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"reconciles" poems
We live on the ripples of a beating heart Sailing wide across a great black sea Each pulses like falling raindrops As we drift on the surface of destiny We know the struggles and the storms to come Foundations the turmoils of passing winds Are scattering on our way towards the sun Were raised by none but the breathe of our will We become landscapes the further we are drawn Cold mountains, dense forests, oceans and such, On our carved existence all promise to be found As we roam from mood to mood and thought to thought We understand at last what the touch reconciles When we start to realize what we had always known That the world was always ours, and it dawns on our mind That the rainfall had stopped while we’d landed home
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Jul 14, 2019
Jul 14, 2019 at 11:54 AM UTC
Pondering #3 — Ripples and Rainfall (2019)
Like a greedy vulture, I pecked at my skin What is there to accept? Is it the discoloured patches where plump red blush had settled before? Rosy and full of life, I will mourn for my past self. Is it the falling strings of hair giving up on embracing my tired neck? A backbone that has defied its own purpose. In a world of exchange and sharing Nature has found a place in me My soul reconciles with the desire to bloom But my body is dwelling in its ashy winter days Between the night and day Find me halfway deciding where to go, It will either be aspiring to be the sun or waiting for the end to die with the moon.
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Jul 21, 2014
Jul 21, 2014 at 10:30 AM UTC
A Poem About Trying
Love is the greatest force of all mankind... of all cosmos, of all movement of all that is wild and deranged held safe in a locket, clandestine, casually singing reigning from clouds of rain sonnets of seismic sound sway trees encouraging sodded fields grow greener than yesterday yet sprightly and anew soon nudging the node of the naysayers neighing, bulging out their blue button ups cramping, beastly belly's brooding to feast on the blooming young, the callow of a courageous continuum trooping along gaily with gallantry on trails, heralding gnarled roots but this is rhythm and rhythm is rhyme and rhyme reconciles reasoning "i love you for no other reason but i love you" says the tales of two seeking singularity, soaking in the sauna of one, sovereign sun.
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Sep 12, 2018
Sep 12, 2018 at 6:24 PM UTC
A Sovereign Sun
A frail old man wanders aimlessly along the boardwalk of a deserted beach Hunched over like the the boughs of an oak tree weighed down by its branches Things burden this man. Heavy in weight on mind and body Once swarming with tourists in a way similar to flies around a porch light this beach is now dank and dismal to the eye The preconceptions of flashing lights and rowdy parties filling its strip just reside as a distant memory in the depth of the deep blue. On which he gazes out to after taking a long wheezing breath into his shrivelled lungs. He stands alone reminiscing about previous conquests from his long distant youth Thinking about all his relationships with friends and loved ones Perusing through his memory bank as of he were a granddad proudly giving a slideshow to his only grandchild And as a tear slowly trickles down his weathered face he reconciles with himself that like seeing the last copy of an acclaimed novel being sold he definitely let the one get away. As this fact dawns on him, knowing he shall always be alone He takes a deliberate pace towards the steps leading to the sandy wasteland that used to be so glorious and golden. Gradually picking up speed and stumbling over himself he makes the journey to the edge of the water Fully aware of the desire that is overtaking his mind, body and soul The sea begins to seep into his shoes then dampens the tip of his trousers Now with the water up to his waist he is shivering and struggling to catch his breath But onwards he walks becoming stronger as he battles the waves cascading against his body. Is this really what it has come to, but as the last strand of his silky grey hair disappears into the salty blue He feels the weight of the past float away and he is at peace The water has cleansed his soul, rinsed his mind Deep in the depths of the sea shall his regrets remain forever. And as his body floats to the surface his soul rises higher and higher up to the clouds Reaching the end his eyes catch a glimpse through the pearly whiteness Of a silhouette he recognises It stands facing away seeming to exude beauty like a single rose in hand of a romantic gesture When he steps through the gates The silhouette senses his presence and turns He knows in that moment, he has made it He is in Heaven.
