"sinless" poems
Flesh is heretic.
My body is a witch.
I am burning it.
Yes I am torching
ber curves and paps and wiles.
They scorch in my self denials.
How she meshed my head
in the half-truths
of her fevers
till I renounced
milk and honey
and the taste of lunch.
I vomited
her hungers.
Now the ***** is burning.
I am starved and curveless.
I am skin and bone.
She has learned her lesson.
Thin as a rib
I turn in sleep.
My dreams probe
a claustrophobia
a sensuous enclosure.
How warm it was and wide
once by a warm drum,
once by the song of his breath
and in his sleeping side.
Only a little more,
only a few more days
sinless, foodless,
I will slip
back into him again
as if I had never been away.
Caged so
I will grow
angular and holy
past pain,
keeping his heart
such company
as will make me forget
in a small space
the fall
into forked dark,
into python needs
heaving to hips and *******
and lips and heat
and sweat and fat and greed.
17.2k
I used to smile all the time, all day and to everyone.
Along the path of my painful and difficult experiences I lost my smile
I have left segments of my smile in people’s lives
People who do not care to bring it back
Can I blame though? I let them take it
I let them take my smile
Their wear my smile on their faces as if it’s their own while I walk around without one
I have to make a new smile
It’s hard to because I was so used to the one I had
It was filled with genuine innocence, joy and life
Love, hope and faith
Yet now I wear a mask to cover up the non-existent smile I have
I listen to music to find my smile but I find pieces of myself rather in every song that I listen to
So I have lost my smile and myself
I don’t know who I am anymore
They took myself away from me
If I had opened my mouth and said something when I had the chance to
I’d have my smile and be myself
But here I am writing this poem, tears swelling in my eyes
My hands are cold and stiff
It’s hard to write about how I lost my smile
Will I ever get it back?
Time is going, the clock is ticking and days are passing
I am getting older and wiser yet I still have not my smile
Dear Little Child:
Do not let them take away your smile and innocence. You won’t know any better but because I have been in your shoes once upon a time I am asking you to not let them take away your life. For those are your most vulnerable and precious years and not everyone lived those years so they always want to deprive the innocent and clueless of their own years. If someone had warned me like I have warned you I would’ve lived to see your sinless face. Do not let them tell you otherwise, be who you are, be happy, live joyfully and most importantly do not them take away your smile for once it is taken you can never get it back again.
Jul 14, 2016
Jul 14, 2016 at 9:37 AM UTC
I wish you detox from drunken heights,
I’m jesus for today until my current shift ends
and the next one begins, after many nights,
in the garden centre of fallen south coast eden.
Shine shine shine
Light of mine
For now everything’s just fine
People’s faces glitter as I go by,
memories of sinless youth,
for my hands blind with nostalgia,
that my being resurrects.
The child Lazarus scurries past my side,
to his home with his future in his hands,
in my hands, cupped wide.
Shine shine shine
Light of mine
For now everything’s just fine
I can love the unfortunate,
for my fortune is golden.
Delivered in letters
from North, West, East.
My trinity circle who join me at my supper,
breaking the garlic bread and sipping the borello,
to top crab ravioli baptised in the stream of sauce.
Shine shine shine
Light of mine
For now everything’s just fine
The gates of heaven are open,
unblocked by the deaths of Keats, Shelley and Williams,
their souls not blocking the exit with an Underground Queue.
I give my blessings to
Livingstone and Charles Gordon
The one native he changed and the others’ sacrifice at Khartoum
Gained me my crown to modestly flaunt.
Shine shine shine
Light of mine
For now everything’s just fine
I float down the hall, to His Mighty Voice,
as my gold becomes a donation on the alter,
to gain the choral hymns of Mercury gilded rock gods
that will brighten my days
for now,
oh glorious moments.
Amen.
Aug 22, 2018
Aug 22, 2018 at 12:22 PM UTC
..life is full of life
like a magic land full of wonders,
like songs whose notes go high and low,
with lines which rhyme to make a flow!
and whole experiences in life goes just like a wind's blow:
soft yet swift, silent yet clear.
