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"rejoice" poems
Doing a dance, to wear a mask, To play a game that you can’t stomach . . . Just so that the truth doesn’t have to face you, The way you recoil from reflections of yourself. You’d forsake your happiness, your health —                                                   You would burn it all. To do a dance, To wear a mask To play a game you’ll always lose.              To look in a mirror . . .              To tell an image, that it’s anything but you. And it is in that moment, that you'll find                            You’ll tell the unfamiliar truth As you bleed and feed Your own obliterated youth . . . To feel, and then                           to lose — Just like the loss you always knew                           You would find in disappointment. Like an unholy anointment                           of your least desirable possessions That retire from the heavens                           Back to you. To betray, and to amuse                                                           Alone. The ides of irony rejoice!                For they’ve found their lamb... or their ever-dying muse.                  Forsaking life itself, you clamor To see others just like you. And maybe, one day, one will choose            the path that you can’t leave, As it reciprocates to thee —             Two partners in misery, fated to excuse the waste of each other...             until they find there’s nothing left. To feel the flame within its breath consumed. Wearing a mask, To live a lie,                 And die a death,                 Whose dance you six-times misstep                               And on the seventh, betrays you. ​
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Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 7:46 AM UTC
The Way You Recoil from Reflections of Yourself
Doing a dance, to wear a mask, To play a game that you can’t stomach . . . Just so that the truth doesn’t have to face you, The way you recoil from reflections of yourself. You’d forsake your happiness, your health —                                                   You would burn it all. To do a dance, To wear a mask To play a game you’ll always lose.              To look in a mirror . . .              To tell an image, that it’s anything but you. And it is in that moment, that you'll find                            You’ll tell the unfamiliar truth As you bleed and feed Your own obliterated youth . . . To feel, and then                           to lose — Just like the loss you always knew                           You would find in disappointment. Like an unholy anointment                           of your least desirable possessions That retire from the heavens                           Back to you. To betray, and to amuse                                                           Alone. The ides of irony rejoice!                For they’ve found their lamb... or their ever-dying muse.                  Forsaking life itself, you clamor To see others just like you. And maybe, one day, one will choose            the path that you can’t leave, As it reciprocates to thee —             Two partners in misery, fated to excuse the waste of each other...             until they find there’s nothing left. To feel the flame within its breath consumed. Wearing a mask, To live a lie,                 And die a death,                 Whose dance you six-times misstep                               And on the seventh, betrays you. ​
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So many of us sit, think and still wonder, But have we ever gave ourselves the chance to ask? Well no! We just rejoice and find oursleves floating on cloud nine because "it is just another public holiday" So many of us have cherished this day, as a day of drinking, parting and being in the family way. Which "Us" am i refering to? Well it is the youth of South Africa, That can only sing "Freedom is coming tomorrow" very well without knowing the significance of that freedom and what it took for this freedom to come well let me take you back to the hands of time. In June 16, 1976 the mongoloid youth of South Africa marched down the streets of Soweto for this freedom we have today. BLOOD SHADE, SCREAMS, EXPLOIDING SOUNDS and the cries of faces without races filled the streets of Soweto. Parents feared for the lives of their children, but who knew that adolescents could be so brave? They stood together in unity, the same unity we lack today. Fought for what was right and that came with their African roots, which we nolonger honour today, they fought against the usage af Afrikaans as the main language of communication at schools. And look where it left us today. We have the Right to choice and the Freedom of association. And not forgeting that, they left us with the courage to say "WE ARE PROUDLY SOUTH AFRICANS"
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Jun 11, 2015
Jun 11, 2015 at 11:19 AM UTC
Youth day (June 16, 1976)
Do you mind if I sit back and observe the process of the lords creation the subject matter is miraculous the beauty is elegant perfect in every scence my baby girl you stole my heart such a thief ain't you, thinking about seductive things we do sinners ain't we, naughty deeds but the intentions is good it serves needs What pains me is that I have to let go to regrip your sparkling eyes again, got to move fast so quick that I don't miss the chance to clutch you in my arms again, heaven sent such a gift I cried when you was born I ain't even know you back then because, GOD made you for me I picked up your scent, I know from day one you was mine let us age old together bad and boujee like expensive fine wine, my kiss is possessive the beat of your heart is mine let that foreplay tingle down your spine, open wide going deep let me reach your soul ****** our achievement together it ain't *** it's love I love you girl no *** postion that can top this deposition let me show you its deeper than *** I'm still into you watch me shift working overtime full time love baby moan out affection go on say the name, our body hum harmony can feel this body heat that steamy love, open wide in deep that creamy love that dreamy love, its deeper than *** the agony an orgams of how our love make our body shiver, I love you, I love you! I rejoice I could say this a thousand times it's deeper than ***
