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"mandate" poems
The stewardship of talent calls attention for everyone to discover their purpose on earth, knowing we are created with potentials waiting to be maximized. The stewardship of time calls attention for everyone to maximize their time on earth, knowing we are mandated to dominate and subdue the earth. Nothing is found except it is hidden, every one has a talent. Nothing is hidden except it is a secret, every person has a gift. Nothing is a secret except it is a treasure, every individual has a potential. Every one has a secret hidden treasure to be found, ln them lives unique talents waiting to be discovered; lf only they can discover their purpose on earth. Every person has a destined mission to accomplish, ln them lives voices waiting to be heard; lf only they can activate their gifts. Every individual has a solution to provide on earth, ln them lives great potentials waiting to be maximized; lf only they can exploit their potentials. How then can talents be discovered knowing that any talent wasted will be accounted for. How then can gifts be activated knowing that we are mandated by God to accomplish a purpose on earth. How then can potentials be maximized knowing that we are created to impact our generation. Let him that seek to discover and utilize his talents on earth consult God through prayers. Let him that seek to activate his gifts exploit God's given innate ability to man. Let him that seek to maximize his potentials on earth search the mind of God through the scriptures. Is there any reward for discovering and exploiting your talents? Is there any reward for activating your innate gifts? Is there any reward for maximizing your God given potentials? He that discovers and exploits his talents for God will receive the Masters reward. He that activates his innate gifts will be remembered forever. He that maximizes his potentials will leave an indelible footstep on earth. Hope you strive to be persistent and consistent in the stewardship of talent, knowing that much is required of you. Endeavour to be faithful and obedient in your stewardship of talent, knowing we all owe God the accountability of our talents. Ensure you exploit the discovery of your talents, activate your innate gifts and maximize your potentials effectively. Strive to discover your purpose on earth, Seek to activate your talents and gifts; and Strive to maximize your potentials. He that discovers and exploits his talents on earth, will leave an indelible footprint on the sands of time that will be remembered forever. He that activates his gifts on earth will impact the world and his generation. He that maximizes his potentials effectively, will engrave his names in the sands of time and seasons of the sky. Talent is a Mandate not a Delegate.
0
Sep 1, 2013
Sep 1, 2013 at 6:49 PM UTC
Stewardship Of Talent
The stewardship of talent calls attention for everyone to discover their purpose on earth, knowing we are created with potentials waiting to be maximized. The stewardship of time calls attention for everyone to maximize their time on earth, knowing we are mandated to dominate and subdue the earth. Nothing is found except it is hidden, every one has a talent. Nothing is hidden except it is a secret, every person has a gift. Nothing is a secret except it is a treasure, every individual has a potential. Every one has a secret hidden treasure to be found, ln them lives unique talents waiting to be discovered; lf only they can discover their purpose on earth. Every person has a destined mission to accomplish, ln them lives voices waiting to be heard; lf only they can activate their gifts. Every individual has a solution to provide on earth, ln them lives great potentials waiting to be maximized; lf only they can exploit their potentials. How then can talents be discovered knowing that any talent wasted will be accounted for. How then can gifts be activated knowing that we are mandated by God to accomplish a purpose on earth. How then can potentials be maximized knowing that we are created to impact our generation. Let him that seek to discover and utilize his talents on earth consult God through prayers. Let him that seek to activate his gifts exploit God's given innate ability to man. Let him that seek to maximize his potentials on earth search the mind of God through the scriptures. Is there any reward for discovering and exploiting your talents? Is there any reward for activating your innate gifts? Is there any reward for maximizing your God given potentials? He that discovers and exploits his talents for God will receive the Masters reward. He that activates his innate gifts will be remembered forever. He that maximizes his potentials will leave an indelible footstep on earth. Hope you strive to be persistent and consistent in the stewardship of talent, knowing that much is required of you. Endeavour to be faithful and obedient in your stewardship of talent, knowing we all owe God the accountability of our talents. Ensure you exploit the discovery of your talents, activate your innate gifts and maximize your potentials effectively. Strive to discover your purpose on earth, Seek to activate your talents and gifts; and Strive to maximize your potentials. He that discovers and exploits his talents on earth, will leave an indelible footprint on the sands of time that will be remembered forever. He that activates his gifts on earth will impact the world and his generation. He that maximizes his potentials effectively, will engrave his names in the sands of time and seasons of the sky. Talent is a Mandate not a Delegate.
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45
The virtuous society Lost regulates overwhelming                                DISTASTEFUL                                Condescension Depraved citizens all contained then become cynical                                BREAKING                                 Reprehension A mandate or suggestive guideline to think like a criminal
0
Nov 25, 2014
Nov 25, 2014 at 5:56 PM UTC
Savvy in 2014
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance. Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique. What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion. Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression. We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms. There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all. We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural. Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate. Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success. The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race. How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’. So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for. Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism. It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism. Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights. This is mandate. The republic for which we stand. Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us.
0
Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:04 PM UTC
Mercenary Mendacity
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance. Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique. What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion. Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression. We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms. There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all. We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural. Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate. Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success. The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race. How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’. So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for. Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism. It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism. Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights. This is mandate. The republic for which we stand. Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us.
