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"meeker" poems
12 The morns are meeker than they were— The nuts are getting brown— The berry’s cheek is plumper— The Rose is out of town. The Maple wears a gayer scarf— The field a scarlet gown— Lest I should be old fashioned I’ll put a trinket on.
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The morns are meeker than they were
Hold my hand, hold my hand, Called her father to his baby, “Here is the narrow bridge to cross, Slip and fall you may, my lass!” No dad, no dad, hold my hand, Sure, you will not let me skid, Safer I do feel in your fold, Than you in my tiny hand. Hold the weaker and meeker, Their bond of trust is stronger, Than the strength of your grip, So is the essence of relationship
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Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 11:24 AM UTC
Hold My Hand
Preacher's Son You spoke like a preacher, Marble mouthed messenger Of the rules of your domain. You let your tongue slither words, Voice deep, booming, bass thumping Coursing through my chest, beating. This was your weapon of choice -  Each syllable a warning  Of what was yet to come. Your pulpit a collection of your vice, Beer bottles, ***** jugs, remnants of snowfalls. You are nothing more than  A false idol, And I will no longer cling To your drunk speech Or grovel at your feet. Go crack your hammer hands The ones that nailed my praise-song Shut to my throat to make me meeker But these hands were still free, Free to write silence across your lips And I hope these thoughts pierce you like darts, Like spears of defiance. This is no longer your church,  And I no longer your son  Worshipping the verbal lashings as Godly, Laudable. No longer seeing bruises as adornments Of unabashed, deep down spooky love.
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Nov 8, 2011
Nov 8, 2011 at 6:42 PM UTC
Preacher's Son
Upon her return from desert Vegas, Like lizards kissing in the heat, The rain drops poured so hard, how lovely again to hear each other’s heart’s beat Upon our meet, and washed away the agony of the everlasting wait. Upon her voyage from earthly east, Within the beast between Pacific and Atlantic feast. Flowers crying, in a vase soaking on the table, For they did not meet, The sunshine hidden behind clouds of darkness. So vague the feeling from one’s love departure, on voyage resumed by time ahead 3 hours. The dreams came quickly, and time more distant, if to the moment of her departure, Yet I still could not touch her. The carcass harking for a crow to feast, of my safety I’m concerned the least. For by her voyage I am not, My mind does rigorous of thinking and succumbs to plot, What is there, and what is not. Through I grieve to think me lonely, Even as much her look gazes in my heart, stonily, The sudden energy passing through the wireless speaker, Her voice traveling over to mine much meeker. My mind compels me to the image, Of what other’s gave to me by words, That this time I have to fight with swords, This sad place they never speak of ruled by lords. How relentlessly I tried. My heart for her safety cried, Until my mind gave in to show, a point in back of my head I fried. The eagerness of her time next to mine. My selfish understanding sublime. Like tea was seasoned with thyme. Instead of lemon, Who’s there to blame on? Then action of mind of mine.
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Nov 4, 2011
Nov 4, 2011 at 12:31 AM UTC
Of Her Return From Desert Vegas
Upon her return from desert Vegas, Like lizards kissing in the heat, The rain drops poured so hard, how lovely again to hear each other’s heart’s beat Upon our meet, and washed away the agony of the everlasting wait. Upon her voyage from earthly east, Within the beast between Pacific and Atlantic feast. Flowers crying, in a vase soaking on the table, For they did not meet, The sunshine hidden behind clouds of darkness. So vague the feeling from one’s love departure, on voyage resumed by time ahead 3 hours. The dreams came quickly, and time more distant, if to the moment of her departure, Yet I still could not touch her. The carcass harking for a crow to feast, of my safety I’m concerned the least. For by her voyage I am not, My mind does rigorous of thinking and succumbs to plot, What is there, and what is not. Through I grieve to think me lonely, Even as much her look gazes in my heart, stonily, The sudden energy passing through the wireless speaker, Her voice traveling over to mine much meeker. My mind compels me to the image, Of what other’s gave to me by words, That this time I have to fight with swords, This sad place they never speak of ruled by lords. How relentlessly I tried. My heart for her safety cried, Until my mind gave in to show, a point in back of my head I fried. The eagerness of her time next to mine. My selfish understanding sublime. Like tea was seasoned with thyme. Instead of lemon, Who’s there to blame on? Then action of mind of mine.
