"prosper" poems
What a wonderful view to see
The flowers and the trees in serenity
The people and animals strive for prosperity
For peace, mans’ natures’ unity
All united for every body’s equity.
A creation of such wonder and beauty
The birds’ one and only sanctuary
A product of God’s power of infinity
There’s no other majestic than a tree.
It stood so still and tall
Its rustling leaves gave a melodious song
Like a lullaby from far home
That someone would always long.
But now, man is blinded by treasures and selfish thoughts,
And forgot the tree’s such true and noble worth
He destroyed nature and the idea of balance he seems to abort
He thought that maybe with treasures he will go forth,
But never for if Mother Nature revenge he will be caught.
Buildings, computers and other inventions
These were the things which caught mans’ attention
Trees and animals suffered from mans continuous exploitation
Nature provided everything, so why can’t man give a little appreciation
Cut here, chopped there, cut here, chopped there
What a pity the fate of the trees were
The forest was swept off, hectare by hectare,
What a fool man was to think he will prosper,
When the joy he felt now tomorrow will differ.
Deforestation and pollution product of man’s wrong action
Reforestation and sanitation, why don’t we practice these act of affection
Why destroy nature, for mans upcoming destruction?
Why don’t we love God creation for a better nation?
Flood storm and fire, a taste of revenge from nature
Catastrophes or calamities that strike and torture
These will all happen if nature is not given cure
A sign that doom will fall and it will be sure.
Soon people will suffer without pity
And nature’s answer will never be mercy
For if man continues to destroy the tree
Then it will be the end of the story
But it’s never too late for us people to change
Plant a tree and be aware
For today’s, tomorrow’s, children’s sake
Save the tree, Save the Nature, Save the Earth.
Dec 15, 2011
Dec 15, 2011 at 3:48 AM UTC
We prosper by our connectivity
it permits us influence and involvement
which invokes within us a feeling of usefulness
a sense of purpose that allows us to believe,
we are worthy of being beloved
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 9:54 AM UTC
Thy voice is on the rolling air;
I hear thee where the waters run;
Thou standest in the rising sun,
And in the setting thou art fair.
What art thou then? I cannot guess;
But tho' I seem in star and flower
To feel thee some diffusive power,
I do not therefore love thee less:
My love involves the love before;
My love is vaster passion now;
Tho' mix'd with God and Nature thou,
I seem to love thee more and more.
Far off thou art, but ever nigh;
I have thee still, and I rejoice;
I prosper, circled with thy voice;
I shall not lose thee tho' I die.
14.9k
Negativity is meaningful. It's detrimental and cynical. It deluges inside our heads. Making us feel insecure, unwanted and useless. They will prosper and thrive to reach out and make us feel smaller than them, to get inside of our minds and make us look in the mirror and see what we don't want to see. It eventually assassinates our minds. It dwells on top of the positive thoughts. But YOU need to remember that YOU are worth more than anything in this competitive, sick world.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 1:32 PM UTC
When first shower of monsoon
Touched the emotions
Of my innocent heart
Its strings began to ring
Drops of rain began to open
The windows of my heart
And with its tender touch
Heart began to pour out
Pearls of positive thoughts
Now everything seemed positive
Seeds of inspiration
Sowed by a rain shower in my heart
Began to reverberate
Everything now appeared inspirational
Seedlings of love and compassion
Began to germinate and
Fresh winds of peace and humanity
Started blowing in my heart
Monsoon shower roused
A new hope to live and
Left a lasting legacy
Every corner of my heart
Heart bells started ringing exaltation
And raising wave of happiness
Monsoon shower taught the heart
A new art of living
Darkness changed in brightness
The heart began to rejuvenate
The monsoon shower infused
A new life with peace and prosperity
And kindled the lamps off
Bright and prosper tomorrow
(Written by Kishan Negi)
Aug 7, 2016
Aug 7, 2016 at 11:25 AM UTC
Who believes what we’ve heard and seen?