It begins,continues and may even end well only if you put forward a virtuous life indeed.
All you need to be away from is the poison tree
which fed Adam and Eve.
Look away!
It may be placed in the center of your life too.
You may find it the most glossy and glittering today.
Bowing to this may keep your head held down forever.
Know this fact for a sinless life
All the tempting trees yield fruits sour & reel
you'll stumble,totter,wobble & falter!
Then'll you realize fasting away this fruit was better.
But by then you'll lose paradise forever and fetter!
So let us all not reach to this concluding our lives should have a better ending.
which is to be more certain,graceful & dutiful.
Cos we live only once but it should have the worth of tons
Life'll help you do that..As "life attracts life"
BEAUTIFULLY ,ENORMOUSLY & PERFECTLY!!
Jun 1, 2015
Jun 1, 2015 at 8:20 AM UTC
Amazing Grace: your gift for all. So amazing your grace that you would die for us sinners on a cross in shame and agony though sinless yourself.
How Sweet the Sound: to hear "your sins are absolved"
That Saved a Wretch Like Me: Compared to your perfection and glory we are truly wretched. All blackened by sin, but because of your death on a cross not by water or blood, but by water and blood we are saved and washed clean and white. The only chance we have of getting into heaven is by your gift of Amazing Grace.
I Once Was Lost: like a sheep who strays from the flock and wanders off
But Now Am Found: I am safe and sound in your arms once again. You rescue me from danger and bring me back safe and sound.
Was Blind: because of sin and my faults, wrapped up in a blanket of hurting and lies.
But Now I See: the magnitude of this gift you give and because of your death, the pure spotless lamb, and the cleansing blood you shed for me and for many that sins might be forgiven.
'Twas Grace That Taught My Heart To Fear: fear you in a deep respect for your power, fear of not having you always there and fear of satan and the cost of sin.
And Grace My Fears Relieved: I used to fear what would happen if I sinned and I still fear as I should always, but I take comfort in the knowledge that when I sincerely repent, do my best to sin no more, and to avoid the things that lead me to sin I will be forgiven.
How Precious Did That Grace Appear: It is by Grace and Grace alone that we are saved and indeed how precious, how special Grace was as it appeared to me
The Hour I First Believed: The hour I came to believe in you Jesus my Savior who shed your blood, died and rose again that I might live!
May 9, 2014
May 9, 2014 at 8:50 PM UTC
Fashion’s symbolic sensuality draws eyes, stir passions and maybe even resentments! =]
Of course, maybe you’re above worldly conceits, above fashion. YOU, go through life as unaware as sinless Adam and you’re excessively handsome, or pretty, obviously.
But for the rest of us - fashion is the medium of our beauty and God created Paris for fashion.
We’re pretending we’ve come to Paris (our immediate, pandemic safety-pod-family) for a family reunion - but REALLY, we’re on safari - a freshmen, college-wear, “back to school,” ensemble hunt (for meeeeeeeeeeee!).
Step 1 (there’s only 1 step) - go to the Rue Saint-Honoré.
This year, I like-like Anna Molinari - most of the ready-to-wear daily-trash I snapped-up is hers - all hers. It didn’t start out that way - but she sould me on an uncharted course at first sight.
Other designers seem to be pushing old-lady-looking floral prints this season. Eeuw! Why?? DIAF.
My gran-mère (grandmother) told me - 6 days ago - as she attempted to tame my run-away hair: “You need to be unpredictable, petite beauté, not some comely young automaton. Then everyone will find you interesting and watch to see what you do next.”
Thank you, gran-mère - I’ll settle for looking interesting any time.
Jul 30, 2021
Jul 30, 2021 at 8:42 AM UTC
born to this earth as a sinner,
but there is no sweeter innocence than a forgiven sin.
but to live a life without sin would not be living at all.
so do you fear that your sins pile up ?
or do you fear that your life will end sinless ?
Dec 6, 2014
Dec 6, 2014 at 2:50 AM UTC
Take heed of this small child of earth;
He is great; he hath in him God most high.
