"mete" poems
Viking chiefs Valhalla bound,
at death, were not interred I've found.
On a fire ship they 'd place their chief
and cremate him per their belief.
Was it an obsequious grief
that gave rise to this strange belief?
For seafaring folk it scarce seems mete
to lose a captain, then burn the fleet.
With Dragon heads fixed fore and aft
Those ships brought terror, sword and shaft.
Irish Monks would think its fine
to burn one to the water line.
The ship of death was burning bright
as it sank within the fjord that night
carrying the Viking chiefs cremains
to his Viking gods' domains.
Was it conspicuous consumption
that drove the Vikings to this junction?
Perhaps after a life , ****** and gory,
they craved going out in a blaze of glory.
May 26, 2012
May 26, 2012 at 8:17 AM UTC
*Reading poems today on Hello Poetry
This is what came to me as the Love
Mete with so much needs of ALL!!!*
Desiderata
***Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.***
Dec 15, 2012
Dec 15, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
The Belle Rang His Bell
night sweets for knight tiptoeing into her suite
his horse's beat, turning her hoarse red as a beet
please my boughs, she pleas then bows
he rode the road, horse's rose to red rows
as waves mete, cries of more amore for their meet
Logan Robertson
5/18/17
May 18, 2017
May 18, 2017 at 5:10 PM UTC
DEAR JUSTICE,
Every act that day
revealed their involvement,
in their regions, blood pools lay,
as deep dug the predicament,
death and displacement left all awry,
cries of agony crawled, crumbling all.
JUSTICE! They have drawn a blank today,
branding them WAHESHIMIWA, the gall,
visiting us with ‘aid’ and false word, here in the tent,
where they just shove us in the recent,
their dope remains in minds of the awakened,
in those suits we see spooks good at demolishing
stretch your hand and dispense a mete from them
for in you we reckon that they will pay.
Nov 1, 2013
Nov 1, 2013 at 2:23 PM UTC
Not by one measure mayst thou mete our love;
For how should I be loved as I love thee?—
I, graceless, joyless, lacking absolutely
All gifts that with thy queenship best behove;—
Thou, throned in every heart’s elect alcove,
And crowned with garlands culled from every tree,
Which for no head but thine, by Love’s decree,
All beauties and all mysteries interwove.
But here thine eyes and lips yield soft rebuke:—
‘Then only,’ (say’st thou), ‘could I love thee less,
When thou couldst doubt my love’s equality.’
Peace, sweet! If not to sum but worth we look,
Thy heart’s transcendence, not my heart’s excess,
Then more a thousandfold thou lov’st than I.
2.1k
Water flows south
If it's in love...
Dancing with the devil, is all mouth
If a sea shall, is a world, a history's covenant?
Haunt, of a need...
Eaves, with the truth's eyes?
Of an angelic lead...
Doesn't anger eat fear, from its own fineness?
Finality of a golden wouldn't
First to stare, makes the bell...
Of fate, a prettier climate, too soon a wit?
Chaste or actual pasts; is the future hell?
Have me when, has mete where?
A salt of signs, and reality of a drive
In the unknown, with a peace so fair...
A charisma should dance, until I keep silence
The price love paid for austerity...
Is ours; isn't ourselves from an adding shadow?
With a savior, of what was virginity...
Is my name for courage, a tear's promise known?
Jun 26, 2024
Jun 26, 2024 at 3:07 AM UTC
Donde se mete la mano, se mete la pata
Si me acordara,
en que momento me comencé a quemar en el aceite caliente de los errores
creame, usted que me lee
la hubiera sacado
hubiera perdonado
…me hubieran perdonado.
Después que se cometen los errores, todos te lo advirtieron
Te vieron ahogarte y nada hicieron
o tal vez nada quisiste hicieran
Vi el mundo correr
y del macabro orgullo no me pude desprender.
En esto de las erratas, es fácil recaer
y con mi historial, fogatas se pueden hacer
Más que un tropezón, es una profesión
Si hubiera atendido a tiempo la condición
no tuviera porqué excusarme,
todas estas voces serían fetos
y no tendría que intoxicarme de medicamentos
¿He aprendido algo?
