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"protecting" poems
you are the center, the sun in the sky warming, lighting, guiding those below you are the core, the hub in the wheel forming, maintaining, strengthening the circle you are the earth, the bedrock beneath supporting, stabilizing, reinforcing our lives you are the reason for our being, our births, our lives nurturing, nourishing, caring for our hopes, our dreams you gather, sort the fruits, roots harvested from the land tending, stoking, reviving embers smothering in the hearth your strength transcends your body, your mind, your heart from the first child, to the last, your love, affection is forever you cradle, caress, kiss, comforting the child reassuring, protecting, shooing monsters away you are the strong, tough, steady woman in our lives fierceness of a lioness, tender as a kitten, loving her child
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Dec 17, 2018
Dec 17, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
strong tough steady woman
*be ever gentle to thy words treat them, your tools, well, cleansing and protecting, wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin that they may be well conditioned and pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous, reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage, they are well-intentioned to exist far longer than your meager temporal life, upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit give them all respect, their fair due, they are treasure immeasurable, for which you have been granted guardianship, custody received from others to be gifted onwards, yours, but for the duration so oft we trifle words, expel them from the country of our body, without passport and earnestness, as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler, day tourists, to be treated as leavings, refuse for daily discardation, barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance, but leaving not, a mark of distinction more truffle than trifle, find them in the dark forest of your life, use them sparingly, just for soaring, take them from the roots of your trees, shave them with a paring knife, counts them in bites and measure them in grams, even in grains, for words are the seasoning of our lives, agent provacateurs that can modify the moment, bringing out to the fore the flavor of the underlying speak them slow and distinct, for they arrive slow to you, a trickling of refugees for your sheltering, harbor them as full companions, protected by natural law, provision them well, prepared and ever ready for a quick departure, moor them at the embarcadero, for the next restless leg of endlessness, which they themselves will inform you will last longer than eternity, long after there are no humans to speak them*
0
Oct 10, 2015
Oct 10, 2015 at 6:01 PM UTC
oh poet! be ever gentle to thy words...
*be ever gentle to thy words treat them, your tools, well, cleansing and protecting, wrapping them in cloths of chamois and moleskin that they may be well conditioned and pour forth with a temperament clear and viscous, reflecting their high honors and a noble lineage, they are well-intentioned to exist far longer than your meager temporal life, upon this ever hasty, ever perpetual, orbit give them all respect, their fair due, they are treasure immeasurable, for which you have been granted guardianship, custody received from others to be gifted onwards, yours, but for the duration so oft we trifle words, expel them from the country of our body, without passport and earnestness, as if they were the cheapest of footnote filler, day tourists, to be treated as leavings, refuse for daily discardation, barely noting their fast comings and faster disappearance, but leaving not, a mark of distinction more truffle than trifle, find them in the dark forest of your life, use them sparingly, just for soaring, take them from the roots of your trees, shave them with a paring knife, counts them in bites and measure them in grams, even in grains, for words are the seasoning of our lives, agent provacateurs that can modify the moment, bringing out to the fore the flavor of the underlying speak them slow and distinct, for they arrive slow to you, a trickling of refugees for your sheltering, harbor them as full companions, protected by natural law, provision them well, prepared and ever ready for a quick departure, moor them at the embarcadero, for the next restless leg of endlessness, which they themselves will inform you will last longer than eternity, long after there are no humans to speak them*
Continue reading...
46
Now I ask you to join me Now you celebrate Not being me. Not being you Only Us for the great UN load! DIS arm! EN large! OUT side! Some steps I will take Be my guest Pull your anchor Out of the lake We're In the room In the building In the crowded city In the country with thousands of cities The country shares the continent with an enemy nation The two rivals are carried round and round by the Earth's endless rotation The Earth obeys the master’s magnetic line, burning since uncountable clock time The sun is blind to his insignificance too, ignoring billions of other star mates, it can’t see through Immeasurable it seems, magnifying! All of them such tiny little parts in one of Miss Milky’s arms Some light years away there they are: Pinwheel, Cartwheel, Black Eye, Andromeda and Cigar Unmeasurable it seems, humongous! All of them such a fading little part of the cosmos There you are Floating from a distance Feel the empty ground Drink from the fountain of existence Still blind to insignificance? Still convinced about the rightness of imposed beliefs? Still judging others’ defects according to our pretentious and vain mind? Still punching away the different, protecting the mold? Still reinforcing illusory antagonism and insignia? Still seeing only two sides? Still holding to the pride? Still In the ******* room Am I? Are you? Let's try it again
0
Mar 17, 2015
Mar 17, 2015 at 5:21 PM UTC
Ego deconstruction
Walking out the door of your tree house, You draw your sword. Defending and exploring the crazy world around you, Taking that first step. You grab your friends, head off to distant lands, Protecting the exotic princess. The land awaits and the world is all botched, What time is it?
