Hail, holy Light, offspring of Heaven firstborn,
Or of the Eternal coeternal beam
May I express thee unblam’d?  since God is light,
And never but in unapproached light
Dwelt from eternity, dwelt then in thee
Bright effluence of bright essence increate.
Or hear”st thou rather pure ethereal stream,
Whose fountain who shall tell?  before the sun,
Before the Heavens thou wert, and at the voice
Of God, as with a mantle, didst invest
The rising world of waters dark and deep,
Won from the void and formless infinite.
Thee I re-visit now with bolder wing,
Escap’d the Stygian pool, though long detain’d
In that obscure sojourn, while in my flight
Through utter and through middle darkness borne,
With other notes than to the Orphean lyre
I sung of Chaos and eternal Night;
Taught by the heavenly Muse to venture down
The dark descent, and up to re-ascend,
Though hard and rare:  Thee I revisit safe,
And feel thy sovran vital lamp; but thou
Revisit’st not these eyes, that roll in vain
To find thy piercing ray, and find no dawn;
So  thick a drop serene hath quench’d their orbs,
Or dim suffusion veil’d.  Yet not the more
Cease I to wander, where the Muses haunt,
Clear spring, or shady grove, or sunny hill,
Smit with the love of sacred song; but chief
Thee, Sion, and the flowery brooks beneath,
That wash thy hallow’d feet, and warbling flow,
Nightly I visit:  nor sometimes forget
So were I equall’d with them in renown,
Thy sovran command, that Man should find grace;
Blind Thamyris, and blind Maeonides,
And Tiresias, and Phineus, prophets old:
Then feed on thoughts, that voluntary move
Harmonious numbers; as the wakeful bird
Sings darkling, and in shadiest covert hid
Tunes her nocturnal note.  Thus with the year
Seasons return; but not to me returns
Day, or the sweet approach of even or morn,
Or sight of vernal bloom, or summer’s rose,
Or flocks, or herds, or human face divine;
But cloud instead, and ever-during dark
Surrounds me, from the cheerful ways of men
Cut off, and for the book of knowledge fair
Presented with a universal blank
Of nature’s works to me expung’d and ras’d,
And wisdom at one entrance quite shut out.
So much the rather thou, celestial Light,
Shine inward, and the mind through all her powers
Irradiate; there plant eyes, all mist from thence
Purge and disperse, that I may see and tell
Of things invisible to mortal sight.
Now had the Almighty Father from above,
From the pure empyrean where he sits
High thron’d above all highth, bent down his eye
His own works and their works at once to view:
About him all the Sanctities of Heaven
Stood thick as stars, and from his sight receiv’d
Beatitude past utterance; on his right
The radiant image of his glory sat,
His only son; on earth he first beheld
Our two first parents, yet the only two
Of mankind in the happy garden plac’d
Reaping immortal fruits of joy and love,
Uninterrupted joy, unrivall’d love,
In blissful solitude; he then survey’d
Hell and the gulf between, and Satan there
Coasting the wall of Heaven on this side Night
In the dun air sublime, and ready now
To stoop with wearied wings, and willing feet,
On the bare outside of this world, that seem’d
Firm land imbosom’d, without firmament,
Uncertain which, in ocean or in air.
Him God beholding from his prospect high,
Wherein past, present, future, he beholds,
Thus to his only Son foreseeing spake.
Only begotten Son, seest thou what rage
Transports our Adversary?  whom no bounds
Prescrib’d no bars of Hell, nor all the chains
Heap’d on him there, nor yet the main abyss
Wide interrupt, can hold; so bent he seems
On desperate revenge, that shall redound
Upon his own rebellious head.  And now,
Through all restraint broke loose, he wings his way
Not far off Heaven, in the precincts of light,
Directly towards the new created world,
And man there plac’d, with purpose to assay
If him by force he can destroy, or, worse,
By some false guile pervert; and shall pervert;
For man will hearken to his glozing lies,
And easily transgress the sole command,
Sole pledge of his obedience:  So will fall
He and his faithless progeny:  Whose fault?
Whose but his own?  ingrate, he had of me
All he could have; I made him just and right,
Sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.
Such I created all the ethereal Powers
And Spirits, both them who stood, and them who fail’d;
Freely they stood who stood, and fell who fell.
Not free, what proof could they have given sincere
Of true allegiance, constant faith or love,
Where only what they needs must do appear’d,
Not what they would?  what praise could they receive?
What pleasure I from such obedience paid,
When will and reason (reason also is choice)
Useless and vain, of freedom both despoil’d,
Made passive both, had serv’d necessity,
Not me?  they therefore, as to right belong$ ‘d,
So were created, nor can justly accuse
Their Maker, or their making, or their fate,
As if predestination over-rul’d
Their will dispos’d by absolute decree
Or high foreknowledge they themselves decreed
Their own revolt, not I; if I foreknew,
Foreknowledge had no influence on their fault,
Which had no less proved certain unforeknown.
So without least impulse or shadow of fate,
Or aught by me immutably foreseen,
They trespass, authors to themselves in all
Both what they judge, and what they choose; for so
I form’d them free: and free they must remain,
Till they enthrall themselves; I else must change
Their nature, and revoke the high decree
Unchangeable, eternal, which ordain’d
$THeir freedom: they themselves ordain’d their fall.