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Aug 28, 2018
Aug 28, 2018 at 1:13 AM UTC
LUV × DEEPER THAN ***
I live in a forest of fallen sunflowers, old and wise, they speak to me of the days gone by When the sun sets among the wilderness blaze, they tell me night is befalling, and I must make my departure They tell of decades ago, how they’ve watched as humans lived their lives, most rotten in nature They spoke of the one that used to tend to them, how gracious and kind, how pure and warm For the sunflowers spoke with melancholy, for they knew that their former caretaker was well gone So for a moment they wept their tears of seeds, and sung soft melodies of their former caretaker They spoke to me and warned of the evils of humanity, how they were too once the victim of the evil They asked why humans destroyed what’s beautiful around them, why they wish to sabotage what keeps them breathing But they spoke to me and said I was a rare human, one that had good intention, and a sensitive heart As night began to fall, I left the forest of sunflowers, carrying their tearful seeds To spread as I walked away, to maybe rejoice and create life once more The forest I hope will remain tomorrow, that it stands the test of time
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May 16, 2015
May 16, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
The Forest of Sunflowers
#*Lord Jesus, Plower of my heart, though the darkness descends around me and heavy moods fall over me, though the warm feelings of intimacy begin to fade and encroaching melancholy threatens to set in like a cold reversal of the winds, still I will rejoice in Your presence with me, for You are causing me to press beyond— beyond the delightful sense of You and into the delightful assurance of You. If I know nothing else, I know that You are here, You are faithful and You love me. So I will keep clinging to that when everything else seems to slip like dust through my fingers and all hope of good things in this life grows dim. I will cling to the promise that You are clinging to me, that You’ve got me no matter what, that You are never leaving or letting go. For You are the unchanging I AM in my ever-changing circumstances, through my ever-shifting emotions, over my ever-shaking life and around my ever-feeble heart. Here is my hand, Lord Jesus. I put it safely in Yours and trust You to lead me through this dark night. Work Your holy, harrowing fingers deep into the soil of my heart until every idol is uprooted, every stone removed and every broken place restored. Thank You, Jesus. I love You.*#
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Aug 1, 2017
Aug 1, 2017 at 5:16 PM UTC
~ The Assurance ~
In Anaheim the ultimate celebration begins, People traveling from all over with fat grins Luke, Leia, 3PO, R2 Autographs, merchandise, cosplay too. Tattoos, nerd dating, panels and games Sea of Slave Leias and other costumed dames Everything you’ve ever wanted and more This is the place you’re looking for Fly solo, or come with family and friends Party like a Jedi until the festivities end From Lost to Disney, thank you JJ Star Wars is back in a big bad way Fans rejoice, happiness deep as a Sarlacc pit There’s been an awakening, can you feel it?
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Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 5:16 PM UTC
Star Wars Celebration 2015
A single dandelion seed could turn a desert into a beautiful garden, all it needs is someone to love it and look after it ~ Because the love of light is for all to bear, it is embracing, warm and gentle, life grows out of it to rejoice it's wonderful unique touch. Seeing the desert one should note, that light can be cruel and harsh, scorching in heat while only trying to do what's right, Leaving behind an almost lifeless part, it becomes the kiss of death, In the end you get lost, blinded the luminousity which was once a gift And by the night when it covers, you lost all fear of darkness, It already became part of what you were anyway, you didn't belong, Without turning your back you simply let the darkness consume you, Yet don't you see, that the nights somber appearance holds the glory of crystal starlight; a river of countless of them form the milky way, Perhaps you are but a blossoming flower, only blooming to the kindled brightness of tonights moon, dim, yet also filled with awe, The love of light is for all to bear, but don't overdose yourself with it, Otherwise, it will burn you up before it leaves you rotting. ~ Umi
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May 12, 2018
May 12, 2018 at 6:07 PM UTC
Love and Light
Sons of the soil. Daughters of the soil. Wake up and rejoice, for its the day of your heritage. Celebrate your culture, for it is your privilege. You are Africa, Africa is you. A nation so diverse and true. A real rainbow nation. Deeply rooted in our tradition. Nna ke mo Tswana, ebile ke motlotlo ka bo Tswana bame. Nna ke mo Pedi, ebile ka ikgantsha ka go nna mo Pedi. Mna ndi ngum Xhosa, ubona nje, ndiyazi dla ngo buXhosa bam. Mina ngi ngum Zulu qobo, futhi ngiyazi qhenya. On this day, remember who you are. On this day, commemorate who you are. Take pride in your true identity. Let there be peace and serenity. In South Africa our land. Together may we all stand. Le ga ole moTswana wa Afrika. Noba ungu m'Xhosa wase Afrika. Le ha ole mo Sotho wa Afrika Borwa. Are rataneng. Masi thandaneni. On this day, speak your mother tounge. On this day, sing your clan song. A moTswana eme a kgibe. UmXhosa maka phakame axhentse. UmZulu maka sukume agide. A moPedi a emelle bine. Sons of the soil. Daughters of the soil. Wake up and rejoice, for its the day of your heritage. Celebrate your culture, for it is your privilege.