0
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 12:03 AM UTC
Adventure Time
I climbed slowly, slowly on the mount of aspirations, On        succint        savoury        dreams, As i see the success peaking from thousand miles above. I grip the cold stone tighter, harder, My passion, my hardwork, As i swiftly float from    the   ground. Snowy zephyrs of laze and evil, Reign against me, trying to break my hold. Yet the fire of my determination, Still burns within. My thick woolen coat hugs me tight, My faith, my values, Protecting me from the blizzards of jealousy, vile, As i wind my way upwards. A glance backwards, And the horrid past knocks on the veins of my sullen heart, Yet this soul will give up no more. The weary body, driven by heraculous force, through the steep slopes of time, Against enormous storms and stints, With an armour of patience, Finds itself on dome of success. Ah! fleeting moments of unscathed bliss, Enamour for success, And it's sweet sweet honey. That slowly melts in my heart, On top of the mountain, Where everything is freezing. From the top, the hardwork, the giant path looks small, As the heart prepares to climb, Another                              mountain.
0
May 14, 2017
May 14, 2017 at 2:09 PM UTC
The Journey to Success
To be hugged by someone you love, Is not a simple matter. The first hug was shy and awkward, But the second hug was warm and complete. The heat radiating from him on a cold winter's day, Warms me up. His arms circling around me, It feels like home. It is like we are meant to be, As we fit completely with each other. I feel safe in his arms, Like he is protecting me from the outside world. I can tell that every hug I get from him is full of love, As I also put all my love into my hugs. One hug can make you feel special and happy, So treasure that hug and do not forget.
0
Aug 5, 2014
Aug 5, 2014 at 10:17 AM UTC
A Special Hug
Fly, Dragonfly, fly! Spread your wings and flex your tail take off to the skies, follow the blowing winds! Leave behind the Wicked Men of Hollowing Trail and escape the poisons of their worded sins Fly, Dragonfly, fly! Race, Dragonfly, race! Sweep your wings back against the windy skies Let your heart propel your spirited sprint faster! Faster! Escape from the Forest of Unnerving Lies and the creatures of the Lost Souled ******** Race, Dragonfly, race! Hunt, Dragonfly, hunt! Beat your wings to the sounds of the butterflies Feed your hunger for protecting the meek with the haunting taste of Honey-Soaked Flies and the sting of Sugar-Coated Bees Hunt, Dragonfly, hunt! Rest, Dragonfly, rest! Allow the venom to still your beatful wings Let the swift death claim a Hero's life Beckon the Raven of Heaven to blissfully sing to the tune of the Stalking Sparrow's whistling knife Rest, Dragonfly, rest!
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Dec 26, 2011
Dec 26, 2011 at 1:25 PM UTC
Fly, Dragonfly
Clothed green and red outer layer protecting the golden treasure that lies beneath. Mango, ambrosia, fruit of the gods, placed down upon our earth for enlightenment. One bite such sweetness blasting away every taste bud, an explosion in the brain, turning us from human to pure animalistic joy. I love you mango .