Who would have thought God’s saving power would look like this?
The servant grew up before God—a scrawny seedling,
a scrubby plant in a parched field.
There was nothing attractive about him,
nothing to cause us to take a second look.
He was looked down on and passed over,
a man who suffered, who knew pain firsthand.
One look at him and people turned away.
We looked down on him, thought he was ****
But the fact is, it was our pains he carried—
our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us.
We thought he brought it on himself,
that God was punishing him for his own failures.
But it was our sins that did that to him,
that ripped and tore and crushed him—our sins!
He took the punishment, and that made us whole.
Through his bruises we get healed.
We’re all like sheep who’ve wandered off and gotten lost.
We’ve all done our own thing, gone our own way.
And God has piled all our sins, everything we’ve done wrong,
on him, on him.
He was beaten, he was tortured,
but he didn’t say a word.
Like a lamb taken to be slaughtered
and like a sheep being sheared,
he took it all in silence.
Justice miscarried, and he was led off—
and did anyone really know what was happening?
He died without a thought for his own welfare,
beaten ****** for the sins of my people.
They buried him with the wicked,
threw him in a grave with a rich man,
Even though he’d never hurt a soul
or said one word that wasn’t true.
Still, it’s what God had in mind all along,
to crush him with pain.
The plan was that he give himself as an offering for sin
so that he’d see life come from it—life, life, and more life.
And God’s plan will deeply prosper through him.
Out of that terrible travail of soul,
he’ll see that it’s worth it and be glad he did it.
Through what he experienced, my righteous one, my servant,
will make many “righteous ones,”
as he himself carries the burden of their sins.
Therefore I’ll reward him extravagantly—
the best of everything, the highest honors—
Because he looked death in the face and didn’t flinch,
because he embraced the company of the lowest.
He took on his own shoulders the sin of the many,
he took up the cause of all the black sheep.
~ Eugene Peterson
Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 12:31 PM UTC
EPILOGUE:
When wisdom fills the old calabash,
It overflows and seeps in
The sun dries it to be stronger
That way it lasts with experience
So was the calabash of Atanga’s Granpa
On his very dying bed
He called Atanga to his bed
And had his last stream flow to him
GRANDPA:
My dear Atanga,
Please in the name all great Atangas
This is my last advice to you
If you wish to take a wife
Never choose either of these:
The woman with light skin
The woman with dark skin
The woman who is short
And the woman who is tall
ATANGA:
Ei! Grandpa!
Then tell me not to marry
Who then do you want me to marry?
Not the fair
Nor the dark
Not the short
Nor the tall?
GRANDPA:
Listen my boy
To words of old
The light skinned woman
Is the fantasy of all
If you choose her
None will help you prosper
Every man wants you to fail
So they can quickly take your place
So never dream of the fair woman
No matter how much you crave for her
ATANGA:
Oh! I see
I think I do understand
Grandpa what about the rest?
GRANDPA:
Never go in for dark skinned woman
She is the one that all your people loathe
She is the one whose people hate you
The only people interested are you and her
When disaster strikes, none will hear
So never go in for the dark skinned woman
ATANGA:
Oh! I see
Now I know
It is not the colour
Nor the character
A woman like that
Would do me harm
Now let us go on
Explain the rest
GRANDPA:
Never go in for the short woman
A short woman is the neighbour’s daughter
Her house is so close to your house
You can never have a moment of peace
Whatever you do
Her people poke their noses
You can never have your lives to live
ATANGA:
Grandpa is wise
So what about the last?
GRANPA:
The tall woman
Is the woman who comes from afar
Her home-town is far
So you can’t have peace
Any time there is trouble in her home
You need to pay
To get your people to go with you
Amidst the feeding
And transportation
How can you proper?
ATANGA:
Granpa is wise
Grandpa has lived
Who would have thought
Of these wise sayings
To an infant where thoughts are concerned?
Thank you Grandpa
So which type of woman
Must I marry?
Grandpa?
Grandpa?
