"provider" poems
How reliant have I become on you my Internet provider.
Aug 4, 2012
Aug 4, 2012 at 9:49 AM UTC
The chocolate digestive is a marvel of invention
Custard creams are sickly, but worthy of a mention
Shortbread can be gritty, steer clear of the cheap ones
For if you love your biscuits, your pockets must be deep ones
For perfect dunkability, the hobnob leads the field
But prone to going chewy if their packet isn't sealed
Bourbon creams can satisfy when nothing else is offered
Avert your eyes from pretzels, no matter how they're proffered
The lowly Garibaldi is an underrated treasure
A macaroon is excellent for eating at your leisure
Enjoy the home made cookies and the chocolate crispy nests
And save a pack of party rings for fobbing off on guests
But biscuits can be functional, with keen survival craft
A packet of pink wafers can be used to make a raft
Penguins can be hollowed out and used to smuggle crack
And if you throw a ginger nut, you'll always get it back
A Jaffa cake is handy as a snowboard for a spider
And flapjacks are a sustenance and energy provider
Wagon wheels are lethal when they're wielded by a ninja
Brandy snaps cure cancer with a tiny hint of ginger
Experiment with biscuits, they're a versatile thing
Try horizontal dunking or the highland shortbread fling
Keep a packet stashed away for when the end is nigh
And always have the kettle full, and milk in good supply
Nov 30, 2015
Nov 30, 2015 at 3:20 PM UTC
Running. Across the open green,
Mindlessly chasing, to what would seem
Like a pebble to this small world,
Nobody that knew him,
Could say his story was untold,
Because I could love to tell it,
Since I was two years old.
Every Saturday morning,
A stench filled the air,
One that was as awakening,
As a surprise that was so unfair.
It was him, cooking while we remained sound asleep,
It didn't really bother him,
He was the provider of this keep.
One won't realize what they have,
Until it is gone, o so gone.
He was the best dad,
That words unspoken toward him, couldn't even fawn.
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 11:41 PM UTC
A mirror.
Reflect, unconditionally, the glory of all
But never radiate one's own splendor
A shell.
Provider, protector
Submitted to the furies; ever a refuge, never a refugee
A utensil.
Mere instrument, to be used and used
With no other use
A shoe.
Worn in and around
And replaced when the toll is apparent
A secret.
Put it out there, do
But keep knowledgeable to a close few
A kettle.
Boiling away on someone's behalf
Soon to be dismissed as a maker of shrill screams and hot air
A woman.
Charitable to inane ideals
When all that defines her is contrary
Dec 1, 2011
Dec 1, 2011 at 12:42 AM UTC
Dear society,
I followed you so blindly.
You did not treat me kindly.
Left alone yet taunted.
I was dead yet haunted.
You filled me full of pain.
It provides you no gain.
Then you drew up these bars.
And you let me carve these scars.
If it takes a community to raise a child. Well then I would prefer to be wild
Society, the center of hypocrisy.
The reflection of vanity.
The meal for Gluttony.
The provider of adultery.
The one we envy.
The antagonist that makes us angry.
The couch for us to be lazy.
The seller to the greedy.
Oh society, you will do us in.
You and the 7 deadly sins.
Hate you,
MnM
May 4, 2014
May 4, 2014 at 10:01 PM UTC
If I was a provider of the content I like
Like I wanted to be I’d never have gotten that
Surgery that ****** up my mammary glands
I’d gush a milky **** for all audiences
Even the ones that knew me before I turned bad *****
And spoilt
Even my great aunt and grandma and mom
who have finally befriended me
on Facebook
The ***** in me covers up and cuts off these
Lady parts
But I heat up and cant hide
The spark in my eyes when I see a girl
Unafraid of her ******
Wearing lingerie on IG
Feminism to me is radical or bust
Is ********* your ****** ****** and
Taking lots of pictures as proof
Of your own ****** occurrence,
Reposting if I get taken down,
Moderator of my own **** self.
Apr 6, 2016
Apr 6, 2016 at 1:48 PM UTC
I have been renewal through the Living God.
My life has changed for the better through Christ.
He is my strength, my soul gets renewal through him.
