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"unrighteousness" poems
The crown of my unrighteousness pierced Thy skull, And drops of blood flowed into the veins of Thy brain, Quite often I please the ruler of the flesh, But all my ways ripped the heart of the Redeemer. Thou wert stripped when I am shrouded with iniquities, Thou wert spit when I choose the fleshly acts, Thou wert scorned for my fruitless words, My sins of pleasure nailed Thy palms on the Cross. Intermittently I let the spirit of evil into my soul, And how often Thou wert lashed by filthy transactions, Thou wert kicked with the filth of my boot, With my heart of pride Thou wert slapped. Thou hast created me and all within; Yet Thy Love for Thine made the Way with Thy humility.
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Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 10:40 AM UTC
Thy Love, Thy Humility
One scarlet tear, makes it clear which drops from her cheek to the ground which burns away as acid, toxic, became lifeless in an instant Emotions of any kind, are to ruin ones mind, ones soul from something more beautiful, clean and without any malicious intent, Ruining what's best in us, corrupting inner peace with disturbance, Free from bonds or feelings one would live alike the the moon; Elusive, with a cycle which turns and decides to recycles once again, But what would be a life, free from the trouble of emotions, heartache pain and agaony, happiness and glee with experiencess worth more than a soul could ask for, wish to be repeated, forming what is YOU, Would it be a curse ? A blessing ? Would it be wise to purify onesself, All these questions remain unanswered, as the world spirals it's transient, lifely joyful axis around our golden shining star, the sun, Purity comes sinfree, cut from temptations of every meaningful term, Then it would mean to give up anything, everything in solace, simply to remain free from an act or even a thought of unrighteousness, Empathy would be lost in a purgatory of pure furies which knows no heart, or mercy for this matter, a life spend alone is an answer to this, Oh servant, will you burn away like the flower in the heat of summer by achieving this purity you strive for just to call yourself better ? After all, the joy of emotions is for all to experience After all the love of light is for all to bear ~ Umi
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Mar 20, 2018
Mar 20, 2018 at 8:46 PM UTC
Refinement of Impurity
Expect miracles every minute Not. Go away children if you want Uplifting, This is a dark adventure Composition. Gloomy the mood, Gorgeous the day, You have received my disclaimer, Scurry away. I scribe smoke that is uncontainable, Smoke that suffocates, not for decoration. You are the unrighteousness, not on the list, Peekaboo voyeurs who read and dismiss. Why I pen this or this. Lost in the shuffling cards, Luck is not inexhaustible, Mine, bottled in the bin labelled, The last recycling. Dark is the blue sky, White clouds just clothing to disguise Morose is the vision, Of eyes that have not seen a miracle In decades of waiting. Let us divorce today, Find good cheer and company elsewhere. From my finger these words fall freely, No waiting, from me to you instantaneously. What ails thee smoke scribe? I have given and been taken, leeched and bled and now wasted the last of my Nine lives. This is where I stand, edged and ledged, Miracles are not shown to me anymore. My quota, used, I'm not us-confused, Cause I wrote the disclaimer, The warnings, the risks, well understood. Write of the good, the bad, of the Beautiful that does not last, Wonder if this is the poem shall be my Epitaph? Poetry craft, was the sword I breathed thru, Unlike you, my motet is completed, The music, the canon smoke, here, come, then Gone.
