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"principled" poems
Can the unstoppable force overcome the immovable object? The waves have been a teacher with more wisdom than any I have ever had before. Something so constant, so committed, so unflappable as the lapping or crashing of the waves upon the shore. If you need any evidence of her relentless nature, look no further than the foreshore, great boulders and cliff faces worn down to grit. A true mechanical entity, with precise surety, well versed in engineering, mathematics, weather patterns and fluid dynamics. Who would have thought a philosophical question would have an engineering solution? The answer is no, but the question lacks precision, it doesn't quite paint the picture as it happens. I dive into the crashing waves, stretched out long, offering no resistance, the wash thunders around me but still I glide forward in the water like a shark, no resistance. I am the immovable object. Suspended weightless I overcome the unstoppable force by holding ground, offering no resistance as it rages around and past me, trying to capsize me or push me backwards. The way of the seas, the ultimate peacemaker. The parallels to life do not need pointing out thus, especially to those who fight for justice, the Davids versus their Goliaths. History's great peacemakers have been here before, the art of war is in passive resistance, principled adherence coupled with civil disobedience, your silence is considered tacit acceptance, so be not silent but give unto Caesar that which is Caesars. The fight is an uphill playing field, you must play by their rules, or the game is over, but you can win by their rules if you know where they bend. So stand peacemakers, face rows of riot shields, plow fields as Te Whiti did, collect salt as Gandhi, be not silent, tip toe that fine line between real change and hard time, wherever you see injustice speak, and seek conciliation. Peace is not achieved when nations put down their guns, peace is achieved when people embrace their neighbors as their brothers and sisters. It is achieved when people no longer speak of peace with longing in the same breath as cursing the person that parked in their carpark. Be peace and you will see peace, wish not to see it in the world if you cannot be it in your world. Change yourself and the world changes with you. So can the unstoppable force overcome the immovable object? That much is up to you.
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Dec 18, 2012
Dec 18, 2012 at 7:15 PM UTC
Rise of the Peacemaker
Can the unstoppable force overcome the immovable object? The waves have been a teacher with more wisdom than any I have ever had before. Something so constant, so committed, so unflappable as the lapping or crashing of the waves upon the shore. If you need any evidence of her relentless nature, look no further than the foreshore, great boulders and cliff faces worn down to grit. A true mechanical entity, with precise surety, well versed in engineering, mathematics, weather patterns and fluid dynamics. Who would have thought a philosophical question would have an engineering solution? The answer is no, but the question lacks precision, it doesn't quite paint the picture as it happens. I dive into the crashing waves, stretched out long, offering no resistance, the wash thunders around me but still I glide forward in the water like a shark, no resistance. I am the immovable object. Suspended weightless I overcome the unstoppable force by holding ground, offering no resistance as it rages around and past me, trying to capsize me or push me backwards. The way of the seas, the ultimate peacemaker. The parallels to life do not need pointing out thus, especially to those who fight for justice, the Davids versus their Goliaths. History's great peacemakers have been here before, the art of war is in passive resistance, principled adherence coupled with civil disobedience, your silence is considered tacit acceptance, so be not silent but give unto Caesar that which is Caesars. The fight is an uphill playing field, you must play by their rules, or the game is over, but you can win by their rules if you know where they bend. So stand peacemakers, face rows of riot shields, plow fields as Te Whiti did, collect salt as Gandhi, be not silent, tip toe that fine line between real change and hard time, wherever you see injustice speak, and seek conciliation. Peace is not achieved when nations put down their guns, peace is achieved when people embrace their neighbors as their brothers and sisters. It is achieved when people no longer speak of peace with longing in the same breath as cursing the person that parked in their carpark. Be peace and you will see peace, wish not to see it in the world if you cannot be it in your world. Change yourself and the world changes with you. So can the unstoppable force overcome the immovable object? That much is up to you.