Children before their fleshly birth
Are lights alive in the blue sky.
In our light bitter world of wrong
They come; God gives us them awhile.
His speech is in their stammering tongue,
And his forgiveness in their smile.
Their sweet light rests upon our eyes.
Alas! their right to joy is plain.
If they are hungry Paradise
Weeps, and, if cold, Heaven thrills with pain.
The want that saps their sinless flower
Speaks judgment on sin's ministers.
Man holds an angel in his power.
Ah! deep in Heaven what thunder stirs,
When God seeks out these tender things
Whom in the shadow where we sleep
He sends us clothed about with wings,
And finds them ragged babes that weep!
4.4k
So full of life and vital things
upon the brink, I spread my wings
and close my eyes and look ahead
at all the things I've never said
at all the things I should have done
of prizes that I've striven for
and hopelessly have never won
of friends I've made
who've come and gone
Of mountains that I should have climbed
instead, on cushions I reclined
and thoughtlessly I drank the wine
of Apathy
So now that clouds have drifted by
and all alone, I lift my eye
and see the way to heaven's door
and know that life's worth fighting for
Next time I see a mountain high
I'll bound right up and touch the sky
I'll seek the prize and win this time
I'm not afraid, I'll take what's mine
won't rest on laurels in the sun
I'll fly to where the work is done
and if it's worth the price I'll give,
of all I have, so we can live
in peace, I'll comfort anyone
who needs my help
to get things done
I'll thank the Lord for what he gave
his sinless life our souls to save
I'll hold my friends much dearer still
I'll share the wine, we'll drink our fill
No Apathy
Nov 4, 2014
Nov 4, 2014 at 4:14 PM UTC
The quiet August noon has come,
A slumberous silence fills the sky,
The fields are still, the woods are dumb,
In glassy sleep the waters lie.
And mark yon soft white clouds that rest
Above our vale, a moveless throng;
The cattle on the mountain's breast
Enjoy the grateful shadow long.
Oh, how unlike those merry hours
In early June when Earth laughs out,
When the fresh winds make love to flowers,
And woodlands sing and waters shout.
When in the grass sweet voices talk,
And strains of tiny music swell
From every moss-cup of the rock,
From every nameless blossom's bell.
But now a joy too deep for sound,
A peace no other season knows,
Hushes the heavens and wraps the ground,
The blessing of supreme repose.
Away! I will not be, to-day,
The only slave of toil and care.
Away from desk and dust! away!
I'll be as idle as the air.
Beneath the open sky abroad,
Among the plants and breathing things,
The sinless, peaceful works of God,
I'll share the calm the season brings.
Come, thou, in whose soft eyes I see
The gentle meanings of thy heart,
One day amid the woods with me,
From men and all their cares apart.
And where, upon the meadow's breast,
The shadow of the thicket lies,
The blue wild flowers thou gatherest
Shall glow yet deeper near thine eyes.
Come, and when mid the calm profound,
I turn, those gentle eyes to seek,
They, like the lovely landscape round,
Of innocence and peace shall speak.
Rest here, beneath the unmoving shade,
And on the silent valleys gaze,
Winding and widening, till they fade
In yon soft ring of summer haze.
The village trees their summits rear
Still as its spire, and yonder flock
At rest in those calm fields appear
As chiselled from the lifeless rock.
One tranquil mount the scene o'erlooks--
There the hushed winds their sabbath keep
While a near hum from bees and brooks
Comes faintly like the breath of sleep.
Well may the gazer deem that when,
Worn with the struggle and the strife,
And heart-sick at the wrongs of men,
The good forsakes the scene of life;
Like this deep quiet that, awhile,
Lingers the lovely landscape o'er,
Shall be the peace whose holy smile
Welcomes him to a happier shore.
4.1k
Oh fairest of the rural maids!
Thy birth was in the forest shades;
Green boughs, and glimpses of the sky,
Were all that met thy infant eye.
Thy sports, thy wanderings, when a child,
Were ever in the sylvan wild;
And all the beauty of the place
Is in thy heart and on thy face.