He is my provider, my best friend, and my King.
When he draws me nearer, I am raise up by him.
He protects us from harm, and delivers me through hardships.
He walks me through the hardships then uses me to bring others out.
He is the Light that I see at the very end of the tunnel.
Feb 28, 2014
Feb 28, 2014 at 2:35 PM UTC
And now a little something for the ladies:
Stop telling men how to be men.
You are never satisfied with the
results of your interference in the
natural order.
Ladies want a man who is sensitive
and attentive to their kaleidoscope
of emotions, who enjoys heart-
warming moments, baby showers,
and shopping malls. They want
this same man to not be attracted
to men.
Ladies want a man who will do
all of the above, plus be strong
and handsome, a provider, a
nurturer, a protector. Just as
long as he never gets angry
with her. And doesn't cheat.
Rapunzel, this man does not exist.
In caveman times, if you had
a man grab your hair, it was
because he was about to club you
unconscious and drag you back
to his real man-cave.
How barbaric...and Freudian **** eh?
You see, ladies, we don't run the
male N.F.L. locker rooms the
way you run yours.
Men are brutish, vile, roid-raged,
and coarse in competition.
Just the way you like them.
But when you find one that
likes you, you can have a
smattering of those nice things
as well. Because he likes you.
If you were lucky enough to
find a sensitive devil like
that, i know you wouldn't
do anything stupid to change
his opinion of you. That
would just be foolish and
self-defeating, wouldn't it?
After all, Women's Lib didn't
teach you to stop being women,
did it?
If you want it all, you have
to take it all, good and
bad.
Just sayin'...
Nov 16, 2013
Nov 16, 2013 at 4:11 PM UTC
Fallen from grace,
No longer do I sit high upon the pedestal
That you had once put me
No longer am I seen as idol or mentor
Nor wanted as provider or protector
But now looked upon as an outcast
And banished from your heart
Betrayed by the one who now blinds you
With a veil of lies and deceit
That weighs on your young fragile heart
With heavy words of animosity and abhorrence
You have been trapped in a malevolent web
Of hatred and retribution
Used as an unwitting pawn
In a game of emotional chess
Your words of respect and adoration
Have been replaced by venomous accusations
Of brutality and oppression
Taught to you by the one
Who now holds the chains that bind your heart
But I will not be vanquished or deterred
By these attempts to falsify or dilute my love for you
I will be strong in my resolve and true to myself
I will not let these misguided asseverations
Destroy my confidence in knowing
That my spirit is pure and that one day
You will be able to break free from your restraints
And uncover your eyes
So you can distinguish the truth from the lies
Until that day comes I shall be waiting
Ready to stand next to you
As opposed to being on that pedestal
And walk down a new road with you
As your friend and equal
Feb 7, 2018
Feb 7, 2018 at 9:52 AM UTC
I'm so in love
I'm still in love
I've never been in love quite before
until I saw your face
*and watching stars without you
my soul cries*
my hething heart
is full of pain
when we're apart
the aching
I'm kissing you
I'm kissing you
You're my father
you're my soldier
you protect me, boy you save me
you're my best friend
you're my husband
you are my doctor, counselor,
provider, professor, my everything
And I love you, I love you, I love you, yes I love you
I need you, I need you, I need you, I can't live without you
I trust you, I trust you, with every ounce of me
Just teach me, boy teach me, just take me
When we make love I can feel all your spirits
deep inside of me
Baby you're so pure
I'm Kissing you forever, and ever, and ever
I love Kissing you (kissing you, kissing you)
Boy I love everything about you baby
it's been so many years since we fell in love
we got something special baby
we can cry together
we can grow together
be ourselves together
**and I love you more than music
yes I love you more than music**
I rather be kissing you, oh
I'm kissing you oh (kissing you, kissing you)
May 11, 2015
May 11, 2015 at 12:58 AM UTC
*“If people bring so much courage
to this world the world has to ****
them to break them, so of course
it kills them. The world breaks every
one and afterward many are*
strong at the broken places."