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2
**** men predatory *** hounds chasing skirts and tights aching **** idiots disciples of Eros Christs of fetish reconciling nothing veiling that principled demeanor of feminist culture "of don't objectify me".....translation sensual form is not natures ruse machine Eve must override override override well the id does not negotiate the superstructure of affected political tele-reality starring the liberal chattering class who speculate male motives to be some vainglorious power trip while corporatized media personalities feign out of control lust as a mental disorder and sit up like shuddering Pekingese yessing the lascivious as a fiction no ladies its not just power theories are not testosterone it is pure unadulterated relentless irreducible urge to merge like the beluga **** channel sea world as you've never seen it before where male dolphins batter and gang bang the weaker *** in search of feral harmony in an overbuilt society yet to become a civilization are we scissored between a wild ****** id of the damed and the Victorian sacred of the damed oh you silky damsels makin men moody and humid pure **** heroine a poison ivy of *** like a rash givin men folk the itch cant stop the twitch rubber ******* in a rubbing frenzy from your soaking heat and odor we are  a rumbling of muttering torments for the forbidden taste of you oooow oooow we are pan in a mad dance for glistening shanks and buttery kisses we are the early bird looking for the worm hunters decreed by the liturgy of heaven and hell a constellation of infatuation and lechery mad with adoration love slaves in a raging furnace of desire *** addicts that just say yes turgid dogs hole sniffers voluptuous monsters all johnny apple seed and sometimes your salvation as you are ours knowing that sometimes real eroticism eclipses morality and yes my darlings* NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
0
Dec 15, 2017
Dec 15, 2017 at 12:55 PM UTC
THE TERROR OF WOMEN
**** men predatory *** hounds chasing skirts and tights aching **** idiots disciples of Eros Christs of fetish reconciling nothing veiling that principled demeanor of feminist culture "of don't objectify me".....translation sensual form is not natures ruse machine Eve must override override override well the id does not negotiate the superstructure of affected political tele-reality starring the liberal chattering class who speculate male motives to be some vainglorious power trip while corporatized media personalities feign out of control lust as a mental disorder and sit up like shuddering Pekingese yessing the lascivious as a fiction no ladies its not just power theories are not testosterone it is pure unadulterated relentless irreducible urge to merge like the beluga **** channel sea world as you've never seen it before where male dolphins batter and gang bang the weaker *** in search of feral harmony in an overbuilt society yet to become a civilization are we scissored between a wild ****** id of the damed and the Victorian sacred of the damed oh you silky damsels makin men moody and humid pure **** heroine a poison ivy of *** like a rash givin men folk the itch cant stop the twitch rubber ******* in a rubbing frenzy from your soaking heat and odor we are  a rumbling of muttering torments for the forbidden taste of you oooow oooow we are pan in a mad dance for glistening shanks and buttery kisses we are the early bird looking for the worm hunters decreed by the liturgy of heaven and hell a constellation of infatuation and lechery mad with adoration love slaves in a raging furnace of desire *** addicts that just say yes turgid dogs hole sniffers voluptuous monsters all johnny apple seed and sometimes your salvation as you are ours knowing that sometimes real eroticism eclipses morality and yes my darlings* NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER NO MAN SHOULD EVER TRANSGRESS ANOTHER
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102
Ageing so  beautifully. Classically as diamonds do, never ageing gracefully Her eyes fire her up, fire you up too, This Goddess,brings forth the huntress, out on the **** for a thrill. Never cheap. This individual will never ever weep. Just a kindly miss, not lonely, So don't take the Michael. Nourishment needed. Overtly she's principled. Quintessential English, Rapturous as summer days and Sundays. This trusting Utopian dreamer. Vehement pen. Wicked humour full of woman. X rated at times,youthful and zany. (C)Livvi
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Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 3:21 PM UTC
PORTRAIT
