Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Karijinbba Sep 2022
🛸🪂👣💜💔🫖💛👑🎭🚕🏫🪂🛸
I feel like The time travelers wife.
I feel your glory in this place
In that field and forest my souls wanders seeking thee
Your promises keep you present in spirit I see you in every tree
In every beautiful treasure found
by my enemy and unearthed
I see all your love manifested
A lifetime as many before
SE siente tu Gloria en todo Lugar.
Something amazing has been happenening
Something sad has been wiped out, erased remembered no more.

All is forgiven as if nothing bad ever happened, vacated with prejudice.
Your glory is felt in every place I go.

All the supernatural is being re-activated
2*Twin oaks Blvd master bedroom parroted stain-
-curse is wiped out

oh Addonai Jireh is manifesting truth
The dream has blessed the
tree lovers are redeemed their innocence proven
Something supernatural is manifested here today
Shaddai, Rdd/JPC Elohim, Jireh
So I adore Yawhe and He too manifest
himself to me
If I call on to you too beloved Elohim You'll manifest yourself
in my speech, in my thoughts.
I've sought Rafa he is manifesting
I up to Jireh and
he becomes present

Yahweh I am part of him, Rddjpc-BbaAsg
He's a prayer in church to God
remembered as something very dear and precious
Our names are written in the book of life
Jaweh Jireh Addonai Rafa Shaddai
Manifest yourselves here and now, I love you.
~~~
By- Karijinbba
Bible inspired repost.
https://youtu.be/9sJbil2KK3U
brandon nagley Feb 2016
i.

Mine doting of thou,
Is not wilting amour;
Mine love is more
Then floating, outside
Thy door.

ii.

Even in mine woe,
And caging dolor;
I shouteth thy name,
"Sweet jane' mine girl.

iii.

Whilst even in mine
Suffering, and the
Battle I'm in; with
Satan and his lackey's,
I wilt step upon them.
With thy help, and God's
Discipline, Jane O' Jane,
I'll soareth to the highest
Apex, mine plume's to expand,
Wing's to stretch; Yahweh's mighty
Word, to push them back to the gates of death.

iv.

So mine Jane,
I telleth thou this;
I'm not losing amour,
Nor am I tenderness.
I'm in the stage, of trans-
Figuration, O' soon queen,
We shalt meet in blissfulness,
Beautiful apparition's. Ghost's of
Old, ancient soul's, we'll tasteth
Cascade's of mezmerdade; bralishas
Of barinthia, thitherward the province of
Ourn holy one, next to El Shaddai, meaning
Elohim, also Jehovah, mine Jane and honey-
Bee. Aside the Almighty's throne, And elevated
Seat, his son Jesus Christ on the right- garbed
In robes that floweth with the vim of life. As there
Shalt be none need for the sun or moon, the creator's
Ourn light. A place that's right, wherein there art none wrong's,
Ourn sin's art forgotten within the angelic song's, these song's wilt be sung, on a basis of eternity; none ending, just befriending of the saint's at God's feet. Wisdom shalt be deep, from the beginning of ages, none more false prophet's nor greedy men to ruin the nation's, Concord within ourn Lord shalt follow the month's, as Jane, mine swain, it wilt be in this time's happening;
It's still thee I shalt want. So hold on tightly, don't let loose of mine hand, we'll trounce these dark bearers, and pour holy oil upon their head's, None more wilt they torture us, as they'll flee instead, before of ourn Lord, Jesus Christ, the risen, the man, the son of God, ourn protection, whom hath arisen from the dead.



©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley dedicated ( Filipino rose)
Doting or dote- means adore- or adoring.
Wilting- as a leaf. Wilting away.
Dolor- means a state of great sorrow or distress.
Whilst- means while.
Lackey's or lackey is - servant or servants...
Wilt- also meaning archaic form ( will)....
Transfiguration- a complete change of form or appearance into a more beautiful or spiritual state. ( for me inward)
mezmerdade- is a word I created meaning- mesmerizing undying beauty.
bralishas- another word I made means- juicy lips.
barinthia- is a word I made up meaning ( bountiful or "abundant" era, or time.)
Thitherward also means thither- or to or toward a place.
Yahweh is a name for God in Hebrew form.
So is Elohim, and Jehovah.
El Shaddai- means God Almighty in Hebrew tongue. If you are confused why I use Hebrew names no I'm not Jewish if you know Christians we use same name for God as the ancient Hebrews -( Jews do) except most Jews don't except their own real Messiah Jesus like us Christians do . as the Jews should be doing.they've mocked Christ their own messiah from the beginning and will look for a false savior and messiah ( Antichrist as spoken in Revelation.) Though God loves his chosen Jewish people and wants them to return to him. As many will. Though many will be
Decieved by the son of perdition, the man of sin ( the Antichrist)..
Swain- means young lover...
Trounce means- .rebuke, conquer or punish severely.
Whom can tell,
why Life turns on a dime
why tears end up to dwell
in these eyes of mine?
Whom can tell-

Whom will care,
when you find yourself alone
and love leaves while only fear
seems to roam within your soul?
Whom will care-

Who will comfort you,
as these things become real
and these things ring true
as if its all your heart can feel?
Who will comfort you-

When none can be find
Lies creep up to only bind
Turn your eyes not blind
Silence not your mind-
Someone will show,
It just takes prayer and faith to know
His Life He gave up for your own
And He loves you eternally
His strength will lead you home
You wont face this alone.

His voice you will hear
Softly will fall on your ear,
And His touch will echo
Through out your soul:
His name is El Shaddai
And His Love will last forever.
You must not forget
He will paitintly wait
If you only ask.

He will tell
He will care
He will comfort you
When none will be find
All you He will keep,
His love never dies
And His name
is El Shaddai...
Natasha Ivory Aug 2015
In an instant, I’m back in that two-bedroom
apartment on Monte Park Ave, in old town Fair Oaks. Where family photos and live plants cluttered the already small space. It was a Monday night, February 13,2012, the day before Valentines Day, doing a routine visit to see my mama. The woman, who had birthed and loved me, as best as she could, with the tools life had equipped her with. This visit was different I could sense it. The moment I stepped foot onto that beige carpet and looked into her sunken green eyes. The cancer, cirrhosis and hepatitis C that had eaten at her liver the last two and a half years was coming to an end. My mother was a hardened woman, hardened by life. Crimes that had been committed against her and crimes she’d committed against herself continually ate at her. She was still able to shower an immense, unconditional love on us kids; in the days she was able to function, without the inevitable numbing. Those days didn’t last long, until she’d check out again.
As an adult the childhood ghosts of her past, were relived through her. So much to the point she allowed the destruction and pain to take ahold of her thoughts and entire being. The darkened corners of her life would begin to suffocate her.
As kids we’d often wake to her drunken blackouts after the town bars closed. She’d destroy the furniture in my home, demolishing anything within arms reach. Police would come often, we would hide…fearful…always fearful. She would sober up and check herself into rehab and do well for a while. We always hoped it would just one day end and she would be okay. The cycle just seemed to continue, for years, then decades. We would see fragments of her amazing personality, deep gentle heart and willingness to love hard and stay tough. Then it would be wiped away and knocked out of her when she’d run. Slowly, we lost pieces of her throughout the years.