Sí
Si te me acercas mucho, mucho daño te haré.
Además, he aprendido algo esencial…
Donde se mete la mano, se mete la pata.
Aug 29, 2014
Aug 29, 2014 at 3:59 PM UTC
In the third-class seat sat the journeying boy,
And the roof-lamp’s oily flame
Played down on his listless form and face,
Bewrapt past knowing to what he was going,
Or whence he came.
In the band of his hat the journeying boy
Had a ticket stuck; and a string
Around his neck bore the key of his box,
That twinkled gleams of the lamp’s sad beams
Like a living thing.
What past can be yours, O journeying boy
Towards a world uknown,
Who calmly, as if incurious quite
On all at stake, can undertake
This plunge alone?
Knows your soul a sphere, O journeying boy,
Our rude realms far above,
Whence with spacious vision you mark and mete
This region of sin that you find you in,
But are not of?
1.4k
*Oh I do distinguish,
What is the ALL;*
***We inwardly receive,
Knowing truly;
Beyond the painful,
stories we numerate;
Which are often,
Yes painful horrific;
Yet when the love,
Beauty we all know;
Crystallizes,
clearly within;
We are empowered,
All great gifts whereby then,
Painful needs are mete with instant;
Response;
Not one doubt,
Second thought;
We are all,
Highly and acutely aware,
most sensitive too;
As the evolved beings we are;
We are the Holy Grail;
Moving the mountains;
Of the impossibilities,
Only we have already created therefor;
We are the vessels dissolving,
Mountains back into the sea;
Of infinite possibilities;
Whereby this infinite,
Sea of love though not seen;
In blinding light,
Of our more limited,
Consciousness;
Deep gifts;
Of our commonalities,
Make the painful numerations;
All the more beautiful;
Upon Our;
God Given commonality!!!!
Therefore the fearful snake,
Firstly hissing;
Transmutable in the laughing;
Joy;
Highly developed;
Golden Wisdom;
Sans;
Any doubt,
Lest we forget;
Hard worked for,
Well earned lessons;
Thank you!!!
Eve, Lilith!!!
ALL!!!***
We are ready;
***Already free;
Freeing;
The almighty;
Tantric,
Holy breeze!!!
Always,
More willing;
Yearning,
What is good;
More,
LOVE!!!
Giving!!!
Receivable!!!***
I call,
***Welcome!!!!
Thee Eighth of Days;***
Whereby fore;
Food!!!!
For,
Our bodies and souls;
***NEED!!!
LOVE!!!
DESERVE!!!
WANT!!!!***
***INHERENTLY!!!
KNOWN!!!***
*All,
Available;*
***HERE!!!
NOW!!!***
***ALREADY!!!
PREPARED!!!***
In an instant;
***BEFALLING!!!
ALL!!!
OF ALL!!!
FOR ALL!!!***
\ /
***HEARTS
LOVE***
/ \
***KNOW
NOT
\ /
B
O
N
D
A
G
E***
!
!
!
.
.
.
\/
.
.
.
*S
a
S
a*
***L
O
V
E***
!
!
!
Dec 17, 2012
Dec 17, 2012 at 10:52 PM UTC
Thank you so very much All!!
<3<3:):)!!R
Your Welcome so very much,
I would think the reasons of the words,
and along with what is apparent at times,
Is in one form true to words and spirit spoken,
All the same that need and want so much...
So as this per X'actly the case hereby performed as demonstrated by,
Ears and eYe of Heart's instructional inner pathway already,
Ready for what;
Love is calling doing being need mete need;
Bingo Ditto Copy Roger dat ova n' ova
Glory Be Glory Showing
Sowing Growing
Ripening Seed
and IDK if you read my poems but;
Blessed More X-Mass All the More For All the More Can Be!!!
http://hellopoetry.com/poem/idk-if-you-read-much-my-poems-but/
Dec 7, 2012
Dec 7, 2012 at 6:56 PM UTC
***Ah HA!!!
OMMMMM!!!!!