Integrity is the value You place on yourself You keep your own promises You know yourself well You don’t compromise Your values, your core Because that never changes From what went before Then you can be open And give your support Be flexible Life just can’t distort Or toss you around By what others think You’ll see opportunities Not pull back from the brink You’ll try those new things With a principled life In confidence Not on whim You’ll always decide You’ll plan your direction And not just react You know who you are And you have the map You prepare your own future On the screen of your mind Long before it happens It’s already designed No matter how adverse Or how dark the hour Your hope burns within And gives you new power You pick yourself up Rejoicing in faith Energizing your life And fulfilling your days
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Feb 14, 2010
Feb 14, 2010 at 5:22 PM UTC
Integrity
So primitive that it should be criminal like a limited pyramid of minimal innocent citizen, inhabitant, or denizen infinite vision and mission subliminal principled, committed and disciplined addicted to the privileged derivative affirmative velocity, motive inquisitive inhabiting, uninhibited, where prohibited
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Feb 6, 2014
Feb 6, 2014 at 1:47 AM UTC
Denizens of a Dark Derivative
In the year 3131 They come to devour our suns Terrible, godlike, interstellar giants Inconceivable beyond all reason and science. Humanity and all her colonies, Divided amongst the galaxies, Finally united once and for all For our race dare not fall! To eliminate the threat of annihilation We constructed planet-sized stations That house massive and powerful guns To protect and defend our vulnerable suns. As our fears vanished behind us Those in control sought to rebind us For systems of authority never change, Not even with pervasive freedom in range. With the powerful distracted by their lust, For control over every speck of dust, There emerged a demented cult That believes our race is at fault, And beings that come from above Do so out of divine, parental love. These naive and delusional zealots, Inspired by avarice long embellished, By a ruthless society lacking empathy, Have developed an ever enduring apathy. Seeking to destroy our only defenses, They mount violent and ****** offensives, Their rugged, disorderly fleets crucify As humanity is unable to reunify. However, there is another cooperative effort, A last stand, self-organized endeavor, This vigilante group battles cultist detestables They call themselves The Solar Sentinels. Bound by a principled, passionate collaboration, The Solar Sentinels defend all people and nations, Engineers and military minds come together To ensure our survival and prosper, whatsoever. Now, one existential question remains: Will humanity break free of its chains, Awaken, realize that we are all one, Disregard old orders and save our suns?
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Dec 2, 2018
Dec 2, 2018 at 2:43 PM UTC
THE SOLAR SENTINELS
In the year 3131 They come to devour our suns Terrible, godlike, interstellar giants Inconceivable beyond all reason and science. Humanity and all her colonies, Divided amongst the galaxies, Finally united once and for all For our race dare not fall! To eliminate the threat of annihilation We constructed planet-sized stations That house massive and powerful guns To protect and defend our vulnerable suns. As our fears vanished behind us Those in control sought to rebind us For systems of authority never change, Not even with pervasive freedom in range. With the powerful distracted by their lust, For control over every speck of dust, There emerged a demented cult That believes our race is at fault, And beings that come from above Do so out of divine, parental love. These naive and delusional zealots, Inspired by avarice long embellished, By a ruthless society lacking empathy, Have developed an ever enduring apathy. Seeking to destroy our only defenses, They mount violent and ****** offensives, Their rugged, disorderly fleets crucify As humanity is unable to reunify. However, there is another cooperative effort, A last stand, self-organized endeavor, This vigilante group battles cultist detestables They call themselves The Solar Sentinels. Bound by a principled, passionate collaboration, The Solar Sentinels defend all people and nations, Engineers and military minds come together To ensure our survival and prosper, whatsoever. Now, one existential question remains: Will humanity break free of its chains, Awaken, realize that we are all one, Disregard old orders and save our suns?
