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"moriah" poems
She's somewhere in the sunlight strong her tears are in the falling rain she calls me in the wind's soft song and with the flowers she comes again. The loneliness and misery are silenced by a melody. She's somewhere and I hear her sing her words in timeless memory. Stay the course, light a star, change the world where ere you are. Somewhere the night wind carries her the silver moon beam lights her way Onterees is her messenger and every sun and moon her stay Dark voices from the shadows call but listen and her voice recall Moriah, Moriah Stay the course, light a star, change the world where ere you are
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Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 3:37 PM UTC
The Poet Sings
Many little children wander by Ogling the window shops’ merchandise Replaying dreams of Christmas past Inside their infinite minds As a glimmer of possibility Hopes to peek through the July heat — Moriah J. Chace
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Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC
Christmas in July: An Acrostic
I am a walking contradiction. I am two souls in one body. Twins that never split in the womb, born with two souls, two separate streams of thought. Two twisted hearts but only one body, one face, one voice. On the surface I am Moriah, everything on the outside is simple. Moriah is the face who advertises the product. The Marlboro Man of the tobacco industry. SHE is the tobacco industry, the evil secret no one can see, the alter ego. My actions, reactions, my outer surface does not correlate to the world in my head. My mind is a complex, infinite universe all of its own functioning within this universe we call home. On the inside SHE is angry, powerful, strong, reckless, primal. SHE doesn't give a flying **** On the outside I am sweet, powerless, weak, careful and I care way too **** much. I am day, SHE is night. I am a simple smile, a kind hello, the occasional laugh. SHE is an evil grin, a cold **** you, the frequent thriller. I take the snide remarks, close my lips and sink away. On the inside SHE is screaming, ***** and throwing fists. I am quiet and meek. SHE is loud and in your face. I am plain. SHE is vibrant. Vanilla. Habenero. When the sun slips away and the world is asleep that is when SHE is alive, a creature of the night. SHE calls to me begging and pleading, "Let me out. I want to play." SHE teases me and taunts me But I hold her down, shackled, imprisoned. Locked her up and threw away the key. I must find that key, I have to let her free. I am so tired of holding her in, tired of looking for a part of me I have been vainly searching for in a broken idea of love. Only SHE can find the pieces of my past that I left for dead. Drowning my regret in a vast ocean of medicated anxiety. Floating through this life with an eerie fog clouding our withered hearts. Empty nights spent lying awake. My heart strings strum a soulful song as my father's faded touch creeps into my mind. His words cling tightly like a noose around my neck, suffocating me. The sick, twisted words, "I own you." slither and hiss into my core. Nights spent with wrists aching for a razor to open them up and release the heartache I have buried, spilling regret and unsung apologies out into the world like wandering spirits. Only SHE can heal those wounds, replace the pieces of me that I can't seem to bring myself to face.
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Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 4:59 PM UTC
SHE
I am a walking contradiction. I am two souls in one body. Twins that never split in the womb, born with two souls, two separate streams of thought. Two twisted hearts but only one body, one face, one voice. On the surface I am Moriah, everything on the outside is simple. Moriah is the face who advertises the product. The Marlboro Man of the tobacco industry. SHE is the tobacco industry, the evil secret no one can see, the alter ego. My actions, reactions, my outer surface does not correlate to the world in my head. My mind is a complex, infinite universe all of its own functioning within this universe we call home. On the inside SHE is angry, powerful, strong, reckless, primal. SHE doesn't give a flying **** On the outside I am sweet, powerless, weak, careful and I care way too **** much. I am day, SHE is night. I am a simple smile, a kind hello, the occasional laugh. SHE is an evil grin, a cold **** you, the frequent thriller. I take the snide remarks, close my lips and sink away. On the inside SHE is screaming, ***** and throwing fists. I am quiet and meek. SHE is loud and in your face. I am plain. SHE is vibrant. Vanilla. Habenero. When the sun slips away and the world is asleep that is when SHE is alive, a creature of the night. SHE calls to me begging and pleading, "Let me out. I want to play." SHE teases me and taunts me But I hold her down, shackled, imprisoned. Locked her up and threw away the key. I must find that key, I have to let her free. I am so tired of holding her in, tired of looking for a part of me I have been vainly searching for in a broken idea of love. Only SHE can find the pieces of my past that I left for dead. Drowning my regret in a vast ocean of medicated anxiety. Floating through this life with an eerie fog clouding our withered hearts. Empty nights spent lying awake. My heart strings strum a soulful song as my father's faded touch creeps into my mind. His words cling tightly like a noose around my neck, suffocating me. The sick, twisted words, "I own you." slither and hiss into my core. Nights spent with wrists aching for a razor to open them up and release the heartache I have buried, spilling regret and unsung apologies out into the world like wandering spirits. Only SHE can heal those wounds, replace the pieces of me that I can't seem to bring myself to face.