Heart Body Earth!!!
WORD LOVE HA OM!!!!
What ya' took a journey
Through ya' ALL!!!
WORD FOR THE DEAD
PREFER"RE'D THE LIVING!!!
House of the Pharaohs
Picked a few nifty'S
Hieroglyphic Typ"OH's!!
...---...'S
UN"Trickery'S!!!
DaNile Know!!!
IS longer NOT!!
Running backwards!!!
Oh Ya!!
I mean LOVE'ED JA'D!!!!
AGAIN!!!
Hooked Ya!!!
Sunk In!!
Taught Line'S
Loved YA!!!
ALL WAYS!!!
ALWAYS!!!
THEE ESSENCE
RUNNING FREEING
HIS HER'S IS!!!
IS TREES!!!!!
ALL SPIRIT!!!
HUED!!!!!
WITHIN THIS HERE
OR CONSIDERED
OTHER WHERE
THE WAY FARE!!!!
'TIS ALL HERE!!
ALL THERE IS!!!
LOVE LOVES YA!!!
ALL THE WAY TOO!!!
X"MASS KISS'S ALL BLISS'S IN YA!!!
ALL!!
OUT!!!
A'Bout
YA!!!
XXOOXX"S!!!
Lot"S Of RRRR"X"S!!!!
PURRRR
ING"S
KNOWING NOT!!
COMPETITIONS!!!
SKY'IS
WILD"IS
WooING"S!!!
ALL!!!
CREATURES GREAT!!!
SIZED NOT!!
HEARTS!!!
WEIGH NOT!!!!
EMC"Squared"S!!!
HE'SHE"ART"S ALL!!!!
LOVE!!!
O
V
E
!
!
.
.
IS!!!
ALL!!!!
'
M
A WOMB!!!
N O
. O
. M!!!
A / <3'S \
L \BEAT"S/
L Y
! "BEE
! WE I's '
'...OR S
..."D's E
I E A S E A
S S' El N' TERRA
I S E A T Of
S OPsEasy soNg's RING IN!!! A'Gain Sow Sown So Sweetly!!! LOVE METE WE!!!
' KA"S PA RA 'S
S'sOWN"IS"X"X"X"S...---...MA'S IS MASSIVE
AM
A
So WE KA-KNOW'SIS' T
---BLISS"S 'N LOVE I"S T
' S'IS H E Re: H E A R H E R H I M H E RE!!!!!
S T R HESHE'R'X'S
A M BE
KISS KISS KISS B R'OTHER'SO
BE T sIt IN
A'KNEWinN"G"LAND"
N I
N
GONG KA ALLING HA OM!!!!!
SING Go So In
NI O I
GO B' IN NI O
HE 'EL E G G'S GIFT'ING
O I W
O M N A
E G G R
D"S'
...T"EW
LOV'E A
O R
F D"S
F'ER
R E'IS'IS
E
BE IN
ON OUT!!!
RA
NI
Sa Sa Ra!!!!***
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 6:04 PM UTC
Words spoken silent, ears heard hollow
rustle the leaves, bury your sorrow
my dirt laid under your nails, whilst your hands stayed clean
for you played the deviser and keeper of dreams
time may pass, dragging with it with now and then
but remember
with what measures you mete, shall be measured to you again
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
Oh Lord, it seems to me, You are a God of pain
without which some people say there is no gain.
There is only so much that we creatures can bear
and it’s sometimes I wonder if You really do care.
Throughout the world You’re generally loved, hated or feared
and there are certain times when You are very strongly jeered.
Most people have a hard time making up their mind about You
because of the trials and tribulations that You put them through.
It seems strange and true to say that with Your almighty nature
You somewhat force people to bend to Your imposing stature.
To impress on them that You’re the Only One they should please
You have to prepare and teach them all how Your Will to appease.
Is it because of You’re being Immortal and All-knowing and we are Your heirs
that You subject us all to such rigorous training to overcome illusion’s snares?
One only has to reflect on the lives of Your so-called True Sons of the past
to realize the suffering and attainment their example on humanity has cast.