The first sort by their own suggestion fell,
Self-tempted, self-deprav’d:  Man falls, deceiv’d
By the other first:  Man therefore shall find grace,
The other none:  In mercy and justice both,
Through Heaven and Earth, so shall my glory excel;
But Mercy, first and last, shall brightest shine.
Thus while God spake, ambrosial fragrance fill’d
All Heaven, and in the blessed Spirits elect
Sense of new joy ineffable diffus’d.
Beyond compare the Son of God was seen
Most glorious; in him all his Father shone
Substantially express’d; and in his face
Divine compassion visibly appear’d,
Love without end, and without measure grace,
Which uttering, thus he to his Father spake.
O Father, gracious was that word which clos’d
Thy sovran command, that Man should find grace;
, that Man should find grace;
For which both Heaven and earth shall high extol
Thy praises, with the innumerable sound
Of hymns and sacred songs, wherewith thy throne
Encompass’d shall resound thee ever blest.
For should Man finally be lost, should Man,
Thy creature late so lov’d, thy youngest son,
Fall circumvented thus by fraud, though join’d
With his own folly?  that be from thee far,
That far be from thee, Father, who art judge
Of all things made, and judgest only right.
Or shall the Adversary thus obtain
His end, and frustrate thine?  shall he fulfill
His malice, and thy goodness bring to nought,
Or proud return, though to his heavier doom,
Yet with revenge accomplish’d, and to Hell
Draw after him the whole race of mankind,
By him corrupted?  or wilt thou thyself
Abolish thy creation, and unmake
For him, what for thy glory thou hast made?
So should thy goodness and thy greatness both
Be question’d and blasphem’d without defence.
To whom the great Creator thus replied.
O son, in whom my soul hath chief delight,
Son of my *****, Son who art alone.
My word, my wisdom, and effectual might,
All hast thou spoken as my thoughts are, all
As my eternal purpose hath decreed;
Man shall not quite be lost, but sav’d who will;
Yet not of will in him, but grace in me
Freely vouchsaf’d; once more I will renew
His lapsed powers, though forfeit; and enthrall’d
By sin to foul exorbitant desires;
Upheld by me, yet once more he shall stand
On even ground against his mortal foe;
By me upheld, that he may know how frail
His fallen condition is, and to me owe
All his deliverance, and to none but me.
Some I have chosen of peculiar grace,
Elect above the rest; so is my will:
The rest shall hear me call, and oft be warn’d
Their sinful state, and to appease betimes
The incensed Deity, while offer’d grace
Invites; for I will clear their senses dark,
What may suffice, and soften stony hearts
To pray, repent, and bring obedience due.
To prayer, repentance, and obedience due,
Though but endeavour’d with sincere intent,
Mine ear shall not be slow, mine eye not shut.
And I will place within them as a guide,
My umpire Conscience; whom if they will hear,
Light after light, well us’d, they shall attain,
And to the end, persisting, safe arrive.
This my long sufferance, and my day of grace,
They who neglect and scorn, shall never taste;
But hard be harden’d, blind be blinded more,
That they may stumble on, and deeper fall;
And none but such from mercy I exclude.
But yet all is not done; Man disobeying,
Disloyal, breaks his fealty, and sins
Against the high supremacy of Heaven,
Affecting God-head, and, so losing all,
To expiate his treason hath nought left,
But to destruction sacred and devote,
He, with his whole posterity, must die,
Die he or justice must; unless for him
Some other able, and as willing, pay
The rigid satisfaction, death for death.
Say, heavenly Powers, where shall we find such love?
Which of you will be mortal, to redeem
Man’s mortal crime, and just the unjust to save?
Dwells in all Heaven charity so dear?
And silence was in Heaven: $ on Man’s behalf
He ask’d, but all the heavenly quire stood mute,
Patron or intercessour none appear’d,
Much less that durst upon his own head draw
The deadly forfeiture, and ransom set.
And now without redemption all mankind
Must have been lost, adjudg’d to Death and Hell
By doom severe, had not the Son of God,
In whom the fulness dwells of love divine,
His dearest mediation thus renew’d.
Father, thy word is past, Man shall find grace;
And shall grace not find means, that finds her way,
The speediest of thy winged messengers,
To visit all thy creatures, and to all
Comes unprevented, unimplor’d, unsought?
Happy for Man, so coming; he her aid
Can never seek, once dead in sins, and lost;
Atonement for himself, or offering meet,
Indebted and undone, hath none to bring;
Behold me then:  me for him, life for life
I offer: on me let thine anger fall;
Account me Man; I for his sake will leave
Thy *****, and this glory next to thee
Freely put off, and for him lastly die
Well pleased; on me let Death wreak all his rage.
Under his gloomy power I shall not long
Lie vanquished. Thou hast given me to possess
Life in myself for ever; by thee I live;
Though now to Death I yield, and am his due,
All that of me can die, yet, that debt paid,
$ thou wilt not leave me in the loathsome grave
His prey, nor suffer my unspotted soul
For ever with corruption there to dwell;
But I shall rise victorious, and subdue
My vanquisher, spoiled of his vaunted spoil.
Death his death’s wound shall then receive, and stoop
Inglorious, of his mortal sting disarmed;
I through the ample air in triumph high
Shall lead Hell captive maugre Hell, and show
The powers of darkness bound. Thou, at the sight
Pleased, out of Heaven shalt look down and smile,
While, by thee raised, I ruin all my foes;
Death last, and with his carcase glut the grave;
Then, with the multitude of my redeemed,
Shall enter Heaven, long absent, and return,
Father, to see thy face, wherein no cloud
Of anger shall remain, but peace assured
And reconcilement: wrath shall be no more
Thenceforth, but in thy presence joy entire.