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and there shall be a call of the tormented gathered as one where bells peal haunted by the withered will of a yew tree's shawl summoning under its protective veil left from winter's warning tale to those whose summers never fail and those who left their clock to rust yet trust that strike though dull as dust eleventh hour at midnight past too late they fast turn round their heart to wind it back and grind the beat imparted by its creaking sticks which speak of stumps low cut to fit that fate below the mighty oaks who may in pride loud beckon youth to climb great thrills yet use no rope though soon a meeker whisper rose to shake them down to the ground of woes
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Jul 2, 2014
Jul 2, 2014 at 1:16 PM UTC
Past Protecting
I’m not a botanist, or an avid gardener. The horto I culture consists of two pots, sits on a narrow sill and soaks in its one-hour slit of sunshine. This makes me unfit to label much less fathom the encroaching sublime, which sprouts, shoots, creeps, clings and endures from far reaches beyond me. It has spines supple and rigid, skins coarse, spiked, and silky, quivering tips that are spidery, and bunched as small dollops, jagged teardrops and jigsaw puzzle pieces. I’m not a botanist, but if I were I should still be struck dumb by these numbing instances a protesting tongue insists it won’t box up such greenery with the genial trappings of a scientific classification, or even the oddly folksy catch-all **** I can’t always tell what’s a **** what not. l know those greedy intruders growing at the heart of a meticulously turned earth to spoil the well-ordered plots of a barely adequate vocabulary. It gets more complicated with the thrilling misfits and their sturdier notions of choking life from inhospitable beds poured and paved to the detriment of meeker plantings. Yesterday I met the peeks of ten woody red stems poking through a patch of chunky white gravel spread thick between two steel rails that fled to a horizon. I watched the breeze shake their candelabra arms dressed in sparse leaves and denser seed-packed sleeves, and they welcomed it. I'm not a botanist and I can’t name these plants, but I can admit, I admired them.
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Nov 13, 2010
Nov 13, 2010 at 6:20 AM UTC
Consolation of weeds
The seeker the loner the lover the keeper The thrower the catcher the leaper The believer the stoner the beater The busser the cleaner the waiter The water the sinker the caster the bleeder The runner the stunner the teacher the preacher The heater the steeper the meeker the feature the Sliding the slipping and sloshing and Crawling and creeping and cutting and kissing Dishing and wining and dining and hissing Looking and seeing believing and breeding Heaving mashing heaping seeding Feeding flooding fretting keeping Shining a lining flowing and flipping Tripping sipping showing shipping Beating the beat of the poem of the people
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Feb 11, 2013
Feb 11, 2013 at 1:56 AM UTC
The beat of the crowd
How can it be that you can have everything and still want more? Am I greedy when I ask "is there anything else?" How can it be that the ties of friendship can be undone? Are they not elastic? Aren't they impervious to the ever-shifting sands of time that weather meeker men down to disassociated piles of dust? How can it be that you can plant roots that spread and intertwine themselves, seemingly immune to any upward motion, just to pluck them from the ground that nurtured them for years and place them somewhere unlike anything they've ever known? How can it be that the world can hold so many secrets and yet our instincts tell us to discover the truth? No secret was ever discovered by trusting a single source; like the threads of a dream-catcher, we entangle ourselves in multiple realms to capture what we seek. I don't know which face means more: the smiling ones that coax me into song, and folly, and memories as precious as time, or the one blemished with melancholy as it stares back at me knowing there's so much more. How can it be that we have an imagination as wide as the universe, and yet we never dare to find the borders?
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May 29, 2016
May 29, 2016 at 2:19 AM UTC
Borders
I'm so sure you woke up next to your wrong side and said "Nah, I'm gonna win today because you're not my partner in crime today" It's efficient the way I can change perspectives to what I need at the moment It's a chance I need to take in order to make believe I can make it. No matter the consequences It's about how much I can win today Before the air in my lungs give out And the skip in my feet give in I hope you know how much I care, because you were always there Your presence is always around It made me believe in the right ideas It made me believe I can do no wrong I know I can be cruel sometimes But I can be a good person When the day comes that I don't try Please remind me with a gentler nudge Gentler than the way my mouth is quick And my hands are heavy Kinder that the daggers in my eyes When I judge every boy who is in love Meeker than a toddler going up to an elder brother Asking him to help fix any precious moment he has left in this stage of his life I can't help but see the light of day in the most bleak moment It's everything I ever wanted It's everything I ever hoped for It's not the light at the end of the battle It's the light every moment continued to become alive for Hope is not a jousting contest Where the truth fights with the facts It's about something that you need cultivated It's about something you need to promise Make that pact with yourself You cannot be wise If you cannot admit to not knowing. Make believe in the truth about yourself That you can be carefree, with responsibility. I love you I hope you never lose the ability to be loving Loving others with the light and strength that you know needs to be worked on Be a light for others Be a light that blind in strength A light that blinds out complacency A light that grows plants And creates life
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Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 1:06 PM UTC
Life from Light