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Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 4:51 PM UTC
Ode to the mango
You were my umbrella and my parasol Always sheltering me, Always protecting me. But now that you are gone I cry tears like rain And burn inside like a flame. An umbrella and a parasol Protecting me From the moody Weather That is me. F.Z.N
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Aug 31, 2014
Aug 31, 2014 at 4:42 PM UTC
Umbrella and Parasol
Manila, Manila, Your bustling streets vibrate with the rumbling of the jeepneys and the hollers of the drivers as they say, “Pasahero diyan, kasya pa, kasya pa!”; (Any passenger there, some seats are still free!) Your nights twinkle with the Christmas lights that surround every tree around the Meralco building when September begins; Your endless traffic jams keep McDonald’s and KFC alive twenty-four by seven where traffic enforcers dodge cars and vans trucks and tricycles and jeepneys and bicycles while dancing to the rhythm beating in their own ears with a smile and a salute to all the drivers from dawn to dusk; The noise awakens the outskirts of your city filled with people who never fails to smile even when the storm pirouettes like a tempestuous ballerina, where children watch the roads transform into this ocean of black water and small wooden boats become the means of transportation; paddling in between houses as the adults try to go to work; where chickens waddling upon roofs and cats chasing rats become the best forms of entertainment but Manila, your lingering smell of cancer comes with the dark blue starless sky telling people to grip their bags until it merges with their bodies. Manila, say good night while they hold it tight protecting it from the dark humid air where thieves come out to thumb down unscrutinised objects from shallow pockets by the flickering lamps across the blazing red and emerald green lights you see less and less and less faces as the Sun sinks and says good bye. Stop and try to tranquilise yourself. Your city is now lead by a blood-thirsty leader. Apologies from gunshots overpower the cries of help from your people. Manila, ignore them and sleep well. Let the truth decay while lives burn and vanish. Prayers cannot save your mutinous ignominy. Halcyon days are over but Manila, you are still a beautiful city. Your resilient people overflows with hospitable hearts. Their faces plastered with big smiles as they welcome us for you and say, “Mabuhay!” (Long live!) proud and mighty. Offering their minds on banana leaf plates to everyone who visits, Giving away their hearts in small loot bags to everyone who leaves, The Pearl of the Orient Seas was my hood. Manila, despite your lack of snow and intense weather swings, You are and will always be my home.
0
Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 4:54 PM UTC
Pearl of the Orient
Manila, Manila, Your bustling streets vibrate with the rumbling of the jeepneys and the hollers of the drivers as they say, “Pasahero diyan, kasya pa, kasya pa!”; (Any passenger there, some seats are still free!) Your nights twinkle with the Christmas lights that surround every tree around the Meralco building when September begins; Your endless traffic jams keep McDonald’s and KFC alive twenty-four by seven where traffic enforcers dodge cars and vans trucks and tricycles and jeepneys and bicycles while dancing to the rhythm beating in their own ears with a smile and a salute to all the drivers from dawn to dusk; The noise awakens the outskirts of your city filled with people who never fails to smile even when the storm pirouettes like a tempestuous ballerina, where children watch the roads transform into this ocean of black water and small wooden boats become the means of transportation; paddling in between houses as the adults try to go to work; where chickens waddling upon roofs and cats chasing rats become the best forms of entertainment but Manila, your lingering smell of cancer comes with the dark blue starless sky telling people to grip their bags until it merges with their bodies. Manila, say good night while they hold it tight protecting it from the dark humid air where thieves come out to thumb down unscrutinised objects from shallow pockets by the flickering lamps across the blazing red and emerald green lights you see less and less and less faces as the Sun sinks and says good bye. Stop and try to tranquilise yourself. Your city is now lead by a blood-thirsty leader. Apologies from gunshots overpower the cries of help from your people. Manila, ignore them and sleep well. Let the truth decay while lives burn and vanish. Prayers cannot save your mutinous ignominy. Halcyon days are over but Manila, you are still a beautiful city. Your resilient people overflows with hospitable hearts. Their faces plastered with big smiles as they welcome us for you and say, “Mabuhay!” (Long live!) proud and mighty. Offering their minds on banana leaf plates to everyone who visits, Giving away their hearts in small loot bags to everyone who leaves, The Pearl of the Orient Seas was my hood. Manila, despite your lack of snow and intense weather swings, You are and will always be my home.
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76
One early morning along the quiet forest floor, a little mushroom popped it's head out of the ground. Looking in wonder, he pushed passed the dead leaves and dirt to reach for sunlight below the canopy. "STOP!" said the forest. "You have been unruly. We have seen you try to grow with discord and disregard, denying the order. And what are you, alien? Identify as plant or animal!" The little mushroom responded, "But I only did as you did; made a home. Like the rooted trees pillar in our leafy halls, as the moss nestles among the rocks, or how the birds nest in their hollows, why am I so different? I am both you and me." The forest inhabitants pondered. In this time the mushroom grew and died. It took too long for the trees and the birds and the moss to agree by the time their fellow forest friend had passed. The trees, too slow to interrupt, cried out to all, "What have we done?!  we may not have thought him as beautiful as the rest of us, but the mushroom was a part of this forest!" As a parting token, the little fungi grew a network of strands below the trees roots to support them all, feeding and protecting them even in death. With it's dying breath, it dropped it's spores, to which would grow bountiful among the forest floor, among the trees and the rocks and moss. They had not known it, but the little mushroom was a part of a greater fungi, miles across. It had been there as long as the forest, keeping the trees company since time began, before humans, before us. Only the trees had the knowledge to understand the little mushroom, but their voices were too quiet, too slow. So the trees let the mushrooms grow in their branches and on their logs to give them a home.