The twilight of the trees and rocks
Is in the light shade of thy locks;
Thy step is as the wind, that weaves
Its playful way among the leaves.
Thine eyes are springs, in whose serene
And silent waters heaven is seen;
Their lashes are the herbs that look
On their young figures in the brook.
The forest depths, by foot unpressed,
Are not more sinless than thy breast;
The holy peace, that fills the air
Of those calm solitudes, is there.
3.9k
NAY! swear no more, thou woman whom I called
Star, Empress, Wife! Were Dian's self to lean
From her white altar and with goddess lip
Swear thee as pure as her pale breast divine,
I could not deem thee purer than I know
Thou art indeed.
Once, when my triumphs rolled
Along old Rome and blood of roses washed
The battle-stains from off my chariot-wheels,
And triumph's thunders round my legions roared,
And kings in kingly ******* golden bound
Shook at my charger's foot, past the hot din
Of Victory-whose heart of golden pride in wound
Most subtly through with fire of subtlest pain-
My soul on prouder pinion rose above
The Roman shouting, to an air more clear
Than that Jove darks with hurtling thunderbolts,
Or stains with Jovian revels-that separate sphere,
Unshared of gods or man, where thy white feet
Caught their sole staining from my ruddy heart,
Blazing beneath them; where, when Rome looked up,
'Twas with the eyes close shaded with the hand,
As at some glory terrible and pure,-
For no man being pure, a terror dwells
Holy and awful in a sinless thing-
And Caesar's wife, the Empress-Matron, sat
Above a doubt-as high above a stain.
Nay! how know I what hell first belched abroad
Tall flames and slanderous vomitings of smoke,
Blown by infernal breathings, till they scaled
Thy throne of whiteness, and the very slaves
Who crouched in Roman kennels wagged the tongue
Against the wife of Caesar: 'Ha! we need not now
And opal-shaded stone wherewith to view
A stainless glory.' In that day my neck
Was bound and yoked with my twin-Caesar's yoke-
Man's master, Sorrow.
I know thee pure-
But Caesar's wife must throne herself so high
Upon the hills that touch their snowy crests
So close on Heaven that no slanderous Hell
Can dash its lava up their swelling sides.
I love thee, woman, know thee pure, but thou
No more art wife of Caesar. Get thee hence!
My heart is hardened as a lonely crag,
Grey granite lifted to a greyer sky,
And where against its solitary crown
Eternal thunders bellow.
3.7k
salt stings wounds
salt stings eyes, entering, leaving...
healing, healing. The sea will take you away.
I tire of hearing abot these migrants
well they tire of the rick-shaw of an untested boat
of their homes becoming rubble & dust clouds,
of seeing blood in the dirt.
As long as there is war,
as long as there is famine
as long as there exists somewhere
called 'refuge'
then there will be refugees.
Oh child, rocked to sleep by the tide...
you should never have to answer for adult violence,
innocent & sleepy, sinless.
You have been written in blood in the old books
you have been decided for.
Your dice have been rolled by strange hands;
born amid angry eyes,
and so shall die,
washed ashore upon sand,
carried quietly away
to your final crib
to your refuge.
Sep 15, 2015
Sep 15, 2015 at 4:23 PM UTC
in a land where four languages are official
a church was named only in three; for the fourth
is the language of a weak and fragile faith
whose edicts are above the law of the land,
and whereof knowing a church's name is temptation
and the tempter the sinner and the tempted sinless;
a rock is evil for stumbling the weak,
and if truth offends the truthsayer dies,
and the thief blameless for the rich flaunts his gold;
thus protected by an unsheathed ****** sword
a faith strengthened with every tempter's death
Mar 28, 2022
Mar 28, 2022 at 11:17 PM UTC
Flower gentle, colors flowing,
Purple bleeds from velvet red,
White is pure, it barely holding
Sinless dew, confused and wet.
Petals curvy, gently squeezing
Swollen flesh of yellow stigma,
Scent arousing, tremors pleasing
Form lascivious enigma.
