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"tannery" poems
It is funny to see banners wishing Happiness displayed with cinematic glamour, the pictures and hordings of Banner heroes. The one at Tannery Road junction was peculiar to mention. Here it was common The captions "Happy" used to summon names of sundry festivals-Local  and national, even internstional. What's uncommon was the bold prints of a hero's name ARUMALAI outshining The caption and his larger than life picture establishing the photographer's digital brushing skills. A passer by wondered who'd be this Arumalai, Is he so great as to be advertised in polivynil? His glorious deeds may be what they want you to heed Still never ever seen or heard of his manners Anywhere than in these motley banners Just as a function at the Tannery road junction Each one passed by this colossal glance attracted provoking  protracted ruminance what do this expensive banners really mean? In another occasion the  glaring glorifying picture of ARUMALAI followed the tag Corporator, Below the man posing a DICTATOR. That was a period to a period of mystery! Banners changed with seasons with greetings on religious occasions Festivals of importance Birthdays of men even with crowded profiles of hailers Whose unrully manners Too clogging up the banners Like a wanted list of jailors. One day a strange banner hooked by the Tannery cross over Spooked and shocked every passer-by There the usual banner cut out the larger than life image blings-out Arumalai the BBMB corporator Posing as dictator! There was no wish of any kind. It was a notice startling any mind The sad demise of ARUMALAI The BBMB corporator Still possed as dectator By his living promoters. "He was sick and the local dispensary advised a minor operation. He was administered the necessary treatment. Was referred to a super-speciality centre and was declared dead. His sad demise was advertised, he was forty. His chummies complained of medical negligence", was the only news summary in major news papers... What was the reason for the minor surgery What're the preparations for the corporator's  operation All are mystery for a  causal itinerary passer by crossing over the Tannery Road junction, wondering at the strange envountering with banners that come and go Keeping no annals Floating on the mind for a while Stopping at the red's knell, Moving with the green signal The rise and fall of heroes As binary one and zero The banners tell a story tertiary Of the rise and fall of a luninary Within a plane ofmomentary Variation of red and green On the Tannery road's screen.
0
Dec 7, 2018
Dec 7, 2018 at 5:13 AM UTC
BANNER HEROES
It is funny to see banners wishing Happiness displayed with cinematic glamour, the pictures and hordings of Banner heroes. The one at Tannery Road junction was peculiar to mention. Here it was common The captions "Happy" used to summon names of sundry festivals-Local  and national, even internstional. What's uncommon was the bold prints of a hero's name ARUMALAI outshining The caption and his larger than life picture establishing the photographer's digital brushing skills. A passer by wondered who'd be this Arumalai, Is he so great as to be advertised in polivynil? His glorious deeds may be what they want you to heed Still never ever seen or heard of his manners Anywhere than in these motley banners Just as a function at the Tannery road junction Each one passed by this colossal glance attracted provoking  protracted ruminance what do this expensive banners really mean? In another occasion the  glaring glorifying picture of ARUMALAI followed the tag Corporator, Below the man posing a DICTATOR. That was a period to a period of mystery! Banners changed with seasons with greetings on religious occasions Festivals of importance Birthdays of men even with crowded profiles of hailers Whose unrully manners Too clogging up the banners Like a wanted list of jailors. One day a strange banner hooked by the Tannery cross over Spooked and shocked every passer-by There the usual banner cut out the larger than life image blings-out Arumalai the BBMB corporator Posing as dictator! There was no wish of any kind. It was a notice startling any mind The sad demise of ARUMALAI The BBMB corporator Still possed as dectator By his living promoters. "He was sick and the local dispensary advised a minor operation. He was administered the necessary treatment. Was referred to a super-speciality centre and was declared dead. His sad demise was advertised, he was forty. His chummies complained of medical negligence", was the only news summary in major news papers... What was the reason for the minor surgery What're the preparations for the corporator's  operation All are mystery for a  causal itinerary passer by crossing over the Tannery Road junction, wondering at the strange envountering with banners that come and go Keeping no annals Floating on the mind for a while Stopping at the red's knell, Moving with the green signal The rise and fall of heroes As binary one and zero The banners tell a story tertiary Of the rise and fall of a luninary Within a plane ofmomentary Variation of red and green On the Tannery road's screen.
Continue reading...
68
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
A Rose of Sharon
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Continue reading...
52
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, I am loved by the one who made me, Loved unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive, that shows up in the cracks, Of your well beaten paths. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, For failing to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, In its flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest I am secure and calm. From your bitterness that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free, Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:07 PM UTC
A Rose of Sharon
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, I am loved by the one who made me, Loved unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive, that shows up in the cracks, Of your well beaten paths. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, For failing to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, In its flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest I am secure and calm. From your bitterness that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free, Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Continue reading...
52
The water was further away when I was a boy and the land it was much longer jutting out into Sacandaga like the lone remaining tooth in the smile of an old tannery worker Now, the tooth worn away by years of spring waves and thick winter ice, the land is more a nub than a point but many things are the same the early morning call of a bird through fog a fish splashing through his sky to ours then returning to his car doors and the sounds of the marina coming alive the unsyncopated drum beat of coolers and tackle boxes being dropped into an aluminum rowboat then strained sounds as an outboard motor pushes its load through the water which was further away when I was a boy
0
Aug 13, 2012
Aug 13, 2012 at 3:29 PM UTC
Further Away Sacandaga
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, I am loved by the one who made me, Loved unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive, that shows up in the cracks, Of your well beaten paths. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, For failing to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free, Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:17 PM UTC
A Rose of Sharon
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, I am loved by the one who made me, Loved unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive, that shows up in the cracks, Of your well beaten paths. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, For failing to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will the enslaved and captive soul fly free, Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Continue reading...