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18
As the growing world unraveled And I began the dismal ascension of maturity I stumbled out the  fog of childhood And there you were: Advice to head and educate A Battlecry and a Mandate. Faith; in things to happen yet Strength in knowledge- hope in regret; Stories expressing casually: Evils impartiality. and tales of golden fantasies How no drug is ever stronger than me. These few phrases I imagine, you see Into dreams only I can keep. from start until the seventh day Waking hour's dreamless sleep. **Oh how you cushion the destruction- the entrancement of seduction to paint to play to grow to teach Expression extending as I reach**.
0
Mar 29, 2019
Mar 29, 2019 at 3:28 AM UTC
The Expression
Tip Your hat And curtsy low The masses so mandate absolute guile A handshake, a smile, a proper and refined bow! To adorn thy head and semble wit And do your best! Take pride with etiquette If not informed Ye won't last a mile And differentiation between animals distinguishes you, Resplendent child Wash your hair and underclothes with soap Lest ye resemble sow And goodness dear Have I forgotten now? Always remember to smile! So I'll take your Winter clothes with zest I'll scramble on point No unruly mess Oh, did i forget your coat? No, I've got it, relax, care for a smoke? My apologies, please forgive my latency It must be warm in here for my blood In fact... Boiling over kettle within Prevent me from committing sin I do wish to vent Pick up this pen And release red wells from his dainty, fragile neck Or... The underbelly. It's beknownst to me entrails are thick Now whatever shall I do with this fresh clutter? I'll act for free, so cordially! With my chivalrous lines But can you, my friend, respond in kind? After all, it's only common courtesy It's over now, my fantasy It dissipates with urgency And this is my confession Yes Imbibed in me from every grueling, tedious lesson An implication of uniformity The daydreams borne from the perfunctory
0
Jun 30, 2014
Jun 30, 2014 at 7:56 PM UTC
Daydream From August 11th, 1843
#*Multitudes will be liberated by that recognition; and although multitudes obtain liberation in that manner, the number of sentient beings being great, evil karma powerful, obscurations dense, propensities o too long standing, the Wheel of Ignorance and Illusion becometh neither exhausted nor accelerated*.            The Tibetan Book of the Dead           translation:  Lāma Kazi Dawa-Samdup Free Tibet your sticker tells me… Yes, I think, perhaps I should – and the noble thought compels me, uninformed, half-understood. Will their freedom help my Karma? Upgrade my reincarnation? (Soul who could not dare to harm a fly… much less a Buddhist nation.) Not to justify aggression by the ever-brutal Commies, let us grant no glib concession to the Maoists – or their mommies. Slogans echo in the void, shining in bardos of the dead; stopped by the light, I am annoyed impatient for the change from red. A bumper crop of human woe beams forth a mandate to my brain while red Dakinis circle slow in Buddhist hells of karmic pain. The eastern concepts here diverge and bow before brutality. They make this driver long to merge with incorporeality. Then I glimpse a monkish fellow swathed in saffron, calmly seated. His, the cloud-borne sage’s pillow; mine the traffic; stalled, defeated. In his gaze of stern displeasure I perceive the orient stars calculating man’s mismeasure trapped, exhausted, among the cars. Flanked by Spirits wreathed in fire he extends an accusing hand: Western slave of base desire: come and  liberate my land !” I meditate before the stop light: am I ready for the task ? Should I just refuse it outright Can’t it be someone else ?  I ask… Must I free this mountain nation from the Buddha, demons and Reds? Shall your sticker’s declaration shatter the yoke and raise their heads ? Somebody ought to free Tibet, and heed this Himalayan cry. Maybe we should get upset… The red light changes. Cars pass by, predestined for benign events and unconcerned for persecution; oblivious to dissidents awaiting execution.
0
Dec 14, 2015
Dec 14, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC
Exhausted Karma
#*Multitudes will be liberated by that recognition; and although multitudes obtain liberation in that manner, the number of sentient beings being great, evil karma powerful, obscurations dense, propensities o too long standing, the Wheel of Ignorance and Illusion becometh neither exhausted nor accelerated*.            The Tibetan Book of the Dead           translation:  Lāma Kazi Dawa-Samdup Free Tibet your sticker tells me… Yes, I think, perhaps I should – and the noble thought compels me, uninformed, half-understood. Will their freedom help my Karma? Upgrade my reincarnation? (Soul who could not dare to harm a fly… much less a Buddhist nation.) Not to justify aggression by the ever-brutal Commies, let us grant no glib concession to the Maoists – or their mommies. Slogans echo in the void, shining in bardos of the dead; stopped by the light, I am annoyed impatient for the change from red. A bumper crop of human woe beams forth a mandate to my brain while red Dakinis circle slow in Buddhist hells of karmic pain. The eastern concepts here diverge and bow before brutality. They make this driver long to merge with incorporeality. Then I glimpse a monkish fellow swathed in saffron, calmly seated. His, the cloud-borne sage’s pillow; mine the traffic; stalled, defeated. In his gaze of stern displeasure I perceive the orient stars calculating man’s mismeasure trapped, exhausted, among the cars. Flanked by Spirits wreathed in fire he extends an accusing hand: Western slave of base desire: come and  liberate my land !” I meditate before the stop light: am I ready for the task ? Should I just refuse it outright Can’t it be someone else ?  I ask… Must I free this mountain nation from the Buddha, demons and Reds? Shall your sticker’s declaration shatter the yoke and raise their heads ? Somebody ought to free Tibet, and heed this Himalayan cry. Maybe we should get upset… The red light changes. Cars pass by, predestined for benign events and unconcerned for persecution; oblivious to dissidents awaiting execution.