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Jan 21, 2016
Jan 21, 2016 at 1:35 PM UTC
A Fungi In The Forest Of Normal (Short Story)
One early morning along the quiet forest floor, a little mushroom popped it's head out of the ground. Looking in wonder, he pushed passed the dead leaves and dirt to reach for sunlight below the canopy. "STOP!" said the forest. "You have been unruly. We have seen you try to grow with discord and disregard, denying the order. And what are you, alien? Identify as plant or animal!" The little mushroom responded, "But I only did as you did; made a home. Like the rooted trees pillar in our leafy halls, as the moss nestles among the rocks, or how the birds nest in their hollows, why am I so different? I am both you and me." The forest inhabitants pondered. In this time the mushroom grew and died. It took too long for the trees and the birds and the moss to agree by the time their fellow forest friend had passed. The trees, too slow to interrupt, cried out to all, "What have we done?!  we may not have thought him as beautiful as the rest of us, but the mushroom was a part of this forest!" As a parting token, the little fungi grew a network of strands below the trees roots to support them all, feeding and protecting them even in death. With it's dying breath, it dropped it's spores, to which would grow bountiful among the forest floor, among the trees and the rocks and moss. They had not known it, but the little mushroom was a part of a greater fungi, miles across. It had been there as long as the forest, keeping the trees company since time began, before humans, before us. Only the trees had the knowledge to understand the little mushroom, but their voices were too quiet, too slow. So the trees let the mushrooms grow in their branches and on their logs to give them a home.
Continue reading...
8
I had built a wall Layer by layer Mortar and stone Until it was so high And so strong I thought no one could break it. But I overlooked something Because when I was done There you were. You just slipped right past my wall Without even noticing its presence. I was too surprised to push you out. And then a funny thing happened I was happy And at peace with the world And reconsidering my wall Reconsidering What I was protecting myself from. I didn't have much of myself To give away But I gave you some of what was left But not so much That it would destroy me To have to take it back. Because I'd been though that before I gave away so much And still most of it is gone. I've been hurt into being More cautious with my feelings Than I used to be. And it turned out to be A good thing A blessing inside a curse Because when you gave that piece back It hurt But I knew it could have been worse. Because you can't break something That's already been broken By another. There wasn't any part of me I gave you That you could destroy I didn't give you that. I keep my heart close to me Because it belongs to another You were only borrowing what I had left. So I will be fine Because I've been through worse And you are not my Kryptonite.
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Oct 20, 2011
Oct 20, 2011 at 12:54 AM UTC
My Kryptonite
I am a Love Warrior protecting my faith in love True Love unconditional nonjudgemental pure Love soft kind peaceful open but first of all knowing that I am Love(d) just because I am I am beautiful I am a Love Warrior
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Jul 23, 2015
Jul 23, 2015 at 10:48 AM UTC
Love Warrior
Ancient gardens where dragons roam: Guardians of Grove protecting Flower Rose. In wanders uncanny courageous bone, Ghost hunting for salvation. Tempted for the rose, face to face with dragon's nose; Swallowed by the tales and the mysteries. A seed untold, yet to follow unfold.. Blooms the next flower in the garden of my dragon guarded home.