My mom came to know a relationship with God in the last years of her life. I could sense a peace within her, but it was plain to see, she still carried regrets. Alcohol and drugs were her numbing medicine of choice to drown out the pain of the past. Even in her last days, she’d attempt to drink away the pain. I’d hold her feeble hands, sitting on her couch and pray with her. Pray for peace to finally consume her mind. Ever since I was a child, I had always felt like her mother. I wanted to save her, protect her, help her to see her worth in God.

It was just three months prior to her diagnosis, and I had found her cold and almost lifeless on her apartment floor. She had attempted suicide. It was late at night. I hadn’t heard from her in two days. I had that motherly gut wrenching feeling that something wasn’t right. Remembering the key I had to her apartment, I rushed out the door in only a bathrobe to check on her. I unlocked her front door; my heart hit the ground as I carefully turned the living room corner, to see her body, still, by the foot of her bed. In a numb haze, I checked her pulse and lifting her off the floor, I wailed and called on the name of Jesus, Jehovah Rapha – the God who heals, El – Shaddai – an almighty God. Peace flooded the room as I claimed this womans broken life and soul in his name. I laid her on her bed and held her, waiting for the ambulance to come. Those next four days in the hospital were torturous. As her body fought to rid itself of the toxins she’d consumed in an attempt to end the misery. Handcuffed to the hospital bed, I watched her sweat, cry and wail. I would pray. He’s here. He’s the healer. Even in that state God loved my mother, she was his child, even when she was most unlovable, he held her.

It is now, less than three years later, that I am watching her life slowly drain.
I can distinctly remember the aroma that I woke to, on Tuesday, February 14th, 2012. Having slept a horrid nights sleep, on my mothers’ living room floor the night before. I knew the end was near.
I would wake hourly to check on her, while she was asleep on her couch. Normally, she would take her meds every three hours. This night, she had slept more than ten straight hours. Drenched in sweat, she awoke. She called to me to help her to the bathroom. Her husband and I each held her arms and pulled her to her feet. Halfway to standing she began to hemorrhage blood. Gallons, literally gallons of blood spilled out of her. Her husband began to scream. We were never prepared for this. Never was hemorrhaging mentioned in all of the hospice nurse and doctors visits. Unable to call 911 due to the DNR (do not resuscitate) forms my mom signed. We slowly walked her to the bathroom. Blood poured out of her body in what seemed to be the longest walk ever, leaving a trail of what was left of her life down that hallway.
Expecting her to collapse, doing my doggone best to act calm as her husband cried and screamed frantically. We laid towels over the toilet and sat her down hoping to stop the hemorrhaging and call the hospice nurses to come to her home. Once I let go of the grip I had on my moms arm, I grabbed Drews face and ordered him to breathe and quit screaming. My mother sat, silent, she looked up at us, our hands and feet covered in blood, both frantically searching for the nurses numbers in our cell phones in a shaky mess. She quietly said, “please calm down”. I wrapped my arms around her, sitting there looking faint, expecting for her to hit the floor at any moment.
No child should ever have to see their mother bleed to death. I felt as though I was in a dream. Everything was hazy. Yet, God was there. I could only rely on his strength to keep me calm, to handle the situation, as Drew lost his mind and my mom was quickly losing life.
This couldn’t possibly be the end, I said to myself. Gently lifting her to her feet, we guided her down the remainder of the hall, to her bedroom; to the hospital bed she would spend her remaining days on. I stripped my mom of her blood-drenched clothing. Bathed and diapered her, as she had to me for many years as an infant. Those last days felt like an eternity. Going home to shower and take a short break from the death unfolding in front of my eyes, I was fearful she would slip away in my one-hour absence. I went to the store to buy my momma the last bouquet of roses I would ever give to her. I lit the candle next to her flowers. I played music, read and sang to her in those last hours. Massaged her hands and feet with lotion, as I’m sure she did to me as a baby. I prayed for her and over her. Watched her husbands’ heart break into a billion pieces, as he would walk around their apartment and cry. Still then, God was there.

“ With all lowliness and meekness, with long suffering, forbearing one another in love”.
Ephesians 4:2

Amidst the pain, the known regrets, fear and sadness, he’s the comforter. Not understanding why my eyes and heart had to burned with such tragic memories in watching her suffer, Gods peace lied there and he strengthens when we have none.

“ I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me”.
Phillipians 4:13

That final night, I had known. Sitting in the living room with one of my dearest friends Shawna and Drew,
I stood up “ we need to go check on her “ I said, as I stepped in her room, she was struggling to take her last breaths. Her husband ran to the far side of the bed and held onto her, wailing. I grabbed her hand and my friend grabbed mine.
She was fighting to breathe, her arms flailing.
I told her it was ok to go. To finally let go.
I fought to speak those words to her and to make them sound believable. Wishing she could just climb up off of that bed, healthy and smiling and hold me.
When she took her last breath. I watched her body lose its vibrancy. Shaken and strangled with anxiety, I threw up on the floor next to her bed. Having known the struggles and regrets this precious woman bore in her lifetime…and how at that moment…she’d have given anything to redo it.

“As far as the east is from the west, so far hath he removed our transgressions from us.”
Psalm 103:12

Do I know if my mother truly believed an all-consuming savior that died for us wholly loved her?
I don’t.
Do I have complete contentment that she passed with all the peace that God intended for us to have?
I don’t.

Which has led me to this. When the fateful day of my existence here on earth, ceases to watch another sunrise…what will my precious babies have to say of me?
I have nurtured every one of them; kissed chubby piggy toes and sang silly songs.
I, like many, have made heart-wrenching mistakes despite knowing Gods love for me.
All in an attempt to fill a God shaped whole in my heart.

“Those who rest in the shelter of the most high will find rest in the shadow of the almighty.”
Psalm 91:1

What will my beautiful daughters and handsome son be able to reflect upon, after my passing?
Perhaps this was his plan after all.

“It is good for me that I have been afflicted; that I might learn thy statutes”
Psalm 119:71

He is in fact the author.

“O Lord, thou hast searched me and known me. Thou knowest my downsitting and mine uprising, thou understandest my thought afar off”
Psalm 139:1-2

Every intricate detail of my life, from the gory to treacherous to beautiful and serene was written.
God gives first, second, third, fourth, fifth , sixth and beyond chances, just waiting for me to see who I am…in him.
In this short 30 years of my life, I’ve fallen short.
What matters, is the here, the now and the tomorrow.
Can I actually attain all of the attributes of the woman in Proverbs 31?

“Her children arise up and call her blessed; her husband also praiseth her”
Proverbs 31:28

Will my children be able to say this of me?
Will my sleepy eyed babies awake to drunken rages, as I did as a child…or a woman on her knees in prayer at suns rising?
I will strive daily, hourly, minute by minute to fight back the rising of my flesh, any hateful words that might ******* and distractions from what life is really created for…all on my knees before a God whose love consumes.