His words here ended; but his meek aspect
Silent yet spake, and breathed immortal love
To mortal men, above which only shone
Filial obedience: as a sacrifice
Glad to be offered, he attends the will
Of his great Father. Admiration seized
All Heaven, what this might mean, and whither tend,
Wondering; but soon th’ Almighty thus replied.
O thou in Heaven and Earth the only peace
Found out for mankind under wrath, O thou
My sole complacence! Well thou know’st how dear
To me are all my works; nor Man the least,
Though last created, that for him I spare
Thee from my ***** and right hand, to save,
By losing thee a while, the whole race lost.

Thou, therefore, whom thou only canst redeem,
Their nature also to thy nature join;
And be thyself Man among men on Earth,
Made flesh, when time shall be, of ****** seed,
By wondrous birth; be thou in Adam’s room
The head of all mankind, though Adam’s son.
As in him perish all men, so in thee,
As from a second root, shall be restored
As many as are restored, without thee none.
His crime makes guilty all his sons; thy merit,
Imputed, shall absolve them who renounce
Their own both righteous and unrighteous deeds,
And live in thee transplanted, and from thee
Receive new life.  So Man, as is most just,
Shall satisfy for Man, be judged and die,
And dying rise, and rising with him raise
His brethren, ransomed with his own dear life.
So heavenly love shall outdo hellish hate,
Giving to death, and dying to redeem,
So dearly to redeem what hellish hate
So easily destroyed, and still destroys
In those who, when they may, accept not grace.
Nor shalt thou, by descending to assume
Man’s nature, lessen or degrade thine own.
Because thou hast, though throned in highest bliss
Equal to God, and equally enjoying
God-like fruition, quitted all, to save
A world from utter loss, and hast been found
By merit more than birthright Son of God,
Found worthiest to be so by being good,
Far more than great or high; because in thee
Love hath abounded more than glory abounds;
Therefore thy humiliation shall exalt
With thee thy manhood also to this throne:
Here shalt thou sit incarnate, here shalt reign
Both God and Man, Son both of God and Man,
Anointed universal King; all power
I give thee; reign for ever, and assume
Thy merits; under thee, as head supreme,
Thrones, Princedoms, Powers, Dominions, I reduce:
All knees to thee shall bow, of them that bide
In Heaven, or Earth, or under Earth in Hell.
When thou, attended gloriously from Heaven,
Shalt in the sky appear, and from thee send
The summoning Arch-Angels to proclaim
Thy dread tribunal; forthwith from all winds,
The living, and forthwith the cited dead
Of all past ages, to the general doom
Shall hasten; such a peal shall rouse their sleep.
Then, all thy saints assembled, thou shalt judge
Bad Men and Angels; they, arraigned, shall sink
Beneath thy sentence; Hell, her numbers full,
Thenceforth shall be for ever shut.  Mean while
The world shall burn, and from her ashes spring
New Heaven and Earth, wherein the just shall dwell,
And, after all their tribulations long,
See golden days, fruitful of golden deeds,
With joy and peace triumphing, and fair truth.
Then thou thy regal scepter shalt lay by,
For regal scepter then no more shall need,
God shall be all in all.  But, all ye Gods,
Adore him, who to compass all this dies;
Adore the Son, and honour him as me.
No sooner had the Almighty ceased, but all
The multitude of Angels, with a shout
Loud as from numbers without number, sweet
As from blest voices, uttering joy, Heaven rung
With jubilee, and loud Hosannas filled
The eternal regions:  Lowly reverent
Towards either throne they bow, and to the ground
With solemn adoration down they cast
Their crowns inwove with amarant and gold;
Immortal amarant, a flower which once
In Paradise, fast by the tree of life,
Began to bloom; but soon for man’s offence
To Heaven removed, where first it grew, there grows,
And flowers aloft shading the fount of life,
And where the river of bliss through midst of Heaven
Rolls o’er Elysian flowers her amber stream;
With these that never fade the Spirits elect
Bind their resplendent locks inwreathed with beams;
Now in loose garlands thick thrown off, the bright
Pavement, that like a sea of jasper shone,
Impurpled with celestial roses smiled.
Then, crowned again, their golden harps they took,
Harps ever tuned, that glittering by their side
Like quivers hung, and with preamble sweet
Of charming symphony they introduce
Their sacred song, and waken raptures high;
No voice exempt, no voice but well could join
Melodious part, such concord is in Heaven.
Thee, Father, first they sung

215

What is—”Paradise”—
Who live there—
Are they “Farmers”—
Do they “***”—
Do they know that this is “Amherst”—
And that I—am coming—too—

Do they wear “new shoes”—in “Eden”—
Is it always pleasant—there—
Won’t they scold us—when we’re homesick—
Or tell God—how cross we are—

You are sure there’s such a person
As “a Father”—in the sky—
So if I get lost—there—ever—
Or do what the Nurse calls “die”—
I shan’t walk the “Jasper”—barefoot—
Ransomed folks—won’t laugh at me—
Maybe—”Eden” a’n't so lonesome
As New England used to be!