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Jul 19, 2014
Jul 19, 2014 at 11:06 PM UTC
Dragon's Treasure
T͙O͙ E͙V͙E͙R͙Y͙ L͙I͙V͙I͙N͙G͙ O͙F͙ E͙X͙I͙S͙T͙E͙N͙C͙E͙ M͙E͙N͙ G͙R͙E͙A͙T͙L͙Y͙ G͙R͙O͙W͙L͙S͙ N͙O͙T͙H͙I͙N͙G͙ M͙A͙D͙E͙ O͙F͙ F͙E͙A͙R͙ S͙T͙R͙I͙K͙E͙S͙ T͙H͙E͙ B͙A͙C͙O͙N͙ L͙E͙A͙V͙E͙S͙ A͙ S͙U͙S͙P͙E͙N͙S͙E͙ N͙O͙T͙ A͙ D͙O͙U͙B͙T͙ T͙O͙ O͙N͙E͙'S͙ E͙A͙R͙ C͙O͙M͙E͙S͙ A͙N͙D͙ L͙I͙V͙E͙S͙ A͙ K͙N͙I͙G͙H͙T͙ F͙I͙L͙L͙E͙D͙ V͙A͙L͙O͙R͙ F͙O͙R͙ L͙I͙F͙E͙ B͙E͙A͙R͙S͙ S͙T͙R͙U͙G͙G͙L͙E͙ A͙N͙D͙ T͙R͙I͙A͙L͙S͙ L͙E͙A͙R͙N͙ T͙O͙ S͙A͙I͙L͙ Y͙O͙U͙R͙ O͙W͙N͙ A͙S͙ A͙ S͙A͙I͙L͙O͙R͙ N͙E͙V͙E͙R͙ S͙E͙T͙ A͙ S͙E͙L͙F͙ I͙N͙ D͙E͙N͙I͙A͙L͙S͙ A͙D͙D͙R͙E͙S͙S͙ T͙H͙E͙ N͙A͙T͙I͙O͙N͙ O͙N͙ E͙Y͙E͙ T͙O͙ E͙Y͙E͙ M͙A͙K͙E͙ A͙ M͙O͙T͙I͙O͙N͙ F͙O͙R͙ T͙H͙E͙ B͙E͙T͙T͙E͙R͙ S͙I͙D͙E͙S͙ T͙O͙ L͙I͙V͙E͙ A͙N͙D͙ F͙I͙G͙H͙T͙ F͙O͙R͙ A͙ T͙R͙Y͙ A͙N͙D͙ M͙A͙Y͙ S͙U͙C͙C͙E͙E͙D͙ A͙ P͙E͙A͙C͙E͙F͙U͙L͙ M͙I͙N͙D͙ F͙O͙R͙ T͙H͙E͙ S͙T͙A͙G͙E͙ I͙S͙ A͙S͙ E͙N͙T͙I͙C͙I͙N͙G͙ T͙H͙E͙N͙ S͙H͙O͙W͙C͙A͙S͙E͙ Y͙O͙U͙R͙ A͙B͙I͙L͙I͙T͙Y͙ I͙N͙ S͙P͙A͙R͙I͙N͙G͙ A͙ B͙L͙E͙S͙S͙I͙N͙G͙ S͙O͙M͙E͙O͙N͙E͙ H͙A͙S͙ B͙R͙A͙V͙E͙R͙Y͙ T͙O͙ P͙R͙O͙T͙E͙C͙T͙ H͙U͙M͙A͙N͙I͙T͙Y͙
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Oct 11, 2014
Oct 11, 2014 at 3:28 AM UTC
bravery protecting humanity
Darkness surrounded me, But you gave me hope. You were the light In my abyss of darkness. When I didn't know which path to take, You assured that the right one Would prove itself. The twists and turns, Were far and plenty, But you stayed at my side, Protecting me through it all.
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May 24, 2014
May 24, 2014 at 1:50 AM UTC
Heavenly Protection
My stiff arms hit the metal of the door as I force it open, against the chilled fist of wind, pounding hard upon the glass windows and then equally upon my face and forearms. It had to be below 50 degrees, but I had hoped that the cold could help me feel again. Feel something. Unfortunately, this ice only froze my fingers, leaving my body as numb as my mind. Later, as I rid my machine of the cloth concealment, protecting the scars laced into my skin. The water boils as I examine my life-lines, these battle scars, in the mirror and can only cringe in thought of the disappointment drowning the faces of those I care about most: their eyes drooping down with the weight of eyebrows, creased diagonally, half shock and the other half burning discontentment. They purse their lips and stab my eyes with their daggers, when I chuckle nervously. I shake my head of these thoughts from my speculation and step into the steam, hoping the heat could help me feel again. However, the fire does not scorch my body, nor incinerate the emptiness, it only slides down the marble sculpture my body feels to be (equivalent to the concrete barrier that builds behind my eyes)
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Oct 30, 2014
Oct 30, 2014 at 7:24 PM UTC
Temperature Resistant
I wish I had a few peacocks because beautiful colors give me beautiful thoughts and I could use that warmth moving through my head to heat my shivering heart I wish I were standing next to a tree that was just a seed planted on the same day at the first moment the doctor looked at me I imagine the air that I would breathe would be clear and sweet and the branches would be covered in beautiful leaves protecting me I wish I were a song we would all sing I wish we were better at being human beings I wish for everyone to be everything
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Jan 31, 2015
Jan 31, 2015 at 2:35 AM UTC
Peacocks