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Feb 24, 2013
Feb 24, 2013 at 3:53 PM UTC
A Shore Thing
A frail old man wanders aimlessly along the boardwalk of a deserted beach Hunched over like the the boughs of an oak tree weighed down by its branches Things burden this man. Heavy in weight on mind and body Once swarming with tourists in a way similar to flies around a porch light this beach is now dank and dismal to the eye The preconceptions of flashing lights and rowdy parties filling its strip just reside as a distant memory in the depth of the deep blue. On which he gazes out to after taking a long wheezing breath into his shrivelled lungs. He stands alone reminiscing about previous conquests from his long distant youth Thinking about all his relationships with friends and loved ones Perusing through his memory bank as of he were a granddad proudly giving a slideshow to his only grandchild And as a tear slowly trickles down his weathered face he reconciles with himself that like seeing the last copy of an acclaimed novel being sold he definitely let the one get away. As this fact dawns on him, knowing he shall always be alone He takes a deliberate pace towards the steps leading to the sandy wasteland that used to be so glorious and golden. Gradually picking up speed and stumbling over himself he makes the journey to the edge of the water Fully aware of the desire that is overtaking his mind, body and soul The sea begins to seep into his shoes then dampens the tip of his trousers Now with the water up to his waist he is shivering and struggling to catch his breath But onwards he walks becoming stronger as he battles the waves cascading against his body. Is this really what it has come to, but as the last strand of his silky grey hair disappears into the salty blue He feels the weight of the past float away and he is at peace The water has cleansed his soul, rinsed his mind Deep in the depths of the sea shall his regrets remain forever. And as his body floats to the surface his soul rises higher and higher up to the clouds Reaching the end his eyes catch a glimpse through the pearly whiteness Of a silhouette he recognises It stands facing away seeming to exude beauty like a single rose in hand of a romantic gesture When he steps through the gates The silhouette senses his presence and turns He knows in that moment, he has made it He is in Heaven.
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suspected of being problematic, one is a common but questionable model, and an adjustment may be required to address all the nonsignificant differences— how they nonetheless constitute important arbitrary criterions for equivalence the significance test based on observational data is susceptible to (errors of) interpretation over the question at issue namely, do case differences arise because of exposure to a comparatively small sample or because of another variable? Exposure can be only mediated by crude estimates and so may be misleading during the forming of the hypothesized model of one that describes the association between exposure, bias, and the variables, and reconciles difference with equivalence significantly. The model provides little information that is incontrovertible but the results suggest if adjustment for the variable makes no substantive difference ignore it but if your knowledge indicates the adjusted variable to be preferable then prefer it
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Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 7:25 PM UTC
Confounding
Storm clouds rollin' in I hear the lightning and wind create  ambient noise while while Sonny Boy Williamson plays the main event. The trails and troubles of a ***** tonic create a humble abyss of pure synthetic pleasure. I try to understand these burning waves of unwanted desire that mold my inner being into an obscure life form. The desired unconscious being. Confusion brought on by my own state of unconscious consciousness. I love so much I become sober with tired will that reconciles nothing. **** The thunder cracks. The dog is knocking.
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Jan 13, 2013
Jan 13, 2013 at 2:47 PM UTC
On being a drunk
splendid anticipation twisting sapling towards skyroots again porous attrocities absorb all happenstance toward equilibrium prance in trance, dance enhance the words are subtle still and vague privy to thoughts portrayed by strays, mainstays frayed by microwaves this cancer causing communication, new information trending towards midlifestations I still see the spark, still taste the quark. yet improvisations on the fly are hindered loquaciousness is all a hoax, jokes and folks hold this shaky oak some still breathe for the trees most still wish only to seize but the smiles ring through all these trials all the whiles no reconciles flies are gathering on this **** and still my feeling wont equit where is the man from the sky? the one who wont shell our eyes? was it a woman within the weaves, the stars unfolding remolding us as lumps of clay and changing the meaning of the word geigh sleighride with me onto the seas, now frozen by your cold wilting weeze rhymes and verses traverse like hearses picking up where my thoughts stop short clicking and twisting, familiar sorts sing songs of us between retorts it all points to that familiar end, when i cower away and wont defend the points of light in pupils stares between this line nothing impairs tear away the peeling, reeling and the chewey center within its not a sin to mend the seams and come forthright steal from my mind just one last kiss, an idle embrace you've never held, grasping at least that's what the clouds are hissing, evaporating what ive been missing mix it all in one big *** stewing all the things that i am not you label me a fool in vain, for i have danced between the rain impossible sorts of things i've felt, callussed noses refused to've smelt whisper all the words in pairs, double the potency of stares climb up the rungs one by one and suddenly the songs i've sung will bellow in through the wind and you'll wonder if there's time to find the reason within this rhyme
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Jun 20, 2014
Jun 20, 2014 at 2:19 AM UTC
Sprites