“Trust in the Lord with all thine heart; and lean not unto thine own understanding
In all thy ways acknowledge him, and he shall direct thy paths.”
Proverbs 3:5-6
Copyright © Natasha Ivory Evans 2012
Moon settles. Falling a sleep starring at a candle. Improving my mental compass I struggle with a strong subconscious the truth is you can't be a 100% percent honest.   What shall I say to you?

The plateaus I've built , the cave's exit I've paved for you.  Colorful lights change you. (Too quick)

The darkness is comfort. It makes it easier to think.

Levels from understanding to overstanding,

now I'm ULTRA STANDING.  My seven cannot sink.  Darkness is the ken of peace.  

Light confuses us but you don't give two *****....             well maybe three.
Phil Riles Feb 2016
My spirit wants to do right, but the flesh is unwilling to comply. That's why it must die. Daily. Crucified. All the affections and lusts, crushed with the weight of his Spirit hear to comfort mine own until this mind disownes every thought that exalts itself against the one on the Throne. Adonai, El Shaddai, Elohim, thou most High, Prince of peace, never cease, to amaze, the Blood connected to the earth and awoke men out of graves/I refuse to be sinfully enslaved, hiding in dens and cavs like the ones his goodness tried to save...I understand you Paul, you did what you didn't want to and didn't do what you should have did, yet the Master forgives. I wanna live burden free, no hurt in me, I don't want to subconsciously hold on to the flair of dramatics, rejecting a life lived peacefully while repetitious requests prayed vainfully asking God to take the pain away yet rejecting his orders so the pain can stay. In a twisted way, some people depend on there own misery, no matter how much they complain about it. Because its either what they know best or all they know, and familiarity can be a mental, emotional and spiritual ******* that most...can't let go...well Lord im willing. I'm willing to let go of the past that you already have a long time ago. I'm willing to see myself through your eyes. I'm willing to allow you to turn this anger into joy, this easy irritability into long suffering, this pride into honor, false humility into the one we clothe in..im willing to allow all the pain the sting of rejection gave me over the years, to place shamelessly in your healing hands, im willing to give you the violin, that I've used to play the songs for every pity party thrown within, Upon personal request, while partly oblivious, to the world around me is dying in sin. Lord, continue to help me locate the man I was always suppose to be. Reveal him to me. Describe him to me. Develop me into him. He's been waiting for my embrace for too long. And I'm ready..to put away Childish things..
I H Σ
IHS HOMILIA

In the natural fatigue of everything created, the Duoverse presented its IHΣ, falling on the eighteenth letter of the Greek alphabet and on the duo hundred changes in physical memory. The PH (Hexagonal Primogenitor), is conceived in the presence of the Chrismon, but Hellenic with the Vexillum banner, to rescind the fatigued and depressed winds, since the quantum of memory was lost in its integrity of aerophobic to the earth, and therefore the subsequent one would be air-water, being for this reason, preceded the ceremonial that begins by stripping before the abenuz Diospyros, with its stamens usually in sixteen plus its hypogines or inserts at the base of the corolla; like those of the female flowers, being part of the gynoecium of the Tsambikas part, and of the androecium that will have to be of the Diospyros in Theoskepasti; with ovaries generally tetra ocular adapted, to be inseminated for the raids of the demigods of the Horcondising and El Duoverso, with the monogram HDD (Horcondising-Duoverso), for those who trace the bifurcations with Zefián; chaos computer, all the way to modulated Theoskepasti. Making the changes that have to be reborn in the stamen, being almost sterile, aborting in the memories of Galilee, signifying the pollination performance of the Diospyros and sprouting in the same stem of the whorl, even more in each hand of stigmatized Vernarth and Etréstles , bearing the IHS candles, the monogram and the Mandylion-Vas Auric, as a sign of the Olives Bern. Before the seams of the carved heels are erected and the one of the gutters of the annelids going up through the alabaster, to the chalice with the chrismon hat.

Filling the warehouse of Anemoi himself, and forgetting his deposit of the empyrean breath on the synaptic abbreviations, the argument of Saint John the Apostle continues in the network of Rhodes and Kímolos, for the cortex of the sensory past and the consequence of the gusts of falls by the trisomies, affecting to be regenerated on the oxygen-nitrogenous bases, from the activation of nemo-genetics, to specify the loss and egregious gain of channeling between the Cyclades and the Dodecanese. Carrying memories of Vernarth's cerebellum stuck and not trembling towards the lake of the hippocampus, where the Zoroaster carried the Magi, at the end of the span and first-last border in the vicinity of Ein Karem. On the evolutionary scale the weak air masses fluctuated, in the flood of the Meltemi over the Aegean, taking them to the bay of Dekas, on the knees of the colossus that impregnated with its fennels so that some delirium could replace its articulation. Remaining like this, on a scale of emptiness reminiscent and tacit ..., it continues to be and not, occupying itself and not, but it does rise towards the colossus from the ground of Vernarth, which had split bipartite from Rhodes to kímolos, like Verthian neuroscience, whose prose they emanate submissive glaciers of Intuitive Hypermeditation (as a technique of knowledge and meditation, for functional links of inspiration, purgative insight and yogic memory). All the nonsense is alluded to, breaking the rationality of the Vas Auric ceremonial, in its phenomenology, making curvilinear pauses to re-captivate phraseological keys, diminished in condensed memories equivalent to approximately ten terabytes, from a homologous half, almost surrendering when exhausted before both scholars and their debts exchanged when driving ..., thus recovering wave dips before reaching the bay of Dekas, Kímolos and ending in the necropolis of Hellenika ..., and vice versa before re-climbing in the middle of Mandraki, Archangelos and Filerimos, to finish in Tsambika, Rhodes.  As a parallel response to the archpriest of not altering the  IHS homily monogram, and of the association in remembrance, which may affect the conduction of the mediumistic trance, almost prostrating him in the house of forgetfulness and frenzy, if he is to recover not stabilized. The sulfurous and mercurous component of Cinnabar proceeded by acidifying the essences of Vas Auric, already prospering in the hands of each auric conductor ..., Archpriest and Saint John the Apostle, each with the sulfur from the mountain and the arc of the Aegean Sea, as genesis volcanic for its diametrals towards a change of chemical prisms, to the multi-angle of the topaz that Saint John the Apostle wore in his air, close to the reliquary, hanging from some fringes of the Vexillum, that he had arranged near the Vernarth. Immediately on the banks of the monastery, Raeder was walking with a lantern looking for those who might try to enter, he believed that it was his father from Kalymnos, the ones who came on another mission, to be carried away by the energizing power of cinnabar, more than a breath for those who observe by the quarters, stationed in the sandy areas of Rodas.  Petrobus, the pelican…, circled around the heights of the monastery, delimiting the laxity of his body's memory, in prayers in case they ventured through Kalimnos for a good portent, in waters for the tenth seeds for all the Rodines.