I'm so sure you woke up next to your wrong side and said "Nah, I'm gonna win today because you're not my partner in crime today" It's efficient the way I can change perspectives to what I need at the moment It's a chance I need to take in order to make believe I can make it. No matter the consequences It's about how much I can win today Before the air in my lungs give out And the skip in my feet give in I hope you know how much I care, because you were always there Your presence is always around It made me believe in the right ideas It made me believe I can do no wrong I know I can be cruel sometimes But I can be a good person When the day comes that I don't try Please remind me with a gentler nudge Gentler than the way my mouth is quick And my hands are heavy Kinder that the daggers in my eyes When I judge every boy who is in love Meeker than a toddler going up to an elder brother Asking him to help fix any precious moment he has left in this stage of his life I can't help but see the light of day in the most bleak moment It's everything I ever wanted It's everything I ever hoped for It's not the light at the end of the battle It's the light every moment continued to become alive for Hope is not a jousting contest Where the truth fights with the facts It's about something that you need cultivated It's about something you need to promise Make that pact with yourself You cannot be wise If you cannot admit to not knowing. Make believe in the truth about yourself That you can be carefree, with responsibility. I love you I hope you never lose the ability to be loving Loving others with the light and strength that you know needs to be worked on Be a light for others Be a light that blind in strength A light that blinds out complacency A light that grows plants And creates life
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*Remember the day when we Spent all our time to be Wholly lost in the breeze? The warmth like a heater The grass smelled sweeter Weaving our way through the trees We ducked and dived Never felt so alive Until roots formed 'round our feet The world got meeker The hills got steeper ****** in a ditch of deceit I breath to breath you Do I need to need to? I should take my chances and run I'll lose my mind Trying one more time To fight a battle that cannot be won*
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May 10, 2016
May 10, 2016 at 4:48 PM UTC
Two Steps Back
My babe is the sexiest kitten I know, she's meeker than a lamb & bolder than a lion, there's no denying, she's tastes like the sweetest **** captures my heart with everything she does, I feel her genuine love for me, all the time. I'd be lying if I told you she was mean, there's not a single bone like that in her body. She's never shoddy, she dresses to the hilt. From her birthday suit to her tight fittin' jeans, everything about her is so doggone cute. She's a romancer & a fantastic dancer, the way she moves is smooth like butter, her undulations are exquisite & exotic, she wins all the awards for being ****** nope, definitely not neurotic, yep, hypnotic. Oh sure, she can cook & sew & keep a clean home, but she's so much more than all of that. She knows what you need to know about motors & tools & paint & plumbing & guns, too. I dream about her a lot, know how supercool she is, she's so much fun when she comes alive out of the lonely recesses of my mind, day and night. I never miss her kisses, 'cause I just make them up & whenever I want another, there's no reason to fight her, she smothers me with a lot of them.
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Mar 10, 2014
Mar 10, 2014 at 5:05 AM UTC
I'm In Love With My Imagination
Truly it needs no explanation, the depth nor connotations, its simple and its pure as life itself. Surly you can't expect the reaper, to step back and become meeker, its truth and I can live life by myself. You don't need to lend a hand, I'll place my feet and take my stand, there's no point worrying about me now. My world has changed and it has shifted, my view, the darkness it has lifted, its time to fight, nowhere to run, no way no how. Its not like I don't need you, the truth is that I want to, show you that I'm strong, my strength is true. There's no reason to go and miss me, I'm here, just not as you knew me, I'm trying to become some one new. So this step it is my own, this heart, become like stone, there is no way to shatter, strong at last. I'll prove myself and go the distance, from me you'll find no hindrance, watch me as I throw, my die is cast.
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Apr 15, 2011
Apr 15, 2011 at 2:51 AM UTC
S t r e n g t h
Let me be a little kinder Let me be a little blinder To the faults of those about me Let me praise a little more Let me be when I am weary Just a bit more cheery Let me serve a little better Those that I am striving for. Let me be a little braver When temptation bids me waver Let me strive a little harder To be a little smarter To ensure others of commitment Let me be a little meeker With the other who is weaker Thinking more of others feelings Than all my own dealings To be the Foundation that one can rest on.
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Feb 24, 2018
Feb 24, 2018 at 10:40 AM UTC
♉Let Me Be ♑
Upon releasing my grasp on my childhood fears I turn them over to the quartermaster A burly fellow exhibiting a sneer with no rival And as I watch, he packs them tightly in duplicity's pouch The walk back down these stairs made of rotting ash Is now much more precarious than I remember For time is traveling at such dizzying speeds That my balance has become flimsy in its disrepair Despite the rapping of nightmare's hands at my door I saunter over in stupor to let unwelcome guests inside Unleashed, they frantically invade every crevice Leaving just fractions of those who once roamed these dusty halls There is now but a dim candle on the cupboard Its remaining light grows meeker by the day I gather all that glimmers to my eye, as dull as they may shine And set foot for the only world within my reach
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Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 3:38 PM UTC
Candle on the Cupboard
Loving is strong but hate is all knowing, Ripping a heart is much quicker than sewing, It's harder to see what is painful is growing When you know what you find home has skeletons showing. Keep enemies strong and all your friends weaker, He who sees gunshots sees candles the meeker. It's not those who drink blood from marvels and beakers It's what we may find when we call ourselves seekers. Tell me your secrets but keep hidden your dreams For what I may say may speak not what it seems. I live you, I love you but we are the gleams In the truth of all things when you find what each means. Don't wait 'till the end for the lock and the key For dying is nicer than living as me, Break out the ice and watch it freeze free Too quickly you'll see that there never was we.
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Mar 11, 2015
Mar 11, 2015 at 6:26 PM UTC
Our Lock and Key
When they came to power By shouting louder Love is the only way I said When they made as meeker By censoring the speaker Love is the only way I thought When they stopped dissent By our silent consent Love is the only way I read When they made us unrighteous By the holy scriptures Love is it the only way I heard When his head got fractured By the stones and hatchets Love is the only way I lied
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Apr 5, 2019
Apr 5, 2019 at 11:52 AM UTC
The abode of peace