A Farewell to Arms,
Ernest Hemingway
<>
struggling with so much,
then this scripture of writing sent
by some unfamiliar, a providential
provider; and I am realized, this man
is broken in ways you have no idea,
can~not comp~re~hend
understanding floods, healing
required, for I too have been killed,
my trust and beliefs, trashed,
too many fools who think that
moral equivalence is a thing,
that the unspeakable is justified,
hatred makes me so broke so low,
how,
justification is not justice,
nor an excuse to do whatever
cross the street, and believe,
that drivers will honor a red,
a stop sign, but plenty think
this don’t apply to me, not me
getting on the back of a line
is for fools, people who cannot answer
the arrogant question of the insistent
“Do You Know Who I am?”
I know who I am, yet the ponderance
of evidence says that is not enough,
I
am insufficient,
I am less
than human,
I am
undeserving,
because of my
ancestry
And I will spare you the precise definitions of these statements,
for it should be unnecessary, you should be nodding in agreement, clear eyed understanding, intuitive, in your own broken bones felt!
But,
my bones are broken, and the healing needs a source, a “see here”
directive, explain me how my insane madness is not a proper
responsa to the
weight of hate
my eyes see, seen,
and that my own
eyes
are not lying,
but believed.
but intuitively understood
that my broken bones can be
healed, each in their own way,
so I will retire, perhaps return
when, even if not fully recovered,
sufficient to care enough,
ready to be rebroken, again,
for this! this! is my
true poetic ancestry
thousands of years have not broken us,
and never will, for it is not fear that will
prevent our resurrection, for we immunized,
for what unimaginable have we not known, and yet recovered,
this,
I believe,
my healing will be quiet, solitary, removed
from the distractive noises of invective infecting,
but I will be present,
for my children, and my children’s children will
look to this ancestor and learn that his blood
and bones deeds them the self-healing properties
that always has and always will defeat those
who seek to destroy your future
1) the DNA of your ancestry
inherited inherent in your bone marrow
and bone tissue is continuously remodeled
through the concerted actions of bone marrow cells
2) Stem cells in your red bone marrow
(hematopoietic stem cells) create red and
white blood cells and platelets, all of which
are components of your whole blood.
so here is our truth:
when,
***The world breaks every
one and afterward many are
strong at the broken places!***
our whole blood will replenish us
Nov 17, 2023
Nov 17, 2023 at 10:09 AM UTC
He gives me all I need
He is a good provider
He knows what I need
Although I never asked for
He never fails to supply
He never fails to satisfy
For that, I am so rich
For He is My Treasure!
Apr 17, 2015
Apr 17, 2015 at 10:09 PM UTC
Once long ago there was a small clan named Kah,
that lived in a cave up a draw, Who at that time,
had yet to discover even fire.
One among them, call him Shire was slightly
brighter than the rest, which is not saying much.
Bah the self appointed leader was a big strong man,
a hunter among men, a good provider.
But a fool in all other matters.
One day Bah returned to the cave with a large green
rock. A rock only different from all other rocks, by it's color.
Bah convinced most of the clan that this one rock was so
special that they all should worship it, get on their knees
and even pray to it, adorn it with bits of meat.
Shire too was a hunter, crafty and skilled, but also a thinker.
In the rock he saw no difference, to him a rock was a rock
and nothing more, although he did admire it's color.
"It's only a ROCK." He told the others and "nothing more!"
The clan was overcome by anger, how dare this one among
them not believe as they did? That night and the next Shire
got no meat, nor any pleasure from the women. Yet still he
pointed out his belief, that the green rock was no different
than any other and he refused to worship it.
The clan turned their collective backs to him, treating
him as if he did not live. Even his wife and children.
Still Shire did not relent, so sure was he in his own belief.
In a rage of Holy Righteous Indignation, Bah picked up the
green rock and smashed it into Shire's head, caving in his
skull. Where upon the green rock broke into many pieces.
As Shire lay bleeding, dying, he picked up a piece of the
shattered green rock and said, "See brothers and sisters,
it is only a rock, and not a very good rock at that."
Bah kneeled down beside his old friend and he too picked
up bits of the broken rock. Then said to his brother, "I am
sorry I killed you friend."