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59
They put us in glass boxes And empty rooms with glass ceilings We conform to make our ends, and we learn to muffle our feelings Their inventions age into Standards, and they sell us their finest wine for a fee No prison for this Queen 'Cause I like my ******* free... They applaud our independance at first Then tell us we are now too proud Our voices once unheard are now suddenly too loud Make sure you please the people No heels too high, and no skirt above the knee I wear no bra to imprison my womanhood 'Cause I like my ******* free... Jiggle jiggle with hard ******* let them bounce naturally I am every bit of my roots- I'm ***** happily I'm not ashamed of their smallness Despite their size, they  stand as firm and tall as mountain peaks They're embarassed or jealous of my freedom 'Cause I like my ******* free...    Big or small, short or tall, even if one is size 'A' and the other 'B' They are our imperfect perfections They belong to you, they belong to me Our country has learned to dictate through mandate While they ********** themselves to higher power I'm not ashamed of my nakedness and I look in the mirror after my shower So if you think I need a bra Then I will tell you you need to be imprisoned My mind is mine, as is my body and they will never take my vision They try to smother what they don't understand I'm just evolving into the best Me I know who and what I am... ...And I just happen to like my ******* to be free.
0
May 5, 2010
May 5, 2010 at 1:28 PM UTC
I Like My ******* Free
The casket was coming up, swaying and wobbling Like a novice skater’s layover spin, The workings proceeding apace, The stillness of the August heat Punctuated by disinterested growl of the backhoe, The occasional out-of-place jocularity by the excavators The creaky jingle of the chains holding the muddied box As it proceeded skyward in its clumsy poor-man’s Resurrection. The affair was being observed by an elderly couple, Old enough to be of no particular age.   Their car had Carolina plates, But their inflections, their casually-tossed idioms They noted that ruefully The grass needs mowed) Marked them as natives. They’d returned (Last time, most likely, The wife uttered mournfully) To take their son with them; he’d drowned when was five? six? (The years will do that to a body, apparently) In Kinzua Creek some half-century ago, Back when little boys weren’t under a mandate To be safe from themselves, as it were.   He was our boy! We’ve never forgotten him! The old man said, the words snapping off In a manner that spoke of something else altogether, How the whistle at the Montmorenci Went off at three and eleven for second shift, And your *** had better be there, As those were good jobs that didn’t wait for bereavement leave, Because there was always someone Just itching to take your spot on the line, And anyway life went on, At least in the sense that television screens went all to snow And tires went flat and fuses blew And eventually a dead child Is not always in the forefront of your thoughts, Only tiptoeing in when the Press ran a picture Of the Montmorenci Area Class of whenever, Or there was an item about some other family Who opened their front door To a grim sheriff’s deputy with his hat in his hand.   Eventually, after some time And in defiance of both the odds and gravity, The casket was settled into the back Of the undertaker’s huge old black Caddy, And the couple cane-toddled back to their car, Following out the through the old spider-like gates And onto the main road. The brief procession fading from sight, Until there was nothing left to see Save the hillsides covered in old growth pine.
0
Sep 21, 2018
Sep 21, 2018 at 11:00 AM UTC
the disinterment
The casket was coming up, swaying and wobbling Like a novice skater’s layover spin, The workings proceeding apace, The stillness of the August heat Punctuated by disinterested growl of the backhoe, The occasional out-of-place jocularity by the excavators The creaky jingle of the chains holding the muddied box As it proceeded skyward in its clumsy poor-man’s Resurrection. The affair was being observed by an elderly couple, Old enough to be of no particular age.   Their car had Carolina plates, But their inflections, their casually-tossed idioms They noted that ruefully The grass needs mowed) Marked them as natives. They’d returned (Last time, most likely, The wife uttered mournfully) To take their son with them; he’d drowned when was five? six? (The years will do that to a body, apparently) In Kinzua Creek some half-century ago, Back when little boys weren’t under a mandate To be safe from themselves, as it were.   He was our boy! We’ve never forgotten him! The old man said, the words snapping off In a manner that spoke of something else altogether, How the whistle at the Montmorenci Went off at three and eleven for second shift, And your *** had better be there, As those were good jobs that didn’t wait for bereavement leave, Because there was always someone Just itching to take your spot on the line, And anyway life went on, At least in the sense that television screens went all to snow And tires went flat and fuses blew And eventually a dead child Is not always in the forefront of your thoughts, Only tiptoeing in when the Press ran a picture Of the Montmorenci Area Class of whenever, Or there was an item about some other family Who opened their front door To a grim sheriff’s deputy with his hat in his hand.   Eventually, after some time And in defiance of both the odds and gravity, The casket was settled into the back Of the undertaker’s huge old black Caddy, And the couple cane-toddled back to their car, Following out the through the old spider-like gates And onto the main road. The brief procession fading from sight, Until there was nothing left to see Save the hillsides covered in old growth pine.