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Sep 24, 2019
Sep 24, 2019 at 5:57 AM UTC
Happy Heritage Day South Africa
Yes, sir, I want you to spank me With that hand I know so well It is more than just five fingers It’s the reason I rebel Yes, sir, I want you to clank me In bonds of silver and gold Chained, I’m a precious gift to you Unwrapping me never gets old Yes, sir, I want you to yank me Down on the floor to my knees My gaze lowers at your command I’m eager to do as you please Yes, sir, I want you to flank me Punish me from every side I know I’ve been a naughty girl Needing discipline you’ll provide Yes, sir, I want you to crank me Up to writhing ecstasy Don’t stop ‘til I ******* beg you Your tough love is what sets me free Yes, sir, I want you to thank me For being your precious pet Even though I disobey you It’s clear you love to see me sweat Yes, sir, I want you to spank me With the implement of your choice Make it hurt to make me happy In your dominance I rejoice
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Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 12:32 AM UTC
Spank Me
My favorite # 1 Life experiences enhancer stress and pain reliever the magical psychotropic attributes it has makes me go loco. Cannabis Sativa/Indica or Hybrid I love it all...the only bud I won't smoke is "Reggies" that seedy nasty **** It gives me a headache. All other qualities strains and methods of ingesting or using marijuana welcome. The *** oil is so strong yet so dreamy and good. All around is excellent medicine and I will always remain to use it even after I quit my other habits. Makes people rejoice and come together happily with each other and commune and be kind to each other respectful to each other. That is what u love about cannabis. PotHead4 Life 4/20Friendly ©Franko the Christian Poet
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Aug 25, 2016
Aug 25, 2016 at 6:00 AM UTC
~~~Marijuana~~~
No accounting for taste. What you dislike and called a waste is what I like. You call cheese,honey I called it bitter pill. You prefer a monkey while chimp makes me chill. You like worshipping sun I love worshipping God It really fun you called mine odd. I lived in tradition You lived in modernity But in addition I lived in christianity. You urged me to study biology I urged you to learn Shakespeare You want me to live by astrology Let poetry be your spear. You prefer winter that is your choice Mine is summer when I'll rejoice. When you lay on your bunk, you hear the music,rock but I listen to punk who should be given a sock? You love a black lady with long dark hair I love a white baby to be my heir. You desire democracy as system of your government I desire theocracy it had the best management. Let us be a union Let there be chaste Let's tolerate each one's opinion for no accounting for taste.
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Oct 8, 2014
Oct 8, 2014 at 6:10 PM UTC
NO ACCOUNTING FOR TASTE
Thy voice is on the rolling air; I hear thee where the waters run; Thou standest in the rising sun, And in the setting thou art fair. What art thou then? I cannot guess; But tho' I seem in star and flower To feel thee some diffusive power, I do not therefore love thee less: My love involves the love before; My love is vaster passion now; Tho' mix'd with God and Nature thou, I seem to love thee more and more. Far off thou art, but ever nigh; I have thee still, and I rejoice; I prosper, circled with thy voice; I shall not lose thee tho' I die.