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42
muse, *she/her has no master, only a mastery; she, comes compulsing, a physical pounding, a throbbing impervious resistant to logic or medicine, which is the so very ever, the peculiar throbbing of a principled particular “present participle,”* *write of compulsing is her mocking suggestion.* *a presence, punishing urging, pas de choix, obey, submission; write freely but not free, compose or decompose; is there a difference, no, not, and so ordered, demand surrendered, how? how? this taking and giving, can a single act dichotomy be so fulfilling and so emptying?* <> wake daily to water canvas, the waves, dabs of paint protruding, irritating. provoking yet presented silenced, repetitiously calming, motioned framed within the white edged sand, the bound-surround of the living painting. eyes alight, eyes delight, this daily emergence unto a tapestry devoid of human interference suggests a differentiating reality; now I understand the how of a world’s imperfections constituting, tooting its own perfectionism. this is not lake water; no single flat stone skipping nor a concentric rippling to a slow death; this is seaward- bound, an oceans subservient tributary, contributory, a river, bay, sound - precursors to a vast atlantic infinity. this is metaphor; this a still life of the perpetuation metamorphosis. <> *the muse exhales; as do I subsequently; what difference? none, she replies to herself, tween painting artist and verbalizing poet, the un-still life creation, always, always, different, the essence of diversity in a singularity sameness*                                                            7:13 AM Thu Jul 29 2021 S. I. Sound
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Jul 29, 2021
Jul 29, 2021 at 7:59 AM UTC
The Compulsing Muse / The Water Canvas Still Life
muse, *she/her has no master, only a mastery; she, comes compulsing, a physical pounding, a throbbing impervious resistant to logic or medicine, which is the so very ever, the peculiar throbbing of a principled particular “present participle,”* *write of compulsing is her mocking suggestion.* *a presence, punishing urging, pas de choix, obey, submission; write freely but not free, compose or decompose; is there a difference, no, not, and so ordered, demand surrendered, how? how? this taking and giving, can a single act dichotomy be so fulfilling and so emptying?* <> wake daily to water canvas, the waves, dabs of paint protruding, irritating. provoking yet presented silenced, repetitiously calming, motioned framed within the white edged sand, the bound-surround of the living painting. eyes alight, eyes delight, this daily emergence unto a tapestry devoid of human interference suggests a differentiating reality; now I understand the how of a world’s imperfections constituting, tooting its own perfectionism. this is not lake water; no single flat stone skipping nor a concentric rippling to a slow death; this is seaward- bound, an oceans subservient tributary, contributory, a river, bay, sound - precursors to a vast atlantic infinity. this is metaphor; this a still life of the perpetuation metamorphosis. <> *the muse exhales; as do I subsequently; what difference? none, she replies to herself, tween painting artist and verbalizing poet, the un-still life creation, always, always, different, the essence of diversity in a singularity sameness*                                                            7:13 AM Thu Jul 29 2021 S. I. Sound
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34
With daily renewing of the mind, one is bound to learn and find ideas for personal resolutions that lead to a Kingdom solution. Having Godly ideals and attitudes, is more than possessing platitudes. It’s about one’s choices and lifestyle that leads to a life being worthwhile. To be a true child of God, one must have His Love shed abroad and present in one’s actions to obtain spiritual satisfaction. For faith is not about power and earnings, but one’s ability for… principled learning. . . . Author Notes: Loosely based on: Rom 12:1-8 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
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Nov 21, 2013
Nov 21, 2013 at 11:51 AM UTC
Poem: Principled Learning
Broken Fence Possibly the strangest way to start a piece and its ultimate purpose is to cry for our country it has so Many elements let’s start with the innate gifts it provides it’s a story of history when this fence was new Washington Jefferson Adams and the other founding fathers were plainly viewed stalwart strong not Perfect but principled and within this rough hewn wood that had plenty of eyesores but such is the Material God uses I don’t care to look back in a romantic or sentimental way but with the clearest eye Demand of our selves honesty that will not lead us into unreasonable thoughts that will only weaken us More but allow truth to work its constructive influence a movement through our conscience that will Find in us the same store house of power that lead our fore fathers to face ridicule and stare death in The face and not waver courage forged in battle that rose from the heaps of dead patriots that saw a Nation of free men not minions of soulless weaklings paying tribute to someone else’s twisted fanciful Schemes they looked far into the future and did see pastoral scenes where broken whitened fences Were the collective places where wild flowers grow with breath taking beauty where gentle breezes are Born from the inward souls of free men they carry this view by flowery fragrance it wafts far a field Giving joy and pleasure as free men and women toil under a golden sun of opportunity through good Honest hard work the land will endure and produce bounty for untold generations but it is going to take A people who will engage in the battle and it will have to take another revolution to remove the Quagmire that cripples political will and leaves everyone at risk of losing such a treasure that was Bequeathed to us at such great cost this is not an endorsement of the tea party or the occupy Movement but somewhere beyond their feeble stumbling steps the answer is there as it was in the Beginning it will take each of us searching and giving our all to find it we will never find it crying for something so grand and asking to pay nothing for it
