The First Apostle

Did you know your calling?
When He first met you
Demonized-*******

Transformed by His healing hand
Your love-turned passion
Inseparably bound to his being

Scorned for your lavish yearning
Prophetically anointing perfume-blood
Head to hands to dusty broken feet

Your walk with Him closer to death
The rugged weight of dry wood
Heavy heart anointed in knowing tears

You stood by his side-abandoned
By pharisaical disciples cowards call
His love grafted into bone and sinew

The empty mocking tomb
Like your barren heart
Devoid-all you lived for
Rudely taken away

Then He touches you again
With glorious anointing
Head to heart to weary feet
With apostolic "Go-Tell" command

Demonized-*******
Apostle-Evangelist


Stanley Arumugam

Expression of emotion should never be oppressed
Trust me i know how to yell, you taught me very well,
But this is merely speaking
Hear me when I say I want to cry until we’re floating in the Dead Sea
And my heart no longer curses me with the density to sink
Im trying to escape this catastrophe,
But you coerce until my original thoughts become extinct
Hear me when i say i want to shriek until my reflection shatters
And my soul can equally and oppositely be repaired
Someday i hope my insides can scream as loud as they desire
When ill no longer live under your pharisaical empire
You want me to follow the road you paved for me,
Never falling astray,
but I guess you forget that respect goes both ways
Trust me i know how to yell, you taught me very well
But this is nowhere near
Expression of emotion should never be oppressed.

If faithful souls be alike glorified
As angels, then my fathers soul doth see,
And adds this even to full felicity,
That valiantly I hells wide mouth o’erstride:
But if our minds to these souls be descried
By circumstances, and by signs that be
Apparent in us, not immediately,
How shall my mind’s white truth by them be tried?
They see idolatrous lovers weep and mourn,
And vile blasphemous conjurers to call
On Jesus name, and Pharisaical
Dissemblers feigne devotion. Then turn,
O pensive soul, to God, for he knows best
Thy true grief, for he put it in my breast.

The cosmic river of placidity our spiritual
Graveyard, laden illuminating the resevoirs
Of the sun serpents mineral kingdoms created
As the desecrated flowers of the
Universe decay,
The barren Earths machinery immortally
Combative rebirthing deaths plague.
Akashas victorious joy reflecting the
Sillohettes of times ardititious travellings
Fleeting, the strength of withered spirits
Collective daydreams upon solacses fallen
Fields of despair, redeeming justices
Patience provocating abeyance.
The irredescent golden amber of an iron
Roses kindling flame; katabolisms landscape
Transcending sunsets incarnate pharisaical
Clouds defying agonising temptations rising
On the wind of sanctimonious whispers
Working the stagnate temper of
Choas' repining heart.


ELEETE J MUIR.

Trust me i know how to yell, you taught me very well,
But this is merely speaking

I thought if I screamed you'd finally
Hear me when I say I want to cry until we’re floating in the Dead Sea
And my heart no longer curses me with the density to sink

I thought you might feel the teeth gnawing inside
These bones, these veins
Ripping my heart and destroying my brain
But of course you didn't, I've done this since I was five

Im trying to escape this catastrophe,
But you coerce until my original thoughts become extinct
Hear me when i say i want to shriek until my reflection shatters
And my soul can equally and oppositely be repaired
Someday i hope my insides can scream as loud as they desire
When ill no longer live under your pharisaical empire

Trust me i know how to yell, you taught me very well
But this is nowhere near