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14.9k
In Memoriam A. H. H. OBIIT MDCCCXXXIII: Part 130
After school hours, sleepily Looking down from the window sill A deep rest in spring wind chill If I close my eyes To this brilliant world Reflected scenery dances still If I blow a low whistle Towards the blue sky Walking becomes a little more spry Turning my music a little bit down To listen to the lively corner of town When I look up with slight rejoice I hear a distant singing voice Ah~ Ah~ Ah~ Today begins like any other day Bathed in the sun slowly drifting away The most pleasing place to reside Is here right by your side Dull clouds early afternoon A sudden shower in the middle of June Blue sky peeked out when I arose Colors arc out accross concrete meadows The bell chimes when I reach Out through the window and to the beach Warm breeze blows through the empty hall When I looked up I heard you call Ah~ Ah~ Ah~ Let’s rest into the sunshine Taking breaths in a comfortable rhyme We may not speak for very long Though with just that I feel so strong My quiet heart echoing true When I’m here with you
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Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 12:24 PM UTC
Listless
With parted lips she soundly rests As soft sound breaths flow steadily I rest my ear upon her breast Rejoice in her heart's melody
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Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 5:54 AM UTC
Moonlight
Wilderness their sight, her brown eyes contain the bright Universe -- she is a graceful phoenix in flight; Golems of the golden earth bow to this fire bird; Two fiery wings spread -- she is the light of the world, Prometheus's daughter, vanquisher of night: Withered grass resurrect and bloom do flowers burned Meaning rejoice! she comes with the warm dawn returned!
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Apr 15, 2014
Apr 15, 2014 at 7:58 PM UTC
Morning Glory
The King of Victory It was a Sunday not quite like any other. The time was near that Jesus would be handed over to the rulers of this world and be subject to them so that he might save many. On their way into the city of Jerusalem, Jesus sends two of his disciples ahead to bring him a donkey to ride in on and to say that the master has need of it. Jesus rides into the city on the back of a donkey and all around him celebrate and rejoice singing praise and giving glory. They lay their cloaks and palm branches which represent victory on the road ahead of Jesus for him to walk on. It truly is a joyous day in the city of David. No one there seems to have any idea that in one short week this parade of celebration would be no longer and many of these very same people would be parading him through these very same streets condemning him and calling for his death. Jesus your life came full circle. Before you came into this world you entered Bethlehem outside of Jerusalem riding on the back of a donkey in your mother’s womb. A week before your death you would humble yourself once more and come ride into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey. A humble beast of burden, an animal that carries a heavy load and serves. You bore the weight of the cross and the weight of all of our sins and you served us faithfully even when we were not faithful to you. We are so much like the crowds that gathered on Palm Sunday; rejoicing, singing your praise and giving you glory one moment and the next moment we are also the ones who are calling for your death, mocking you and jeering. Still, you look upon us with endless love and mercy. You forgive us, you redeem us, and you call us quietly to return to you once again. You would suffer and die so that on the third day, we might finally see that no power on earth or hell or anything above can separate us from your love, and showing us once and for all you are the King of Victory! AMEN!
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Apr 2, 2015
Apr 2, 2015 at 9:07 AM UTC
The King of Victory Meditation
The King of Victory It was a Sunday not quite like any other. The time was near that Jesus would be handed over to the rulers of this world and be subject to them so that he might save many. On their way into the city of Jerusalem, Jesus sends two of his disciples ahead to bring him a donkey to ride in on and to say that the master has need of it. Jesus rides into the city on the back of a donkey and all around him celebrate and rejoice singing praise and giving glory. They lay their cloaks and palm branches which represent victory on the road ahead of Jesus for him to walk on. It truly is a joyous day in the city of David. No one there seems to have any idea that in one short week this parade of celebration would be no longer and many of these very same people would be parading him through these very same streets condemning him and calling for his death. Jesus your life came full circle. Before you came into this world you entered Bethlehem outside of Jerusalem riding on the back of a donkey in your mother’s womb. A week before your death you would humble yourself once more and come ride into Jerusalem on the back of a donkey. A humble beast of burden, an animal that carries a heavy load and serves. You bore the weight of the cross and the weight of all of our sins and you served us faithfully even when we were not faithful to you. We are so much like the crowds that gathered on Palm Sunday; rejoicing, singing your praise and giving you glory one moment and the next moment we are also the ones who are calling for your death, mocking you and jeering. Still, you look upon us with endless love and mercy. You forgive us, you redeem us, and you call us quietly to return to you once again. You would suffer and die so that on the third day, we might finally see that no power on earth or hell or anything above can separate us from your love, and showing us once and for all you are the King of Victory! AMEN!