From the monastery with one of its necessary dependencies, all were with exacerbated white candles between the steps of each cell and their attached friars, they made a room of the nave near the church on the hexagonal floor, this being screened through the center of the garden where everything was dominated by the limits of the alabaster arches, which only now pointed to the closet of the books, this time being fed up and sparing their voices with devotion. Chapter by chapter it expired ..., for each cell, identifying each portion of the world in creation to the scriptorium and the refectory, where in this ceremony books were swallowed for the infinite world of the Duoverso, near the parlor, to do the times when He was teaching Saint George and the Dragon, vinegar the presses for the wine of the missal. Even so, Eurydice, organized the fragrances of the cells and intermediations of the southern called in the voices of Proserpina, coming dressed in proclaimed black, but with the appearance of Persephone in reality wedged into her face as a goddess woman, but with a hemiplegic collapse.

Sequence shot at Kímolos, Panagia Theoskepasti

Etréstles says: “according to what has been said in this dimension, the word will be the world of the Duoverso. Synchronously, it lined up with the monastery in Tsambika, by the third hour after noon, reflecting off the undisclosed walls of the chapel. On if,  in the radiosities of cinnabar. Thus entering electromagnetic lassitude through the trusses of the pulpit anchored in the Vox of the mystical vortex, towards those who entered and left thousands of times through the counter shutters of the chapel, colliding and colliding many times, until by the iridescent Cinnabar, somewhat Sulfur rial, mixed with the radiosities of some novae, which also acted as a decoy of the chrismon, which Kanti carried the steed adjusted in the saddle on his back, as a mount of syntactic esotericism, speaking of intangible brown colors of cinnabar, almost human. I know that the scrolls will write themselves, and that no word will have to be written or pressed by a mortal who protects it, the Diospyros, will exert anticipated redemption from the imbalance of the proximity of the Universe that slowly fell on Greece, while in the hegemony of the abenuz, everything looked with its graceful synchronous stamens that were usually sixteen, plus its hypogines or inserts at the base of the corolla; that attracted the essences of the Androecium with ovaries generally tetra ocular adapted, but according to the word Ebreh Ke Dabra, for those who carry it under a state of extended ******* and under a possession of psychopathies, to delegate them in non-demonized existences, if not emerging from the syntax of the verb, close to the intellect that works for the grace of the subsequent. In this way, all demonization would remain in the distractions of the annelids, who travel the coast of Kimolos, from Dekas to Hellenika, where they will finish the alternation of the gifts of the Vas Auric, teleporting in the vessels; or vehicles rolled to the chapel, to later be forwarded to the necropolis.

At three o'clock, after midnight in its antipode of noon, the psalms will shield with the wings of Petrobus all the government of Theoskepasti, and with its golden, feathers ..., and the heraldry of Vernarth with its Aspis Koilé, lavishing it in those of Saint John the Apostle, in the Shaddai that acts as a temple, towards the lower funnel of the Hetairoi, confined to the elect devotion of being protected towards the gates of the Savior, in lands of sand removed over the naked and reddish bodies of Archangelos and of Psathi with mega gallons of papyrus, falling like the blooming chrysalis of Diospyros on the litanies of the archpriest, who was interrupted in his syntactic diction, when permeating the sequence shot Cyclades-Dodecanese, Tsambika-Theoskepasti, Anemoi-Meltemi, Vernarth- Etréstles , low the Vexillum or mercenary banner of the Peltasts that in legions gathered to assist together with Vernarth in both chapels for the chalices of the fish that welcomes the dead in battles and takes him from his nets and enables him with his gills…; "Tel Gomel, Gaugamela and the Gordian knot in the hands of Saint George and the Dragon"

In the aftermath of the memory loss of Vernarth's body, he already had his chest full of Cyclops, St. George appearing to venerate his litany and wide pain, common to the one who, even in that state, can sustain the world like Atlas, but like Epimetheus of afterthought. Being triumphant in his imaginography, appearing with the snowy horse, in total synchronization at the moment in which he is seen appreciating Etréstles, on the bulbous clouds that enveloped the chapel, and haughty and shrewd the knight Saint George of Anatolia, Roman and Christian was seen . With his mother; Polychrome, having already been trained here in the town of his mother's origin, in Lydda, he was trained as a military tribune knight, and was later appointed as a Diocesan personal guard.
Vexillum
Muse Dec 2013
Elohim have you forgotten the prayers of your people
Avinu what happened to those praying under your steeple
El Shaddai did you leave them to hang from the rope
Adonai did you care that the bullets their only hope
If you're almighty give them the strength to stand
If you're all knowing see their pain and lend a hand
Is saving a life stealing free will in the eyes of the lord
Can you not speak as you did to Moses and lend kind words
Names used in the Hebrew languages generally to refer to different aspects of God Elohim-God plural form Avinu-Our father El Shaddai-God Almighty Adonai-Master
Disney destroyed maternal worries with furnace asphyxiants of gas,
proving that lungs full of carbon monoxide fumes ain't going to last
to see '39 as '38 wafted by in a whiff of monoxidized demise so fast
for those who cartoonize the near-future, animate God's distant past
so as to demand that Rabbi Shimon's Apocalypse tribes be amassed
to pike the head of Charlie Watts as El Shaddai can never be sassed
My soul prospers, regardless of my financial state;
my blessings come from God; upon Him, I willingly wait.

Constantly meditating on The Word, gives me peace,
since I recognize… that the Lord’s promises never cease.

When perceiving what issues are really important,
insures that I remain happy and thoroughly content.

El Shaddai, my God, of more than enough,
has nothing to do with me having more stuff.

Jehovah meets all of my needs abundantly,
especially when I honestly open my eyes and see…

that He continues to love me unconditionally!
And it’s my privilege, to trust Him completely.

My faith is far from a fake and fanciful whim,
seeing that my spirit is in alignment with Him.

With divine access to the “mind of Christ”,
I’m reenergized to appreciate His eternal life.

Although common events of life are not inevitable,
my approach will always remain… emotionally stable.
