Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"substituted" poems
Beauty out in the open, light falls on linoleum tiles like heel-worn stones Windows to a sunny world sit at the end of locker-lined tunnels, beckoning beyond fluorescent mazes Clotted with conversation, upperclassmen stroll like the elderly Young blood doge or cling to the sides, scared of the critical runway that is us Windows to a sunny world sit at the end of locker-lined tunnels, beckoning beyond fluorescent mazes Eyes from all sides, thinking nothing yet are supplied by our own thoughts Young blood doge or cling to the sides, scared of the critical runway that is us Finding refuge in educational terrariums, an ecosystem that saves me from the weight Eyes from all sides, thinking nothing yet are supplied by our own thoughts Finding solace in stairwells, sealed off by doors and hold awkward opportunities Finding refuge in educational terrariums, an ecosystem that saves me from the weight Clanging like a child’s cry releases stress like floodgates, another trip into the shark tank Finding solace in stairwells, sealed off by doors and hold awkward opportunities Open doors that are actually closed; they are like aquariums – no tapping on the glass please. Clanging like a child’s cry releases stress like floodgates, another trip into the shark tank The longer I stay the more I wish to leave, away from substituted confrontations Open doors that are actually closed; they are like aquariums – no tapping on the glass please. Prejudice like heavy rain beats at my skin and soaks my clothes - but I know it was I who brought the downpour The longer I stay the more I wish to leave, away from substituted confrontations Must comparisons be so obvious when I walk alone, unprotected? They are lucky to have such equals to act as parents; they hold each other’s hands to keep from drowning Prejudice like heavy rain beats at my skin and soaks my clothes – but I know it was I who brought the downpour They pull like vultures at flesh; I am not allowed to wrap myself in hurricanes while out in the open Must comparisons be so obvious when I walk alone, unprotected? They are lucky to have such equals to act as parents; they hold each other’s hands to keep from drowning Ignorance is bliss, they say, and truth that is here – the less you know the less hate you bear the weight of. They pull like vultures at flesh; I am not allowed to wrap myself in hurricanes while out in the open Look down, one foot – and then the other! Ignorance is bliss they say, and truth that is here – the less you know the less hate you bear the weight of. Anger and sadness, guilt and fear turn like Viewmaster slides lit up by the sun Or am I on my own here? Each boy's path runs along each other like long-exposure stars, leaving streaks between the darkness.
0
Jun 26, 2010
Jun 26, 2010 at 10:48 PM UTC
Repercussions.
Beauty out in the open, light falls on linoleum tiles like heel-worn stones Windows to a sunny world sit at the end of locker-lined tunnels, beckoning beyond fluorescent mazes Clotted with conversation, upperclassmen stroll like the elderly Young blood doge or cling to the sides, scared of the critical runway that is us Windows to a sunny world sit at the end of locker-lined tunnels, beckoning beyond fluorescent mazes Eyes from all sides, thinking nothing yet are supplied by our own thoughts Young blood doge or cling to the sides, scared of the critical runway that is us Finding refuge in educational terrariums, an ecosystem that saves me from the weight Eyes from all sides, thinking nothing yet are supplied by our own thoughts Finding solace in stairwells, sealed off by doors and hold awkward opportunities Finding refuge in educational terrariums, an ecosystem that saves me from the weight Clanging like a child’s cry releases stress like floodgates, another trip into the shark tank Finding solace in stairwells, sealed off by doors and hold awkward opportunities Open doors that are actually closed; they are like aquariums – no tapping on the glass please. Clanging like a child’s cry releases stress like floodgates, another trip into the shark tank The longer I stay the more I wish to leave, away from substituted confrontations Open doors that are actually closed; they are like aquariums – no tapping on the glass please. Prejudice like heavy rain beats at my skin and soaks my clothes - but I know it was I who brought the downpour The longer I stay the more I wish to leave, away from substituted confrontations Must comparisons be so obvious when I walk alone, unprotected? They are lucky to have such equals to act as parents; they hold each other’s hands to keep from drowning Prejudice like heavy rain beats at my skin and soaks my clothes – but I know it was I who brought the downpour They pull like vultures at flesh; I am not allowed to wrap myself in hurricanes while out in the open Must comparisons be so obvious when I walk alone, unprotected? They are lucky to have such equals to act as parents; they hold each other’s hands to keep from drowning Ignorance is bliss, they say, and truth that is here – the less you know the less hate you bear the weight of. They pull like vultures at flesh; I am not allowed to wrap myself in hurricanes while out in the open Look down, one foot – and then the other! Ignorance is bliss they say, and truth that is here – the less you know the less hate you bear the weight of. Anger and sadness, guilt and fear turn like Viewmaster slides lit up by the sun Or am I on my own here? Each boy's path runs along each other like long-exposure stars, leaving streaks between the darkness.
Continue reading...
29
Silence. Solvent. Substituted; subsidised then marginalised instituted and muted. And, often persecuted. Rationanalised by abstraction: every minuscule interaction dissected. All that is left is convoluted, misconstrued and rejected. The lucid bewildered. The disillusioned bejeweled: rooted in their state of mind. Effortlessly self-proclaiming restraining and refraining purging the imagination: the waning of maligned mankind. And all of his illuminated limitations.