0
Jan 31, 2012
Jan 31, 2012 at 1:15 AM UTC
Broken Fence
Broken Fence Possibly the strangest way to start a piece and its ultimate purpose is to cry for our country it has so Many elements let’s start with the innate gifts it provides it’s a story of history when this fence was new Washington Jefferson Adams and the other founding fathers were plainly viewed stalwart strong not Perfect but principled and within this rough hewn wood that had plenty of eyesores but such is the Material God uses I don’t care to look back in a romantic or sentimental way but with the clearest eye Demand of our selves honesty that will not lead us into unreasonable thoughts that will only weaken us More but allow truth to work its constructive influence a movement through our conscience that will Find in us the same store house of power that lead our fore fathers to face ridicule and stare death in The face and not waver courage forged in battle that rose from the heaps of dead patriots that saw a Nation of free men not minions of soulless weaklings paying tribute to someone else’s twisted fanciful Schemes they looked far into the future and did see pastoral scenes where broken whitened fences Were the collective places where wild flowers grow with breath taking beauty where gentle breezes are Born from the inward souls of free men they carry this view by flowery fragrance it wafts far a field Giving joy and pleasure as free men and women toil under a golden sun of opportunity through good Honest hard work the land will endure and produce bounty for untold generations but it is going to take A people who will engage in the battle and it will have to take another revolution to remove the Quagmire that cripples political will and leaves everyone at risk of losing such a treasure that was Bequeathed to us at such great cost this is not an endorsement of the tea party or the occupy Movement but somewhere beyond their feeble stumbling steps the answer is there as it was in the Beginning it will take each of us searching and giving our all to find it we will never find it crying for something so grand and asking to pay nothing for it
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22
The First Poem of the Day: Thou are not Nameless I shall call you Lovely, for unenumerated reasons. Yet you may account, accept, number, my unseen caring, daren't to disbelieve, as reason number One. Naming you is a perk, Awarded to myself by myself For somethings are too Marvelous, Like those words that are my principled friends, Principals and principles, not or, These words, like you, you, you, like Lovely and Goodness,    All the days of your life,    even tho so many are devoid thereof. I tender to you. To myself. This First poem of the day. Screen name only protects so much, You can't screen, veil out the Brutal and the ugly, the dread of Just Another Day. The shrieking silence from the pretend friends, The holy dark inside that we born with. Hurt, you think you know only, best, So Here is this something  you can rely on, Something you count on as reason number One. Amazing that with words, really each a miracle, Stop, think upon it, You understand me because of the uncommon commonality, the community of words, A universe of words shared, Principal words are principles. So empowered are we, I cannot leave you Nameless, How could I, Oh I cannot alone save you, Tho I desperately want to Because we share principal words that are principles. I name you lovely and goodness, Could not leave you ever Nameless Here now and in this, the First poem of the day.
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Jun 8, 2013
Jun 8, 2013 at 2:50 AM UTC
The First Poem of the Day: Thou are not Nameless
They call me The Alpha... My community calls me the Alpha Female A-don't care... A not senstitive soul. A Hurt-resistant human. Dating a couple people at the same time they say is my policy They have a picture of  me in their minds, So they don't mind. They don't care... afterall am resistant to pain right? Here is THE TRUE story. I Love...I Feel...I hurt Yes I Do. Maybe I have to put a brave front so I don't look desperate but No, I Love. I Do. eg. There is this particular soul, #sigh Her beauty caught my eye since that picnic... Its been a year now...and I still Love her. I hate admitting it. It makes me weak. So weak because we have never gone exclusive. I Stand firm...stern...composed. Untill I hear a song by one "JOSHUA RADING" and Like a drunk I lose my composture I ran... I hide... I cry. Then I wipe my eyes and come out of the room, all re-created. Nothing solid has taken place between US, but deep I feel she is the ONE. Back then, I was ready, she wasn't...now, am not ready, but she is. I wish I could let her see herself through my eyes... just to see what she means to me. But it all goes to the same point, she told her friends "She is way out of my league, I can't afford her" I Hate the label humans have put on my forehead That makes it hard to be Loved. Am just human. Principled and independent YES, BUT WITH A HEART TOO. It Hurts...it's pains. But I will OUTLIVE this mentality. And someday, SHE WILL BE MINE, AND I, HER'S. ©The Unspoken
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Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 7:42 AM UTC
A-Slave(Alpha Slave)
We search for justice in our pastime, Finding some meaning in our hobbies. Claiming leisurable acts stand for purpose, A campaign leading to respected commitment. People desire pursuits by warranted devotion, Allegiance propels loyalty to principled activities. Sometimes—just appreciating fun is gratifying enough, Exploring no reason for enjoying positive interests. Pleasure can prevail more without its complicated morals, Letting excitement shine by value of uncommitted thrills.