I am asking you a question!
Grandpa!!!!
Grandpa please answer!!!!
MMA:
Grandpa is gone
To the land of beyond
Where sorrow is nil
And thinking is unreal
Just be glad you sipped from his calabash
Of wisdom before he left
PROLOGUE:
And that ended
Grandpa’s advice
Amoafowaa Sefa Cecilia (c) 2014
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 10:02 AM UTC
complexity bias
how you love to criticize my poems
as too long and overly complex
poor me, I’m no genius, don’t prosper by exploiting
unrecognized simplicities, rather deconstruct the
intricate complexities that I flatter myself are the me-sinews
Writing is a **** temptation -
we focus on the 10% that is complex and ignore the easy 90%
perhaps this once I will surrender my bare bones
put aside the rich, satisfying of cave diving, urban spelunking
word caressing tongue verbiage rich tapestry exploring -
give you the plane of plain where nestles my destiny: nesting near motionless where the couch is my kingdom and cold cereal is
easily digested and there are no consequences
I am a member of a discriminated-against minority
we have no charismatic leader, no marchers anywhere, and government programs say
hey you’re free white and twenty one plus, get the crap out of
our faces, you useless piece of rhymes with **** and includes dirt, though I shower twice a day to keep myself occupied
25 years old, a high school dropout, of course I’m white,
my occupation is playing video games and making sure
my supply of opioids is adequate in these great United States
where I was born
there are fewer jobs than none that my application survives
a first glance discardation, and now my disability preempts
any demand to pretend there is gainful employment in store in
my future
this reductio ad absurdum is a technique to expose the fallacy,
ah what’s that you say no interest in hanging about,
on your way out, of course, of course,
we are the wrong flavor of downtrodden
my life is simple - simplistic in its a chaotic entropic way,
order slowly declines into disorder
my rituals are a fight against slip sliding down, falling off the
the Herzog continuums
and the poems are desperate hand holds to prevent my
going, gone under
so forgive me if I tax you without possessing not the
requisite taxing authority
you hone in on the obvious disparities and my contradictions
resenting my sending you this bill of extravagant length
compose with me and a mean will be located and to sleep I go,
perhaps to undress my dreams and explicate the wealthy multiples of complexity in the simplicity of a junkies life
Feb 4, 2018
Feb 4, 2018 at 3:56 PM UTC
When the Lord created heaven and earth,
he created men.
They became our four fathers
who had the authority to rule over all that crawled on this earth.
They were told to be fruitful and mutlipy,
and they bore us.
Their dominion passed on to us.
While yet his commandments we abused.
But the Lord said unto us,
no weapon formed against us will prosper.
And every tongue that rised against us in judgement he condemned.
Our sins redeemed by the blood of Jesus Christ of Nazareth,
he left all this as our heritage,
and our righteousness in him we found.
His breath bestowed in us,
his glory seen in us,
he knew in us our mothers' womp,
and in every hand he laid a different heritage.
A heritage of his grace,
his wisdom,
and knowledge.
Sep 24, 2015
Sep 24, 2015 at 3:13 PM UTC
You ask why I believe in Jesus.
Well why did you believe in Santa Claus as a kid?
Because he brought you gifts right?
Why question something that brings you gifts right.
That's why I belive in Jesus.
He brings me life.
Allows me to dream endlessly.
Gives my mind freedom to shut out the ghosts because he has plans for me to prosper.
But most of all ignites my soul and allows my mind to romp all the days of my life.
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 4:23 PM UTC
My love for you
Can not prosper
Without a love for me.
What's left in me
Is cold and dark
And it rests in my heart.
It influences my actions
It influences my choices
And blindly steals my happiness
From right in front of me
Leaving me hopeless.
What have I done
To deserve this madness?
I've let evil distort my view
Of love
And I view that evil
As a knife
That I have turned upon myself
If I have gone crazy
That is for you to decide.
I give you my wrongs
Because I can no longer hide
So this is my heartbreak suicide.