In a place by the lake stood a tall willow tree It's roots stretching down far beyond where I could see At first glance I admire its elegant beauty But there's more than meets the eye, I learned fool-heartedly Its melancholy dance in the cool summer breeze Mesmerizes my senses and is enough to please Then the reflection in the lake made it all too clear The willow is my love but there's no need to fear Behind her dark eyes is a cloudy sky A girl living in fear who's dying to cry I can see you hiding behind that brave face Exhausted from a journey you thought was going no place The tears I see fall are like rain from the sky Or the branches of the willow that keep this place dry The leaves that drape down are protecting you so Concealing the emotions that you don't want to show The path you traveled is something you thought you'd never surpass Like walking down a road of rusty nails and broken glass Like a broken heart, your feet have been torn Yet you go on beaten and continue to mourn But the road you walk knows another poor soul I've been down it too, and I've paid my toll And the secrets you kept hidden from plain sight Are now exposed to me in the mystic moonlight And when you weep like the willow, please know this to be true I'll love you forever, even when the skies ahead aren't blue -AJT
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Nov 14, 2017
Nov 14, 2017 at 11:55 PM UTC
The Weeping Willow
Purity is not just about virginity, It's also about dignity, Purity is not restricted to femininity, but requires the protection of chivalry, and regard for responsibility. Purity is not innocence out of ignorance, It's making a choice that's different. Even when facing a challenge. Purity is not just about hiding behind a white veil, Or donning a white spotless gown. It's about going through a season of waiting, even if it can be tough. Purity is not just a state of being, It's a state of knowing, valuing and protecting... The sacredness of a marriage. The loyalty to one's spouse. The unity of two to form one flesh. Not giving up one's body to all the rest, but leaving it for God's best.
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Oct 17, 2014
Oct 17, 2014 at 2:40 AM UTC
Purity.
Tell my love the words that I am afraid to speak From the waves of the ocean to the highest mountain peak Expressed as my nature stays at a constant bliss Fluent in the way I am able to entertain this Your melody as it wraps a warm cloth to my heart Protecting from all that dare to tear us apart It flows, a strum of a string as it echoes afar From the pedestal arose the goddess to shine as the star As she shares her beauty with the world all to enjoy Listen to her hum as her voice does not annoy Rather it uplifts the soul as you feel the keys descend From the stroke of the pianist to the bittersweet end
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Jul 14, 2014
Jul 14, 2014 at 6:53 PM UTC
Piano
Her soul was a candle flickering in the palm of his hand Slowly eating away at the wax until it was only the faint murmur of a flame He ran across deserts and over mountains to try to find a safe place for this little candle He constantly added wax, trying to rebuild it so it could feel powerful again He cupped his hands together tightly, trying not to let the breeze slip between the cracks his fingers made He tried his best, and so the story goes, his best happened to be just enough The flame of the little candle grew under his protecting watch It grew large enough to stand on its own, to fight the wind and the rain and the storms all by itself The candle still needed him though He provided more wax whenever it was needed, and stuck around to make sure his candle was alright And she was. Forever indebted to him, she stood as a beacon of hope for the hopeless, and a symbol of love for the lonely Forevermore.