Into life I emerged my fathers queen of his forest lands with his death suffered my Purepecha Tarazcan Mestizo gene mold
and my massive character
developed seared with scars;
first grand loss my father my land
Foe pierced my Teen
Mestizo cactus pear
by deceptive method
his ugly bitter tequila mix
second loss badboy with
a twist virgins his compulssion
the wise universe quickly RANSOMED my pain!
in Texan country songs and mariachi night parrandas
wedding promises galore
in Irish cream PA-dreams
entwined disavowed
drowned all this magic.
along came refuge an evil poisoning uzo on his dunkey
slandering Grecian mythology teaching his many medeas
executing premeditated cruel early death wasn't what I had in mind for restitution
leaping from foe to another one worse  and still I loved life repaying evil for my good
malicious slandering experts
stealing envious jealousy torturing my baby girls new born making pieces of me giving birth!
all this and more remained impune being dead calm in shock
All I ever saught in life was to love be loved cherished adored by one special human regadless of name nationality creed or social status and guess what!?
I found all the BEST all treasures all bank amidts all this saga.

Yes I was too battered to seize opportunity too rejected to say
" I love you- I am sorry,
I'll marry you." my beast!

twice husbands didn't call me wife first time I married only the ring I bought with my savings, tears and scars no husbands were they but foe covert enemy ****** sadist poisoner Greek
chicken **** Hen. in CA fed on******* agendas sold my baby girl coco to his infertile ex hell nurse bailing him out******* dues possing as Mother to my child invented a birth certificate 1983 then tried to ****** me each time I went to E R. smothering me during minor urgery 2009 in honor a covert life insurance criminals with a twist
many times they tried many times they failed I have more lives then a cat.
The Greek human trafficant
blackmailed by his medeas
for his ongoing crimes sadomised my baby girls I give this Greek geek ten traits of narcicistic personality more in his grave "haralobo"his kiriakis and many mistress
I escaped him inhell greece
I emerged seared with scars.
a fierce protective Mother
now a grandmother stern
but ever understanding
ever loving
I am not ranting
nor lamenting!

I survived where many other battered women died
seared with scars
I write.
O how many women do!
O how many Moms don't
survive covert enemies
with a twist.
~~~~~~~
By: Karjinbba
All rights reserved.

Amidst the heirs and privileged sect,
who in this land have laid their claim,
and while we’ve dozed our lives infect,
with arrogance, has brought us shame.

We claim of freedom in our land,
yet turn away those bitter cries,
of those who need compassioned hands,
while leaders hide in cloaks of lies.

Our anthem sings of bold, brave men,
yet bullies all around us hide,
among the political select
and those with killing guns divide.

We’ve sold our souls to those in power;
to those who’d rather gain than lead,
we're ransomed in our darkest hour,
to greedy black agendas feed.

Our ransomed states cannot sustain,
the beating of our separate hearts.
Unless our world can join as one,
we’ll all be forced to fight apart.

I am only an ocean, a great rage and the ever-sinking sea
Lamenting every marred sailor forged in the waters of Galilee

No more shall sailors mourn a forgotten plea:
A ransom for hell, where devils run free

Forgive and forget
But never forget my eyes
The rage you lament
Remains lost to solemn lies

You are only now, only here, and solemnly mine,
For what is brimstone but ash beneath the dying brine?

You are my sword, my heart and my final lament and plea
Forget not my mind lost to hell’s every subtlety

There is only rage that awaits among this sea
Forever pining for a ransomed eternity.

1289

Left in immortal Youth
On that low Plain
That hath nor Retrospection
Nor Again—
Ransomed from years—
Sequestered from Decay
Canceled like Dawn
In comprehensive Day—

763

He told a homely tale
And spotted it with tears—
Upon his infant face was set
The Cicatrice of years—

All crumpled was the cheek
No other kiss had known
Than flake of snow, divided with
The Redbreast of the Barn—

If Mother—in the Grave—
Or Father—on the Sea—
Or Father in the Firmament—
Or Brethren, had he—

If Commonwealth below,
Or Commonwealth above
Have missed a Barefoot Citizen—
I’ve ransomed it—alive—

As eager home-bound traveller to the goal,
  Or steadfast seeker on an unsearched main,
Or martyr panting for an aureole,
  My fellow-pilgrims pass me, and attain
That hidden mansion of perpetual peace,
  Where keen desire and hope dwell free from pain:
That gate stands open of perennial ease;
  I view the glory till I partly long,
Yet lack the fire of love which quickens these.
  O, passing Angel, speed me with a song,
A melody of heaven to reach my heart
  And rouse me to the race and make me strong;
Till in such music I take up my part,
  Swelling those Hallelujahs full of rest,
One, tenfold, hundred-fold, with heavenly art,
  Fulfilling north and south and east and west,
Thousand, ten-thousand-fold, innumerable,
  All blent in one yet each one manifest;
Each one distinguished and beloved as well
  As if no second voice in earth or heaven
Were lifted up the Love of God to tell.
  Ah, Love of God, which Thine Own Self hast given
To me most poor, and made me rich in love,
  Love that dost pass the tenfold seven times seven.