0
Jul 3, 2014
Jul 3, 2014 at 10:38 PM UTC
Illumination
I guess you could call me a people addict; I live for the exchanges, momentary or prolonged, the satisfaction of smiles substituted for verbalized salutations; the how-you-do's and hello's, the pleasantries of chit chat, talk of my oh my, I am not ready for this snow and how was your holiday?; catching a supposed-to-be-sneaked glance from that tasty stranger, allowing your eyes to meet for longer than you meant to; a compliment that drips off the lips so sweet, its nectar invading the taste buds for hours on end; individualized or multiplied, I relish in the conjugated haze, in the gazes and the giggles, in the potential formulation of inside jokes, in a have a good day to a grin I will never see again, the whirlwind of vowels and consonants, of coincidences and sarcasm, of the impressions we may leave of which we will never be aware; I crave the mundane, I get high off the monotony, I am swallowed by the simplicity; Yeah, I guess you could call me a people addict, and I'm cool with that.
0
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 5:20 PM UTC
******
So seeing at the feet of the cross was Mary Magdalene looking for one last time in her soul lover's eyes before the death of love (Eros?) But in the distance is the Gnosis Knight Jason watching this scene of utter Substituted Love - (Bearing one another's burdens) this Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) in action? The death of duality and the unitive power and wisdom of God; yes the bringing together in the bridal chamber of the groom and bride in loves Eros type death in cosmic reality? The Gnosis Knight Jason comes close to the cross smiles at Mary Magdalene and whispers do you see by my eyes Mary? I see two Christ's becoming Unitive in Jesus and his body, male and female? I see Chokmâh (Wisdom) also on the cross in death with her husband part of Christ? This is Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) of The Christ, This is Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) of The Christ, This is Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) of The Christ, So I see Chokmâh with a full Red Rose Crown on the temple of the Christ; this is on the blessed head of Jesus, the son of humanity? Then Jesus gives up the Eros (Romantic Love and Passion ) and dies? The sky turns black to say is LOVE (Eros, the Romantic Love and Passion) really dead? Then they take the body of Jesus to the garden tomb to plant the Rose Bush Seed of Love (Eros, Romantic Love and Passionate Love) in the earth for three days to grow into the fullness of Agape (Universal Love?) Then Mary Magdalene waits in the bridal chamber (human heart) she keeps the hope and knowing Love's Passion is stronger than death itself? The Gnosis Knight Jason is waiting to see his Queen Chokmâh (Wisdom) come from the garden tomb as well? Then on that blessed morning Mary Magdalene says the blessed words my Teacher? The rest of the story is known. But Gnosis Knight Jason sees a woman caring for a budding Rose bush and she turn's and smiles; yes Knight Jason; It is I the Queen part of Christ; Chokmâh (Wisdom) Herself? So The Queen Chokmâh (Wisdom) says to the Queen's Hand; the Knight Jason; it is I, Chokmâh (Wisdom) Herself Again? Because Her Knight Jason was shocked and never answered the first time? Because he thought she really is apart of The fullness of Christ Itself? Then the good Knight Jason answer's; I am not worthy to be your blessed hand my Queen? But the Queen lets her Knight give her a sweet kiss on her Blessed and Holy lips to make Knight Jason's unworthy lips clean again? So this sweet holy kiss to make his lips worthy and clean in Cosmic Reality? The Knight Jason replies - "Thus from my lips by thine my sin is purged."  Then the Knight Jason asks my Queen am I also begotten and reborn by the sweet loves holy kiss in Cosmic Reality? The Queen Smiles and says that is how the children of Wisdom are begotten in Cosmic Reality.  Then he kneels and she crown's her knight; a king of her unitive gospel of Wisdom and Life? Then Chokmâh (Wisdom) says She will give you a Red Rose Garland to grace your head and present you with a glorious Red Rose crown. The Bridal Chamber is now open for unitive Wisdom to enter into the blessed garden of the groom and bride once more in Cosmic Reality? Now the Knight Jason And King rides from that garden tomb with Chokmâh (Wisdom) before all time in Cosmic Reality? You see Knight Jason sees Red Rose Petals falling from Heaven before her blessed feet in Cosmic Reality bringing The Love, The Passion Of The Love, Friendship and True Life before Her everywhere She goes in Cosmic Reality? The Rose Fragrance of Chokmâh (Wisdom) fills Cosmic Reality Itself with the Sweet Fragrance of Love and Life and The Fragrance fill's The Groom's And The Brides of Cosmic Reality Itself? This adds the sweet Rose Fragrance to the bridal chamber of bridal chambers in Cosmic Reality? The Knight Jason's symbol of love and romance is a single Red Rose to give this single Red Rose to his sister bride in Cosmic Reality? But Christ's Passion is this Romantic Love And Passion Overcomes death; this death is not to stop the anger of God falling on humanity from The Father and The Mother parts of God? But it is a unitive Substituted Love to bring unitive power and wisdom to craft together groom and bride again in Cosmic Reality? This is to bring unitive power and wisdom and craft together the duel flames of Adam and Eve in the bridal chamber again in Cosmic Reality? So Chokmâh (Wisdom) Crafts and Sews together The Wedding Garments of the Male and the Female Knights of the Unitive Kingdom of The Single One in Cosmic Reality? So human wedlock in the flesh is a symbol of a higher Cosmic type wedlock? So romantic love and human wedlock is the door way to the garden and the bridal chamber of chambers in Cosmic Reality? So the Romance and Passion of Christ is this, This is Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) of The Christ, This is Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) of The Christ, This is Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) of The Christ.