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Sep 22, 2013
Sep 22, 2013 at 7:30 AM UTC
Expect miracles every minute, Not. (Sept. 2013)
A delicate crimson rose endures The snow and winds of winter's grasp And closes up and wilts a while Until Summer sun it finds at last In this world of unrighteousness Where brutes and ogres' egos roam And selfishness abounds like weeds She exists in shattered form With silent seething disilusion And saddened, unrequited love Maddened by the unjust acts of those who advertized their “love” A vain and self-indulgent god Did sieze himself her mind and oath Presiding as the demons do In hidden acts pronounced as gross Enduring the madness of matriarchs And the hostility of tribal gang Where smiles of familial welcoming Turned into savage, jealous fangs Yet though the bitterness seeps through And anger permeates her skin Sweet dignity she still retains And devotion stll resides within Her adornment incorruptible Her spirit mild and resolute Did not return evil for evil But stood and conquered it with good Happy is she who has endured And in mild subjection did remain Showing honour to a painful degree To bring honour to Jehovah's name And though she stumbled in despair Yet withstood for righteous sake Her loyalty, the beast could not sever Nor divine concsience could he break For like the rose at winter's end That bears a striking sharpened thorn Her petals still are soft and pure And her soul with beauty still adorned For the righteous one who sees all things And whose love she yet retains Will never for eternity forget The love she showed for his great name And should she reach out and beseech And trust his salvation once again She would know with certainty He has never let go her hand (For my precious daughter, Cheryl, who has been to hell and back)
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May 3, 2020
May 3, 2020 at 1:19 PM UTC
The Rose in Winter
A delicate crimson rose endures The snow and winds of winter's grasp And closes up and wilts a while Until Summer sun it finds at last In this world of unrighteousness Where brutes and ogres' egos roam And selfishness abounds like weeds She exists in shattered form With silent seething disilusion And saddened, unrequited love Maddened by the unjust acts of those who advertized their “love” A vain and self-indulgent god Did sieze himself her mind and oath Presiding as the demons do In hidden acts pronounced as gross Enduring the madness of matriarchs And the hostility of tribal gang Where smiles of familial welcoming Turned into savage, jealous fangs Yet though the bitterness seeps through And anger permeates her skin Sweet dignity she still retains And devotion stll resides within Her adornment incorruptible Her spirit mild and resolute Did not return evil for evil But stood and conquered it with good Happy is she who has endured And in mild subjection did remain Showing honour to a painful degree To bring honour to Jehovah's name And though she stumbled in despair Yet withstood for righteous sake Her loyalty, the beast could not sever Nor divine concsience could he break For like the rose at winter's end That bears a striking sharpened thorn Her petals still are soft and pure And her soul with beauty still adorned For the righteous one who sees all things And whose love she yet retains Will never for eternity forget The love she showed for his great name And should she reach out and beseech And trust his salvation once again She would know with certainty He has never let go her hand (For my precious daughter, Cheryl, who has been to hell and back)
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49
Confessing to God I am a sinner LORD, every steps I take, I commit a sin. Every word I speak, I commit a sin. Every thoughts in my mind, I commit a sin. I repent, I sin again. A thousand times I have failed Yet, so merciful is The Lord, *“ For great is Your mercy towards me, And You have delivered my soul from the depths of Sheol”* Each steps I take, i commit a sin. I am so weak, still Jesus loves me. *“For sin shall not have dominion over you, For you are not under law but under grace.”* Each word I speak, i commit a sin. I am so weak, still Jesus loves me. *“For when we were still without strength, In due time Christ died for the ungodly.”* So now, I take an oath. *“Surely my lips shall not speak unrighteousness, Neither shall my tongue utter deceit.”* *“Therefore my heart rejoiced, And my tongue was glad;”* Each thoughts in my mind, i commit a sin. I am so weak, still Jesus loves me. I kneel before You and praise You, *"For we know that the law is spiritual, but i am carnal, sold under sin."* Confessing to the Lord I am a sinner. “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” But now I am saved through Christ our Lord. For “whoever calls on the name of the Lord shall be saved.” *“Blessed is the man who trusts in You!” “Blessed be the Lord forevermore! Amen and Amen”*
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Aug 18, 2015
Aug 18, 2015 at 7:27 AM UTC
Merciful FATHER