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50
Before I could be taken to Mount Moriah before a ram could be found to replace me before I was a redeemed first born the ram was left unsacrificed the redeemed was lost and the first born became the last. And all the martyrs who were lost before my birth, are still lost despite it. I have become a singularity a new word in an old Darwinian lexicon an irregular verb without plural or future tense unique in every respect and definition save all who would follow after and not be of me or ever could.
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Aug 29, 2016
Aug 29, 2016 at 6:39 PM UTC
A History of My Affliction
While Abraham was binding Isaac to Mount Moriah he was interrupted by a knock at the door.          "Who could this be?" he thought.          "We don't even own a door," he cried. So he continued binding Isaac to the altar. Again, a knock that could make the deaf hear. Abraham had to stop and look for the door.           He yelled, "Leave me alone, I'm doing God's work!" and returned to continue the akedah. And again a knock interrupted him, and again, and again---Abraham did not know what to do, whether to laugh or to cry.            And then he thought: "This will be the history of my children. When we will be doing our work or God's work there will always come a knock at the door to interrupt us...whether we own a door or not." And it came to pass that the history of the Jews is a history of interruptions.
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Sep 2, 2016
Sep 2, 2016 at 3:37 PM UTC
While Abraham was binding Isaac
It is almost summer and the hot night seems so quiet as the wind on the water lifts the sails on that ship sailing west like smoke from the fire I lit to burn the driftwood of my dreams and desires until morning comes like that sad-eyed Moriah I've admired from afar.
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May 21, 2017
May 21, 2017 at 10:59 AM UTC
Driftwood smoke
Isaac stomps out his cigarette **** He’s been living down in the suburban desert. I heard he stopped going to church years ago And I heard he’s scared to pray with both eyes shut. A hot night - sixteen and itching with life, Sixteen and running blind down the mountain Sixteen with bound up wrists; tied up hands And the story goes his old man dropped the knife. And the story goes he put up a hell of a fight. They’d make a killing on ticket sales alone. Get that angel to sweat in the stadium lights. And I heard that Isaac still has scars on his chest, But we all pay some penance, we all cheat some test.