If I sound to be a little cynical towards You and seem to complain
how could You be so insensitive and not help me get rid of my pain?
Though ignorant as I am to One Who is great as You’re made out to be
please show a little more compassion to those who are helpless like me.
As life in this world demands so much of our time
is it forgetfulness of Thee that You consider a crime?!
This whole world is a cruel proving ground to one higher above
and yet it has been spoken or written that You are a God of love!
If I don’t seem to see the bigger picture now of what really goes on
then You’re held responsible for allowing this situation to drag on.
And even though You have given Teachers to show people the way
the illusion is still so strong that most get caught and lost in the fray.
Remaining a while here where they play out either minor or major roles
being only a matter of time before they too become aware of their souls.
When after much disappointment and suffering that You seem to mete out
they gradually realize by pain that this world is not what life is only about.
_________________________________________________________
Sep 5, 2012
Sep 5, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC
The tiniest piece of dust
that's us
No more than an iota
"until heaven and earth pass away, not an iota, not a dot, will pass from the Law" (Mt 5:18)
Our hopes and dreams become anecdotes.
Glittering, sparkling silver particles
dancing freely with an abandonment
not seen since childhood.
Time elopes freely, either quickly or slowly.
Dependant on our experience with it.
Is there substance to time?
Are we it's substance ?
Us, the spots, flecks, mites and motes of humanity?
Time erodes what once was
Law, pain, pleasure, life
We remember items long turned to dust
A scintilla of us remain along with our one
grain of thought, lest we forget, we are just
sparkling dust floating around waiting to land
to be turned into the sands of time.
Shoals of grandiose people
ignoring the sermon on the mount
The mote and the Beam.
We see others but not ourselves
We see dust but do not clean it
We see sunlit motes dancing
But we do not dance for after all
For with what judgment ye judge, ye shall be judged: and with what measure ye mete, it shall be measured to you again.
—Matthew 7:1-5 KJV
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 4:33 PM UTC
Burn Baby, Burn!
Like my soul for her.
Burn Baby, Burn!
As if you were saying “burrr.”
Burn Baby, Burn!
Cast a fire unto me.
Burn Baby, Burn!
Let the world see,
Burn Baby, Burn!
Our passion for the heat.
Burn Baby, Burn!
Let the smoke be our mete.
Burn Baby, Burn!
Don’t cross over that line.
Burn Baby, Burn!
Reach for the flames so divine.
May 13, 2014
May 13, 2014 at 1:48 PM UTC
Here's pain in iambic pentameter.
Iamb skill, like the lion that kills lambs.
'Cause I am Bill, not just an amateur.
I am will. And I will not give a ****
.
Mem'ries beat on, hear it all on your feet.
Five metrical feet, heretical feats.
I'm not pent up with pain that I mete out,
Burdened with truths I'm trying to eke out.
.
That's five pairs of beats alive with the heat
Of pain on this tragic perimeter,
Until it leaves no memory of doubt.
This ain't pain? Why'd I write it down again?
.
Live through spasms with enthusiasm!
Bruise some atoms, throw some glue right at 'em!
Jun 20, 2013
Jun 20, 2013 at 8:43 PM UTC
Are you still beating your babies?
Are you still punching your kid?
Are you still calling it discipline;
Not the worst thing you ever did?
Is it always a case of deserving
The punishment you mete out?
Where you teach them what is what;
Call them disgusting names and shout?
Break out the heavy leather belt
Go cut me a big switch
You kids are ******* me off
You’re giving me a big itch.
Bend yourself over here
Don’t run and make me catch you.
Remember this is all your fault.
You’re making me do this to you.
When you get in the mood to punish
Do dress in a special costume?
Does it have to take place in a woodshed
Or in some special kind of room?
Do you double up your fist and hit
Or do you have special equipment?
Does the physical treatment you hand out
Contribute to your fulfillment?
Break out the heavy leather belt
Go cut me a big switch
You kids are ******* me off
You’re giving me a big itch.
Bend yourself over here
Don't run and make me catch you.
Remember this is all your fault.
You’re making me do this to you.