0
Jan 30, 2022
Jan 30, 2022 at 11:01 AM UTC
The Knight Of The Red Rose Crown!
So seeing at the feet of the cross was Mary Magdalene looking for one last time in her soul lover's eyes before the death of love (Eros?) But in the distance is the Gnosis Knight Jason watching this scene of utter Substituted Love - (Bearing one another's burdens) this Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) in action? The death of duality and the unitive power and wisdom of God; yes the bringing together in the bridal chamber of the groom and bride in loves Eros type death in cosmic reality? The Gnosis Knight Jason comes close to the cross smiles at Mary Magdalene and whispers do you see by my eyes Mary? I see two Christ's becoming Unitive in Jesus and his body, male and female? I see Chokmâh (Wisdom) also on the cross in death with her husband part of Christ? This is Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) of The Christ, This is Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) of The Christ, This is Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) of The Christ, So I see Chokmâh with a full Red Rose Crown on the temple of the Christ; this is on the blessed head of Jesus, the son of humanity? Then Jesus gives up the Eros (Romantic Love and Passion ) and dies? The sky turns black to say is LOVE (Eros, the Romantic Love and Passion) really dead? Then they take the body of Jesus to the garden tomb to plant the Rose Bush Seed of Love (Eros, Romantic Love and Passionate Love) in the earth for three days to grow into the fullness of Agape (Universal Love?) Then Mary Magdalene waits in the bridal chamber (human heart) she keeps the hope and knowing Love's Passion is stronger than death itself? The Gnosis Knight Jason is waiting to see his Queen Chokmâh (Wisdom) come from the garden tomb as well? Then on that blessed morning Mary Magdalene says the blessed words my Teacher? The rest of the story is known. But Gnosis Knight Jason sees a woman caring for a budding Rose bush and she turn's and smiles; yes Knight Jason; It is I the Queen part of Christ; Chokmâh (Wisdom) Herself? So The Queen Chokmâh (Wisdom) says to the Queen's Hand; the Knight Jason; it is I, Chokmâh (Wisdom) Herself Again? Because Her Knight Jason was shocked and never answered the first time? Because he thought she really is apart of The fullness of Christ Itself? Then the good Knight Jason answer's; I am not worthy to be your blessed hand my Queen? But the Queen lets her Knight give her a sweet kiss on her Blessed and Holy lips to make Knight Jason's unworthy lips clean again? So this sweet holy kiss to make his lips worthy and clean in Cosmic Reality? The Knight Jason replies - "Thus from my lips by thine my sin is purged."  Then the Knight Jason asks my Queen am I also begotten and reborn by the sweet loves holy kiss in Cosmic Reality? The Queen Smiles and says that is how the children of Wisdom are begotten in Cosmic Reality.  Then he kneels and she crown's her knight; a king of her unitive gospel of Wisdom and Life? Then Chokmâh (Wisdom) says She will give you a Red Rose Garland to grace your head and present you with a glorious Red Rose crown. The Bridal Chamber is now open for unitive Wisdom to enter into the blessed garden of the groom and bride once more in Cosmic Reality? Now the Knight Jason And King rides from that garden tomb with Chokmâh (Wisdom) before all time in Cosmic Reality? You see Knight Jason sees Red Rose Petals falling from Heaven before her blessed feet in Cosmic Reality bringing The Love, The Passion Of The Love, Friendship and True Life before Her everywhere She goes in Cosmic Reality? The Rose Fragrance of Chokmâh (Wisdom) fills Cosmic Reality Itself with the Sweet Fragrance of Love and Life and The Fragrance fill's The Groom's And The Brides of Cosmic Reality Itself? This adds the sweet Rose Fragrance to the bridal chamber of bridal chambers in Cosmic Reality? The Knight Jason's symbol of love and romance is a single Red Rose to give this single Red Rose to his sister bride in Cosmic Reality? But Christ's Passion is this Romantic Love And Passion Overcomes death; this death is not to stop the anger of God falling on humanity from The Father and The Mother parts of God? But it is a unitive Substituted Love to bring unitive power and wisdom to craft together groom and bride again in Cosmic Reality? This is to bring unitive power and wisdom and craft together the duel flames of Adam and Eve in the bridal chamber again in Cosmic Reality? So Chokmâh (Wisdom) Crafts and Sews together The Wedding Garments of the Male and the Female Knights of the Unitive Kingdom of The Single One in Cosmic Reality? So human wedlock in the flesh is a symbol of a higher Cosmic type wedlock? So romantic love and human wedlock is the door way to the garden and the bridal chamber of chambers in Cosmic Reality? So the Romance and Passion of Christ is this, This is Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) of The Christ, This is Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) of The Christ, This is Eros (Romantic Love and Passion) of The Christ.