splendid anticipation twisting sapling towards skyroots again porous attrocities absorb all happenstance toward equilibrium prance in trance, dance enhance the words are subtle still and vague privy to thoughts portrayed by strays, mainstays frayed by microwaves this cancer causing communication, new information trending towards midlifestations I still see the spark, still taste the quark. yet improvisations on the fly are hindered loquaciousness is all a hoax, jokes and folks hold this shaky oak some still breathe for the trees most still wish only to seize but the smiles ring through all these trials all the whiles no reconciles flies are gathering on this **** and still my feeling wont equit where is the man from the sky? the one who wont shell our eyes? was it a woman within the weaves, the stars unfolding remolding us as lumps of clay and changing the meaning of the word geigh sleighride with me onto the seas, now frozen by your cold wilting weeze rhymes and verses traverse like hearses picking up where my thoughts stop short clicking and twisting, familiar sorts sing songs of us between retorts it all points to that familiar end, when i cower away and wont defend the points of light in pupils stares between this line nothing impairs tear away the peeling, reeling and the chewey center within its not a sin to mend the seams and come forthright steal from my mind just one last kiss, an idle embrace you've never held, grasping at least that's what the clouds are hissing, evaporating what ive been missing mix it all in one big *** stewing all the things that i am not you label me a fool in vain, for i have danced between the rain impossible sorts of things i've felt, callussed noses refused to've smelt whisper all the words in pairs, double the potency of stares climb up the rungs one by one and suddenly the songs i've sung will bellow in through the wind and you'll wonder if there's time to find the reason within this rhyme
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32
The Lord is good talks to me in midday and afternoon The Lord is grand reconciles my soul has me in favor The Lord shines the light where darkness conveys to Majestic is the Lord's faith keeps my heart at check I sing to the Lord worship him morning and noon I trust the Lord fully, He keeps me alert too Has given me words of power lets rejoice in his name The cup of wisdom the crown of eternal life Entrusted in my hands spiritually given sight The words are the rhythm the poet God's hand he has given me wisdom and given me the sword Shall we worship his Kingdom, his name his Holy Word ...forever more ....forever more. Amen ©Franko the Christian Poet
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May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 7:47 PM UTC
The Lords Pastures
A man walks upon a line, A woman walks upon a line Crimson in the half light of the moon. He walks like a tightrope walker does, She walks like a tightrope walker does Each step, Precise and accurate, arms held out at 180 degrees. He wobbles here and there and, She wobbles here and there and, Holds his breath, Holds her breath Each time, But he is sure of his feet, But she is sure of her feet Because everytime he swings his left foot around Because everytime she swings her left foot around In a wide arc, Although the toes of his left leave the heel of his right, Although the toes of her left leave the heel of her right, It reconciles, heel to toe, Again. And again. And again. Such is the way of life, One man wobbling along the tightrope of existence. One woman wobbling along the tightrope of existence.
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Feb 20, 2018
Feb 20, 2018 at 1:54 PM UTC
Upon a tightrope we walk
It walks a dark and silent road, covered in blood and death. With every step it takes, it reconciles For nothing else is left. The being stops to question itself, is right or is it theft? The being gazes at the moon howling with each and every breath, hoping that something else is out there, yet there is nothing but distress and death.
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Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 9:53 PM UTC
Bloodstained
Perhaps, it is only to survive these treacherous days, contorting, amid our delicate time. To take what other form should we proceed, suffering always, while keeping meaning against this battle? Carrying faith forever through crisis, willingly alone, until hatred reconciles with peace. That Endurance shall be tested constant with our undoing, proving challenge to rest in our demise. Survive, survive if living is too great a task now, tonight we’ll pray Hope gives birth to Mercy.
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May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 12:32 AM UTC
Survive My Sweet
Victim of circumstances The past, she glances A mirror of nightmares she can't take The edges are unstable Standing on a table, mangled A bladed cycle never claimed Her feral heart breaks Her soul lays in a ash tray God has no shame She reconciles A chance for denial Her fire is fame Wiping her vane tears, announcing her fears with a smile
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May 24, 2018
May 24, 2018 at 10:01 PM UTC
Golden
The Sun that rises must set always, be it the Sun on Winter Solstice, or the Sun of Six Months in the Arctic. Nothing stays for ever. What rises from the Ocean must dissolve and return to Itself. Permeating your every moment, if you look closely, you will find, There is an Ocean underneath you and Everything, that ebbs and flows and eddies just the perfect way. The decisions and choices we make are No More than the little sways of our Hands just as we enjoy the force of the river in a Boat -opposing it, and aiding it. Both give us momentary satisfaction. The Longing stays. The Search for something deeper -Where the Joy is all-permeating and Peace is Everything, goes on. Maybe there the Ocean is Still, and the Treasures at the bottom shine through. The Mind reconciles with the Eternal.
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Aug 3, 2017
Aug 3, 2017 at 4:33 AM UTC
Shine Through
*Tonight the sea is still a moon hammocks on a tide in its peak on the coast reflected shadowy in balmy breeze a sentinel rain forest lays watch on tranquil bay Tonight come to your window savour sea spray in the air feast on the sounds of night and waves lapping upon the shore while pebbly tapping keeps time no sadness prevails in this symphony as the moon reconciles land and sea* ●○ °
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Nov 24, 2015
Nov 24, 2015 at 5:43 AM UTC
tonight we're free
Joy of God reaches out to the lost Joy of God reconciles the hurting Joy of God means there's hope for All nations seeking their way to Be free in the Lord Joy comes with rising of each day Spreading a hope for the day That the wonder and glory of God Will finds us and be our hope every day Joy is the source of our peace Walking in victory claiming the lead He is the wonder, the beauty and all That we need Joy of God reaches out everywhere BY: Leona Chaput
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Jun 2, 2016
Jun 2, 2016 at 4:40 PM UTC
Joy Of God