52
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:35 PM UTC
A Rose of Sharon
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Continue reading...
52
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:33 PM UTC
Untitled
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of the well-beaten paths of hatred, you frequent. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Continue reading...
52
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
0
Sep 27, 2012
Sep 27, 2012 at 2:37 PM UTC
Untitled
I am the **** in your pristine garden, Hidden between the Hollyhocks and Petunias, Unwanted, I lift my head high, Invasive, pervasive, you hate me. You spray me with emotional roundup. You wish I would simply go away Crushed under your foot yesterday, I wilted under your hate. Resurrected by the creators love, In joy I dance to his music, That floats on the wind. I am a rose of Sharon, Planted firmly in the dirt. Hated by you for just being, The one who made me loves me, He loves me unconditionally. Planted in the wilderness, Where he walks in search Of those who seek his name. If you see me know that, he is near. Yet you hate me for being the **** Invasive that shows up in the cracks, Of your frequent well-beaten paths of hatred. You stomp on me, mangled I lie still. Revived by my God who loves me. Someday he will do justice, Someday he will show them mercy, Them that failed to love his creation. He animates me an earthen vessel, With emotions triggered by fluid actions, His loving smile, His tender touch, In his love and goodness, I find joy. The joy that effuses and rises to my brain, Like a flooding sea of contentment, Knowing that in him I have rest, I am secure and calm. From your bitterness, that floods my feet, He produces exquisite flowers and sweetest fruits. Freely I give the love I receive, As fragrance it wafts on the breeze, Used to the smell of death and dying, The Tanner smelling the fragrance of Love and Life faints. They revive him with curing leather from the tannery. Someday the tanner will appreciate fragrance, Someday the night shift miner appreciate the light, Someday those that cry for war will love peace, Someday those that hate others learn to love. Someday those that clang pots and pans in raucous cacophony, Will find peace and quiet in his sweet rhapsodies and quiet melodies. And the promoters of the ugliest of ugliness, Love the beauty of God's creation. Some day will this enslaved and captive soul fly free? Forever free in the plains of Eternity.
Continue reading...
52
Life, as with all Beings impregnated Hamper these Virtues for those Teens delayed To which we remind; In Growth compensated Handy-Spread Vices from Feelings displayed Perhaps from which - shun such Bloke-Haste Advice Having spoiled these Inner Credentials since What-Not? What-For? Skin that Crumpy Device - Cross-dress Cat's Tannery to Barrows hence: What this means - Sentinels - or Football-Humps Even with Morals does enrich the Need To hear a Lumper; Then post-date with mumps Part-and-Parcel take Learning from a Seed. This, after all, your Labels from Friends fear Fortify your Codes; To Values they hear.
0
Mar 22, 2013
Mar 22, 2013 at 7:51 PM UTC
SONNET TRIBUTE PENANCE: WILLIAM DALEY AND BENJAMIN DALEY - SOUL
As local as shoe leather, though laced a little differently I still feel the pull of aul boody, aul boy, a voice of ancient things this impossible centre of England with the flow of Plantagenet of Watling of Nene and Welland where nothing happens but everything has rich in silver willow and tannery stink still giving cause to think, to feel Clare’s fears as the inexorable tarmac is laid and each day passed as the hedged wren and dunnock begin to explain green and pleasant pains
0
Jul 26, 2021
Jul 26, 2021 at 10:59 AM UTC
Rose of the shires
the idea left us dancing. use what is already there, make do and mend, linen threads hang heavy, needles preserved. small holes ready. shall we mend the rags, or pin them onto wool pads ready for discovery. these are the planning days, the filming ways, of lifts and wild imagininings. the tabernacle wales. the tannery. sbm.
0
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 12:10 AM UTC
.boxed sets.
The words flock together   and stretch on the frame Their meaning runs over,   still wet from the pain The canvas is porous,   the easel maligned The curtains blow outward,   faces calling in mime The streets all a-chatter,    it was Paris in spring And striving to look busy,   the most important of things Looking back at my window,   above the tannery so high A shadow stares back   —and I flee in disguise (Villanova Pennsylvania: June, 2016)
0
Apr 6, 2019
Apr 6, 2019 at 11:16 AM UTC
Prisoner Of Disguise
The town tucks itself into its hoodie which for arguments sake we'll call a valley and up atop the surrounding hills where Victoria still lives by the spindles are those magnificent crouching monsters of houses which dwell half in the moonlight and half in the light of day. I had my fill of cappuccino in the faux cotton mill and slogged my way through gawking tourists to the the old tannery yards passing by the second hand shops where history was being sold cut price, Meat pie sandwiches as my brother says is what bread was made for, not being sure about this I ****** on some Kendal Mint Cake and still looking for 'Spanish Gold' I came across Tiger Nuts (remember them?) I can remember when my teeth numbered more than the nuts in a penny bag. Aren't these what we are made from? layers of where we came from. sandwiched memories.
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Aug 9, 2017
Aug 9, 2017 at 10:01 AM UTC
Up North