Continue reading...
45
her morning pleasure occasionally actually exercised, a substituted delight for gym-going work with Lulu exercised, no man can, will ever, understand the nature/nurture debate over, in my mind resolved, nature, hands up and hands down RR's^  query, is god dead, no longer rumbles around in my head cause when he speaks, I can't get a word in edgewise what i did in the sixties, lost to time in memoriam, especially some really bad poetry but this gender differentiation a matter that Aristotle dutifully, so wisely, philosophically avoided there is no Socratic method rationality in what is just crazy insanely meiosis, there is no comprehension of the essence of  elemental genetic division, like the NY Mets, ya just gotta believe, or just accept but from the other side of the bed comes a surly, dry rejoinder, a gelled spike *thanks to modern science, why don't you come over to the right side, maybe then, you'll understand the true meaning of pleasure transgend your self, show your willingness per the bible, to be god's new and improved version of a human being* So, a pretty little, light A-line, with a summer floral pattern, a size 12, (20? *** I, will wear with great human pride, come June
0
Mar 12, 2017
Mar 12, 2017 at 11:20 AM UTC
dress shopping on-line, in bed, on a Sunday morn at 10:00am (just another love poem)
1. There’s an “e” in your name. 2. It’s also composes a syllable of it. 3. Things will always empty, no matter what. Even bottles, for example. Especially ones that contained alcohol. You seemed to enjoy emptying those quite a lot. 4. Once, I emptied a pen of it’s ink while writing about you. 5. There is no “e” in my first name, but you pronounced it as if there was, replacing the first “a” with an “e”. 6. I always, and still do, get annoyed whenever people mispronounce my name, but never when you did it. I always knew that you were the one calling it. You were the one thing I was always sure of. 7. The other night, I tried to think of other things that started with “e” and “a”. I found “always” and “eventually”. Just as you substituted the “e” for the “a”, we substituted “always” for “eventually”. 8. Or maybe it could stand for “eventually an alcoholic”? 9. I just wish that you could have emptied your heart out to us just as easily as you could empty a bottle down your throat. 10. Ever since you told us that you drove home drunk I’ve been thinking about writing an eulogy. 11. Please don’t make me write one. Not while we’re so young. 12. Eventually, everything expires, like our patience, our vitality, and our days. 13. You haven’t spoken to anyone in months, and I don’t know how to reach you, or if you even want me to. When I saw your mother this past October, I wanted to ask her if she knew had badly you had been struggling, but I didn’t because I know that you would have hated me for it. There was a reason you had tried to keep your addiction a secret. 14. The letter “e” is the most used letter in the alphabet. How can you ask me to forget you when nearly every word I write has a trace of you in it? 15. I would never pick up a pen again if it meant that I could hear you mispronounce my name one more time.
0
Jul 9, 2018
Jul 9, 2018 at 12:52 PM UTC
What the Letter “e” Makes Me Think Of
1. There’s an “e” in your name. 2. It’s also composes a syllable of it. 3. Things will always empty, no matter what. Even bottles, for example. Especially ones that contained alcohol. You seemed to enjoy emptying those quite a lot. 4. Once, I emptied a pen of it’s ink while writing about you. 5. There is no “e” in my first name, but you pronounced it as if there was, replacing the first “a” with an “e”. 6. I always, and still do, get annoyed whenever people mispronounce my name, but never when you did it. I always knew that you were the one calling it. You were the one thing I was always sure of. 7. The other night, I tried to think of other things that started with “e” and “a”. I found “always” and “eventually”. Just as you substituted the “e” for the “a”, we substituted “always” for “eventually”. 8. Or maybe it could stand for “eventually an alcoholic”? 9. I just wish that you could have emptied your heart out to us just as easily as you could empty a bottle down your throat. 10. Ever since you told us that you drove home drunk I’ve been thinking about writing an eulogy. 11. Please don’t make me write one. Not while we’re so young. 12. Eventually, everything expires, like our patience, our vitality, and our days. 13. You haven’t spoken to anyone in months, and I don’t know how to reach you, or if you even want me to. When I saw your mother this past October, I wanted to ask her if she knew had badly you had been struggling, but I didn’t because I know that you would have hated me for it. There was a reason you had tried to keep your addiction a secret. 14. The letter “e” is the most used letter in the alphabet. How can you ask me to forget you when nearly every word I write has a trace of you in it? 15. I would never pick up a pen again if it meant that I could hear you mispronounce my name one more time.
Continue reading...
15
There are too many days..... I cant do this many days. Too many days where darkness wins. Fate laughs endlessly. I am Fate's comedic performer and he laughs without end. Like a donkey behind a carrot I am led and with the rasp of a donkey's bray Fate's laughter rings in my ears. I don't think I can do this. Where joy is substituted by despair and happiness succumbs to death.... and the symphony of laughter is the tune. The strings on this puppet are frayed and worn but the puppeteer is relentless. How do you fix the strings of a puppet in motion? Who will catch the puppet if he falls? I can hear no answers above the laughter that rings in my ears and so this puppet on tattered strings dances on to the tune that Fate maintains. How long is a piece of string? It matters not if the string can carry no weight.