May 18, 2019
May 18, 2019 at 11:11 AM UTC
the shoes you left
on my balcony
are rotten
but yours
I keep a lock
of your
dark curly silky
hair in my drawers
stalkerism is
the sinless habit
of modern days
please forgive me
Jul 9, 2010
Jul 9, 2010 at 7:04 PM UTC
Medical preys;
unwanted grasses
on female pasture;
yet over determined to exist.
Victims!
to pleasurable sins
Murdered!
by we who bekoned them.
To save faces
and intergrity;
To erase footprints
and outcome of our sins.
but you never cease to surface,
at any ****** call;
Never afraid of the death
warrant
nor the murderous act.
Brave unborn souls,
sacrificial lambs
of human immorality,
''cleansing off our sins''.
Yet answerable
to any ****** call
wishing it sinless
by matrimony.
Beauty of a marital love,
essence of a matrimonial
act.innocent
of all innocents,
One with God!,
Wisdom of the ancient!
The first measures
of purity.
But; where goes
the astral wisdoms
after the humanization?
where you compelled
to be born,
revoltless of the ******
of your unborn kind?
was it karmic purposed?
Feb 16, 2010
Feb 16, 2010 at 10:01 AM UTC
In the former life I led
I had no way of filling
The empty grave of one who's dead
My pride was e'r willing
I had an ego overblown
In pompous boasts exceeding
But I was lost and all alone
My soul was torn and bleeding
I had abilities and then
Became a prideful bearer
Of all the things that I could do
At last I was in error
Even when I knew The Lord
Made charity my pleasure
My works became my righteousness
Above my only Treasure
Christ died in vain upon his cross
If my beliefs adhered to
And I rejected precious Grace
That was the point I came to
How can I live a sinless life?
I am without that merit
Jesus lived that life for me
So Grace I could inherit!
So here I am to tell you all
Pride is like a cancer
I will boast in Jesus Christ
For He's the only answer
SoulSurvivor
(C) 4/23/2016
*"I will not boast in anything
No gifts, no power, no wisdom
I will boast in Jesus Christ
His death and resurrection
Why would I gain from His reward?
I cannot give an answer
But this I know with all my heart
His wounds have paid my ransom."
How Great The Father's Love*
Apr 23, 2016
Apr 23, 2016 at 1:11 AM UTC
I hunt antelope in human hordes.
I haul three brooms on one shoulder.
I don't clean up.
I dance with specters and minuscule magenta men.
I am the precocious girl in fuchsia heels and charcoal dress.
I am the humble man with stark white tails.
I pull drops of food from the ether.
I pinch seeds from flower's eyes.
I touch like feathers and embrace like mountains.
I take leave when I want to.
I am the shaggy oak watching his youth flash past.
I am the alabaster orb and the effervescent waves.
I eat the wind with a dash of cinnamon.
I exude thunderstorms from every pore.
I sleep with stingrays and the smell of wet hay.
I spend blood-soaked bills without a second thought.
I am the sinless murderer.
I am the woman with eyes that mend bones.
I fly with eagles in the cerulean.
I fight Irish brawlers with my eyes closed.
I capture hearts in nets of lavender and silk.
I climb towering opal obelisks.
I am the painter's muse and the singer's breath.
I am the hoary frost on ancient limbs.
May 12, 2010
May 12, 2010 at 11:07 AM UTC
***IF YOU READ NONE OF MY OTHER
POETRY, PLEASE READ THIS!***
Knock, knock - Who's there?
Is anybody home?
The lights are on, but you are gone...
It's silent as a tomb.
Knock, knock - Who's there?
Listen to the sound!
He waits for you! You know it's true!
But you are not around...
When Jesus is a'knocking
At your heart's fast door,
You appear to close your ears...
Do YOU know WHAT'S IN STORE?
We DON'T all go to heaven...
YES! There is a hell!
You will find that you are blind
Believin' a tall tale!
*I am a "good" person!
I'm helpful, and I give!
It's okay to be this way!
I live and let live...*.
NO! Jesus lead the sinless life
And gave it up for YOU!
Let Him in, He'll take your sin,
For He is kind and true!