I've ****** up
With all the women I've met.
Either I cheated, lied
Or left.
Now I am alone and stressed
Hurt and depressed
Because it's like
I ripped my ****** heart
Right out of my chest.
Yeah, these are
My heartbreak suicides
And how I've killed myself
On the inside.
Because love is blind
And I've been chasing
That blind ************
For some time.
With this gaping cavity
In my chest
Stumbling over lust
And wasting time.
Losing my ****** mind
More and more each time.
Love is suppose to be
Patient.
Love is suppose to be
Kind.
What they didn't tell us
Is that love is
Transparent.
When we chase and search
It only leaves us more hurt.
We fall and refuse to get up
And we forget our self worth.
Committing atrocities to
Feel less hurt.
When in reality
Each atrocious act
Has only set us back.
What do we do?
Do we keep up the pursuit?
Of something we can only feel
And only look through?
Or do we wait?
Until it unexpectedly drops on us
And make our souls shake.
I guess I should go with the latter
Because I'm tired of feeling
Bruised and battered.
I've made the choices
That have led me here
And my heart is shattered
From the falls.
I am reaching in
And pulling out the fragments.
Piecing it back together
With no sadness.
Praying to God that he never again
Let this happen.
Who am I to decide
If I've lost my mind.
I'm just not accustomed
To change and what comes with time.
I've set my anger loose on the inside
And this is my
Heartbreak suicide.
Dec 21, 2013
Dec 21, 2013 at 1:38 PM UTC
You came to my life
And taught me a lot of things.
You inspired me
Beyond what could have been.
You were the storm
That changed my calm skyline.
You were the sun
That lit up my dark world.
You were the fire
That burned my worries away.
You were the catalyst
That propelled me forward.
You gave me everything I needed
To grow, to prosper, to be better
Than I used to be.
You gave me so much meaning to my life
But I can't give anything to you in return.
And I'm so, so sorry
That there's nothing I can give
To be able to return what you've given me,
To be able to mark your heart,
To make you remember me,
Like how I will always remember you, 'till my hair turns grey.
Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 4:41 AM UTC
Shimmering gleams of hope
Dance across the shadows.
They show no fear and neither do I.
I know there are only good dreams to come.
Whispering optimisms,
Tell me I'll prosper.
Their silent hints make me
Hopeful and rosy.
I've danced with the devil
On many occasions.
He's convinced me I'm home,
But I know that he's wrong.
I'll follow my heart and
Always see the sun.
For the shimmering gleams dance
Across the shadows of my soul.
Oct 15, 2011
Oct 15, 2011 at 2:45 AM UTC
From the moment we met on that eventful night,
I've felt something for her unlike I've felt for any other soul.
Her hair was curled, her makeup was neat.
She was beautiful.
She smiled at me a special smile,
And it was that smile I would become accustom to.
She was surrounded by a crowd of exceptional people.
They were a kind of wild and raunchy people I hadn't been exposed to.
Amongst them, she shined like a diamond,
As if she was God and they were all descendants of Lucifer.
I soon became aware that her and I could relate.
Sometimes outcasted by others, we bonded in our strife.
We led similar lives and connected strongly with each other in a friendly, nonromantic way.
Whilst her fellow souls were overflowing with disorder,
We held each other and comforted each other from the unsafe conditions of teenage darkness.
She was misunderstood and so was I.
We were meant to live much simpler lives,
But in our struggle to prosper in what we thought was divine,
We made our lives much more complicated.
She watched me as I drove those familiar roads,
And listened as I talked of my blues.
She empathized with me.
We always got along the best.
Faced with a plethora of teenage hardships,
We always found our way back to sanity.
We always found our way back to each other.
She was everything to me,
And to this day, she still shines like a diamond.
Now, her smile is more than just a smile.
It's a pathway to serenity.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 9:36 PM UTC
I feel your love,
Yet your marksmanship is poor,
For towards me your love aims not.
Your intentions aimed elsewhere.