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Apr 14, 2014
Apr 14, 2014 at 12:59 PM UTC
Little Candle
one grain of sand inside one clam The clam spends time with this grain of sand it is nurtured it is protected it is valued it is loved it is seen as an important part of the clams life it then becomes a pearl Why are you so clammed up? I'm clammed up because I am making a pearl I am making myself my own pearl creating my own beauty Shining my imperfections as if they were weaknesses I am loving myself And protecting myself from the toxic environment the world around me can be I am learning the value of myself Nurturing myself The pearl is my own sense of self. That is my pearl
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Jan 8, 2015
Jan 8, 2015 at 11:17 PM UTC
My Pearl
Ask me who is the most generous man I know and I shall speak his name Ask me who is the most humble man I know and him I shall acclaim Ask me who is the most altruistic man I know and his face shall be on the frame Ask me who is the most kindhearted man I know and you will hear his name again In my life, I've never met anyone like him again A man devoted to his family and his community Always preaching the word of God and leading us to felicity Always ready to sacrifice his needs for the sake of love and unity He taught us family, love, fraternity, forgiveness, religion, compassion, tolerance, peace and generosity I am who I am today thanks to his teachings He was a leader, a guide, our role model There is no one like him He was a father, a brother, a friend, a companion, a grandfather 16 years since he is gone but his words still resonate like thunder You are no longer here but your teachings linger A man who was not afraid to cry when needs be but also not afraid to yell and impose order Always playful with kids and receptive and caring with adults I feel privileged and lucky to have known him and call him grandpa For in my life he has played a huge and special part The memories I will treasure and keep them in my heart Although he is gone, we will always be together And his spirit will live on in each one of us forever From where he is, he is protecting us and guiding us on our way He is praying for us everyday He used to pray God "Let it be I who fall sick instead of one of my family member. Let it be I who die instead of someone in my family." What kind of man wishes for that, you ask. Someone special I will say, a man of love And I would like to thank God above For blessing us with this man, with his kindness and love I truly believe that God has gifted him with something special He taught us not to let this world be in our heart for it is not eternal I know he is in a better place Watching us all with a smile on his face I hope we are making you proud from where you are We are still crying an ocean of tears As we feel so empty and hold many fears If I could just turn back the time to those days you used to laugh with us and made us feel so special and loved Those days you pretended to be in pain when we stepped on your feet while we were playing Those days when they were only you and us in the room with your half covered grey and curled hair Those days we used to watch tv together and whenever there was an intimate scene you screamed your favorite word "Touc" and scared us (not that I know what it means) Time will heal so they say And time fades away While a part of us is taken away I know we will meet again one day But until that day Know that you are truly missed Mame Alassane Lahi whom we affectionately called Mame Rane
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Jun 7, 2017
Jun 7, 2017 at 11:41 AM UTC
An ode to a special man
Ask me who is the most generous man I know and I shall speak his name Ask me who is the most humble man I know and him I shall acclaim Ask me who is the most altruistic man I know and his face shall be on the frame Ask me who is the most kindhearted man I know and you will hear his name again In my life, I've never met anyone like him again A man devoted to his family and his community Always preaching the word of God and leading us to felicity Always ready to sacrifice his needs for the sake of love and unity He taught us family, love, fraternity, forgiveness, religion, compassion, tolerance, peace and generosity I am who I am today thanks to his teachings He was a leader, a guide, our role model There is no one like him He was a father, a brother, a friend, a companion, a grandfather 16 years since he is gone but his words still resonate like thunder You are no longer here but your teachings linger A man who was not afraid to cry when needs be but also not afraid to yell and impose order Always playful with kids and receptive and caring with adults I feel privileged and lucky to have known him and call him grandpa For in my life he has played a huge and special part The memories I will treasure and keep them in my heart Although he is gone, we will always be together And his spirit will live on in each one of us forever From where he is, he is protecting us and guiding us on our way He is praying for us everyday He used to pray God "Let it be I who fall sick instead of one of my family member. Let it be I who die instead of someone in my family." What kind of man wishes for that, you ask. Someone special I will say, a man of love And I would like to thank God above For blessing us with this man, with his kindness and love I truly believe that God has gifted him with something special He taught us not to let this world be in our heart for it is not eternal I know he is in a better place Watching us all with a smile on his face I hope we are making you proud from where you are We are still crying an ocean of tears As we feel so empty and hold many fears If I could just turn back the time to those days you used to laugh with us and made us feel so special and loved Those days you pretended to be in pain when we stepped on your feet while we were playing Those days when they were only you and us in the room with your half covered grey and curled hair Those days we used to watch tv together and whenever there was an intimate scene you screamed your favorite word "Touc" and scared us (not that I know what it means) Time will heal so they say And time fades away While a part of us is taken away I know we will meet again one day But until that day Know that you are truly missed Mame Alassane Lahi whom we affectionately called Mame Rane
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can I grow tomorrow? place a bucket over my head to block the sun; protect my innocence for a while. I'll grow tomorrow. but, today. . . I just wanna see the darkness with my eyes open, in hopes of understanding. I can be aware of my surroundings, though I do not see, distinctly, I can tell that I'm surrounded. something bigger than myself. protecting me from what is good. . . so that it won't become the bad. . . protecting my naiveté. just leave the bucket; walk away. I'll grow tomorrow.
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Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 12:35 PM UTC
alt-blossom