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"piousness" poems
She covers for God Not you Are you worthy Of her will to be true? To the word As it is written Not of man But begotten Into the cradle Of our existence Heard by those Who lower their resistance To what is holy Not on earth But in heaven Where a woman’s worth Is measured By the blessing Of her womb Life-giving and supporting Each new creation Equally touched By the unseen But untouched By sin Until the apple is offered By the bare flesh To our sons and daughters Yes she suffers Behind the cloak Of piousness Wearing its yoke Until the strength Of one man’s soul Reveals itself To make her whole As it was intended For man and woman But not before He has proven His understanding That a hijab Is not weakness But God’s robe Which he dare part To find paradise In the strength He saw in her eyes
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Mar 5, 2012
Mar 5, 2012 at 3:05 PM UTC
Hijab
*Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother or sister who sins against me? Up to seven times?” Jesus answered, "I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times."*                     - Matthew the Apostle I Seventy-seven bottles of gin lie in the guts of sensuous men; seventy-seven I forgive you's dissolve in a fanatical mind's resolve. II What offence occurred under Saint Constantine's priggish eye? Was it specious as a Samian's thigh? Or Sumerians receiving alien diplomats? Maybe somewhere far under Moscow Putin's massing cloning vats... III Whatever discursive and belligerent milieu church authority finds most tried and true seems to be the most important decider in the future of things like the Large Hadron Collider. Perhaps, unfoundedly, they find it funny that Higgs (though it seems much like calling the Liberal Party "Whigs") is a name shared by a man and a theoretical particle (though it be libelous in any journalist's article), and thus label similar advancements as "blasphemous". I guess that this is what it is: believing just because. IV Who can know blasphemy from piousness? Maybe all Luther did was obfuscate a prior mess. V Seventy-seven palm-branch-adorned, donkey-riding kings: an automatic-ring-making-machine beleaguering proselyte rings.
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Sep 19, 2012
Sep 19, 2012 at 1:40 AM UTC
Palm Sunday Penance
Prejudice implications of a zealous mind Hypocrisy, your piousness defined Don't explain the visions you claim to see Omnipotence, embracing the oblique obscurity So Sick of your fundamental ways ; tried true hypocrite Don't push your anachronistic views on me ; I am so sick of it. Your religious persuasion is just an exchange of confusion Please keep your hands and thoughts to yourself Reverent Lip Service, Fanatical Delusion I am sorry that I gave you the impression that I cared. Awake, awake  my dear when will you awake Suffering delusions caused by 2000 years of crusades
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Mar 20, 2015
Mar 20, 2015 at 10:22 PM UTC
Exchange of Confusion
the hand that rubs my body down is soft: softly veined & of a powder-white translucence; transcribed from dover chalks to run down my chest, backs of my thighs. the hand that rubs my body down curves in sweet musics 'round my soul; the shrill but beaut'ous rasp of skin on skin -- of fingertips tracing strange poetry along my spine. the hand that rubs my body down holds in its palm a sacred oil; anointing me at midnight hour. muted bewitchments; burns the candle down to a nub. the hand that rubs my body down calls for christ in attics of sunday afternoon ...          crosses its fingers in spiteful fits of piousness. the hand that rubs my body down takes the shape of golden scarab; sets aflame my eyes of beaming azure & finds in me a willing servant. the hand that rubs my body down wakes me at dawn, partnered   with an extension of pinpointed warmth: the touch of her breath upon my cheek.
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Mar 25, 2012
Mar 25, 2012 at 7:41 PM UTC
the hand that rubs my body down
to idolize a segregated love against fear, that knows nothing of failure, hurt, destruction to cage evil, to make evil, by making cages and to venerate, righteously, some ideological and illogical heaven to loose sight, of the dark and be blinded, in sheer light is to forget beauty, real beauty is lost in piousness in gross over simplifications in staunch suppositions, unintelligent and heartless, some dreary mundane banality; and to lose beauty, is to lose life. without death you are dead and if there were only good there would be no good at all and truth is true by falsifiability never lose sight of the terror that waxes at beauties heart with trembling and real love, shaking for the unshakeable, and put demons in their place next to angels, bring shadows to the light, or you'll know nothing of great dreams of shifting colour and hue and shade and shine and here we are and here we are I say give me it all, I'll refuse nothing, grant me totality, hand in hand with my union- godly I am for wholeness- divided I am for the world I am a lover feel, I need to feel I am a lover sense, I need to sense I am an artist see, I need to see this reality: here, to hide nothing to hide nothing to hide nothing and see forever!
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 4:00 PM UTC
to hide nothing, and see forever
You're beautiful Her heart leaked though sweat soaked pores hardening into black fragmented biotite to hold her in the prison of her own piousness Feldspar crystal kneecaps vine intertwining into the lost rock city Rita was your lascivious sin worth stitching your soul with Zizyphus Spina Christi to the barren waste lands of your repentance He kissed you while standing in death's door with sickened veins You grasped hold and pulled him back from the shadows of the valley He loved you by the alter of your Father as you bled your tongue in silence You vowed to lay with no other man than Him almighty But your vow broke like straw in the sweet summer heat Now your head remains bowed waiting for your soft breeze of forgiveness As the ground shifts, as the wind blows Your body shudders, slipping fragments of your nose, ears, arms, feet, ******* eyes, and fingers slide from you As your lips crumble to rest upon your thigh You cry out, vibrations leading to your demise. Screaming for the ones who have forsaken, weeping for Him who has smited you by turning your soul to stone. Though it all with in your eternal poignancy, and never ending rage You're still magnificent. I don't believe that shall come to pass.