Author Notes:

Loosely based on:
John 14:27; 3 John 1:2; Phil 4:13

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
My debt bubble has been de-leveraged & I'll fight with guns plastic
'cause in my life defensive maneuvers have been necessarily drastic
when my crooked, fist-fightin' limbs distend Michael J. Fox spastic
Hurry pops the time for peace has degraded into a campaign drastic
as it's off to Wales where Woody, Keef & Charlie have gassed ****
like Churchill planned for Bonn as he thunk toxic gas was fantastic
& normal like switching toothpaste with a gummy resin tree mastic
that's tacky enough to entrap a brown flea but not a ******, fast tick
on Hillary Clinton's saddle-sore ***'s ****-itchy crack iconoclastic
that forces epidemical ****-casting directresses to brutally cast sick
& crippled X-muffers in dramas that are heterophobic & bombastic
& contra-contrary to the T.N.T. needed to nucleate *** & blast hick
to decree '64 as bein' the year of producer Loke Wan Tho's last flick
I am stirred by murmurs of kittens that have daily purred but my fat
cats never bought never sold never used a toilet never spoke a word
as hairy cats are ecstatic to lick hanging parts that are thickly furred
& drenched in muco-pus, river mud, alkaline residue or mouse ****
that's added for spice with green duck gut, snake nose & rotted bird
to commonize felinicidal fare in stitch with farmerettes heatin' curd
to nourish ol' Jimmy Carter robotoid #14 whose death was deferred
to push puppet Lin Forbes Burnham as David Rockefeller preferred
makes recipes valid for McDonald's grinding men into meat absurd
& the cries of ***** smashing periodic squeals into groans unheard
by moon-friendly babes whose quims rest salmon-pink & uninjured
in aspections physico-social via spirographical methods unpictured
regarding cotomaster vulgaris or second-place placers placing third
with ears & belly buttons clogged by **** & blood-shot eyes blurred
Oh **** Kiki Ebsen, let's love forever the dead Larry, Moe & Curly
& their lower Australian counterparts: the scuzzy Fairy, ** & Girly
who gulp milk with hens' eggs knowing that not 1 dairy foe is burly
as I wanna see H.P.V. vaccine-pricking-swine Rick Perry goin' surly
like Squiggy might've on Garry Marshall's show Laverne & Shirley
starring Cindy Williams & Penny Marshall whose teeth ain't pearly,
& who in heels & padded bra passes as the twin of Jo Anne Worley
in 1963 when cream was in glass bottles & menopause started early
enough for Lee Oswald before The Eye Shadows backed Merle Lee
Disney destroyed maternal worries with furnace asphyxiants of gas,
proving that lungs full of carbon monoxide fumes ain't going to last
to see '39 as '38 wafted by in a whiff of monoxidized demise so fast
for those who cartoonize the near-future, animate God's distant past
so as to demand that Rabbi Shimon's Apocalypse tribes be amassed
to pike the head of Charlie Watts as El Shaddai can never be sassed
before a Satanical/congregational flock of U.S.'s pornocratical cast
conjuring underneath a devilishly-****** act's pornographical blast
framed as merry mix-ups the queerest of collusions that flabbergast
regardless of America's oldest race-baitin' ******'s homosexual past
as a Georgia state assembly guy whom toothless ****** outclassed
Whilst masonical N.A.S.A. creates super-speed planets between us,
nobody cares that our 500,000 mile-per-hour sun is paced by Venus
in aether squattin' like California smog in a stab wound of bean pus
that'll render mucho mas gorier the spit-stained walls of a clean bus
driven off the Sunshine Skyway Bridge by a *****-lovin' mean cuss
who aped a weakling diving from tin panels pitched via a lean truss
that constricts **** lard into prime cream corn to make a queen fuss
The costumes of the Gestapo & American cops are black not 'cause
I like hanging out with lynch mobs & ******* ****** in my shack
& writing Bible corollaries after rammin' enemas up my ****** tract
in repugnance to ***-wipe Zbigniew Brzezinski of the Warsaw Pact
as it is Russia's Crimean annexation of 2014 that he's denied as fact
I curl these 10 toes under so they don't get, by a machete, hacked &
I don't date angry Mafia assassins so as to keep from bein' whacked
whilst the pardoning integrity of demi-god mafiosos governs intact,
as sanctity is conferred knowing which cops by the mob are backed
through underworld graft to ensure pig police are doggedly tracked,
framed, extorted, beat up, spiritually broken & emotionally cracked
haunting dank alleys with the hapless citizens they had blackjacked
whose id acuity gave sway to id injury that caused 'em to be sacked
by politicians placed in places as these are places a mob has hacked
with paid-pain-placebo politicos la cosa nostra has placidly backed
& licked, tucked, hocked, blacked, ticked, socked, cocked & tacked
or redacted, corrected, misdirected, uncooked, rooked & shellacked
plus heckled, freckled, prickled, pickled, trickled, kicked & stacked
Las lebianas de T.V. sexcite & thrill as no low caliber gun ever will
on the battlefields of Vietnam where John Kerry liked to run & ****,
before porkin' John Heinz's Satanical widow in a billion-dollar deal
He couldn't kick his habit each mornin' of taking a birth-control pill
or attending parties of talk-show-maggot Donahue to cop a free feel
after crappin' into pizza boxes to implement Lucifer's masonic weal
I forget not from which side my ****, neck-breaking horse I mount:
hormones coursing, **** strap is tight! What in hell am I on about?
I swoon in love, dance over matches, feel *****, steadily lose count
Her cane, her walker, her wheel chair & support hose, quack-quack,
only prove what gigolos have always known, wealthy hags kick ***
in post-menopausal slump on cruise ships ******* apes for a laugh
up my you-know-what that is a big outlet 25 inches north of my calf
whilst allopathic veterinary cat medicine increases misery @ % 7½
because me no understand a tiny bit God's need for famine & wrath
against dullards whose algebra is more mathematic than basic math
that lets me hog-call the glossy-white pig Kathie Lee Gifford: Kath'
after she aborted 3 kiddies under the bridge on the coat hanger path
Many thrillin' Christian facts have just come to light with a colorful
computer-generated face of Lord Jesus, thank God He is very white
so that we may crucify the black Jesus theory without a ****** fight
that'd be the death-kiss for chimps chimping ghetto-ebonics at night
I care for you like a foreign **** with lots of cars in his huge car lot
I know that kitty-soft quims like yours ain't never wholesale bought
I just want to part your pink ******* in bed or on any army cot
I wanna probe the core of your womanhood like your mama taught:
Cousin Jethro, Uncle Jed, André from U.P.S. & that ****** she shot
in cop-crazed self defense as she feared for her personal safety a lot
'cause her husband had to **** Iraqi children in Iraq where he fought
toilet-strain that queered his insane brain giving him queer-brain rot
that bruised his belly button, above primal glands, with a blood clot
big enough to slow Chris Reeve's gallopin' horse to a paralyzed trot
that'd split the greasy 3 hairs on the cue ball of governor Rick Scott
who's a leg-shaving maniac, less frigidly warm than moderately hot
when he enjoys vein-popping-**** straining on his golden **** ***
where-from he farts that it's legal Agenda 21's new-world-order plot
Love me wet, like you loved ****** loving freak Jacques Cousteau
who drowned 350,000 Unitarians via Aqua-Lung, Don't'cha know?