In a world of deserving irony
You’d have to wear a disguise
So neighbors would know about you
And authorities could be made wise.
Then someone could call in specialists
To give some of what you give
And teach you eye-for-an-eye truth
About the way you live.
Break out the heavy leather belt
Go cut me a big switch
You kids are ******* me off
You’re giving me a big itch.
Bend yourself over here
Don't run and make me catch you.
Remember this is all your fault.
You’re making me do this to you.
Jun 17, 2016
Jun 17, 2016 at 1:54 PM UTC
If I?
Were ignoring,
then what am I?
Seeing, being or not!!
My actions reflect clearly
the stomping vote cast with feats
trodden in not ignoring you and your's truly
or being okay with that. I don't believe you are or would be either
if our treatment of one another mete with our true knowing and longings.
So clouded then is our vision upon ourselves then cast upon the other sadly. I can't really say
I know where that is at. Climbing mountains together in need then casting the other down. Is there a point made in defending oneself to false accusations but to fuel momentum of the insatiably most needy. Or do
you prefer a simple warm heart and hands for touch in reaching!!! I don't know why you say goodbye, B+H
I say hello!!! LOOK O S E E
U S L
T L
O
W
E
E
P
S
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 2:15 PM UTC
All these lies and smiles I eat
Rest in my head like the tombs of the dead
And make a tally in mind, I keep
For the time comes soon, I shall shed
The decay that stains dry lips black
And Pollocks the mountains of my cheeks
Like webs of a spider, left unchecked
A scorn of thorns I will mete
For each scar of a promise unkept
Has nested a home in my dried-up heart
And unlike you, for whom I've wept
Their bitter voices keep me warm
Betrayal grips me like a forgotten lover
I dance in your demise, and rise - untethered.
Apr 26, 2018
Apr 26, 2018 at 8:56 AM UTC
left to right,
all looks the same to me.
as far as the eye can see,
a cadre of thieves
waiting for their chance.
when our vigilance slips
they'll kick the chair beneath our feet
and leave us hanging
from the bows of a willow tree.
if ever there was a time
to smash windows, burn limos,
and punch Nazis, the moment is here.
you fancy yourself progressive
yet here you sit on your hands, regressing,
playing the hand you've been dealt.
did you forget the deck is stacked?
the House always wins.
it's time to flip the table over.
toss their rule-book in the gutter.
a clenched fist is not just an image
you stick on a protest sign
to appear edgy. the movement
for gender equality is not an opportunity
for you to get laid. fighting the State
is not a weekend getaway.
carve the reality into your thick skull:
people are dying.
don't you see? they want us divided.
we're easier prey that way.
if they demonize the anarchists
and socialists then they can make
the liberals feel safe. "don't be violent,"
they say. "comply. obey. and we'll mete out
just enough concessions to keep
your guilty conscience assuaged."
if we fail to hold their feet to the fire
they'll throw us in the ovens.
the fascists will drag us out
behind the chemical sheds,
pull a burlap sack over our heads,
and won't stop the firing squad
'till we're long dead.
will you sit idle and watch
them drag us away? or will you
get aggressive, stand up to the State
and say, "not today."
don't be a passive participant
in your own arrest. the human mind
is omnipotent, an emancipatory instrument.
we have to begin
imagining a world without gods and masters,
envisioning what it means to be truly free.
resist the corpulence of false democracy
and make the prefigurative dream
our new reality.
Feb 8, 2017
Feb 8, 2017 at 6:51 AM UTC
Despues de sentir la moneda, de sentir uno posee, el recordatorio, ordinario de una vida.
Question:
Pregunta:
Ordinaria y olvidada en segundos, en ella se encontrara un rasgo femenino, lo esencial.
Digamos que en encontrar algo, uno se divide entre uno o dos cosas pensadas.
Y al sentirse rendido uno no promete no sentarse.
Se aburre de sus sentidos y se mete las manos en los bolsillos.
Al sacarselas uno regresa a mirar el cielo rasio.
May 5, 2015
May 5, 2015 at 4:25 PM UTC
¿Qué hemos de hacer nosotros los negros
que no sabemos ni leer?