0
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 10:51 AM UTC
No Strings Attached
and not in that pathetic delusional fat girl kind of way, and not in the fact that he is corny. No, my boyfriend is like a corn-dog because there is a big layer of nutritionless fried spongey batter that covers his insides. That batter is made up of three level cups of nice. Which is not to be substituted with "honest" or "real". No, nice is the only ingredient that can produce such a meaningless spongey layer to cover up the "love" "sincerity" and "caring" that makes up the center. That golden brown skin enticed me. But, it is what is inside that gives me substance.
0
Jun 22, 2013
Jun 22, 2013 at 1:21 AM UTC
My boyfriend is a corn-dog,
Trees always have to go out with a bang, don't they explosions of bursting color freeze-framed fireworks of fall bursting and cascading, leaving ashes and hot coals to cool in soft grass ...I used bursting twice, didn't I? alright, let me go open up my thesaurus... blast? pop? rupture? just replace it with one of those and call it good. Back to the poem: my popped-collar peacoat straightens my back gotta match my posture to the pompous portrait black wool on an over-scratched scratch paper might as well just pick it all off allow the color some room to expand (I don't even own a peacoat, I just like the metaphor and imagery) you could set the sentinel alight for the same effect a more smokey atmosphere, sure, but the color would be a little brighter and I'd have the mushroom of smoke to match my coat I've substituted my earbuds with the crunch crunch crunch of leaves crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch –––– shoot that one looked good but it just flattened crunch crunch crunch invariable sound back to my Beats by Dr. Dre The arrow of geese points south ... that's really all I have to say about that some sort of metaphor about flapping my arms and following them? I like jacket weather though better stay grounded hands in pockets; arms in long sleeves insert some connection to death to match nature's descent into winter Gosh, this season is too good to stand for something so sad let's go jump off the roof into a pile of leaves drink hot soup and get cuffed watch steam and frost paint picturesque mornings read in a dogpile of blankets Winter may be coming but so is spring ya goof get off your melancholic horsey
0
Oct 12, 2018
Oct 12, 2018 at 12:10 AM UTC
Fall for the Facetious
Trees always have to go out with a bang, don't they explosions of bursting color freeze-framed fireworks of fall bursting and cascading, leaving ashes and hot coals to cool in soft grass ...I used bursting twice, didn't I? alright, let me go open up my thesaurus... blast? pop? rupture? just replace it with one of those and call it good. Back to the poem: my popped-collar peacoat straightens my back gotta match my posture to the pompous portrait black wool on an over-scratched scratch paper might as well just pick it all off allow the color some room to expand (I don't even own a peacoat, I just like the metaphor and imagery) you could set the sentinel alight for the same effect a more smokey atmosphere, sure, but the color would be a little brighter and I'd have the mushroom of smoke to match my coat I've substituted my earbuds with the crunch crunch crunch of leaves crunch crunch crunch crunch crunch –––– shoot that one looked good but it just flattened crunch crunch crunch invariable sound back to my Beats by Dr. Dre The arrow of geese points south ... that's really all I have to say about that some sort of metaphor about flapping my arms and following them? I like jacket weather though better stay grounded hands in pockets; arms in long sleeves insert some connection to death to match nature's descent into winter Gosh, this season is too good to stand for something so sad let's go jump off the roof into a pile of leaves drink hot soup and get cuffed watch steam and frost paint picturesque mornings read in a dogpile of blankets Winter may be coming but so is spring ya goof get off your melancholic horsey
Continue reading...
43
Don’t believe the sign that is clawed from another’s cave of a silly heart, onto some door in some beautiful garden on a special day. That scraped shine, that which opens wide the view for you and you remember as a sharp, etched slowly focusing glaze on your time was probably made with some key of some fool who regrets it now, no doubt, as you do. Nor should you believe another’s photograph of it and take it as yours, or the same, and think that this is what you were going to write your book about, one day, all along. That book was full of naïve wonders and melodies you paid too much attention to, anyway. So just allow what you love the most to be scrapped and substituted. Words are just words, you see. So what do you believe? The motionless things of a winter walk, I suppose. They are the kindest. They know not to talk to you, not to say anything you could possible believe.
0
Mar 27, 2012
Mar 27, 2012 at 5:54 PM UTC
Believing
If my life were a recipe I feel like every ingredient would be followed by the word "optional". 8 hours of sleep (optional) Two to three meals a day (optional) 1 social life (optional) 1 job (optional) A handful of friends (optional) A pinch of creativity (optional) One cup of laughter (optional) Three heaped tablespoons of positivity (optional) You get the idea. But you're different. You're the one ingredient I can't do without. You're the one thing that matters when I can't be bothered with the rest of it. When all the chopping and sautéing and boiling and grilling of everyday life seems like too much hassle, there's always enough time for you. You're my quick-fix meal on a weekday evening. You're a mid-morning snack snatched between errands. A quiet evening in on a Saturday with a bottle of wine and Joni Mitchell playing "I could drink a case of you". I could cook you every night. You're comfort food at its finest unpretentious, convenient. Never bland and never tiresome. You're the one ingredient I'll always have in stock, that one I'll never let myself run out of. Because you cannot be substituted. You, and only you, are not optional.