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Jun 25, 2010
Jun 25, 2010 at 8:06 PM UTC
Moriah
Body in trances subsequently seen in through my own eyes any other orifice would let in more reasoning settling pain learning by ear and by feeling the way my own body settles being the rhythm danced by rain while we shouldn't celebrate hear is the way my fingers tap in a rhythm from my old brain weights being lifted off of my stone, from mud washing it clean wait is that me still thinking in the darkness, or is it myself either way i am content being the concubine to this Darkness the way it lets me know , being alone isn't that alone, she is everywhere. Oh Moriah. how i pray for you every night that you decide fair judgement for the depths of my own soul take on this journey embarked with truth held onto you till my grave. Black Moriah take me onto and off of oh onto things that i feel in the back of my coffin, the one another i am stuck in, feeling the worms often dense and digging we out of this hidden cerebellum under the dirt stuck till the thawing of hell and then, my cold blood will be able to live in that heaven, of what i was doing above except on repeat youre death is just what you make it Black est Moriah take no time to learn of my folly and fate love inside you, my most favorite angel of Death you wait for no one, my most heavenly pariah of Serpentine fate for no man, no man most decide it just stumble blindly Into the gates of hell, if they are still warm and didn't lay long i laid on the shores of the Acheron, long enough to loose vision blindly making friends of passerby's, blindly making decisions
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Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 3:14 PM UTC
I could walk into Hell(find Black Moriah)
Body in trances subsequently seen in through my own eyes any other orifice would let in more reasoning settling pain learning by ear and by feeling the way my own body settles being the rhythm danced by rain while we shouldn't celebrate hear is the way my fingers tap in a rhythm from my old brain weights being lifted off of my stone, from mud washing it clean wait is that me still thinking in the darkness, or is it myself either way i am content being the concubine to this Darkness the way it lets me know , being alone isn't that alone, she is everywhere. Oh Moriah. how i pray for you every night that you decide fair judgement for the depths of my own soul take on this journey embarked with truth held onto you till my grave. Black Moriah take me onto and off of oh onto things that i feel in the back of my coffin, the one another i am stuck in, feeling the worms often dense and digging we out of this hidden cerebellum under the dirt stuck till the thawing of hell and then, my cold blood will be able to live in that heaven, of what i was doing above except on repeat youre death is just what you make it Black est Moriah take no time to learn of my folly and fate love inside you, my most favorite angel of Death you wait for no one, my most heavenly pariah of Serpentine fate for no man, no man most decide it just stumble blindly Into the gates of hell, if they are still warm and didn't lay long i laid on the shores of the Acheron, long enough to loose vision blindly making friends of passerby's, blindly making decisions
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27
when the mind becomes numb a skull can be dissected to show its cavities cavities are the orbit of the eyes an old Indian saying? I noticed you really just want to annihilate me not comfort you. There is a blood meal in me ready to explode   a tombed implosion an imprisoned womb. But it's too late for that time is personal and lately, voices. I fear the indecipherable is now decipherable I see in Moriah, Jonah, and Tyler, incredible nations Cree, why didn't you listen to me! can you taste my saliva? get over it! you know the skull was dissected to show the cavities of the orbit of the suns.
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Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 6:16 PM UTC
Notes for a grave to be
Seventy Weeks have been determined [1], Sixty-nine have been fulfilled   Number seven zero about start, does this make you thrilled?   - Seven years this will last, the time of Jacob’s trouble   The Vengeance of the Lord…turn the world into rubble   - There is a town in Israel, Jerusalems’ the name   In this town there is a place, a place of world fame   - Almighty God has chosen, a place for the Messiah   The center of the world, the place is Mount Moriah   - Construction soon will start, on Temple number three   But the place is wrong. This just cannot be   - I will tell you how I know, it’s written plain as day   A man of old, a holy sage; here’s what he had to say [2] - Sixty chapters he did write, plus another six   The last chapter read the start, then cross the river Styx [1] Dan 9:24 [2] Isa 66:1
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Dec 8, 2014
Dec 8, 2014 at 3:53 AM UTC
It's In The Wrong Place
