves YOU! Denis Martindale International Women's Day, the 8th of March 2018.
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May 2, 2018
May 2, 2018 at 10:24 AM UTC
WONDER WOMAN, SUPERGIRL AND MORE!
Sometimes My greatest strength Requires surrender of weight Trusting a Higher Power Intercedes to lift While I maintain faith © JL Smith
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Aug 23, 2018
Aug 23, 2018 at 12:08 PM UTC
Surrendering for Faith
As I laid in bed last night I began to pray My mind started wandering from subject to subject As it had been a busy day My brain could not think of the names Of some of those of whose care for I wished to pray I had many concerns and desires you see I floated into the dream world for awhile Then I awoke, the names I could not remember before Became so clear to me With just a moment rest The Spirit opened the door of my memory If you don't remember the words Just give Him your trust He is so very gracious ROMANS 8:26-27 In the same way, The Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with Gods will.
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Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 10:19 AM UTC
HOLY SPIRIT GUIDE MY WAY
Sometimes I think my hand and heart come together in dark corners to have hushed conversations about what to write. Brain intercedes to tell them they can't do it without him and he should always be consulted. Heart and hand run away when brain's not looking and write the first thing they can think of. Full of themselves, they saunter back into the room to show brain their work and stare upon the page in dismay - this was not what they had imagined!! Somehow the meaning has got lost in translation. Brain looks on smugly 'told you. You should've consulted me' Hand and heart are suitably chastised.
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Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 8:46 AM UTC
Gibberish
enough damage has been done send our condolences to yonder sun its yellow mask to beaches bask killing purity as it stains and sinks down in so hard to love but impossible to despise, this overbearing sphere of flame dismiss us to the caves and underground places, tis unright to see all the faces that tilt up to gaze but turn sideways, a myth of blindness intercedes ingrates people children users misers lovers keepers sleepers (oh, grey skies, will the sun die with us?) -cj
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Aug 17, 2014
Aug 17, 2014 at 10:24 PM UTC
why won't the sun die?
The beauty of all I see Changes my reality The hills are hand made With a beauty that'll never fade The sky is painted With an ink never tainted The fields are wonderfully woven With the best plants chosen The sea with its powerful allure Has the heart captivated Yet with all the majesty and grandeur There is another beauty unanticipated The true beauty of a lady A beauty without any fallacy A beauty born from her deeds It is in a lady who intercedes A lady who will always pray A lady who lets God have His way There is nothing more attractive Or that makes a heart so reactive Than a lady with a Godly life Who would not focus on strife Who has heard the Maker's voice And follows Him by her choice Lord make me a Godly man That I may attract a Godly lady Lord help me to follow Your plan I will enjoy every day of Your beauty
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Dec 22, 2015
Dec 22, 2015 at 1:48 AM UTC
Hand-Made
I want my conscience to scream at me the things I don't want to hear. Unleash hidden phobia's that dwell in the back of my mind, behind the list of "Things to Don't" and cleverly though-out processes that are supposed to get me through the day. I'd like a choir of voices in harmony chanting at me, "You're not listening, you're not listening, you're not listening! when I begin to allow all of my daily life to become the product of a carefully calculated equation that's imploding with equivocal nonsense that brews beneath the surface that you're slowly drowning under. I want to wake up. I want to wake up and know that I awoke from a dream; a dream that stripped me of my pride, wore and tore me down. I want to wake up with the realization that it was always ME who filled the void and did it consciously. I need no illusion. Yet the illusion is what intercedes my trust and my predetermined path to a tainted utopia. You know, it's that place where angels go to die and people take off their shoes at the door only to still track mud made out of unfinished aspirations all over the youth-stained carpet. Why is it so hard to let it go, to let go of what I thought I knew. A self I thought I was; A book on a shelf I thought I read which said, "Free of Body, Free of Mind"; I want to free myself, from myself.
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Apr 5, 2015
Apr 5, 2015 at 8:00 PM UTC
Note to Self
Time passes as my name must be a long gone Memory Stars die out, as you must tire from my apology A singular, repetitive one, in a hope you say Hello one day That we meet again, you look my way, and for one time to say "I love you." Constantly seen messages, Constant messenger pigeons They console me, gently chide, tell me to let be Yet every time it blurs my vision That the prospect to becoming a lover and father one day is tearing me apart To use my youth denies accountability, blame others ruins my integrity, To say my mouth had enough, disregards the truth My words followed the dark path my heart made, My youth turned adult Can time, that heals wounds, still turn me into captivity Where my own bedroom feels like a peaceful prison? Can it be so easy to hate everyone, and wish they'd die? Even the ones I love who I wish expire and live in the sky? That my begging, tearful nature, is a crutch, and turns my fleeting independence To a childish dependence On others to send you messages I wish I could do myself I believe God will bring her back, and bring me peace But do I deserve such a charitable Deed? I pray, cry and hope indeed That his divined intervention intercedes That a measly 7 months of silence Can never compare to an eternity where death doesnt guarantee our souls meet Tested by my patience Willing to lose the sheep and honey bees of this world For the bunny I sold away in anger
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Jan 2, 2025
Jan 2, 2025 at 6:22 PM UTC
Statute of Limitation
̶ After J. L. Storie Remembering the joys of motherhood – Putting on pajamas, picking up clothes, Brushing teeth, bedtime drink of water. They’re on a sugar high, giggles, night Time hassles, hamming it up, stories – Grade school delirium and horseplay. Two little girls about to fall asleep, but Full of joy and a day’s activities to tell Whoever will listen – important stories. Even boys are part of the drama – love, Marriage, movies, lords and ladies – The stuff girls talk about with grandma. Breakfast time comes soon, and planning For the day begins – rain prevents going For a swim – let’s pretend suffices. Building forts using blankets and pillows, Playing doctor with grandma’s cat – its Willingness to play in doubt. Imagination is soon drained, and real Play intercedes – grandma’s dresser the Home of props for growing up. Jewelry, half-slip, ******* socks stuffed In bra to simulate ******* – dress-up is Fun, but like in all games, interest wanes. The sun comes out, and two young “Aquabats” squeal with delight – Grandma is coaxed into water-sliding. Three female bodies slide quickly into A few feet of water and dog paddle To nearby poolside safety. Grandma is reminded of her days – fifty Years ago – when she and her own sister Played at Esther Williams swim routines. These dances, which enliven, rejuvenate, And bond – stories of family evolution – Bring treasured hours of utter joy. © Lewis Bosworth, 4/2018
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Jun 21, 2018
Jun 21, 2018 at 7:57 PM UTC
Dances with Granddaughters