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50
I'm a menace, baby, menace Mess with me I'm a furnace Come near Imma put you in flames I **** baby, **** But you still adore me Rather fill yourself up Then give me up You're a zombie I'm the poison That's keeping you there You're lustful for everything in the world My seeds plant desire in your mind Keeping you hungry for more Money, baby, money Your god, your mandate, your sacred script
0
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 10:25 AM UTC
A Love Letter to the Capitalist
As culled from an arts magazine, 13 March 2019 Socialist Realism - The official doctrine in Soviet art and literature after 1932 that evolved from the traditional commitment to social and civic concerns into an all-pervasive general ideological mandate.             -Yevgeny Yevtushenko, 20th Century Russian Poetry collective exhibition space vibe community interactive narrative brown neighborhood defined commodified Indigenous identity tone-deaf decolonial narratives populist intertwined exhibition curatorial vision culture local artists arts district small galleries DIY spaces speaking out against gentrification displacing shelter studio space elsewhere late stage capitalism collective mantra underdog art savior corporate entity partnering insensitive ignorant collective brown people art contemporary work that may not fit into establishment art galleries media advisory venture collaborate creative community authentic local statement of expression excitement creative energy arts district project many levels collaborate local creative important creative community what that collaboration looks like ongoing local artists going to be engaged in planning commissioned project community buy-in consulted members of the creative community Indigenous artists curators museum directors professors burgeoning landscape cultural framework critique talk individuals entities inclusivity open dialogue opportunities project conversations collaboration discuss your projects share our work with you common ground work together healthy sustainable accountable decolonization
0
Mar 16, 2019
Mar 16, 2019 at 5:41 PM UTC
A Contemporary Vocabulary for Writers and Artists
As culled from an arts magazine, 13 March 2019 Socialist Realism - The official doctrine in Soviet art and literature after 1932 that evolved from the traditional commitment to social and civic concerns into an all-pervasive general ideological mandate.             -Yevgeny Yevtushenko, 20th Century Russian Poetry collective exhibition space vibe community interactive narrative brown neighborhood defined commodified Indigenous identity tone-deaf decolonial narratives populist intertwined exhibition curatorial vision culture local artists arts district small galleries DIY spaces speaking out against gentrification displacing shelter studio space elsewhere late stage capitalism collective mantra underdog art savior corporate entity partnering insensitive ignorant collective brown people art contemporary work that may not fit into establishment art galleries media advisory venture collaborate creative community authentic local statement of expression excitement creative energy arts district project many levels collaborate local creative important creative community what that collaboration looks like ongoing local artists going to be engaged in planning commissioned project community buy-in consulted members of the creative community Indigenous artists curators museum directors professors burgeoning landscape cultural framework critique talk individuals entities inclusivity open dialogue opportunities project conversations collaboration discuss your projects share our work with you common ground work together healthy sustainable accountable decolonization
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36
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’ So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights This is mandate The republic for which we stand Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us
0
Nov 9, 2013
Nov 9, 2013 at 7:25 AM UTC
Mercenary Mendacity
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’ So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights This is mandate The republic for which we stand Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us
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18
Treacherously torrid torrential tempestuous The warrior on the mountain confessed to us Sordid sully suborn salacious Only the worst will ever keep pace with us In extremis extremity exigence exodus Is the answer clear to all of us Intuitional intrepid impetus intrigue Spontaneity's tortoise trauma fatigue Heuristic horizon hornswoggle huckster Or just another cauldron muck stir Mystical magical manumission mandate That only the good would ever relate date Fornicating fecund finite's fate I can only hope it will be I rate Tirade treatise's transpicuous treachery Adjunct juxtaposition may get the best of me Estranged ensemble's ethereal expletive Won't be contained, like water in a sieve Wanton wayward warrantee wrangled And all of that surreal newfangled Omnipresent omnificent omniscient omnipotence How I wish I could float its boat sense
0
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 5:54 AM UTC
Oblique Assault
These Great Reviver’s wild reforms Now sound like all Hot Air, Narendra Modi’s new India Still bogged down in despair. Shinzo Abe’s revised Japan Still wallows to stagnate And China’s Xi Jinping’s grand scheme Continues to deflate. Collectively they stumble In their plans to stimulate Asia’s great economies….. But have failed to shut the gate On the Shadow Banking industry, Their vague structural reform And the fossilized grey politics Which resemble, now, the norm. Rhetoric is their keynote here Real action’s in decline With their mandate clearly squandered There’s A BIG CRASH DOWN THE LINE! M. Auckland 23 August 2014
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Aug 22, 2014
Aug 22, 2014 at 8:24 PM UTC
All Hot Air in Asia
Jam non consilio bonus, sed more eo perductus, ut non tantum recte facere possim, sed nisi recte facere non possim (Seneca, Letters 130.10) Stern Daughter of the Voice of God! O Duty! if that name thou love Who art a light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove; Thou, who art victory and law When empty terrors overawe; From vain temptations dost set free; And calm’st the weary strife of frail humanity! There are who ask not if thine eye Be on them; who, in love and truth, Where no misgiving is, rely Upon the genial sense of youth: Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot; Who do thy work, and know it not: Oh! if through confidence misplaced They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them cast. Serene will be our days and bright, And happy will our nature be, When love is an unerring light, And joy its own security. And they a blissful course may hold Even now, who, not unwisely bold, Live in the spirit of this creed; Yet seek thy firm support, according to their need. I, loving freedom, and untried; No sport of every random gust, Yet being to myself a guide, Too blindly have reposed my trust: And oft, when in my heart was heard Thy timely mandate, I deferred The task, in smoother walks to stray; But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may. Through no disturbance of my soul, Or strong compunction in me wrought, I supplicate for thy control; But in the quietness of thought: Me this unchartered freedom tires; I feel the weight of chance-desires: My hopes no more must change their name, I long for a repose that ever is the same. Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead’s most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong. To humbler functions, awful Power! I call thee: I myself commend Unto thy guidance from this hour; Oh, let my weakness have an end! Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice; The confidence of reason give; And in the light of truth thy Bondman let me live!