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he pushes me onto my knees                        our father who art in heaven i open my mouth for him                       lord, i want to recommit my life, my heart to you he holds my head in his hands and i take in all of him                      you alone are worthy of all honor and praise his eyes close and his head tilts back                     ***he will rejoice over you with gladness; he will quiet you                         by his love*** i can feel tears running down my cheeks and i look up and capture his eyes                    i saw the lord...lofty and exalted his mouth tilted into a grin                   ***make your face shine on your servant; save me in your                          steadfast love*** he pushes my head back and i come away with drool and tears dripping to the floor                  now the works of the flesh are evident i smile at him and my gaze demands his admiration                 for this is the love of god ~
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Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 3:59 AM UTC
my addiction was once my religion
On failures I rejoice pockmarks on the skin that is my being Beautiful reminders of my own mortality A slave to the Romans spoke: "You are not a god" Failures to me speak the same I am not a god I am above no one To failures I owe humility To failures I owe will To failures I owe life Because without them I might be everlasting
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Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 1:12 AM UTC
To Failures
Missing blissful memories, Cherished thoughts. Memories in webs, Tangled knots. Binding grievances Pave the way. Unfettered thoughts Have their own say. Moments felt, Moments understood. Times are past, Graveness its hood. Calm seas rejoice In silence. Storms are but Reasons to penance. Regret hopes to Unbind the will. Will’s infant cry To escape. Bewilderment stares With mouth agape. Confusions unfold In graves. Souls depart To hellish caves. Brevity speaks A thousand words. Wilderness stands On a million swords. Confused and petrified. Thoughts again To guide. A vicious circle So unholy. One committed To every folly.
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Jul 6, 2014
Jul 6, 2014 at 12:44 PM UTC
Thoughts !!!
Let the flow of wealth surround me Fill my heart with love and peace Let the energy more freely Flow through me and never cease Flow with vibrant love and wisdom Flow with all I ever need Flow with harmony and friendship Flow til I feel ever free Let the sounds of wealth keep ringing Let my words run clean and strong Let my cells rejoice in singing With this happy wealthy song Flow with vibrant love and wisdom Flow with all I ever need Flow with harmony and friendship Flow til I feel ever free Let the streams of wealth flow to me Let me share this flow with you Let my mind see ever clearly All the tasks which I can do Flow with vibrant love and wisdom Flow with all I ever need Flow with harmony and friendship Flow til I feel ever free Let the feel of wealth stay near me Give me confidence to dream Let me resonate so dearly With God's never ending stream Flow with vibrant love and wisdom Flow with all I ever need Flow with harmony and friendship Flow til I feel ever free Let the truth of wealth fulfill me As I seek the higher way Sharing love with friends and family Counting blessings every day Flow with vibrant love and wisdom Flow with all I ever need Flow with harmony and friendship Flow til I feel ever free
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Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 2:38 PM UTC
The Flow of Wealth (Prosperity Poem 25)
She, a cavernous champagne glass, he, a weary pony, who ate the neighbor's grass-- her name Ms. Wesson, his name Mr. Smith, they died on a slow Tuesday-- and stop looking Wesson clan, if looking for a lesson. Mid-afternoon midst a love bent 69 Mr. Smith and Ms. Wesson committed murder-suicide-- Mr. Smith turned from a man back into a stain, Ms. Wesson turned from a woman back into a chain. And the artist-in-neighborhood did rejoice, subject matter for a painting to hang above his licorice-colored memorial of a prisoner dove. And the police did gossip, was it love? was it *********** What a fine piece of *** that could be living. And it took the families two weeks to find out, they wiped their feet on dead leaves, daydreamt open caskets and planted juniper seeds. Talk of another woman, talk of another man, but God himself would tell you, they were simply bored of each other's drugs, they were simply bored of each other's barrels, so, they barred each other from being, and headed west on erosion's dime.
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Sep 9, 2012
Sep 9, 2012 at 8:31 PM UTC
oil paintings of ****** picnics
Arise! Oh Heart, from the catacombs of the dead Shake off the dust, for Life beckons you like a buddy Peel off the weariness that wraps you like a shroud And walk to the open to perceive the light. Arise! Oh Heart, from the dungeons of gloom The dawn is at your door step, waiting to break Sing with the koel, merrily warbling in the woods Dance with the billows, wildly prancing on the deep. Arise! Oh Heart, from the ghettoes of ******* Break loose the ropes that moor you to the past Dart through the panorama of the cerulean blue And fly high into regions, uncharted and new. Arise! Oh Heart, from the citadels of hate Listen not to the shrieking and howling behind Drink from the goblet of conciliating love And rejoice at the birth of a dawn with promises galore!
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Mar 2, 2018
Mar 2, 2018 at 8:28 AM UTC
Arise! Oh Heart