0
Mar 25, 2014
Mar 25, 2014 at 11:50 PM UTC
(Optional)
Have you felt like your life was incomplete like a fraction. Because from the human eye you see nothing but dissatisfaction. What's was your initial reaction? Did you take action or act in an orderly fashion. Just because you feel a mess doesnt mean you should walk in feebleness. Dont be stressed, Its only but a test To see where lies your faithfulness. From the moment you Opened your heart to The father and Confessed And commited your self, Surrendering to his will by simply saying Yes. He Said, "My daughter Rise, shine, and with the armor of God get dressed. For I have taken your brokenness to exchange it for your wholeness. Now Take the straight and narrow path of Righteousness. On this journey you will going through many things that you will have to examine and assess but I poured upon you my strong spirit of Tenaciousness. On the days you might feel the sensation of loneliness, just seek me and you shall find me and you shall be blessed. As you take this voyage The world will seem so dark and cold. That even Depression, doubt, and fear will try to put you in A stronghold." So Now I say to you, "My sister Don't you dare fold! you have to proclaim the word of God courageously bold. Let Jesus take the wheel and have complete control." Just as Peter said to Eneas I speak this message to your inner man called the soul, "Arise For Jesus Christ maketh thee Whole." God is using you as a vessel Because To him you very special The kind of special a Woman feels when wearing her wedding gown. You are the elegant jewels that shine intensely upon The Kings Golden Crown. You are not inclusive. But Rather Exclusive just as a guitar that's acoustic The sound of its music can be very therapeutic. like a seed that has been planted in the soil deeply rooted. Dont let devil in your life to pollute it. Just like Jesus We have to be prosecuted Because we took on the his spirit for ours  substituted. Remember we are spiritual beings in the the body of fleshy men. As long as you Let Jesus be your LPN you will be complete in him Says the book of Colossians chapter 2 verse ten. You got to have faith believer and walk the talk. Just as Jesus said to a lame man I say yoi to you too, "Get up! Pick up your mat and walk. In reference to The book of John chapter 5 verse 6. You are never too broken To be fix as along as you Got God in the mix! Make It A goal for The most High to purify your heart mind body and soul So that in him you will be a brand new creature made whole.
0
Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 1:10 PM UTC
Be Made Whole
Have you felt like your life was incomplete like a fraction. Because from the human eye you see nothing but dissatisfaction. What's was your initial reaction? Did you take action or act in an orderly fashion. Just because you feel a mess doesnt mean you should walk in feebleness. Dont be stressed, Its only but a test To see where lies your faithfulness. From the moment you Opened your heart to The father and Confessed And commited your self, Surrendering to his will by simply saying Yes. He Said, "My daughter Rise, shine, and with the armor of God get dressed. For I have taken your brokenness to exchange it for your wholeness. Now Take the straight and narrow path of Righteousness. On this journey you will going through many things that you will have to examine and assess but I poured upon you my strong spirit of Tenaciousness. On the days you might feel the sensation of loneliness, just seek me and you shall find me and you shall be blessed. As you take this voyage The world will seem so dark and cold. That even Depression, doubt, and fear will try to put you in A stronghold." So Now I say to you, "My sister Don't you dare fold! you have to proclaim the word of God courageously bold. Let Jesus take the wheel and have complete control." Just as Peter said to Eneas I speak this message to your inner man called the soul, "Arise For Jesus Christ maketh thee Whole." God is using you as a vessel Because To him you very special The kind of special a Woman feels when wearing her wedding gown. You are the elegant jewels that shine intensely upon The Kings Golden Crown. You are not inclusive. But Rather Exclusive just as a guitar that's acoustic The sound of its music can be very therapeutic. like a seed that has been planted in the soil deeply rooted. Dont let devil in your life to pollute it. Just like Jesus We have to be prosecuted Because we took on the his spirit for ours  substituted. Remember we are spiritual beings in the the body of fleshy men. As long as you Let Jesus be your LPN you will be complete in him Says the book of Colossians chapter 2 verse ten. You got to have faith believer and walk the talk. Just as Jesus said to a lame man I say yoi to you too, "Get up! Pick up your mat and walk. In reference to The book of John chapter 5 verse 6. You are never too broken To be fix as along as you Got God in the mix! Make It A goal for The most High to purify your heart mind body and soul So that in him you will be a brand new creature made whole.
Continue reading...