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Sep 12, 2016
Sep 12, 2016 at 11:02 AM UTC
Not Everything Needs Meaning
When entering the realm of another Try to connect by being receptive Relate to appropriate space Approachable pathways through principled heart centred objectives Display the routes to sincerity by observing a faithful open perspective
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Nov 6, 2020
Nov 6, 2020 at 5:38 AM UTC
Accessibility
Yes, you don't know me. You just think that you do. I am the mysterious one, elusive and highly talented, unassuming and modest, a bit of a recluse, an object of mingled awe and revulsion, simultaneously revered and abhorred, a misunderstood soul, yet lovable. I am the noble one, with a beautiful Soul, The one created in Gods image. You just don't know me. You think you do. Your opinion of me may be right or my be wrong, depending on the platform you stand to view. I am a healer, a seer, I am unique, I am Special, I am an enigma, the Called, the Justified, Predestinated, the odd fellow. I am the Chosen One. The one the Holy Spirit is Pleased to dwell in. I am a Prophet. The joint-heir with Christ. I am many things to different people. And because I chose to be peaceful doesn't mean I don't know how to fight. I may have a gentle touch, but I am not at all weak. I am principled. I respect you, and I ask that you do too. All I ever want is for you to remember me as loving you. ©® Emeka Mokeme.2017,All rights reserved.
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Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 8:14 AM UTC
I AM PECULIAR.
In a principled mind, which formed speculatively at best, on cognition and dreams, desires and subliminal manifestations of life's energies, I stumbled upon and repetively focused on the unpleasant aspect my mind seemed to be, of somehow this other me, like a curtain over a window to my entirety. I was mostly here on this side of the thick veil, or was I? There was more , I was certain. More to me. I found art the desire to create at odds with my desires to self destruct. I ran around the mural slashing as I colored the sky the most appealing blues. I spoke of peace while killing a lamb for dinner. I slid under death one way or another one day and caught the other me saying , I meet you again- At Last.
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Apr 23, 2017
Apr 23, 2017 at 3:11 PM UTC
Thanatos and Eros
Being well principled, Is called "old skool", And its not easy to hold on tight To good principles,but even when you manage you're called a fool, Its like the tv,social media have really become the devils tool, Natural beauty is called ugly, Its said only make up can fix you greatly, That's the ******* we're beginning to consume, I think we need to pause,rewind to the time of good principles,then resume. An ideal body image is set, And if you don't measure up to that,your looks aren't great, The question is who's anyone, To set up such standards for everyone? Accept and love who you are, Make your own rules, Don't let anyone define who you are.