A past lover.
And I am not he.
Malicious Misery pushed you too far.
Too far this time.
Your life is precious to me,
Yet a treasure you seek not.
It dwindles within these machines,
Like a strand of seaweed.
Being crashed upon by the waves,
Of this poison you endowed yourself with.
Much a tragedy this is.
Yet not that of Shakespeare.
No, this much too real,
To take a form of fictitious imaginings.
This, much more complicated,
Than a Shakespearean masterpiece.
For if so,
Your love would be aimed at I.
But it is not,
And in resent, I mourn this tragedy.
Yet, I must let love,
Travel upon its everso hellbound path.
My eyes lie upon thee,
And my heart within the feeble hand of yours.
Yet your mind lies elsewhere,
And your desires lie with your mind.
Upon he.
The one currently at your arms reach.
The one at your desires demand.
The one you truly love.
I must not resent this,
For love hath struck thee as it struck I.
And Cupid's arrow hath stuck he as well.
I can see it in his sorrowful stare.
He loves you in a way that I cannot.
A consentful love.
For I am just a scapegoat.
Temporary.
Well now you've quenched your desire.
You've acquired what you sought.
Love of he.
(And I, for whatever its worth.)
His love is a precious gold,
And mine a mere coal.
Black, unwanted.
Only able to provide temporary warmth.
Pardon me for obstructing.
Love hath stolen my precious vision,
And wandered, I,
Into the meadow in which you hunt.
As a poor marksman,
Thou cast thine arrow of love upon me,
And realized I am but a scapegoat,
When the white stag is what you seek.
Once before,
you lined him in your sights.
But evasive is this mystical creature.
And once, he escap'd.
If your life so solidifies,
I shall replinish my vision,
Banish my love,
And obstruct thee no more.
Instead,
I must prosper in silence and patience.
Shun my hearts desires,
And let thee hunt.
I apologize for my inconvenience.
I shall groom each of your horses,
So that you may ride into,
The meadow of love together.
Hence, beware of hunters,
And wandering creatures.
Teach thine unsteady hand,
And this time...
Don't miss.
Nov 9, 2012
Nov 9, 2012 at 4:19 AM UTC
PULLING WEEDS
Here I sit contemplating the things I have been through
A long list of ugliness mixed in with the good things, too
It reminds me of a flower garden with weeds mixed in
A lot like the beauty of life with an assorted mix of sin
The flowers are calling out to you
Their life depends on what you do
The weeds can drain them of their life
Growing around their roots causing great strife
Just like life if you do not rid yourself of the bad
It can drain you of all the good things you have ever had
So, take the time to check your weeds
Pulling them out to plant your new seeds
It may take hours, days or even years
Your garden is getting full so get into gear
It starts with just pulling one
You will be surprised when you are done
The flowers, just like life, will prosper
Thanking you for making things proper
You see, God knows the weeds your garden contains
He wants you to pull them and start to maintain
Sep 27, 2013
Sep 27, 2013 at 2:18 AM UTC
Welcome, Samhain, the Festival Of The Dead
The year draws to a close and we look to the New Year ahead
With the veil at its thinnest, spirits freely roam
Its time once more to welcome your Ancestors home
Listen to their messages and take note of their advice
For they know things we cannot, except at a price
Raise a glass in their honour, then bid them farewell
Though they never really leave us, and this we know well
Tomorrow brings a new day, though the Dark Lord slumbers on
The New Year has begun, let your voice raise in song
Set out your hopes and desires, for it’s a time to look ahead
Ask the Blessings of the Ancients as on your path you tread
May the coming year be fruitful, may you prosper and grow
For you’re a walker of the Old Ways and this is what we know
We are children of the Ancients and so we are doubly blessed
For we are the chosen ones, each on our own Sacred Quest.
Blessed Be.
Samhain 2012
Nerwydd Dragonborne
Oct 28, 2012
Oct 28, 2012 at 7:56 AM UTC
Workingmen believed
He busted trusts,
And put his picture in their windows.