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2.4k
Ode To Duty
Jam non consilio bonus, sed more eo perductus, ut non tantum recte facere possim, sed nisi recte facere non possim (Seneca, Letters 130.10) Stern Daughter of the Voice of God! O Duty! if that name thou love Who art a light to guide, a rod To check the erring, and reprove; Thou, who art victory and law When empty terrors overawe; From vain temptations dost set free; And calm’st the weary strife of frail humanity! There are who ask not if thine eye Be on them; who, in love and truth, Where no misgiving is, rely Upon the genial sense of youth: Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot; Who do thy work, and know it not: Oh! if through confidence misplaced They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them cast. Serene will be our days and bright, And happy will our nature be, When love is an unerring light, And joy its own security. And they a blissful course may hold Even now, who, not unwisely bold, Live in the spirit of this creed; Yet seek thy firm support, according to their need. I, loving freedom, and untried; No sport of every random gust, Yet being to myself a guide, Too blindly have reposed my trust: And oft, when in my heart was heard Thy timely mandate, I deferred The task, in smoother walks to stray; But thee I now would serve more strictly, if I may. Through no disturbance of my soul, Or strong compunction in me wrought, I supplicate for thy control; But in the quietness of thought: Me this unchartered freedom tires; I feel the weight of chance-desires: My hopes no more must change their name, I long for a repose that ever is the same. Stern Lawgiver! yet thou dost wear The Godhead’s most benignant grace; Nor know we anything so fair As is the smile upon thy face: Flowers laugh before thee on their beds And fragrance in thy footing treads; Thou dost preserve the stars from wrong; And the most ancient heavens, through Thee, are fresh and strong. To humbler functions, awful Power! I call thee: I myself commend Unto thy guidance from this hour; Oh, let my weakness have an end! Give unto me, made lowly wise, The spirit of self-sacrifice; The confidence of reason give; And in the light of truth thy Bondman let me live!
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59
Since adolescence I have been an insomniac, something sought after these days, by ignorance masquerading itself as open-mindedness. An hour to me is not an hour to you. The same standards apply, only because those restrictions can not be lifted. Such a beautiful tragedy, concerning a man made mandate, that dictates calendar years and sixty second intervals. The sound a scribble makes at three in the morning is a continuing story of dark circles and ever slowly forming indentations that are everlasting countenances. The sound dead leaves make as they're stepped on quickly shows a path yet to be discovered, leading to an uncovered face formed by bark, mottled with sweat as sweet as syrup. A petrified face. Covering a worn sponge. One willing to grow and absorb. A tired brain. Swimming in Dextromethorphan. Controlling a hand that extends to yawn. After counting sixty sheep, I'll start my next interval. One nod to know it worked.
0
Nov 20, 2016
Nov 20, 2016 at 3:15 PM UTC
Petrified Sheep Carved From Wood
Can violence be countered Only by violence? To be equals, we must riot To be just, we must fight Why every government every state Furthers the hate mandate Even To show love we must **** Or the enemies will We say we want justice and peace Why, why then this malice? Where does our heart lie As we slaughter and die?
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Sep 22, 2015
Sep 22, 2015 at 6:42 AM UTC
Violence with Violence
A poor perception of Christianity is the ongoing failure of the Faith to treat all people evenly within… a circle of inclusion; who will see past the shortcomings of humanity, in order to spiritually grow? Ideas of our accountability, accompanied by genuine, personal responsibility dictate that we treat every soul in the same manner of Love, without thoughts of the trivial attributes that separate us; under the control of God’s Kingdom, we remain equals. Since we’re supposed to serve one another, shouldn’t we help everyone with a mandate to perform God’s will?
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Sep 5, 2017
Sep 5, 2017 at 9:25 AM UTC
Poem: Circle of Inclusion
While deep you mourn beneath the cypress-shade The hand of Death, and your dear daughter laid In dust, whose absence gives your tears to flow, And racks your ***** with incessant woe, Let Recollection take a tender part, Assuage the raging tortures of your heart, Still the wild tempest of tumultuous grief, And pour the heav’nly nectar of relief: Suspend the sigh, dear Sir, and check the groan, Divinely bright your daughter’s Virtues shone: How free from scornful pride her gentle mind, Which ne’er its aid to indigence declin’d! Expanding free, it sought the means to prove Unfailing charity, unbounded love! She unreluctant flies to see no more Her dear-lov’d parents on earth’s dusky shore: Impatient heav’n’s resplendent goal to gain, She with swift progress cuts the azure plain, Where grief subsides, where changes are no more, And life’s tumultuous billows cease to roar; She leaves her earthly mansion for the skies, Where new creations feast her wond’ring eyes. To heav’n’s high mandate cheerfully resign’d She mounts, and leaves the rolling globe behind; She, who late wish’d that Leonard might return, Has ceas’d to languish, and forgot to mourn; To the same high empyreal mansions come, She joins her spouse, and smiles upon the tomb: And thus I hear her from the realms above: “Lo! this the kingdom of celestial love! “Could ye, fond parents, see our present bliss, “How soon would you each sigh, each fear dismiss? “Amidst unutter’d pleasures whilst I play “In the fair sunshine of celestial day, “As far as grief affects an happy soul “So far doth grief my better mind controul, “To see on earth my aged parents mourn, “And secret wish for T——! to return: “Let brighter scenes your ev’ning-hours employ: “Converse with heav’n, and taste the promis’d joy”