To which Shire's last words were, "I forgive you."
The clan was so inspired by these events that a new
religion was founded, in place of the rock, the dented
skull of Shire became their new thing to worship.
Many years later, one literate among them carved on
the rock alter under the sacred skull,
"He died for our sins".
And so among them grew a legend,
Shire became a God to his people.
Later still, another professed scholar calling
himself a Priest, carved a commanded message
in the face of the rock alter.
**** not a Brother in the cave,
before the eyes of our God Shire.
(Out side however is just fine.")
Jan 8, 2014
Jan 8, 2014 at 2:45 PM UTC
Login
Log out
Log in again
I log into her profile
And never log out
its nights like these I wish we never met
That we wouldn't have made plans
That I wouldn't have fooled myself into thinking our future was set
The mind might forgive but the heart finds it hard to forget
Prolonged hope
Minor problems magnified through a mental microscope
Spiritual sessions on Sunday with Jewish rabbis
Wrote a broken note to the biship who passed it on to the Pope
If I can find a new spiritual dealer then maybe I can break away from these mad ties
Holding ur hand in China,rainbows at our feet fire flies illuminating the black skies
You were the provider of all my high
The believer of all my lies
N I could never quite stay away from all these thighs
I guess you leaving me never did come as a surprise
Cloud cover,I had to forget about sunny skies
Blue lake of tears
Let it all dry up and call it Salt Lake City
Meet a nice girl in a summer dress give her a rose n tell her she looks pretty
But cheat once she might show mercy do it again and she will show no pity
Advice to your current coz if he aint care full he be floating on this boat with me
Learning from his mistakes,hiding his face everytime he sees me
I can't keep living like this
Life is short, I need to live it in bliss
You with a smile only a dead man can miss
Holding on in the hopes of one last kiss
I need a new addiction,cause stalking you is keeping me from the life that I am missing
Can't let positivity escape my doubt..
No short cuts to happiness gotta take the longer route
I've invested too much
I've had enough
I'm Login out
But for how long
A ***** addiction that is so strong
A longing for love that is so wrong
things to tell at my next therapy session
My reoccuring obsession
.
Oct 9, 2012
Oct 9, 2012 at 1:53 PM UTC
Jehovah Jireh is more than just a name,
More than just a collection of letters,
More than a generous God who doles out gifts and things,
Jehovah Jireh is a place,
It is a place where we see emptiness,
But God sees opportunity
It is a place where God fills the gap in our lives.
God introduced himself to Abraham as Jehovah Jireh
As he was preparing to make the ultimate sacrifice - his son.
In the same way, God takes us to a place
Where we are willing to strip ourselves
of our most valued possession,
Then says,"Stop!
You don't have to do it, I just needed to know that you would. "
Then Jehovah Jireh provided a lamb
It wasn't just a lamb - something tangible
Something you hold, see, feel.
Jehovah Jireh provided a way
A way to get to closer
A way that was an acceptable sacrifice to reach the Almighty God.
Jehovah Jireh is a bridge,
The bridge to faith and trust
The bridge that takes us from the
place of
Uncertainty and doubt.
Jehovah Jireh
Our provider
Povides more than just things
He provides a place
A lamb,
A bridge
A way,
A way out of our distress
A way out of our confusion,
A way to Him
A way to live.
Jun 22, 2017
Jun 22, 2017 at 8:03 AM UTC
What has friendship got to do in times of need?
A thousand reasons perhaps for one to see
Someone in collaboration with unlikely times...,
Thus, I turn to the Great Provider for counsel
And wisdom for such trial,
For I too have also been there
Sometime, somewhere buddy!
I could not offer you fortune,
For I have none but perhaps
Some note to cheer you up
Like the earthworm burrowing in mud
To fit in some kind of home and feel 'comfy'...
Yes, that is you all the while,
Laughing our heartaches to no end
Until they got tired of you;
Such loving care I find in you, my friend-
A medicine to a searching soul for passion
Sep 25, 2014
Sep 25, 2014 at 1:43 AM UTC
Fond of love? Is it not?
With whom do I speak about?
Is it the heart?