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Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 9:35 AM UTC
Life and living ; this day and era
A Spate of Inspiration for Global Turn-up [SIGT] Spate: Inspiration: Global: Turn-up: I have spent time tracking my routes that is where actually l came from forgetting where I am going because it’s already brighter than I thought. I have seen many ups and downs but the thing that surprises me is that every time I was down the next thing was to rise. There is this time I think of running away from the point that somebody inspired me to move and rise but I get back when I see no option but that. Inspiration has a long history originally said to come from divine or supernatural forces. It is a blessing or a gift that cannot be bought from the physical markets but are found by grace in the gardens of wisdom not willed. It’s something that we cannot live without and without it, will be living but in void. Inspiration gives us hope. It allows us to transcend our ordinary experiences and limitations and is a strong driver of the attainment of our goals, productivity, creativity and well being. It helps a person to transform from experiencing a culture of apathy to experiencing a world of possibility. The storms are darker but they use lightning as the lamp to see where rain can be dropped in the midst of the night. No meter how black the cloud is the light will always shine in the inner core of the darkness. Learning from nature we are inspired to know that the darker the clouds the faster the lighting will be meaning that in every harsh situation the chip of hope will flash from the gardens of wisdom in the innermost being. I usually say to myself if we are guided by the theories and formulas of some other wise and principled people why can’t we create a wisdom machine in our souls to give us the same formulae or otherwise but recreating the way we think and the way we act to guide us. Why can’t we just make our own beings, creating a trail for our tail, as we sail in the sea of darkness? Bringing life to the dead’s darkest nights and make them see the light in their day dream so that maybe they can wake up and start to live a real life of hope. In the midst of darkness take any opportunity to make your light shine brighter
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Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 4:57 AM UTC
A Spate of Inspiration for Global Turn-up [SIGT]
A Spate of Inspiration for Global Turn-up [SIGT] Spate: Inspiration: Global: Turn-up: I have spent time tracking my routes that is where actually l came from forgetting where I am going because it’s already brighter than I thought. I have seen many ups and downs but the thing that surprises me is that every time I was down the next thing was to rise. There is this time I think of running away from the point that somebody inspired me to move and rise but I get back when I see no option but that. Inspiration has a long history originally said to come from divine or supernatural forces. It is a blessing or a gift that cannot be bought from the physical markets but are found by grace in the gardens of wisdom not willed. It’s something that we cannot live without and without it, will be living but in void. Inspiration gives us hope. It allows us to transcend our ordinary experiences and limitations and is a strong driver of the attainment of our goals, productivity, creativity and well being. It helps a person to transform from experiencing a culture of apathy to experiencing a world of possibility. The storms are darker but they use lightning as the lamp to see where rain can be dropped in the midst of the night. No meter how black the cloud is the light will always shine in the inner core of the darkness. Learning from nature we are inspired to know that the darker the clouds the faster the lighting will be meaning that in every harsh situation the chip of hope will flash from the gardens of wisdom in the innermost being. I usually say to myself if we are guided by the theories and formulas of some other wise and principled people why can’t we create a wisdom machine in our souls to give us the same formulae or otherwise but recreating the way we think and the way we act to guide us. Why can’t we just make our own beings, creating a trail for our tail, as we sail in the sea of darkness? Bringing life to the dead’s darkest nights and make them see the light in their day dream so that maybe they can wake up and start to live a real life of hope. In the midst of darkness take any opportunity to make your light shine brighter
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Warning ducks be not proud! if loose lips sink ships, stubborn fingers typing end platonic virtual pen pal ships. E-mailing tenderly saying: Hello, how do you do? Sharing ones pains or joys; a lifetimes treasures found or lost, love's worth's heart aches shared doesn't mean instant intimate nor lifetime attachment past, present nor future exist. Assuming it does is deadly. True love's bank is many gated wisely sternly guarded. Multifaceted seven faced is love. love treasured lives within, shared on free will basis. Is all love sane and good? Is all love offered G#d sourced? I'm wise to know true love's worth. Multifaceted gates is love, love either given or received a two edge sword wisely is. Accepted or rejected must honor boundaries. Love's sanctuary nest is free will principled where love endures true. ~~~~~~~ By Karijinbba All Rights 2021-06.