There are NONE "good" people!
Folks! We're near the END!
Satan promotes his lies and gloats,
You'd best believe it, friend.
We ALL sin, and like as not
God CAN hold a grudge!
I don't know why we try and try
To say He doesn't *judge!
This means YOU TOO, Believers!*
You'd best have a care...
Be ye pure, or you'll endure
The same fate sinners share!
This is simply Bible.
God, the temple left!
Ezekiel. You know full well.
It was then BEREFT!!!
CHRISTIANS! Are you holy?
Have you sinned enuf?
He is God - He's not a CLOD!
He don't put up with GUFF!!!
Do I sound like I'm frightened?
You BET! I am afraid.
There is grace, but it's a *race!
I may NOT make the grade!*
We CAN blame the devil,
And that is just a shame...
He tempts us all, but please recall
REBUKE! In JESUS NAME!
**Adam blamed the WOMAN.
Eve... she blamed the SNAKE...
Holy SMOKES! C'mon folks!
HOW MUCH CAN GOD TAKE???!!!**
Knock, knock - Who's there?
Christ died that we may LIVE!
Open up and *drink the cup!
Then He can FORGIVE!*
If you don't, please hear me.
You'll believe a LIE.
You may well end up in hell...
**So kiss your soul GOODBYE.**
SoulSurvivor
(C) 6/12/2014
This poem is a spoken-word vidio
on YouTube...
https://youtu.be/PbD84Tuydxw
Apr 24, 2016
Apr 24, 2016 at 3:16 PM UTC
GLEAMING through the silent church-yard,
Winter sunlight seemed to shed
Golden shadows like soft blessings
O'er a quiet little bed,
Where a pale face lay unheeding
Tender tears that o'er it fell;
No sorrow now could touch the heart
Of gentle little Nell.
Ah, with what silent patient strength
The frail form lying there
Had borne its heavy load of grief,
Of loneliness and care.
Now, earthly burdens were laid down,
And on the meek young face
There shone a holier loveliness
Than childhood's simple grace.
Beset with sorrow, pain and fear,
Tempted by want and sin,
With none to guide or counsel her
But the brave child-heart within.
Strong in her fearless, faithful love,
Devoted to the last,
Unfaltering through gloom and gleam
The little wanderer passed.
Hand in hand they journeyed on
Through pathways strange and wild,
The gray-haired, feeble, sin-bowed man
Led by the noble child.
So through the world's dark ways she passed,
Till o'er the church-yard sod,
To the quiet spot where they found rest,
Those little feet had trod.
To that last resting-place on earth
Kind voices bid her come,
There her long wanderings found an end,
And weary Nell a home.
A home whose light and joy she was,
Though on her spirit lay
A solemn sense of coming change,
That deepened day by day.
There in the church-yard, tenderly,
Through quiet summer hours,
Above the poor neglected graves
She planted fragrant flowers.
The dim aisles of the ruined church
Echoed the child's light tread,
And flickering sunbeams thro' the leaves
Shone on her as she read.
And here where a holy silence dwelt,
And golden shadows fell,
When Death's mild face had looked on her,
They laid dear happy Nell.
Long had she wandered o'er the earth,
One hand to the old man given,
By the other angels led her on
Up a sunlit path to Heaven.
Oh! 'patient, loving, noble Nell,'
Like light from sunset skies,
The beauty of thy sinless life
Upon the dark world lies.
On thy sad story, gentle child,
Dim eyes will often dwell,
And loving hearts will cherish long
The memory of Nell.