Ah Satan sees Natasha while she'll step on no pets to see juice flow
along direct paths between points A & B, as would fly a sober crow
34 minutes late for an egg-layin' contest & house-cat-skinning show
that we bird-lovin' farts must look up to the sky from hot hell below
where evaporated diarrhea fills Carnation milk cans in a ****** flow
over irradiated breakfast cereal that radiates a healthful, green glow
that'll thaw **** ice & hypothermic ***** on banana cones of snow
I'm better off than dead, not better often dead, Totie Fields, you liar
I won't skate to Ohio whilst my **** is on fire with ****-love desire
Excuse me while I limp to hell, as my leg was pared just after a fire
that makes me hobble to hell after cooking in Gandhi's funeral pyre
The sweet nectar of rector Hector of the Catholic sector gives sway
to conjecture in the Protestant vector as his carotid artery neck tore
The new nectar of Hector rector of the Catholic sector gave sway to
conjecture with an elector of vector 7 as his carotid artery neck tore
As his carotid artery neck tore, a new nectar of rector Hector de the
Catholic sector gave sway to conjecture with an elector of X vector
As his real pecks & neck tore, black neck tar of rector Hector of the
Catholical sector prefecture shot a letcher, a selector & an inspector
With specks of neck gore, the tarry sect tar of trekked-for Hector of
papal facture could catch more than lure ***** ***** on a tech floor
This violent gothical life moved me into a filthy hermit's hut where
it keeps my ***** mouth shut, the limited movement in my left nut
This stupefyin' gothical life dug me into a buried hermit's rut where
it's kept my ***** mouth shut, the poor functionality of my left nut
has kept 666 donkey gobs shut, the campy dysfunctions of a walnut
It's kept my ***** mouth shut, the bad functionality of my hind gut
It keeps my ***** mouth shut, the limited movement in my left nut
It slams my ***** mouth shut, the fun moments of my lard-*** ****
Your pocked *** are 2 flabby people I haven't wanted to meet again
while I'm busy in bee-stung-hive land eating carp bowel & shark fin

DON'T TOUCH MY *** BECAUSE I'M A LESBIAN FOREVER
& ever & no man'll change it because, ****-wise, I'm lesbian-clever
I'll block you soon forever & blacken your eyes & hide your toupée
because I hate you more queerly than prissy Obama hates being gay
with Michael, as he expresses himself better durin' lactation classes
among the hammer-happy Hillary crowd & Bill's ****-****** *****  
that only worsen clownish ***** dunked by red-sock-ducked passes
through to the prostate in lucky, ancient Hugh Hefner ****** sasses
Eddie Money, Johnny Paycheck & Johnny Cash in 32 papal masses
Lord God, let us gaily promote family-oriented regional voter fraud
for a shiksa of the Red Sea whose **** & *** push a solid boater ***
I cocked hitchings to my petcock like a whinin' Alfred Hitchcock in
anticipation of 18 quacked ribs via unpatented Owl **** ***** Sock
as sinus infections purpled nasal-mucopus excreta into an itch pock
Let me scratch your lard *** in peace, a piece of ***, girly hot ridge,
on the farm with lazy Keith, smart-aleck Danny & Shirley Partridge
who refuses to follow hygienical protocols including hand sanitizer
as your glad, toothless Kentuckian chews via a manned-clan incisor
On blood-drenched sheets you scarf Jiff extra crunchy peanut butter forever & want me to love you for it after hurlin' chunky in a gutter
But I got more complex self-respect than blind respect that's simple
for your cheese-spewing-mucopus-heavy-acne-cystical *** pimple
that made Walker McDonald chuck his walker for a steel gimp pole
so that he could pole vault over Bruce Jenner's scrod & shrimp stall
Deeply from the cockpit of my ******'s messy shore I proclaim that
this itchy crack is a filthy treasure by my big ****** ****'s measure
'cause from it venereal-diseased Johns derive lots of carnal pleasure
until their ureters swell shut & good currents of ***** ain't ****-sure
fewer than 6 inches from the **** uretero-pelvic junction's fist core
where M.L.K., junior scratched deeply his pustulating ****** fissure
Shut up hard-*** **** I can buy & sell you whenever I ******* want
Sit there whilst I pray for guidance or I'll kick you for your defiance
Hi, my name's Kandy and I work in a cat house with mucho ******
who are girlfriends of mine plagued by ulcerative, syphilitical sores
made weepy by salts of the briny deep below Jacmel's ocean shores
Insane James Whitmore claims grit poor as he blames **** for what
shames *** sore after eating fried porridge that defied proper storage
Wherever condominiums are posh the battle is delirium vs.delusion
that illustratively eliminates an elusively-shrill illusion of a colossal
cerebral cortex calamity countering cranial, ****-clinching contusion
The gay estrogen king kept his **** well with agents anthelmintical
till he was killed by the girly estrogen king with pills antiparasitical
Algeria, Algeria, I despise you worser than **** films from Nigeria
made by queer-bait crotch crickets afflicted with advanced progeria
that they got from white-phosphorus-bombed kids of peaceful Syria
where Moslemical love thaws the icy hearts of ******* from Siberia
who ran over the Caucasus via Spain's Portuguese peninsula, Iberia
I'm doubly excited about Intact ******* Day I think I am I am sure,
'cause I got a dark cookie doll in raunchy eastern Mexico to live for
which's why the suicidal jump of Evelyn McHale was not vehicular
in traffic flow manual guides, as the crashed car was her stone floor
Commanding Lieutenant William Bligh was the victim of cowardly
mutiny by Acting Lieutenant Fletcher Christian, two years after His
Majesty's Armed Vessel Bounty did sail, 'cause sweaty-palmed freak
Fletch Christian snagged his mutinous, ripped ****** on a bent nail
Don't let's not, not let's don't count on doubt, unsounded into Jersey
where stinking **** #26 is officiously & officially known as **** Z
who'll scrape, bow, prostrate like a girl whose knees shake in curtsy
who'll scrape & prostrate like a lesbian whose **** shakes in curtsy
Look Santa Claus, my purpled *****' knobs are Christ-like & sharp
like push buttons of a dead angel's gaily-strummed, gay-baited harp
Wing Chun my *** up the center line & I'll hide beneath a tarp after
I call first dibs from a toilet, dharma & karma & catfishes kiss carp
I call first dibs from a toilet, dharma & karma & catfish kisses carp
I call first dibs on the toilet! It's daffy dharma over karma or vicky-
verky. Wing Chun my *** up the center line where jerks chaw jerky
I sank to the bottom of your love bucket like mice winning at bingo
for being ******* to cherry wood while houndin' a kid-killin' dingo
Your clingy love has done much to set me free since you lopped off
2 of your straight front limbs to become a crippled, double amputee
during a Jesus-dead Christmas like I don't like it in an ulcerated sea
under the current of a skinny, barbiturated Johnny Cash over for tea
as calculated gastrical absorption rates rate as constants minus a fee
that transmogrifies my sleek, **** **** into the bulbous *** of a bee
what pendulates & undulates below the bend of my lonely left knee
in relation to fly-papered catch-alls & bug zappers in my family tree
where 1 ape wrangler wrangles triangular angles, bangles, spangles
for Christmas like I don't like it because my ******* on ice dangles
whilst fearin' for Winston Smith as to when caged rats/mice fangs'll
avulse eyes & gnaw on his tongue, before weaving nests in his lung
that shall really make it tricky to sing sing-songs he ain't never sung
that'll make it hard to gaily sing sing-songs he ain't never gaily sung
Merry Christmas nice Santa Claus, happy birthday & prepare to die
'cause when it comes to murdering fat men, I'm not the least bit shy
around dippy/daffy ***** too dried out to give it that old college try
outside college because I am the same age while they are a lot older
with bruised head, dented instep, hammer toe & arthritical shoulder
that goes up when I slip down a hill that's got many a loose boulder
to crush Miss Austria even though I once angrily warned & told her
of what's in for tall chicks runnin' ledges in acts dangerously bolder
for beauty queens long in the tooth & **** babes significantly older
whose hottest movements render homely ***** withdrawn & colder
than the homosexy boy-toy lover of Obama pickaninny Eric Holder
from whom I've hid in 32 Kenyan files a blatantly-fraudulent folder
of cheery, cherry Christ Masses reamin' the beheld's queer beholder
Holy, Holy, Holy are you EL SHADDAI.