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Jun 4, 2021
Jun 4, 2021 at 3:39 PM UTC
Multifaceted gates of love
Jenna was a seasoned actress. She never put a fight with colleges or directors. And fans, they lusted after her, but she was always kind to pushy faces. Jenna was well-balanced. Jenna was a diligent Christian. In the XXI century, she prayed for the good of every citizen. She never missed a single mass. She gave money to dirt poor lads, and she was a volunteer for UVN. She was magnanimous and principled. Jenna was a loving mother. For breakfast, she cooked bacon and brownies. Her 20-year-old daughter Kate was still afraid to go out without permission. Kate wore classy clothes, but she loved Metallica. Jenna was noble, and she couldn't allow Kate to have a punk attire. Jenna was a happy woman. She took her vitamins every noon. She loved taking long strolls along the river. That Friday, she had a script and a Bible in her purse. Jenna stopped by the stone railing, and feverishly threw the purse into the stony water.
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Nov 6, 2019
Nov 6, 2019 at 6:58 AM UTC
Jenna was
I spiral happ’ly in, I feel my flesh dissolve to wet, to gaseous mess and flow flow flow into the asterism that is her extra latte French roast Eye... She asks, “What do you see?” I see Himalayan diamond dust, the wind as particle, sharing the Sun in glints. I see spiral arms and accretion discs. I see stardust, moondust, lovedust in great grand colorful interwebbings of lust, of truth, of song, of delight, of Us. I see RGB Grand Walls of stars; organized in mind but cosmologically principled. I see the possibilities of galaxies - Unformed Adrift Reaching Cooling Collecting Heating Sparking. Life giving life. Lifegiving, Life. I see an unspoken Universe of Dust - Awake to Dance, to dance to Life. I see Love. I see Beauty. I see worlds not yet. I see suns unshone. I see comets unknown. I see tidepools. I see fields of fuzzies. I see Seas. I see mountains and valleys. I see Forest. I see Love. I see her, and in her, I see a world, a cosmos, a way; a way I’d rather be. A way I’d rather live. I see Love. I see her. Through tears, I see the limitless warmth of an unlimited Un iv er se in her tawny toffee coffee Eye.
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Jan 27, 2019
Jan 27, 2019 at 3:24 PM UTC
I’m Pouring, Sluicing into Her Eyes
“We’ve been dreaming of this since you and I were drinking out of a keg.” Oh how sweet it must be, how sweet the moment, as it finally arrives, oh so breathlessly, so eagerly anticipated. This idea whose first beautiful dawning came as a bunch of youthful, oh so youthful & ambitious conservative white boys shared some beers together Saturday night & dreamed that one day, one day, poor folks would be kicked off Medicare ... oh how sweet it is ... the realized ambitions of eager & principled youth.
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Mar 18, 2017
Mar 18, 2017 at 4:12 PM UTC
Paul Ryan gets his dream ... or It's Alright Ma, Paul is Smiling.
You'd say I was foolish or more likely, delusional. I'd say you're right, and I'd smile inwardly You'd say it can't be done, your shareholders would never allow it I'd say, if they know what's good for them they will You'd ask, what kind of shareholders do you think you have? I'd say, hand-picked .... principled You'd say, it's a stretch, but it's your delusion I'd say, I've already done it ... And I'd ask, can delusion and reality exist on the same plane? You'd think: ******** I'd smile inwardly
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Oct 1, 2014
Oct 1, 2014 at 10:39 PM UTC
What if I created a billion dollar company and gave it away for a poem?
Lord, give me the heart of a seeker Give me the love of a teacher The patience of a caring parent The wisdom of the aged ones The energy and joy of the young Lord, give me the heart of a seeker Give me the vision of the dreamer The hope from a heart filled with faith The peace of a life lived in grace The satisfaction of knowing you Lord, give me the heart of a seeker Give me the zeal of the preacher The depth and breadth like the ocean And the delight in my daily devotion The firmness of a foundation on the rock Lord, give me the heart of a seeker Give me the hands of a healer The power of persistent prayer The knowledge that you are there The courage to accept the answer Lord, give me the heart of a seeker Give me the faith of the truest believer The purity of principled passion The clarity of the chosen calling The strength and fortitude to ascend Lord, give me the heart of a seeker Look with favor upon your creature For, I still need a savior, a redeemer The love of your law makes me freer And as I go, draw me in ever deeper
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Nov 20, 2024
Nov 20, 2024 at 11:17 PM UTC
Heart of a Seeker