45
The tortoise has began To sniff aloud impatiently, Causing the *** full of Palm-wine to burst into flames, But the bat can only Think of himself as a bird, Let the yam tendril Grow rapidly in this season, For this matey idea Engenders glowing nightmares, Now know this, The sacrifices of palm-wine Cannot be substituted with water, For your departure has caused Me to sleep with the magic owl, Oh yes, hear the sparrow Singing your conventional song, Listen dear, listen! Listen and quicken the precious Beads on your convex hips, So that my heavy heart Can behold her boisterousness, Even though good beads Do not speak in public, Indeed, the machete has Fallen on the wrong victim, For I left the chicken undisguised, And the ravenous hawk Took an instinctive care of it, ***** dear, ***** ***** all your pain Into the thirsty calabash, For I have evinced A strong desire to be Reconciled with your love, So, let our imperturbable love Unfold as the implacable day unfolds, Obaahemaa Nyarkowaa, The mother of my heart, Please forgive my dumb insolence, For I acted out of love. © PRINCE NANA ANIN-AGYEI Email: [email protected]
0
Apr 8, 2013
Apr 8, 2013 at 6:46 AM UTC
THE IRONY OF LOVE
the shadow picks a nice path on your face; across planes, in wells I never drank from, on a pink bud from which I stole sugar instead of tasting. Where words slipped I thieved, not kissed. shadow hovers as a bee searching for pollen in darkness. It loves all the places I missed because I substituted French phrases for your limbs; spoke to your light in a language I didn't quite know yet but sounded like like the poetry found in light's absence.
0
Sep 8, 2015
Sep 8, 2015 at 1:21 PM UTC
Trajectory
telling too many terrible twisted tales running riders right off resistant rails selling sailors sailboats without sails flipping forbidden findings til it flails bending bedlam beast of burdens bound killing king kind is kindly crowned selling seats to such sights and sound feeling the fallen fears are found vending voracious vindictive vices paying predictable pragmatic prices selling substituted selected slices drumming on dormant distant devices
0
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 2:51 AM UTC
TwiSteD TaLeS
You're good to go. Smile and talk like the perfect host Of a happy crowd, inebriated Vapid, inane, upperclass professionals Play nice, your mind is a cage Chainsaws and stretch racks dance in your head Fantasies of impending doom, But alas~ this cannot be Fear and shame, fear and shame You are a changeling. Secretly substituted for a real girl at birth Alone in a crowded room Fey don't eat Fey don't sleep The perpetual curse of wakefulness Only desiring to sleep forever Walking dead, one thing brings you joy Free fall, kindle the fire Endorphins and fun chemicals "The difference between medicine and poison is in the dose" In this case, your poison Is a cold cement bridge Early morning snowfall And tempting waters blow below. Eternity passes And then you become one with the ******* titanic. Float back to the fairies, my dear.
0
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 11:03 PM UTC
Happy birthday II
We had a shelf life, an existence that we played like a broken fiddle, out of tune... But now every string is either broken, worn beyond its reproductive rhythm. Were not creating vibrant versions. Just broken, collages that are just not a complexity more a diluted, infertile copy broken and substituted never to be the real thing.. humanity is just a fading shadow, fading under the unrelenting sun of reality....
0
Apr 3, 2021
Apr 3, 2021 at 6:02 AM UTC
Where A Shadow In Direct Sunlight
I've read far too much psychiatry - Now knowing from ear to there Many mysterious processes That make one's mind blink - Acute chemical reactions, Therapeutic medications... But academic texts In their dryness Seem to lose Life's realness, Why we think As we do. That ***** That comes loose To throw one off course Could not be all chemistry. So academically written are words To those authors who don't live them. I'd rather imagine some error of cooking - That tarragon substituted for basil Or marjoram instead of sage Gave that strange taste To the sauce of my life That salt could not Cover over. A wife Imbalanced Wasn't my choice As young lovers married. Yet in time I heard the voice Mimicking demons, evil in cycles. Excused and forgiven as nature's vice At first - then when wrath affected children... A man can only accept his own scars As the consequences of his living, Entered into wide-eyed, willing. By knife's nicks I've survived, Callused skin is tougher. But to save the tender I think I'll give up Cooking. Insanity isn't contagious As go diseases, But as butter It does Spread
0
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 6:09 PM UTC
Cycle of Life
"Fi-li-o-pi-e-tism" *Noun: An often excessive veneration of ancestors or tradition such that new ideas are generally discouraged, often via punishment, and conformity is strictly enforced.* *-The Monkey Lesson- In 1967, a psychological experiment was conducted on rhesus monkeys:* Five  monkeys (A, B, C, D, E) in a room with a ladder, upon which are bananas. As any given monkey climbs the ladder for the food, the rest are sprayed down with cold water. Eventually, the monkeys learn to punish the one who climbs to preclude discomfort for the group. One monkey (A) is then swapped out for a new one (1) that hasn't gotten the cold shower. As 1 inevitably strives for the bananas, monkeys B, C, D, and E immediately punish. Another monkey (B) is swapped out for a new one (2) that tries for the bananas and 1, C, D, and E punish. A third monkey is substituted (3) and not knowing of the original circumstance reaches for food. 1, 2, D, and E drop the hammer. A fourth is introduced (4) in place of another original member (D), and the beatings continue from 1, 2, 3, and E. Finally the fifth is substituted (5) in place of the final original member (E), and the group (1, 2, 3, 4) keeps up the trend of assault. The result is a group of monkeys that never received the cold water treatment that still continued to castigate any individual that tried to climb the ladder for the food.