A mere transaction between the heart and the love that it gives
Takes
Moves and listens to each
And every
Single
Day.
I feel…
Yet there is no presenter.
No one to share,
No one to give.
No supplier, provider. There is a house,
Yet it is no home. No place to reside.
What I feel is an experience worth the ride. I bought plane tickets this time.
A one way ticket to wherever it can take me.
Prescribe me the medication, the antidote.
Respond to my prayers with a challenge, rather than a definition.
Give me the reason I long for, simply
Because I ask for it.
Love.
Give it to me.
Feed it to me,
Make it melt in my mouth, at the tip of my tongue.
Let it linger,
Whisper my name,
Romance at the calm of my voice.
Feel my words against yours.
Trial my heart.
Adore.
Bestow upon her the
True
Meaning
Of
Love.
The distinction between a kiss,
And a hug.
The conceptual, intangible evidence that she is looking for.
Hurt?
Pain?
No more.
What I feel is the reaction to love.
There can only be pain
Where there is a heart.
This can go on for as long as it can be taken.
I have been beat up by love,
Yet I refuse for it to take advantage.
It will challenge me indefinitely, until I learn what it dares not bring forth at ease.
Afraid, withdrawn. Confused,
Wishing for a moment. My heart is weak.
Tired of the constant reciprocation of negative energy feeding at her.
Eating her alive. Heart.
Love,
Striking her.
Take it. Take it.
Not for an eternity, rather,
For a moment.
Stand up and fight for it.
A feeling deep inside waiting to let go. Please,
Take it.
I dare not wish to fight another day. She says. She says
She loves him.
She says that she wants to be with him.
Another heart to hold,
Another heart to handle.
Another heart to feel, and be loved by.
A heart scorned by the misinterpretation of the mind however. An emotion that remains,
Sitting
As if there was no other place.
Without love I do not seek to be found. With it,
I am everything. I am a journey with no end,
No signs telling me where to go, what to do, who to love and who to be without. Love.
Shut up and take it.
Barr up the doors! Continue to hide in safety. Create your own world,
Within the lies you constantly tell yourself. Day to day
You sit and embrace your own heart,
Your own hourglass.
In hope of one day someone else loving you the way that love does.
The word is simply a word.
The actions are actions,
And the pain is pain.
The feeling is feeling,
The emotion is emotion.
What is love is love,
What gives what receives are what we call motivation.
Fond of love I am.
It is not pain that I speak of. It is the heart.
Worthy of any and every transaction between itself and love and I live in it
Each
And
Every
Single
Day.
Jun 4, 2014
Jun 4, 2014 at 4:58 PM UTC
These days, it seems everyone wants you to visit a counselor.
Which charge by the hour just to hear you speak.
And hardly solving anything.
Judges recommends it.
Mental experts recommends it.
Having you think they part of the profit business.
When they are in need.
You hardly see the same thing said.
Like you need counseling.
To get to the bottom of your inner problems.
Long before bad things happens.
The problem makers knows they operating on worse behavior.
Even before they get help and get medication.
Oh, yes.
You need counseling for all addiction.
According to whoever speaking.
And they love to even explain.
When sometimes it's a normal thing.
If you a lover of many.
They say, you needs to be love.
That it's something missing when you was growing up.
When in truth.
You're just a physical provider sharing your favor.
Experts, would even apply this theory considering David and Bathsheba.
Cause many things in the world.
Is exposed in the scriptures.
But, we won't go there.
Still, you need counseling.
If you love cars.
If you love hard.
If you love money.
If you love your honey.
If you love your job.
More then you do your man or woman.
You need counseling.
If you turning tricks.
Except when it's legal in some states.
If you love being a thief.
Unless it's apart of your occupation trade.
We won't name them....
But they could be a politicians.
Or a wall street investor.
Two of the world best criminals.
But, who works well with one another?
Because the support of one helps the other gets elected.
And you hardly ever hear.
You need counseling.
I wonder why?