Fregar escupideras en los grandes hoteles
encerar y barrer
manejar ascensores
en el Gran Club servirles de beber
o hacer que el cadillac sea más lujoso
vistiendo la librea de chofer.
Tenemos la respuesta siempre lista:
en París "oui, monsieur"
y en Georgia, en Lousiana o en Virginia
un eterno "yes sir..."
Los negros, pobres negros de este mundo
¿qué cosa hemos de hacer
debiendo de comer todos los días
(y a veces sin comer)?
Bajar la testa reverente
y a lo mismo de ayer.
Hasta que llega un blanco y "nos descubre"
nos mete al ring
y aquí comienza para mal de males
el principio del fin
Footing, training, sombra;
saco, pera, soga;
upper cuta
hook
cross.
Duchazos, masajes,
fotos, reportajes.
¡Okey, boss...!
El cañaveral de mi lejana tierra
me dio estos fuertes bíceps.
Los buques cargueros de todos los muelles
me dieron envidiable complexión.
Y corriendo, voceando millones de diarios
fortalecí
muslo
pierna
y
pie.
Ahora, en el Madison Square Garden
de New York,
dice mi manager:
¡No whisky!
¡No tobacco!
¡No girls!
(No money)
Negros acomodadores
ubican a los blancos en ring side.
Perder esta pelea
significa volver con ellos:
Con Blackie de Maniatan.
Con Brown de Alabama
Con "Nando" Rodríguez de Puerto Rico
...y entonces
no whiksy
no tobacco
no girls
no money
and
¡knock-out!
My challenger
es ***** como yo
Si pierde le espera lo mismo
(Aquí los únicos
que nunca pierden
son nuestros managers y el promotor).
Comienza el round, voy hacia el centro
-en este plan voy a perder-
este es el round numero trece
¡voy a demostrarle quién es quién!
Me está llevando hacia una esquina,
si caigo aquí me cuentan diez.
¡Virgen del Cobre estoy perdido!
No puedo ver
No... pue.. do... ver...
La gente aplaude al que me mata
El referee no dice "break".
Que mi mujer no sepa nada...
Mi nombre es BENNY "KID" PARET.
923
Born on this day
my firstborn child
In Huntingburg
far from the sea
The life that's given us by God
so full of possibilities
Her destination still unknown
she strikes upon the path of life
so full of wondrous mystery
she sees a world filled up with strife
And picks her way among the stones
(life doesn't mete out dulcet tones)
But then again that still small voice
calls from the vail of destiny
"To Love is such an easy choice"
"Come here my child and rest in Me"
Feb 7, 2015
Feb 7, 2015 at 12:44 PM UTC
Mankind seemeth to forget
The judgement that he shalt mete
In this life;
Shalt be allocated ten fold
The next.
©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
Aug 20, 2015
Aug 20, 2015 at 10:18 AM UTC
***Believe as 'The Heavenly Father" speaks life living within you!!
Than cast continually outward and you will see the "Promise",
outwardly befall befalling now!!
Like any 'prophet' who has spoken 'Gods Word',
recorded as scripture no matter how it is seen,
or understood or not with old ears and eyes!!
Each of these said who me how who am I,
beyond humble being for such grace!!!
Then truth was nonetheless clear,
then compulsion drove out the 'Word'!!!
No doubt it has been said as branches of this vine,
the greater will be and indeed is being here now,
among us and One with the ALL it is!!!
Sans little half steps backwards,
we count the ones forward;
In the new 'Double Triple Two Steps' forward,
that count for all that matters;
There is,
a little half step back,
for we shall not forget;
Our lessons in what matters not!!!
No doubt greater;
Than shall keep you breathing,
Outwardly;
LIFE!!!
LOVE!!!
Mete
NEED!!!
Believe do accept breathe;
The holy breath is about awaiting;
It's Divine Will;
To flow freely;
In abundance!!!
Sa Sa
With
For
Timothy!!!
ALL!!!!!***
<3r
Dec 14, 2012
Dec 14, 2012 at 1:33 PM UTC