To be blessed is to seek a deeper,
interwoven understanding of your sovereignty,
of your abundant love, and your magnificent
GRACE.
Your words, the word of ELOHIM,
brings purpose into the full view
of your unyielding power.
To walk amongst the descriptions
of your word is a comprehension
of just how lost we are in your sight,
through ours.
To know in my soul the perpetual fire
of your altar; to hear the cries
of sacrificial animals, to have my nostrils
fill with the aroma pleasing to you.
To rationalize what now seems
barbaric, done only through the
infinite wisdom of your PROVIDENCE.
Your thoughts can only be evaluated,
imprinted on our hearts if the
intention is yours.
As I visually articulate the painstaking
sacrifice of man,
I am humbled falling at your feet
sobbing;
for what your beautiful perfect SON
endured through your eyes.
What i am is nothing,
you are the great I AM,
pleased only by our hunger for
every word that comes forth from your mouth,
our thirst for YASHUA'S immaculate
wisdom, his perfect TRUTHS.
I close my eyes, and present
myself at the entrance to your Temple of meeting,
as a sacrifice meant only for your
dealings.
Use me my ABBA, my ELOHIM for your
infinite GLORY,
to bring the perpetual fire of
YASHUA'S sacrifice, the unquenchable
observance, for any who know
repentance.
As every piece of acacia wood was placed
so too my bones,
every artifact, my muscles.
Crafted to make your new covenant
a dwelling place, a new Temple.
Good in your sight, so I know now
who has laid my foundations,
who has constructed me.
To be a doer of your calling,
yearning to be good in your sight,
the sight of EL SHADDAI, my ELOHIM.
In the power filled name of
YASHUA Ha'MASHIACH I praise you
YAHWEH, amen!
Vile a sinner as I
The hearing and my trial
Alone I am condemned

I killed a man
I sent him to his death
I shouted a shout to end his life

Buried him in dirt
Sealed him in a tomb
Wounded for my name

It is my sin to blame

In that hole is the way
In that grave is the truth
Buried is the life eternal

Champion of death
Victory in the grave
This man is my only hope

The power within him
Indescribable life to win
The way the truth the life

In Him is life eternal
From the grave he bore life eternal
Ressurected he gives life eternal


His name is YHWY
His name is EL Shaddai
His name is Jesus Christ my Lord and Savior

Convicted in my place
Crucified for my shame
Guilty as charged was I
Thank you Jesus for your way
If only to encourage others, if only to
implore you to fight back, to show yourself
before the Creator of our Universe,
to employ the tools at our hands.
In a realm we don't see, yet know all
too  well. To put into action what Yahweh has
given us.

What is this incessant fighting,
which consists in my head?
To justify you?
There can be no justification, for him
who set in place every law.
The moral, the physical, and natural.
So then what are they, and why do they
persist?
A battle that rages over me?
Spilling over from the ethereal battleground
in which carcasses amass;
Physical, and all too tragically spiritual!

So chaotic, but perfectly defended, kept
from me as unseen and trifle.
So as to distract me wholly from
the purpose of my mind, which is
the adherence, the observance of your law.
The appreciation of what you've given me.
They're falling, and failing, but boast I will not
"...Lest (I) fall..."
Sincerity is the incredible grasp,
of how far it would be, and how upon that
"rock" (Yahshua) I should be rendered
tiny bits, the refashioning of,
only he would know.
From before the creation of the world,
you knew me, and this very moment.
I will squabble, stumble, and quite
possibly fall. But my Abba,
by your will, through your GRACE I
acknowledge, and profess your TRUTH!

El Shaddai you make genius out of the stagnant.
You create fools out of those full of their
own brand of WISDOM.
You allow those who fear you to move closer
to you, if only to know your peace.
You show patience to those who ignore you,
for those who curse you, a patience,
"...That transcends all human understanding."
That there could be no sweeter words than those
configured by my savior;
than those known to come from your mouth.
The filling of this vessel is allowed
only by your breath which keeps me
alive, yet you love me enough to let me
choose you, thank you for my FREEDOM!
Thank you for refilling me with the
understanding of what it truly means to
be empty.

While the battle rages on,
I in respect to you fighting for me:
Place the belt of truth around my waist.
I firmly affix the breast plate of righteousness
upon my chest. Protecting my heart once so
cold now of flesh, no longer stone.
Pulling down tightly the helmet of
salvation over my head guarding my
thoughts of you in Christ Yahshua (Jesus.)
Lacing up, strapping upon my feet the boots
of the Gospel of peace. No matter
the slopes or the inclines I may stand
and not slide, confident in my footing
the grasping and espousing of your
wisdom.
My left arm adorned with your shield.
It glistens under the rays of your sons
light. Affirming to the enemies the
plight of their arrows, and their darts.
When I raise my shield of FAITH
in defense.
In my right hand my weapon,
"...sharper than any two edged sword,
piercing even to the dividing asunder
of soul and spirit, and of the joints and marrow..."
The word of you Yahweh.
That I may sever all that tries to bind,
and tether me to this finite existence.

I stand a sheep to the slaughter,
for sure, but I too stand a soldier for
you El Shaddai, my SAVIOR Yahshua
Hamashiach.
Defiantly  announcing your name
my battle cry, and the skies open, all
you've granted me if I only offer my
complete submission. AMEN!
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2017
apologies for not inviting the hebrew text,
bit of an *** when encoded in html.

you never, ever! associate yourself
with the *keter
, or the malkhut
of the etz ha-chayim (tree of life), ever!

why would i write such things,
if not for your own safety?
the last person who breached this rule
was yeshua...
   and what was the reward?
                    keter am-qowts -
                          a crown of thorns...

you have the 10 name association,
keter through to malkhut (from crown
to kingship) -
  but such are foundations for a god,
a bitter price to pay, should you
meditate on them...
   namely the crucifix - as the symbol
of kingship, and the crown,
  as already stated.

as men?
     what is important is the yesod,
the foundation...
   shaddai el chai... but look how much
choice you have!
    you can claim
   a yesod-bet-chokhmah
       (foundation in understanding),
a yesod-bet-binah
   (foundation in wisdom),
a yesod-bet-chesed
   (foundation in love),
   a yesod-bet-gevurah
  (foundation in strength),
  a yesod-bet-tiferet
   (foundation in beauty),
  a yesod-bet-netzach
   (foundation in victory),
    a yesod-bet-hod
   (foundation in splendor),
   you can have all that!
   and be free from associating yourself
in a despotism of allowing
    the keter (crown) and the malkhut
(kingship) to blind you,
  as it blinded yeshua...