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To The Honourable T. H. Esq; On The Death Of His Daughter
While deep you mourn beneath the cypress-shade The hand of Death, and your dear daughter laid In dust, whose absence gives your tears to flow, And racks your ***** with incessant woe, Let Recollection take a tender part, Assuage the raging tortures of your heart, Still the wild tempest of tumultuous grief, And pour the heav’nly nectar of relief: Suspend the sigh, dear Sir, and check the groan, Divinely bright your daughter’s Virtues shone: How free from scornful pride her gentle mind, Which ne’er its aid to indigence declin’d! Expanding free, it sought the means to prove Unfailing charity, unbounded love! She unreluctant flies to see no more Her dear-lov’d parents on earth’s dusky shore: Impatient heav’n’s resplendent goal to gain, She with swift progress cuts the azure plain, Where grief subsides, where changes are no more, And life’s tumultuous billows cease to roar; She leaves her earthly mansion for the skies, Where new creations feast her wond’ring eyes. To heav’n’s high mandate cheerfully resign’d She mounts, and leaves the rolling globe behind; She, who late wish’d that Leonard might return, Has ceas’d to languish, and forgot to mourn; To the same high empyreal mansions come, She joins her spouse, and smiles upon the tomb: And thus I hear her from the realms above: “Lo! this the kingdom of celestial love! “Could ye, fond parents, see our present bliss, “How soon would you each sigh, each fear dismiss? “Amidst unutter’d pleasures whilst I play “In the fair sunshine of celestial day, “As far as grief affects an happy soul “So far doth grief my better mind controul, “To see on earth my aged parents mourn, “And secret wish for T——! to return: “Let brighter scenes your ev’ning-hours employ: “Converse with heav’n, and taste the promis’d joy”
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Were you ever in love with someone not Listed as an approved relationship By roaming mobs of false analogies In either-or assumptions basely masked? Friendship and love are regulated now Not by a written fiat of the state But by the decibels of imbeciles The bellowed mandate of the club and fist The law of love is now the law of bans - They’ve politicized even the touching of hands
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Aug 4, 2018
Aug 4, 2018 at 4:02 PM UTC
The Slaughter of the Holy Innocents and of Holy Innocence
Everyday I hang myself I nail myself I staple myself to the wall Everyday I bleed myself I let myself I rub my blood out in the hall Everyday I hate myself berate myself I get out of bed and mandate myself to update myself to curate myself Artist the **** up and create myself Everyday I design myself define myself I put on my face and outline myself Everyday I dissect myself I correct myself Take out my parts and infect myself I change myself rearrange myself I paint all my organs and stain myself Everyday I reword myself martyr myself Use the strings from the Beats to suture myself I collect myself Resurrect myself My volition in life; to perfect myself If I fail myself derail myself I'll have nothing but a cheap veil of myself; *a shattered bulb a melted fuse a pack of matches burned and used.* No supernova, glory, fame. No concrete star, with golden name. Forgotten, faded, dusty muse. Mona Lisa, cut and bruised. My blood still smeared all down the hall, my skin still nailed up to the wall. My body scarred from mutilation, mapped attempts at self-creation. A jagged, torn up, constellation, The Hero of Humiliation. Don't we all fear failure's kiss? For if you shoot for the moon and miss, you'll rot away in the abyss.
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Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 5:14 PM UTC
The Hero of Humiliation (don't we all fear failure's kiss?)
Amidst the calamity of self-righteous politicians, I step into my mandate of securing my homeland, A village is in trouble, they said, They failed to mention the looming hidden weapons of destruction. First, my brother steps into the snare, I follow suit for no man in our team falls alone, Ensnared by the enemy, alone and nowhere to run, We stand and fight until we all fall down. Apparently, it wasn't enough that we had fallen, They chopped us up and made us spectacles, Of hatred and feudalism, that oozed from their souls, Our death not in vain as the villagers are safe, Why then now the bigots bicker so?
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Mar 14, 2013
Mar 14, 2013 at 9:52 AM UTC
I Fell.... with my brother
Parents to take our responsibility Siblings to carry our roller-coaster emotions Friends to co-create the madness we are Relatives to form our extended safety networks Spouse to satiate our mental, physical and lonely desires Kids to give us those safe & positive vibes for future Influentials and celebrations to realize our existence But how about having one nameless relation? One that doesn't mandate responsibilities? One that doesn't burden expectations? One that is Fearless, Formless & Weightless? One that is 'Carelessly Caring' ?
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Jul 12, 2018
Jul 12, 2018 at 12:05 PM UTC
One nameless relation?