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Feb 23, 2017
Feb 23, 2017 at 3:17 PM UTC
Kneeling Nun.
Falling indomitable, but so naive; They told me that they wanted the best for me, they asked me to believe them, so I did. Seraphic voices taught me I’d be nothing without them only a blank page, only a waste of space So I swallowed my pride and accepted what I was taught to believe the voices in my head were relentless Ambitious as ever, I raised my voice but they were quick to hush me I was told to follow, to step down from my pedestal; No one likes raw, uncensored words, So I did as I was taught. Escape Beatific at first but now so warped, distorted blurry figures in my peripheral vision threatening to leave when I needed them most; My precious voices I held on oh, so dearly the creator of my own catastrophe, I built my own cage. Blissful with them Miserable without; Despised for my piousness, I set myself on fire for their comic relief. Struggling to breathe I was told I could have the world but not the truth, never the truth; There is no escape.
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Apr 30, 2019
Apr 30, 2019 at 7:30 AM UTC
Oh, so tired
I don't remember half the **** i said, nor do i remember half the **** i did. But i do remember the only way i could even function without you. One beer in one hand and a shot in the other was the only way to truly numb the pain. All of that just to be able to get out of bed after sleeping for 20-30 minutes a night, without being soaked and shaking in desperation that is. I do remember smiling, singing, and dancing during the day, until the night stole my happiness away; with a piousness liquid and drugs i was aware/unaware i had par taken in. I remember my motto became "Oh well." and "Who cares." I don't remember the pain in your eyes when i'd walk away leaving a foul stench behind me. My mind had taken control while my addition had swallowed me whole.   I don't even remember caring, if i could help it. I left the few small pieces of my heart and soul in you safe warm home. I do however remember almost dying in detox. I will never forget the violent shakes, ***** and heaves, barely being able to breathe for hours on end; being so close to death i could taste the dark dryness. The utter hopelessness had taken me to the point that i started praying to a god I had no belief in to end it all. Broken beyond repair as i pulled out my hair, hollow screams escaped into something less than the molecules in the air. Yet here i sit today, still ******* in tobacco smoke waiting, always waiting. But what exactly am i waiting for? For this incurable disease to take control once more? I have never been know for letting myself be happy for too long. Or is this really my first real chance at a fresh start with a mature mind?   Time will tell with many known/unknown colors, I suppose.
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Jul 13, 2015
Jul 13, 2015 at 7:00 PM UTC
What i do/don't remember (edited)
I don't remember half the **** i said, nor do i remember half the **** i did. But i do remember the only way i could even function without you. One beer in one hand and a shot in the other was the only way to truly numb the pain. All of that just to be able to get out of bed after sleeping for 20-30 minutes a night, without being soaked and shaking in desperation that is. I do remember smiling, singing, and dancing during the day, until the night stole my happiness away; with a piousness liquid and drugs i was aware/unaware i had par taken in. I remember my motto became "Oh well." and "Who cares." I don't remember the pain in your eyes when i'd walk away leaving a foul stench behind me. My mind had taken control while my addition had swallowed me whole.   I don't even remember caring, if i could help it. I left the few small pieces of my heart and soul in you safe warm home. I do however remember almost dying in detox. I will never forget the violent shakes, ***** and heaves, barely being able to breathe for hours on end; being so close to death i could taste the dark dryness. The utter hopelessness had taken me to the point that i started praying to a god I had no belief in to end it all. Broken beyond repair as i pulled out my hair, hollow screams escaped into something less than the molecules in the air. Yet here i sit today, still ******* in tobacco smoke waiting, always waiting. But what exactly am i waiting for? For this incurable disease to take control once more? I have never been know for letting myself be happy for too long. Or is this really my first real chance at a fresh start with a mature mind?   Time will tell with many known/unknown colors, I suppose.
Continue reading...
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Eager man to prove piousness when he’d not one per cent. Liking way he sounded to himself on and on he went. Not meaning to inconvenience oneself, no interruption lent. Held possession of microphone from assembly, church and tent. Gifted as he was it seemed parishioners drifted off. He lifted hands as she day-dreamed and held back her soft cough. “Ahem,” preacher’s wife did utter as last one did run off. “Amen to less the said,” said one as labor to impress bring scoff.
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Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 5:05 PM UTC
Holier Than
there’s an emptiness that consumes the world, like a newborn babe does her mother’s ******* it needs the force of life - to become a weapon for death; as it kills the light switch   in the warehouse of hope; as the sound of darkness blinds even the bats; as the echoes of piousness sink to turn lawless mercenaries; as the lantern flickers off to the heaving of hedonism that spawns in the void - dark, and unconquerable. until someone strikes a match.
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Dec 21, 2024
Dec 21, 2024 at 10:03 AM UTC
a song of hope
I solemnly worship in all my piousness; you have my loyalty. My adherence is yours, Lady and Lord, what is my duty to you? Need I give gold, need I give blood? Need I give life, need I die? My oath, to you, I shall not adjourn Fate; you have my piety.
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Aug 6, 2019
Aug 6, 2019 at 1:08 AM UTC
Duty Calls