    
    you are not to mediate the keter,
nor the malkhut,
   but only the yesod...
  as being man, that is all that's required
of you...
   for the keter, in man, is the kippah...
and for the malkhut in man,
                    is his home...
how these two names blind men
into seeking beyond their capacity
to attract the other names,
   in man, the names
  chokhmah, binah, chesed, gevurah,
tiferet, netzach & hod

can only come to an agreed
expression using only yesod...
but should man try to impose
the above names using primarily
keter & malkhut -
he will find himself, having forgotten
the foundation, the yesod,
that respects each virtues,
by always returning to the first step
of having seen,
   how an equilibrium can be
be appropriated, and mediated...

never mediate with the eyes of
avarice, that are known as:
                           keter & malkhut,
or what was the downfall of
   yeshua / jesus "christ".
Precious Vera Jan 2019
We have grown old of age
And thy bond to us should be an eternal nova,yet we have been deceptively acquainted with thy word: we have adopted the ways of foreigners and overturned the identity of exorcism as our manners, defy those by thy faith and drift us deeper into the crust by the day.

Our hearts roar in rage
For we have forsaken thy teachings Jehova.
Our missions are disguised; we are enchanted by Earthly things,which root us into sinners.
With visions befogged by blind optimism.
We took a bite of crusty fruits,blinding our faith and now,the devil engulfs our souls by the day.

We yearn to worship thy name; come to our liberation; we are lost sheep and seek redemption. Lead us away from this real fiction. El Shaddai, lead us back to the garden of Eden.


Hijenduanao Uanivi and Otja Tjipee Uanivi
Thursday,31st January 2019
#Uanivi#PoeticReplications#Redemption
I honor You, LORD,
because You are good.
Your name is precious and holy beyond our understanding,
Yours is the only name that is worthy.
Thank You for the time You've given us to know You.
Thank You for the mercy You wash over us with everyday.
Even though this life can get heavy and we are pressed in from every side, I know that in You, we are never crushed.
You are the Conqueror, our Safety and Hope.
Salvation rests in us because we rest in You.
Bless You, El Shaddai.
Happy New Year, all. I hope this year the love of Jesus  will wash over you, because He's coming back soon. so message me if you want to know more or you'd like some prayer. God Bless!
MissNeona Dec 2023
****-take mushroom & ZZ muffintop
Midnight Mini Stirrings
Stank *****
Farta fartus stuffed
Stank ***** toot morass ed. Kamikaze! Breaking divine wind
Darkmatter meseeks
Dubh black dove
******* city
Dead beat deity
The shipyard - hindquarters
Erotici, inquisition, questionable greek behaviours, 20 questions of sexytime
"Έλληνες”— Hellenes not all Greek to them
Lokas of Control
Ayo shorty, el shaddai
Blodiau flowers
Veer to where we look - the human body vessel
Empath/Narcissist Identification Battle
Boning a FROG
Self-save spiritual checkpoint
Phi-low-so-phi's lodestone powerbottom beastmode
It is se on. Super se on
Lumatic highway
Hippos, whales and guinea pigs, whoop science.
Cymraeg comerades
Is it actually pleasing a person, the people or is it just complex placation?
Arose from the dead the re-in-carnation
Can't find your sol-song singing somebody else's words, relatability doesn't mean originality, cover songs still deviate, bring newness, otherwise it's just a rendition.
"Past life" knowledge doesn't excuse ignorance of this existence, stories change, or maybe were never comprehended to begin why it passed instead of kept...
Why? R U ikigai?
Late Game Strategy
'Ohelo papa = hawaiian strawberry
Kyrios or kurios (Ancient Greek: κύριος, romanized: kū́rios) is a Greek word that is usually translated as "lord" or "master". Curios-city
Military Swinging
Thic phuc tap, like complicated
Cheating for leaderboard status just confuses
Animal crossing guilt lording trainer
Playing highlander with scarecrow... still losing, dummy thicc
Moose will pu. Svenga kuin hirvi.
Iphimedeia - thirsty crotch, seawater4poisideon
Great big mari sea horse
Sartanistic evolution leaves crabby animals
Mustakala kalmari
Every year it rains fish lluvia de peces en loro
Lackey, lost their chi, the key, the qi
Nyawww nho little
Elementary school, deities in the basics, dirt bodies, aetheric breath, water flow, fire chest/divine spark
Dubh snake moana
Aleph tau indicative of spirit soul, not faux alpha ommegid, cyclical abuser and gaping *******
That's Cap!
Robert's Stafford, friar tuck'd, made a mary out of men
Femme bots and gay frogs are like **** mosquitos
ascended self-mastery not ***-ended self master bait story
Cuckoos & Cowbirds
Invasive self-replicating mutant lobster-like creatures
Marmorkrebs have arrived into ontario
Harwell Dekatron
Dome is slick circulation system - vector curve argument heats up
Ich ky, selfish
Polish this Hungarian milk is klingon scientist - tej, thats french, jeter dumped it/threw it down my trivial extensible job-submission
Toki, usagi, konijn, tho, shasha/shosho, coney
War Tortle & A Half Shiell'd Maiden legend of zelva
Minogame, Chelona, Teknosbeka
Jigglypuff's song - tone, support, attempts
Orchestration, blue whales & summer of salmon hats
lend me your external auditory meatus
Llama glama
Persian carpet flatworm esque ****** fencing alpha omeggids for dominance
Lies and thievery need other people, stay in own lane means more success.
repeated bout effect - can learn almost anything with normalization, but why?
Queen Tyra. KeyRa.
Silvas & Kin - forests & gold
Zena warrior princess
Here kai di kai di
Air bhioran = Scottish gaelic excited
Address and listen to the man
Paying damages vs. Demonstrating repentance with bonus joy
Dzieki polish apppreciation, dzjinke czech out this djinn, jinkies, scoobie!
Velma willhelmet wilhelm william
Shalom implies wholeness
A shiva, a she ra, aethera
Win-win-wind condition

Fibula Dragula bone placement
Presented:
https://www.youtube.com/live/nAmlDS1L31s?feature=shared
Disney destroyed maternal worries with furnace asphyxiants of gas,
proving that lungs full of carbon monoxide fumes ain't going to last
to see '39 as '38 wafted by in a whiff of monoxidized demise so fast
for those who cartoonize the near-future, animate God's distant past
so as to demand that Rabbi Shimon's Apocalypse tribes be amassed
to pike the head of Charlie Watts as El Shaddai can never be sassed
Disney destroyed maternal worries with furnace asphyxiants of gas,
proving that lungs full of carbon monoxide fumes ain't going to last
to see '39 as '38 wafted by in a whiff of monoxidized demise so fast
for those who cartoonize the near-future, animate God's distant past
so as to demand that Rabbi Shimon's Apocalypse tribes be amassed
to pike the head of Charlie Watts as El Shaddai can never be sassed
before a Satanical/congregational flock of U.S.'s pornocratical cast
conjuring underneath a devilishly-****** act's pornographical blast
framed as merry mix-ups the queerest of collusions that flabbergast
regardless of America's oldest race-baitin' ******'s homosexual past
as a Georgia state assembly guy whom toothless ****** outclassed

— The End —