"What he'd have done in France!"
They said.
Perhaps he would--
He could have died
Perhaps,
Though generals rarely die except in bed,
As he did finally.
And all the legends that he started in his life
Live on and prosper,
Unhampered now by his existence.
4k
The wise head becomes a fool sans money,
While the goon with quid around to throw
Assumes a sage - the mayor of phony county.
Why should the prince of letters anyhow
Be in want - lacking in substance great,
Flourishing instead in some wretched state?
Yet the politicians who run down the economy
And men of baser thoughts that make heaven's
Hallowed eyes drop tears by their steamy
**** businesses and those of unholy deals,
Do seem to prosper much in this awkward
World,with those who daily vaunt at the Lord.
Dec 1, 2012
Dec 1, 2012 at 4:11 AM UTC
If I were ruler of all nations... As one of Gods creations
There would be policies created from this societies frustrations
I wouldn't waste your time... In fact doing so would be a crime
It wouldn't be about politics with all it's dirt & grime
It would be about the people
It would ensure our rights are equal
Spread to all from high above, preached atop the highest steeple
And I wouldn't be afraid to say...
That expiring some freedoms may be the only way
And that would mean taking certain peoples "rights" away
Some freedoms are given away too easily
They should require much harder accessibility
Which will aid in the filtration of humanity
One right I would retrieve because it's abuse is so hard to believe
I'd make it official that not all persons would have the right to conceive
Not unless certain criteria are met, I'd have certain rules that would be set
I'd put a hold on this right until one disproves their ignorant
And since ignorance is bred I wouldn't allow our future to continue to be mislead Stuck in communities that will never get ahead
If I were faced with this position, I have no doubt in my disposition
Life skills would be taught in school, a required graduation precondition
I'd advocate the importance of community Gone would be the privilege of immunity And with it would go all feelings of disunity
To ensure all are exposed to equal possibility
Early education would include lessons on life & moral responsibility
To ensure guidance to all despite personal accessibility
I'd replace things like algebra and womans lit with classes on life knowledge
It's more important that the youth learn financal stability and manners, those who want to learn the square root of X can take that major in college
Priority should be that each leaves high school with the tools to survive
Each would leave with equal opportunity to prosper and to thrive
Oh if I ruled the world!!
Mar 11, 2013
Mar 11, 2013 at 8:44 AM UTC
your forest’s architecture
verdant in spots, and then a stump
did the dead leaves ever have a heart beat
what made the ballad stop, was it sun?
little larva squirming towards a moon
and their mama maggots weep –
to lose a child, to lose a child
when death-creatures want to be
an astronaut, the green canopies are bars
prosper in the centipede teeth munch
fertilizer for a final seed
without vertebrae they climb over stars
& leave your forest’s architecture
crumbling for buzzards.
Oct 27, 2012
Oct 27, 2012 at 9:16 PM UTC
O black toad,
Sage of the sodden floor,
Grant me your stoicism
As I go my labored way.
And may you prosper,
Consume legions, grow fat;
Yet deftly elude all
Who would do you injury.
Jul 1, 2019
Jul 1, 2019 at 7:23 PM UTC
Waves crash on the pier,
Pure force, a violent bludgeon,
An entity of rage; never ceasing,
The earth in a hopeless war with the sea,
Sediment crumbling; drifting into the expanse,
It is over; it always was, the land in inevitable doom,
The sea has victory, basking in the ruins of ravaged land,
But there emanates a sliver of hope, of rebirth, of prosper,
Ample time has passed; the time has come for a new beginning,
A rumble, a blast, liquid earth explodes out,
Out of the cone, the cone created and of the land,
New earth is born, standing proud, a symbol of persistence,
But the once victorious sea, it is maddened, frustrated, upset,
It is preparing, formulating a new attack,
Thus, tis a cycle, a cycle of create and destroy.
Oct 16, 2012
Oct 16, 2012 at 10:07 AM UTC