0
Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 6:54 AM UTC
Filiopietism
Can you tell me what's it: All the beautiful feelings I use to have flopped down, Have buried themselves on their hands, Please - Can you tell me what's it, all the people I use to love , now , Know are gone , Homeless I feel. What is it? With all these words of beauty are substituted by the venoms, Now I feel like everything is a norm. Can you tell me? Why I fail to attain my solid state, I melt down with this burning flame I have took hell from afar to me What there is the hell with me? Please - *God take my li... **** the prayer I pray lately- I am scared of this pain, How am I going to be able to handle death I uttered an idiocy. What is it? *No one wanna stay and talk for awhile maybe the mist will clear* My heart have took it course to other sad side of the sea, Tryna clean itself of the red. Can you tell me what is it? With the sad songs recorded lyrics written and cancelled- can't describe the issues of heart. All the ease are the demons but the Godly seems fairly hard to follow Can you tell me what is it? Why the pen have became so familiar of every freaked out letter I write for it write non-stop . But still dead I feel. What is it? ...
0
Nov 4, 2019
Nov 4, 2019 at 4:46 AM UTC
What is it?
Thoughts racing Faster faster Until they meet A beautiful disaster Open conclusions Creating an illusion Vanishing doubt For a moment Diffusion Reality becomes diluted Dreams are substituted In order to hear The world must be muted Silence Tune out the violence Mindlessly thinking Treading contradictions To keep from sinking Ideas constantly interlinking Forming thoughts Which is where I'm caught Trying to decipher what is From what's not
0
Mar 8, 2011
Mar 8, 2011 at 4:15 PM UTC
beautiful disaster
Was I created by the same God That created this beautiful creature? I asked myself. If she is a living being, What does that make me? I asked myself. Her angelic features, substituted all The perfect and precious pictures in my mind. For a brief moment I thought I was healed from being blind. Touching her hips, felt like kissing Her juicy lips… Her figures makes a dumb person to Shout “Jesus” And I call them “the figures of speech” I call her buhle… Her glittering eyes simulates the Reflection of the sun in the Skies and seas. She is the most precious stone In the entire galaxy. And i call her buhle… Yena muhle shame Maaka a dirang Her nose so sharp like it could Scratch my brown skin when We kiss and leave a lovely scar Right next to my chin. I could tell by just a sniff She is heading my way when She is still afar… Her teeth so white as snow… She makes me rush when I am slow… Steering at her, Feels like watching my favourite show… For a matter of fact, She is my favourite show… I do not call her like they do They call her… Sweet lom’khuhlane Some call her… Seponono sa dikoti marameng Mmago ditshaba, moferehla moikutlo. Ke ra yena mma kgosi wa bokone Bophirima legaeng la maswi le mamapo A dinosi The mother of all heavens on earth But I call her Buhle
0
May 31, 2017
May 31, 2017 at 2:33 AM UTC
Buhle
I've substituted One dysfunctional PAIN For one That's immensely Productive Using the cold Sharp Blade to Slice my skin Wide open To let the Hot Blood gush Free Leaving lumpy Atrocious Scars That hold Discouraging Memories Will never happen again Because I've become Addicted to Permanently Sewing ink Into my body To Display an image Of who I am Inside Show it On the outside Like a canvas Of abstract compositions Equal repercussions But A positive Release of emotions I do not regret Any Of the permanent markings On my skin But I am Proud To have found Such a rewarding Alternative For if I did not go And get The words of my conscious Sewn across my chest I would Still be Sitting on the Floor Carving names Into my flesh Leaving hideous Wounds By crossing Them out One painful Accomplishing Addition After another Leaves me with An emotion That's full of relief A proud Uplifting energy To build optimism Something that Won't cause Tears To stain my face When looked back upon Something that I can be absolute About Something that I don't have to Hide from people Something that I can Show off And express Myself Openly Something that Holds nostalgic Memories To bring Not tears of sadness But tears Of pure Bliss
0
May 23, 2013
May 23, 2013 at 10:19 PM UTC
*Tattoos
Who’s everyone talking to? I thought by now true consciousness would transcend the me generation The zero’s have already passed and we hide our minds behind our darting eyes Each of us unto ourselves as creativity has been substituted for sampled reality boredom Plastic sheets of electronic thought arrangement made to order Recycled hero’s priced beyond the dreams of street urchins Imagination unplugged as shock is delivered to your carpal tunnel fingers Glancing at reality to measure the distance between metal before returning to civilizations ruins Did you hear a word I said? I told you that I love you I told you about a problem that I had But the scroll widened to the edges of attention deficit view It's just as well that you didn't know what happened while you drank yourself into oblivion Your addictions were planned in past decades by people who now buy islands They laugh at how they made robots out of beating hearts And you continue to let another ten years pass because the gun was taken from their hands I wish my face to be in your hands To see the excitement in your eyes as flesh and nerves are rediscovered Maybe you can call me and I will answer as our fears are sheltered by a touch screen And if our feet happen to collide we will see how the human touch is not to be wired
0
Jun 27, 2012
Jun 27, 2012 at 11:56 PM UTC
Digital Generation