Draw Thou mine eyes, draw Thou my heart above,
  My treasure and my heart store Thou in Thee,
Brood over me with yearnings of a dove;
  Be Husband, Brother, closest Friend to me;
Love me as very mother loves her son,
  Her ******* firstborn fondled on her knee:
Yea, more than mother loves her little one;
  For, earthly, even a mother may forget
And feel no pity for its piteous moan;
  But Thou, O Love of God, remember yet,
Through the dry desert, through the waterflood
  (Life, death), until the Great White Throne is set.
If now I am sick in chewing the bitter cud
  Of sweet past sin, though solaced by Thy grace,
And ofttimes strengthened by Thy Flesh and Blood,
  How shall I then stand up before Thy face,
When from Thine eyes repentance shall be hid,
  And utmost Justice stand in Mercy's place:
When every sin I thought or spoke or did
  Shall meet me at the inexorable bar,
And there be no man standing in the mid
  To plead for me; while star fallen after star
With heaven and earth are like a ripened shock,
  And all time's mighty works and wonders are
Consumed as in a moment; when no rock
  Remains to fall on me, no tree to hide,
But I stand all creation's gazing-stock,
  Exposed and comfortless on every side,
Placed trembling in the final balances
  Whose poise this hour, this moment, must be tried?--
Ah, Love of God, if greater love than this
  Hath no man, that a man die for his friend,
And if such love of love Thine Own Love is,
  Plead with Thyself, with me, before the end;
Redeem me from the irrevocable past;
  Pitch Thou Thy Presence round me to defend;
Yea seek with pierced feet, yea hold me fast
  With pierced hands whose wounds were made by love;
Not what I am, remember what Thou wast
  When darkness hid from Thee Thy heavens above,
And sin Thy Father's Face, while Thou didst drink
  The bitter cup of death, didst taste thereof
For every man; while Thou wast nigh to sink
  Beneath the intense intolerable rod,
Grown sick of love; not what I am, but think
  Thy Life then ransomed mine, my God, my God.

What if this is me, losing my love?
What if this is my love being taken from me, kidnapped and ransomed and I don't have enough energy in my body to pay up?

Saturdays were her favorite.  She'd watch cartoons in the morning and play with paper dolls in the afternoon.  She made sure all the paper dolls had another doll to love them, a perfect match of brown eyes, cute smiles, light hair.

Where have you gone? I barely recognize you anymore.  How can I make you look new if all you ever do is sit in the corner like an old doll?  You're fragile, you're breakable.  I don't like what you've become and quite frankly, you're scaring me.  Stay over there, don't come close.  Tell me why your eyes are glazed over like that, tell me why your hair is coming out in patches and why your full pink smile has turned into a thin white line.  You were my best friend, you were my sister, you were my little Kelly.*

Sometimes she would watch the people that walked by.  She would choose names for each person and pick one individual out, imagining what their reaction would be to her saying, "I love you, will you run away with me?"

Come back, please.  When you started fading I thought it was because you had been in the sun too long, I thought it was because you hadn't had any food in some time.  Our tea parties became rare occurrences and you were always sleeping.  Come back, little Kelly.

One day she woke up with an energy made of something she couldn't measure.  Not joules, not electron volts, not anything she could quantize.  It wasn't the caffeine and it wasn't the 7 hours of sleep the night prior.  She woke up in love.

I've been trying to sell our house for two and a half years and it just won't sell.  You're poisoning this house, my old friend.  You need to leave, you need to be buried in the backyard, with the puppy we adopted and the bunny I hit with the truck when I was 17.  You need to get out of my house now.  We're both much too old to play together, and you never seemed to understand that I had to move on.

Her trouble was that she woke up in love with one stranger too many.  She's lied so many times that she doesn't trust herself anymore.  Make her decisions for her, she's not a fit mother to these poisonous ideas she is fostering in her head.  Don't allow her to choose her future.

Kelly, don't you see, I don't love you the way I used to.  Kelly, you need to go.  A family is stopping by this afternoon to take a tour of the house and you need to be swept out of the attic by then.  Pack your things.  Take your cracked glasses and your grey shoes.  I'm too old to be a part of your family now.

--

She sees a hint of what she fell in love with.  His eyes are downcast, his fingers strumming and thrumming her love songs without words, his mouth twitching with thoughts he can't seem to string into sentences.  He is a beautiful child again.

Sing me songs even chickadees don't know, strum me the most beautiful lullaby.  Take a picture of this moment- bottle it.
  
She loves the hint of a smile when he catches her staring at his lips instead of the neck of his guitar, when he realizes she is in maddening, chaotic love.

And some days you're just a friend.  I see you leaking from your life, straight out of your backyard.  And sometimes you mean nothing.  I see you standing alone on your deck, sitting on your cement paradise like it's your imaginary god.  Keep yourself in check.  You won't be getting any more kisses tonight, I can't – I can't let you be the one to make up my mind.
  
She can barely remember the days of being alone, of being unable to tell anyone about her scars shrouding her hips and her head that hung heavy.

Today was a fever, a fog of anger.  I want to make you hate me, I want you to leave.  Save your lies and excuses for someone else, I don't want to hear them. I hope the fog can creep in my ears and into my brain.  I want it to make me forget everything about you.  I'm sure I'd be happier.  Maybe if the fog can erase my memories, I can finally stop crying.  Maybe I can stop trying to prove I want to die.  Let me **** myself, let me go.  You're smoke in the wind and you're fading with every breath I take.