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’ So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights This is mandate The republic for which we stand Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us
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Dec 9, 2015
Dec 9, 2015 at 3:30 PM UTC
Mercenary Mendacity re-post
Enigma entity’s ethology entelechy as it relates to clairaudience clairvoyance Everyone has a personal futurity fatidic or existential metaphysique What we need is a universally acceptable form of id conclusion Unfortunately we can’t even agree on the social stigmatisms of ego’s expression We are relatively extraneous interpolations of adhesively practical extremity that succeed in a hierarchy of functionally integrateable forms There is no functional deontology, even though its visage would seem to portend cogently fecund probity for all We are not ethereally sublime, we are corporeally preternatural Objective is individual; obligation to each other is not a mandate Though many might find it inherently indispensible to some it impedes success The depths of debauchery this debacle ensues are almost intrinsically endemic to our race How am I going to get there becomes more important than ‘what are we fighting for’ So, if there’s no unity of purpose how do we decide who we are fighting for Will it be good for all or lead to oligarchy and subjugation, the seemingly inescapable byproduct of capitalism, the inherent decadence of socialism It’s times like this that make me love the constitutional fortitude of Americanism Theoretically I have an inalienable right, hypothetically this leads to anarchy so I’m not allowed to mess with your rights This is mandate The republic for which we stand Mendacious tales of unity, not merely the obstinate tenacities of I, but also the cogent fecundity in the infamous we-ness of us
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Now In This Day And Age... of... Cancel Brigades... !?! You Can’t Afford To Be Afraid... To... HAVE YOUR SAY... !!! Our... Freedom of Speech... Is A Basic Right... RIGHT... ?!? Or Is It Being DENIED... When Certain Websites... Are Now DICTATING... What People Are Saying... On Their Website Pages... From Average Heads... To... Ex-Presidents... !!! Free Speech Dumped... And Stumped Liked Trump... !!! When It Comes To Airing Views... That Don’t Have Proof... Or Hold Values... That Are Proved To Speak TRUTH... But... Is THAT TRUE... ?!? Cos’ Who’s Fooling Who... When It Comes To The News... ? And Speech On Vaccines... Because Any Kind of Speech... Linking Them To 5G... Is QUICKLY Deemed... To Be Some Kind of THEORY... That Is... PURE FALLACY... !!! And A Conspiracy That... Has NO Basis In FACT... !!! But That Shouldn’t Mean... That Those Whose Beliefs... Do Not Agree... With Those Who Lead... And Speak On TV... Now Should NOT Be Heard... Or Be Allowed To Be Seen... !?! So Folks HAVE YOUR SAY... !!! ..... WITHOUT DELAY..... !!! Because It’s Okay To Disagree... With Mainstream Teams... And What They MANDATE... !!! As Well As DICTATE... Pretty Much EVERYDAY... !!! Into Peoples Pysches... And In Turn Their Mind States... As Being What’s RIGHT... And The Truth About Why... We’re Needing Lockdowns... And Vaccinations To Get Around... And Have Vacations In NICE Locations... !!! So... HAVE YOUR SAY... Because THEY Have THEIRS... !!! Those With FAME... And These WEALTHY Heirs... !!! Who Speak FREELY... EVEN When Their Speech... Is HATEFUL And MEAN... !!!!! Like *** MP’s... And Presidents Seen... In... TWENTY TWENTY... !!! And As For The Blender... of Modern Day Genders... Are People NOT FREE... To Air The Kind of Speech... That Doesn’t Agree... With How They Be... ?!? Anti Hate Laws... Have Come QUICKLY... !!! While Racists Seem... To Just Make Apologies... And Don’t Get As Much Grief... From These Cancel Police... When They Use Terms... Like... “ Piccaninnies “... !?! Double Standards And... ...... MUCH HYPOCRISY...... !!! Go With Policies... That Now SUDDENLY... Have Come To The FORE... In A Time Where Disease... Is RUINING MORE... Than Economies... !!! Freedoms SHREDDED... Whilst Normalcy’s Presented... ... In A Whole NEW Way... !!! So HAVE YOUR SAY... !!! Before It’s TOO LATE... !!! And BEFORE Things Sway... Towards Police States... Being What We Face... ALL OVER The Place... !!! Don’t Delay And Wait... And THEN COMPLAIN... ?!? When You Are Told... To Keep Your Mouth Closed... By Those Who Control... !!! Who Don’t Seem To Know... How They Should Behave... In Political Zones... !?! They’re Being Exposed... And Being Shamed... More And More Nowadays... !!! So Before They Make Claims... And Laws That Change... How People Can Relate... Their Views On Their Ways... And Demands That They Make... That Are Found To Be FAKE... !!! Don’t Make The Mistake... of Choosing To WAIT... Because Your AFRAID... To Voice Your Opinion... On Things Like Dominion... Gender And Prescriptions... Now Causing Divisions... !!! RESTRICTIONS To Living... And FREEDOM of THINKING... I Suggest You Make SURE... That You DO NOT DELAY... When It Comes To The FREEDOM... To... ..... “Have Your Say”..... !!!