I was just going out to get an iced coffee and cigarettes but this time I decided not to go to Starbucks as usual, I went to the cool little coffee place in town called Taffys. I had to park down the street and walk a short ways. The floor boards groaned under my feet as I walked in. I was greeted with a hello, and I asked if they had iced coffee. "Taffys doesn't open until 4, but of course." I looked at the clock and it was 3. Oh, I'm sorry! I awkwardly giggled. "No it's totally cool. If you have the time I can make you one now." Said a pretty blonde, wearing a unique all black outfit. I said yes, deciding to disregard my nature of being in a hurry. An older man wearing a hat, with his shirt unbuttoned, exposing a fresh tattoo came around and sat at the counter and introduced himself as Mike and her as Moriah. The two began to chat with me, excitedly talking about the way they make coffee and had me smell the beans I would be drinking. They asked me about myself and we talked about tattoos and they told me about how they are musicians and the others that come and play there. They were the type of people that are just calming and inviting and soon I was sharing a blueberry pastry with them and looking at the boutique she had created. Moriah went and talked with some people that came in and I asked Mike if he smoked and he said, "Yeah. Come this way. I want to show you something." I followed him out the back and we came out onto a cool outside area with places to sit and a wall that had portraits on it. We sat and smoked cigarettes and talked some more. He explained to me that he's been divorced and after being snowed in together for four days that he and Moriah began dating. She came out and had a cigarette too and you could tell he admired her and was just happy with their life together. The wind was blowing, and it was warm and I felt comfortable. They kept saying how glad they were that I came in and I smiled and said me too. It was so unusual but fun to meet people this way. It felt like I was someone else in a movie and I didn't know how it would end but it was exciting. But soon enough they had to get back to work and I realized an hour had gone by and I parked in a spot that was supposed to be only 30 minutes so we said good bye and they told me to come back some time. And I really wanted to. I didn't even want to leave because I knew that this kind of life must be so fun. Musicians who work together in a cool coffee shop that are in love, and meet other musicians all the time. I walked back to my car smiling and was already thinking about when I could come back and how sometimes you are just in the right place at the right time.
0
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
The right place
I was just going out to get an iced coffee and cigarettes but this time I decided not to go to Starbucks as usual, I went to the cool little coffee place in town called Taffys. I had to park down the street and walk a short ways. The floor boards groaned under my feet as I walked in. I was greeted with a hello, and I asked if they had iced coffee. "Taffys doesn't open until 4, but of course." I looked at the clock and it was 3. Oh, I'm sorry! I awkwardly giggled. "No it's totally cool. If you have the time I can make you one now." Said a pretty blonde, wearing a unique all black outfit. I said yes, deciding to disregard my nature of being in a hurry. An older man wearing a hat, with his shirt unbuttoned, exposing a fresh tattoo came around and sat at the counter and introduced himself as Mike and her as Moriah. The two began to chat with me, excitedly talking about the way they make coffee and had me smell the beans I would be drinking. They asked me about myself and we talked about tattoos and they told me about how they are musicians and the others that come and play there. They were the type of people that are just calming and inviting and soon I was sharing a blueberry pastry with them and looking at the boutique she had created. Moriah went and talked with some people that came in and I asked Mike if he smoked and he said, "Yeah. Come this way. I want to show you something." I followed him out the back and we came out onto a cool outside area with places to sit and a wall that had portraits on it. We sat and smoked cigarettes and talked some more. He explained to me that he's been divorced and after being snowed in together for four days that he and Moriah began dating. She came out and had a cigarette too and you could tell he admired her and was just happy with their life together. The wind was blowing, and it was warm and I felt comfortable. They kept saying how glad they were that I came in and I smiled and said me too. It was so unusual but fun to meet people this way. It felt like I was someone else in a movie and I didn't know how it would end but it was exciting. But soon enough they had to get back to work and I realized an hour had gone by and I parked in a spot that was supposed to be only 30 minutes so we said good bye and they told me to come back some time. And I really wanted to. I didn't even want to leave because I knew that this kind of life must be so fun. Musicians who work together in a cool coffee shop that are in love, and meet other musicians all the time. I walked back to my car smiling and was already thinking about when I could come back and how sometimes you are just in the right place at the right time.
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26
Of such commandments from above Obedience – a stream of love Presented with abundant choice Abraham obeyed God’s voice A promised child of such a time A standing test now would remind The passing time yet would not falter Offered gifts upon the altar To Moriah, a land away The sacrifice yet to obey A calling forth to bring upon No sheep or lamb, the chosen son With all trust not put to fault An angel brought him to a halt Abraham followed all his plans Now untie his feet and hands Due fulfilment of the test Your descendants I will bless Lord’s provision, for the right Precious always in God’s sight Written by Geraldine Taylor ©
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Jun 15, 2017
Jun 15, 2017 at 1:20 AM UTC
All Back to God