Sophomore year of high school was the most difficult time of her life.  Fortunately for her, she met you that winter.  You made her smile, you made her laugh. She found a boy whose blue eyes and long brown hair complimented her own. Her paper doll dream come true, you loved her as she was.

You are smog.  Your face is no longer a child of summer, your hair has gotten long and tangled.  Your eyes are clouded, and you are fading, slipping from my fingers.  As your soul dies in my arms, as I try to save you, you steal my breath, grab at my lungs, take what is keeping me alive.  What is there to fix, and can it be put back together again? L-o-v-e is only four letters long, but then again, so is your name, and god knows that doesn't mean anything to me anymore.

--

His back was straight and his stomach was soft.  The hollow of his collar bone and hip bone spelled her name in 12 point font kisses.  Her breath came out in gasps and he shivered from the thought of being able to coax such unfamiliar passion from her lips.

You are the night.  You are the wind in my dreams and the birds in my hair.  Lift me higher, I want no control.  I want to see the tops of buildings above the low level clouds; the spires piercing the sky like needles piercing my flesh.

The feeling doesn't wear away.  Days have passed and they still long for each other.  Their bodies feel the urge to be near, to be touching.

*Let us set sail on the tunes of summer, of air conditioners and scratchy radios.  Let us sail away from this life.

  When we shall see the ransomed host ,
Oh ! what a joy unspeakable,
All nations gathered,  kindreds , tongues
With God to dwell.

In a twinkling , in a twinkling,
Glory ! Hallelujah !
We'll be raptured  , to His *****,
Shouting  'Maranatha' !
Sweet voices blend with one accord,
To worship God.

The days are fleeting , end is nigh,
A precious thought to every saint,
We've waited long for that bright morn,
And ne'er did faint.

The kingdom cometh , reign of peace,
When God is King , then blissful mirth,
The  saints with him as Kings and priests
Return to earth.

In days of yore the saints foretold,
That God would dwell with mortal men,
The earth restored , as Eden  was,
For  sons of men.

Then as the rose the deserts bloom ,
No maimed are there , no blind, no dumb,
When lamb and wolf with leopard lie,
Thy Kingdom come.  

It's for me on the  tree He endured agony,
What a beautiful thought to my soul;
It was love and for me, what a sight Calvary,
It was there that He ransomed my soul.

Dearer than gold , dearer than gold,
Yes , the Saviour  is  dearer than gold,
Dearer  than  gold , dearer  than gold,

There is no other plea, and for sinners like me,
How enticing Thy Word to my ear,
When Thou came seeking me that as mortal to be,
Perfect love hath now cast out all fear.

Through the stripes laid on Thee, there is healing for me,
Balm of Heaven my sickness to cure,
Thy compassion I see, reaching wide as the sea,
For Thy promise is steadfast  and sure.

Though the ages I'll know of the sufferings , He bore,
Mercy soundeth  like  harps out  of Zion,
And the sages of old , they shall sing of this lore,
All the glory to Judah's great Lion.

Let the sinner now know, Christ hath crushed the great foe,
Cruel  Satan, thy siting is  no more,
Hoist the banner to show that through faith we shall go,
And that boldly , through Jesus our Door.**

,

Parting was a threat,
Love was a wielded blood word,
Dangerous passion.

Fly through the snow Matilda my Queen
in your cloak of white so new and clean
fly to Wallingford and Brien Fitzcount
race to him on your fine-bred mount.......

Nest met her as a maiden fair
sent to brush and braid her hair
they came to speak of her young life
So learning Nest was a young wife
Her husband taken ransomed high
noone yet his life to buy
So nest an offer makes the Queen
Her safety then she has forseen

"Henry's son and heir you be
promise now your word to me
my ancient spells will blind men's eyes
my mother taught me well and wise
Wear this magic woollen cloak
over which great Olwen spoke
no man will see you in the snow
ride free to Wallingford now Go!
But see you pay the price of mine
gold for my husband's freedom fine
If you fail me mark it well
you won't escape from my mother's spell

So Matilda fled and made her move
and Nest's fine gold she did approve
but time was run and so too late
The poor young knight had met his fate
The bargain that they had was done
yet though a high and lofty one
she sent a note back with the cloak
in it wishes gently wrote
"For the loss of your man
no gold will pay
so empty words
I will not say
But whatever you ask for
I will give
except to make
the dead man live"

"Send me two oxen
Welsh and stong
dark and quiet
each six feet long
a yolk of yew
a chain of steel
and what I do
I shall reveal"

the debt was paid
the oxen came
from Ruthin
perfect each the same
then off she went
alone and strong
a journey dark
a journey long

Nest came to lofty Norman towers
strong walls fine ladies in their bowers
threw a mist against the stones
here to find her lover's bones
Beast's chained to the Castle wall
hauled straight down they crash and fall
then stealing through the rush and mist
Olwen's cloak does she even exist
noone sees her at the grave
her oxen draw forth this poor Welsh knave
then mourning her loss they steal away
none go near she'll curse they say
Her keening song of tragedies
make even stone hearts feel unease
will her vengeance come down hard
will they fall by magic marred
the people quiver in the rain
feeling now her anguished pain
But fear not this girl of ancient sight
she is not here to hurt or fight
just here to find her lover's bones
and sing to them as she carries him home

When  none was found to ransom me, He was found worthy.