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Sep 27, 2021
Sep 27, 2021 at 10:10 PM UTC
“Have Your Say” ... A Poem written by Big Virge 30/6/2021
Now In This Day And Age... of... Cancel Brigades... !?! You Can’t Afford To Be Afraid... To... HAVE YOUR SAY... !!! Our... Freedom of Speech... Is A Basic Right... RIGHT... ?!? Or Is It Being DENIED... When Certain Websites... Are Now DICTATING... What People Are Saying... On Their Website Pages... From Average Heads... To... Ex-Presidents... !!! Free Speech Dumped... And Stumped Liked Trump... !!! When It Comes To Airing Views... That Don’t Have Proof... Or Hold Values... That Are Proved To Speak TRUTH... But... Is THAT TRUE... ?!? Cos’ Who’s Fooling Who... When It Comes To The News... ? And Speech On Vaccines... Because Any Kind of Speech... Linking Them To 5G... Is QUICKLY Deemed... To Be Some Kind of THEORY... That Is... PURE FALLACY... !!! And A Conspiracy That... Has NO Basis In FACT... !!! But That Shouldn’t Mean... That Those Whose Beliefs... Do Not Agree... With Those Who Lead... And Speak On TV... Now Should NOT Be Heard... Or Be Allowed To Be Seen... !?! So Folks HAVE YOUR SAY... !!! ..... WITHOUT DELAY..... !!! Because It’s Okay To Disagree... With Mainstream Teams... And What They MANDATE... !!! As Well As DICTATE... Pretty Much EVERYDAY... !!! Into Peoples Pysches... And In Turn Their Mind States... As Being What’s RIGHT... And The Truth About Why... We’re Needing Lockdowns... And Vaccinations To Get Around... And Have Vacations In NICE Locations... !!! So... HAVE YOUR SAY... Because THEY Have THEIRS... !!! Those With FAME... And These WEALTHY Heirs... !!! Who Speak FREELY... EVEN When Their Speech... Is HATEFUL And MEAN... !!!!! Like *** MP’s... And Presidents Seen... In... TWENTY TWENTY... !!! And As For The Blender... of Modern Day Genders... Are People NOT FREE... To Air The Kind of Speech... That Doesn’t Agree... With How They Be... ?!? Anti Hate Laws... Have Come QUICKLY... !!! While Racists Seem... To Just Make Apologies... And Don’t Get As Much Grief... From These Cancel Police... When They Use Terms... Like... “ Piccaninnies “... !?! Double Standards And... ...... MUCH HYPOCRISY...... !!! Go With Policies... That Now SUDDENLY... Have Come To The FORE... In A Time Where Disease... Is RUINING MORE... Than Economies... !!! Freedoms SHREDDED... Whilst Normalcy’s Presented... ... In A Whole NEW Way... !!! So HAVE YOUR SAY... !!! Before It’s TOO LATE... !!! And BEFORE Things Sway... Towards Police States... Being What We Face... ALL OVER The Place... !!! Don’t Delay And Wait... And THEN COMPLAIN... ?!? When You Are Told... To Keep Your Mouth Closed... By Those Who Control... !!! Who Don’t Seem To Know... How They Should Behave... In Political Zones... !?! They’re Being Exposed... And Being Shamed... More And More Nowadays... !!! So Before They Make Claims... And Laws That Change... How People Can Relate... Their Views On Their Ways... And Demands That They Make... That Are Found To Be FAKE... !!! Don’t Make The Mistake... of Choosing To WAIT... Because Your AFRAID... To Voice Your Opinion... On Things Like Dominion... Gender And Prescriptions... Now Causing Divisions... !!! RESTRICTIONS To Living... And FREEDOM of THINKING... I Suggest You Make SURE... That You DO NOT DELAY... When It Comes To The FREEDOM... To... ..... “Have Your Say”..... !!!
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Worship His Lordship, Brace up timely solace, Before you are befooled, No syntax would serve, When death comes to date. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….. 1 Oh Dear, desist from desires, That govern mundane mandate. Blessed are you, whatever deserved, Of your actions, or inactions past, Be content and devoted, To your duty, serene and supreme Believe in boundless bliss beyond ……2 Concealed by shiny silky skin, Beauty is one of flesh n’ blood, Glow or glamour is never forever, Introspect and respect the truth, Let not illusion overtake your wisdom. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ……3 Eventual, life bubbles off, Like a droplet on lotus leaf, Conjured by complexion, Concluded by deadly disease. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ……4 Kith n’ kin crowd around, And enjoy the fun and frolic, Of youth, of health n’ wealth. As the age anchors in sickness, No referee comes to your rescue. Believe in boundless bliss beyond……5 Sprint is the spirit of life, The Soul holds the body The day the Soul skips away, Even your wife walks astray Believe in boundless bliss beyond……6 Fun n’ play rein budding life, Youngling passions linger fore, Hoary age diminishes in distress, None to come along, nothing to impress, When the dusk dawns on you, Too late to mediate and meditate. Believe in boundless bliss beyond…….7 After all, what are you! Of whom are you? Who your wife and children are? Are the bonds you made binding? What is your origin or horizon? Ponder over the divine marvel Believe in boundless bliss beyond ……8
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Feb 6, 2015
Feb 6, 2015 at 8:43 AM UTC
Ponder beyond ( Part I of IV)
Worship His Lordship, Brace up timely solace, Before you are befooled, No syntax would serve, When death comes to date. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ….. 1 Oh Dear, desist from desires, That govern mundane mandate. Blessed are you, whatever deserved, Of your actions, or inactions past, Be content and devoted, To your duty, serene and supreme Believe in boundless bliss beyond ……2 Concealed by shiny silky skin, Beauty is one of flesh n’ blood, Glow or glamour is never forever, Introspect and respect the truth, Let not illusion overtake your wisdom. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ……3 Eventual, life bubbles off, Like a droplet on lotus leaf, Conjured by complexion, Concluded by deadly disease. Believe in boundless bliss beyond ……4 Kith n’ kin crowd around, And enjoy the fun and frolic, Of youth, of health n’ wealth. As the age anchors in sickness, No referee comes to your rescue. Believe in boundless bliss beyond……5 Sprint is the spirit of life, The Soul holds the body The day the Soul skips away, Even your wife walks astray Believe in boundless bliss beyond……6 Fun n’ play rein budding life, Youngling passions linger fore, Hoary age diminishes in distress, None to come along, nothing to impress, When the dusk dawns on you, Too late to mediate and meditate. Believe in boundless bliss beyond…….7 After all, what are you! Of whom are you? Who your wife and children are? Are the bonds you made binding? What is your origin or horizon? Ponder over the divine marvel Believe in boundless bliss beyond ……8
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