2.2k
I was waiting for a simple message from you that
we both know was never to come. I sat impatiently
atop the cities tallest building and watched the coming
storm. I witnessed the water beat the feeble earth
into submission and it looked alright to me. But then
the raging sinless sea swallowed the shore. The end
of our hometown (est. 1919) took about a minute
and a half. A man leapt out of his chair and said it
was amazing as the punishing, purifying wave tore
into his home of 20 years. The coin laundromats and
malls became the shallows and downtown by the Top 40
radio station became the deep. Clown fish swam amongst
the stop lights, trash cans and satellite dishes. And a
coral reef began to grow deeply into the brick of the tasty
Greek restaurant at the corner of MLK and Main. Eels and
rays swam up the sidewalks and hammerheads patroled
the submerged skyscrapers. Admittedly, a lot of the
busy people who didn’t take the time to look out their
smudged windows and watch the water devour the flood
walls and seafront property didn’t make it out of their
homes and cars and schools and businesses. And those
people that didn’t make it to the outskirts of the metro in
time were quickly drowned and integrated breathlessly into
the oceanic food chain. The deep began to kiss my ankles
and I thought I would surely drown. I surmised that you
probably weren’t thinking about us at that moment and that
it was for the best. You had other matters on your mind.
I watched a miniature apocalypse take place and
I thought I should probably call and quickly tell you
that everything you ever loved was gone or going.
I decided against it.
Anything I say to you is gonna come out wrong anyway.
Aug 25, 2012
Aug 25, 2012 at 2:11 AM UTC
When the bracelets that you wear become
symbolic of who you love,
and I wore two while you had none.
Would it matter how these bracelets looked?
If it does:
One was pink, it bore the symbol of Christianity
I had been asked many times if it was
but all it proved was my unconditional sinless love
for you
the other was striped, red and white
while everyone told me it "was so much like me"
I wore it because it "was so much like you"
and by now we had melted into each other.
I suppose we started falling apart when they did,
the first I lost yesterday.
Feb 23, 2016
Feb 23, 2016 at 3:04 PM UTC
Fire up your talk boxes
Life’s such a bore
Until we discover
Today’s Rage du Jour
Do we have to turn Red
if they’re feeling Blue?
Does screaming more loudly
make it any more true?
Is it fate we must hate if
They want to make it great?
Must our faces turn redder if
They want to build back better?
What if we hear different voices?
And what if they make different choices?
Do we choose to lash out
always feel justified
As our fears turn to rage
and we’re bloated with pride?
Who among us sees clearly?
Whose judgment is never astray?
What great one among us holds just the right viewpoints
to keep cyber pitchforks at bay?
He said sinless stoneholders
could fire away
Yet there’s rocks hurling
constantly every which way
Can’t we sew up our lips
and ***** up our our ears
and realize there’s much
we can learn from our peers?
It’s hard to see it through our spite
But life is rarely black or white
Whatever happened to nuance?
When did we lose the gray?
How did this digital mob get the power to police every last thing we say?
There’s a whole vibrant world in 4K
We’re all welcome to come out and play
Let’s not label them Other
When they’re truly our brother
Only Kindness can show us the way
Jul 22, 2022
Jul 22, 2022 at 10:00 AM UTC
Donor of precious breath and dappled miracles;
'Tis virtuous Lord that sends the kissy graces---
Those which we pride fully see here in blessing hues,
Of florets that primly spring the sweet daughter's eyes.
When Saves the sinless face of her; the mirthful thought-
So watchful is purity in cheerful weightless hours,
And nestled above the innocent columns of bright-
Radiance, which are seen on growth's careful corners.
Once you held the esteem when you have watched-
The birds with surprising eyes, your baby feet crept
Silently on the corridor and wind a song tuned,
As softly murmur’d on your own balmy ears to apt.
O' a real bead of ruby, that marks parents proud,
On those starry glances that quench any a thirsty mind
So as your humble nods and tiny frame allowed-
Them to seek those tender hands, where I, kisses find.
Like a flower that spring up early above the leaves,
To spread the fragrance so peacefully to fill the air,
Where the morns latest star,that shines to active lives,
Will throw his pointed beam to enlighten you fair.
Life can teach you a success, by nature you must grow;
If Divine that your eyes can see, and divine will,
Be ears can hear, to show you how to love and sow,
The seeds of compassion and mutual respect still~
What else I compare with those smiles to be adored-
For she has to the world so happy-happy love.
O' precious little girl--- crawl to your sleeping bed,
And mother will tell you a moral story, so motive.
Jan 12, 2014
Jan 12, 2014 at 1:08 PM UTC