To set world of sinners free, He was found worthy.

Oh, the bleeding Lamb ! Oh, the bleeding Lamb !
Oh , the bleeding Lamb , He was found worthy.
To take the book and loose the seal , He was found worthy.
To bruise the head that bruised His heel , He was found worthy.
To bridge the gulf'twixt man and God, He was found worthy.
And save the rebels by His blood, He was found worthy.
To open wide the gates of heaven , He was found worthy.
To Him all Majesty is given , He was found worthy.
To reign o'er all the ransomed race, He was found worthy.
I've  tasted of His saving grace, He was found worthy.
His blood has  washed me white as snow, He was found worthy.
And to His fulness I shall grow, He was found worthy.

Three sisters of foul prophecy
sharing one tooth and one ocular oddity
A great hero came entering the sisters cave alone
Wanting to inquire the whereabouts of the cursed stone

The hero requesting information for what he desired
he ransomed their eye for what he required
Being threatened the sisters gave the information he bequeathed
In returned he gave back the eye of which he seized

Israel foreshadowed in Egypt
Untouched by the Plaques
Passed over by the Destroyer
Egypt broken and bowed
With strangers, Israel walked free
Handsomely ransomed, a nation is born
So shall Israel again be in the Tribulation
As light for sight and salt to taste
And again with strangers
In haste and with bitterness
Come out of the World
Raptured as the First born of God

A Rich man laid trapped in an evil desert obis.
Meanwhile a bounty hunter searched for a disabled elder a miss.
He heard the screams desperate deep and blurted.
He ignored his senses, weighting risk like none had heard it.

His body walked on but his nose smelt loot.
He risked his life and clawed him out honey to scoop.
Boosted on shoulders the triumph tasted lick on sweet!
A statue I will make in your honor for your courageous feet!

“No need I’m just happy your safe no need for honor!”
But deep in the invisible dark silence he brood for his daughter.
Then a stench of half eaten carcass ransomed the moment gross and misplaced.
Staring in disgust they agreed “What a pitiful disgrace!

The day before walked the elder man whom was blind and mute.
He heard a cry from the soil and searched in earnest for the root
He clapped his hands and stomped his feet
Risking his very life in blind eyes deceit

Grabbing at the wind, tired broken in vain.
The rich man heard his noisy attempts and cursed his name.
That didn't stop the blind and mute man from trying.
Instead a jagged stone gashed open his leg leaving him bleeding and dying.

The grains of the dessert soaked the earth and cried for his rest.
As the coyotes fought over his wounded flesh....
The rich man claimed “my life I swear will be in your place!!”
With his last bit of life the old man wished the man in the pit would be safe................................

grand those fortunes
which still pour,
grains of purest sugar
from sores in sacks where it's kept

they never bother the floors -
hillocks at times swept
for country club dues,
or spent on jaguars
the youngsters will drive -

it refills from endless supply,
now out of ransomed dreams
a rabble may dare,
repaid in their knees
and knuckles worn bare

bleeding tremolite lungs of old men
lending respectability to old names,
ensuring children's safe distance
from wizened brown limbs
of people forefathers traded,
broken black bodies hidden
in mounds of white wealth,

heathen souls saved at the altar,
naked but for irons they wore
lives mortgaged for
their good Christian deaths
all for sweetness
of more.

in a tiny hotel
with only one room
and a single bed
that folds up into a chair
a light flickers throughout the night
people go there to forget
to forgive
to disintegrate
to reinvigorate
my story is of a woman
stressed in multiples
and tired from prayer
she unlayers herself for sleep
first the anvil
then the gun
she dreams of stark blues
and ransomed kisses
she awakens in a house
a 1000 miles away
her husband is not her husband
her children are not her children
her life, somebody else’s,
she can only smile
as she awaits a brand new day...

Yesterday's shadows called me back
beyond the dooryard lane
trodden with laughter that swings through the years
on nature's windowpane.

A seed of mercy cracks the earth
tangled with neglect
a letter spun from heaven's heartbeat
swallowing my debt.

The startled shoots of dormant faith
tremble at morning's first blush
and choke the frozen roots of fear
beneath the Savior's touch.

The infant leaf unwraps its strength
ransomed by the Lord
and thrusts away its broken bonds
abandoned to His Word.

I'll tarry by the feet of Jesus
carried by the cross
that sprouts a crown of matchless grace
for all who wander lost.

Heroic in the face of fate,
nooses cinched about the nape,
ransomed at the city's gate,
sackcloth their adorning drape.

Bearing keys to England's King,
the six against a town compared.
Bad omens that their death may bring,
thus the burghers' lives were spared.

...want M&M's right now!


(sonnet #MMMMMMMCDXIX)


Out where a fragile silence listens, pale
Sweet minutes on their honour as suspense
Hangs like the rick'ty signboard of what hence
Shall cough ere giving voice, yes, in that frail
Calm rain does not quite tiptoe through t'avail,
The voiceless naught is keenly for intents
Half harking to what we don't hear from thence
In all our haste to be, I search for bail.
Old pools of water, silver-faced, don't stir,
And crickets gently fiddle; cars pass through,
Truck sans a care, weeds look too yellow to
Be ransomed, and the eaves drip.  Oh, what were
We thinking, really?  Death knocks 'gain in tour
Yet we feign not to notice.  Ah, what's new?