Mar 17, 2013
Mar 17, 2013 at 7:38 AM UTC
By design, you put roof over me
By nature, I need the sun
Jan 27, 2021
Jan 27, 2021 at 9:49 AM UTC
The affair was inevitable
A treacherous triangle
The Daisy, the Sun, and the Moon
appearing as distinct doom
From the Sun, the Daisy bloomed
Though at dusk the Daisy felt gloom
Finding the Moon at its darkest hour,
beloved feelings grew within this flower.
To the Sun, the Daisy was committed,
But to the Moon the Daisy submitted.
The Moon brought light to the dark
Owing an absent Sun, became the new spark.
Fearing the furious flames of the Sun
The Daisy wouldn't shed light
upon the affair
frightful of the brightest one
Now, the Sun and Moon caught intertwined
within the same vine, and in due time
the Daisy's guilt was uprising
It was to choose but both were enticing
The provider vs. the temptation
The brightest star vs. The subtle sight
Fierce force of energy vs. Cool, calm and collect
First love versus A new feel
Oct 22, 2012
Oct 22, 2012 at 11:59 PM UTC
Osiris is not a viable option,
The rays of him are toxic,
One must err on the side of caution,
One mustn't take in the toxins.
Not with a serpents gaze of night ,
I am the gleam in their very eyes,
The twilight of people's lives,
The shine dwindling with time.
Street lights conjoin with the void,
As loss and gain meet with choice,
The old teach young about voice,
Lack thereof and unspoken poise.
Lines have gathered across the head,
Along with emotions, swirling regrets,
Primal fear creeps up ones neck,
The remainder of memories to forget.
I haven't slept for I have wept
I
Am
No
King
I haven't sang for I have pain
I
Am
No
King
I haven't laughed for I am ******
Keep
On
Looking
I haven't smiled for I am vile
You
Won't
Find
Me
For she dwells within me
A potion within a vial
Searching for answers,
Answers that have long since forgotten the questions,
As words have forgotten poems,
Poems that have forgotten books,
Books that have forgotten shelves,
And you, who has forgotten me,
Although you live here, my Isis.
You do not have the mind,
To know that I dream of you,
With me, as one in the same,
Glimmers of hope which make way,
For back breaking pain, and disdain
As you say, my name, I sob, I pray,
You encounter the soul provider,
Whom you alone, deserve.
Deciphering the hieroglyphics,
The depth of my chambers,
Such an undertaking,
Is only for those not wary,
Of rude awakenings and laws,
Forsaking the freedom of my bonds,
Which hold my place, along the gate,
Which controls my fate.
Bonds of loathing and taunting
Specters of faceless smiles
Messages of nameless moans
Titles and spiteful rivals,
Bring cries of despair and tears,
Which shatter the floor beneath,
Uncovering layers of disgust,
Skin deep, is the source of vanity.
Vanity meaning fleeting importance,
For it, death, life, joy, fear, hope,
And melancholy; know nothing,
As they are simply the effects,
But not the causes of the ruckus,
The frozen coating of ocean surface,
Ignorant to the swelling below,
Waiting for a chance to bring Diablo.
I
Am
No
King
You
Won't
Find
Me
Strip
Me
Of
My
Crown
And
Bury
Me
My
Queen
Oct 30, 2013
Oct 30, 2013 at 11:10 AM UTC
When you can call yourself a man
In every essence of the word
Then you can step me
Not just a being that has a piece of meat hanging between their legs
I mean a real man
Provider. Care taker. Gentleman. Head of the house hold type of man
The kind of man that has a strong head on his shoulders
And a soft heart in his chest
Im gona take care of my kids
And make sure my woman is happy sort if man
Im gona be there for you
And Ive got your back type of man
But if you arent that type of man
Then please sweetie oh please
Stay the hell away from me
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 10:11 PM UTC
We are taught to write neatly
but how can I deny what you write so deeply?
With your scruff and ease,
that no one else sees
but me.
I feel honoured to decipher
what's laid before me.
A survivor
a desire
a provider
a divider
a whirlwind of fiction
all balanced in the depiction
your ink puts to pages
and pages of this contagious
frenzy we call "writing"
and now I'm squirming and writhing
in the itch to just
pick up a pen
and not care about handwriting.
Jul 12, 2013
Jul 12, 2013 at 10:23 AM UTC