30Sep18a

The moans and screams of dying men;
a scene and sound surreal.
The flower of French Chivalry
cut down by English steel.
English Harry has won this day
on this wet and muddy ground.
So many high born men laid low,
but I am still around.
It was my blood that ransomed me
when others’ blood was shed.
I am the Duke of Orleans.
A poet, some have said.
In the aftermath of battle;
wounded, left to bleed.
Sir Richard Waller found me
and attended to my needs.
So today I am his prisoner,
we’ll become friends in time.
Now I am bound for England
as a “guest” of the English crown.
We’d had the numbers and the strength
to bring proud Henry down.
His Yeoman archers  turned the tide
on this awful muddy ground.
Beset by woods on either flank
No room to strike or move.
It was our Constables’ worst mistake
and the last, as time would prove
Like a dark and deadly rain they fell
out of a clear blue sky.
Here on the field of Agincourt
where Princes came to die.

Forsaken anew; / failure’s company
Saturnine, my soul; / assurance broken
Order to chaos; / fractured symmetry
Alone with failure / Hope was yet token

Blood in the mirror / oozing lethargy
The instrument held / in the victim’s hand
Lambasted pride’s pith; / pain the elegy
Drip down, down to dirt; /soul’s vice reprimand

The high price paid for / blind cowardice proud
To slough shamed sin sets /my soul to quail
Failure to stop pride; /sanguine stained I stand
My blood measures short, /to sin-siege, I fail

But God is faithful, / redeemer belov’d
His blood ransomed me; /Praise to Him who loves

Draw a stick figure
future - diminished
and virus ransomed.

Paint the landscape
with the sweltering glare
of global warming.

Come share this
with me - let kisses heal and
soft whispers inflame.

Some locks need two keys
to open; some heavens can
be reached by mortals.

She was pushed, into a box, no, that is not right,
she was made to accept, inhuman acts, what a sight,
how dare he do it?

So much hate and vociferous violence directed,
at an innocent, she was starving, for the opposite,
he shamed himself and blamed her.

Bit by bit and piece by piece, she was disassembled,
restructured and her psyche crumbled till she trembled,
even her her sleep.

There is a millstone with his name on it, he is not alone,
that admission makes me not sad but mad, he may be
alive, forgive and forget not, before God, to atone.

Next stop Hell.



To her friends;
You did not fail, although you might have those
ransomed thoughts, if she was but an angel, you did your best and chose,
to help one who was spirited away, you did your best and God knows.

I have no other words to comfort you, in this tragic loss.

so you can understand the voice of eva cassidy, and hear the beauty of plagiarism as above original composition; sometimes it fares to count a minute than live an hour, when all an hour can bring is asphyxiating sails that have but a viking dreaming of greenland, and deeper north to no sunrise awaited turning viking into eskimo; but it's still a bit **** that they remember jeff buckley than eva; i preferred his father, timothy; n'ah, not really, hence the whimper, hence the weep, hence leeroy cohen giving us the bricks and the pavement to wrestle drunk trails of the otherwise respected walk of pride, or shame, into the grave.*

wet your hand before touching ice,
and i promise you,
you will turn into a spider,
a wetted hand touching ice
will cling like traversing
odd geometries,
you really don't need
an oxbridge education
to speak a tongue
so easily exported to australia,
india and new hampshire,
but like i said:
i will not go to that sikh *****'s
wedding a daughter out
of principle, as i breathed out
a soul most recognisably seen in winter
(a bottle of wine for me is
a glass of beer for you):
we shall meet again Darshan,
with soul and ease of thought,
for ease of thought means soul,
and that, my dear feline imam,
who i chiselled a gravestone off
a grave to bury your ash...
is as far as the buddhist sun will be allowed
to rise from horizon frequented by
stars in depths and squid reminding of
the oceanic fluorescent graffiti,
search one's own depth before searching
a depth to others...
you provide a shallowness
others will acknowledge as sound relief
readied for critique...
just because you read don quixote doesn't
make you a genius, more a plagiarist...
but it helps to have something bulky...
my metabolism states:
a verse at a time, two hours for one
in the cantos, then a newspaper article
(i never managed to understand why
people read trash upon wake & transit,
to some odd affair with address and signature,
why read the world's rotary gullibility
with tongue in cheek tongue tied predictability?
why not begin the day straining the eyes
at tolstoty's ******* no one dare read
for fear of being ransomed by boredom?
you russian or something?
there's no prize concerning national pride,
so why bother?
philosophers say the dumbest **** about philosophy,
they talk perception perception reality via "the perceived",
and then they say it takes ageing, or quiet simply
old age, loss of libido to define the subject matter;
i say... it's defined by spontaneity, because
it's a subject once it's fleeting, a butterfly conundrum,
anything beyond that is a tapeworm:
it feeds by feeding of a host, and that's that.
Darshan, my quicksilver in water,
we'll meet once more, again,
when we'll say: thinking with ease,
to the ultimatum of arguing whether a god exists
exploited to exchange pronouns with nouns
and vice versa... to be less identifiable
as a hope for fame... to think with ease,
disregard points of closure... with soul...
to be with soul and the ease to think,
such is the travesty of unquestionable morality...
the ultimate defiance of the gods in terms of mortality:
man's rebellion was to ask of morals,
the gods simply gave us mortality.