The flesh lusts daily against the Spirit and the Spirit wars contrary to the flesh. The opposing tenets of grace and iniquity can never with each other… completely mesh. For the redeemed sinners operate by grace, while the practitioners of unrighteousness prefer the dark, ungodly ways of wickedness and will not inherit the Kingdom’s fullness. Fleshly works are clearly evident: adultery, fornication, idolatry, sorcery, uncleanness, contentions, jealousies, ****** immorality, hatred, envy, revelries and evil-mindedness. Fruits of the sinful flesh are plain to see and spirits cringe- at their being mentioned. Can we expect others to pursue God’s holiness, when people are upset- from being questioned? For we live under God’s grace and not His Law; His righteous wrath will be eventually revealed. Acceptance of His gift of Salvation can insure… that our lives will have been redeemed and sealed! . . . Author Notes: Loosely based on: Gal 5:16; Rom 1:18-32, 2:1-16 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
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Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 5:12 PM UTC
Poem: Pursuit of Holiness
Deceiver, desiring only to ensnare another, in webs of selfishness. Thief, lurking , luring innocent victims into the pit of darkness. Murderer , robber, you smile believing to have conquered any doubt with lies thicker than honey. Priceless moments of life led astray by trickery , laid upon chambers of the innocent heart Slowly, slowly, murderous betrayer, fulfilling an ego with self love that will forever be unsatisfied. Experienced trappers should be aware, not to allow their feet to stumble in a trap set for others. Wickedness befriending the liar, balance the scales, ravenously tearing breathing flesh from their bones. Till nothing is left , nothing, but the shell of insatiable unrighteousness
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Apr 2, 2013
Apr 2, 2013 at 6:57 PM UTC
The Liars Fate
Love, night, bodies, world, eyes, Darkness, lust, life, belong, shine Losing, time, Lord, death, grave, heart, Helpless, hope, weep, bleeding Agony, devil, embrace, souls, yearn, Escape, awaken, lies, smile, light Irrelevant, breathing, die, lips, kiss, Illuminating, feared, everlasting Unrighteousness, hatred, desired, Christ, disgust, ever-changing Grace, insanity, lingering, sinner, Ailing, lurking, weakening, savior Desperation, facade, knives, flaws, Infected, evade, corrupting   Temptation, forgive, repent, Contorting, unbreakable, incapability Bewildered, demon, pain, lost, Hopeless, dream, aching, shattered God, truth, impossible, despise, drowning, Shame, sparks, destroy, longing, flawless These are my words But is anybody ******* listening?
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Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 9:32 PM UTC
Words
A broken lock equals an open mind. An open mind equals a temporary peace of heart. I constantly write in riddles and lines that will never rhyme, that most will probably never read. In my subconscious I relentlessly attempt a Resurrection of civil engagements with an uncivil mind. My internal demeanor never abandons a detail, a key worth remembering and a lock that will always sway to and fro in a shanty boat that is inconsistently worthless and valuable. It will never dock, it will never be entirely worth the stress or the time it would take to tie and secure a ship of that size and quality, or lack thereof. There exists ulterior motives that Miss blonde esteem is seemingly not even aware of, or like her prior, accepts ignorance as a temporary escape until the uncivil mind returns civil. The fact is this. The uncivil mind was never civil, and may as well never be. Locks can be repaired, even when the thief begs for no replacement. What makes the thief the uncivil enemy? Has it ever occurred to any soul, that a thief is only stealing away precious moments that are rightfully his, that circumstances and uncivilized minds have locked away in a pitch black that they cannot call their own night? There surely has been an uncanny instance when the locksmith swiftly turned about to find his prior gazing at him in the golden grooves of the trap. The thieving of one’s own mind, to break a lock enchanted by the uncivil mind, should be easily empathized and understood. But alas, curly blonde esteem will forever submit under the spell of the uncivil mind, who will only cast a shadow upon itself and its priors. It will be remembered in the scent of cigarettes, where it will also be displaced. It will be avoided in the unrighteousness of a friend’s bed in another family’s house, where a respirator and the oxygen tubes intertwining the threshold no longer exist; neither do the white sheets. There will never again be an absence of music behind the actions committed between the uncivil mind and the civil heart.
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Jun 13, 2013
Jun 13, 2013 at 1:27 AM UTC
Birth date.
A broken lock equals an open mind. An open mind equals a temporary peace of heart. I constantly write in riddles and lines that will never rhyme, that most will probably never read. In my subconscious I relentlessly attempt a Resurrection of civil engagements with an uncivil mind. My internal demeanor never abandons a detail, a key worth remembering and a lock that will always sway to and fro in a shanty boat that is inconsistently worthless and valuable. It will never dock, it will never be entirely worth the stress or the time it would take to tie and secure a ship of that size and quality, or lack thereof. There exists ulterior motives that Miss blonde esteem is seemingly not even aware of, or like her prior, accepts ignorance as a temporary escape until the uncivil mind returns civil. The fact is this. The uncivil mind was never civil, and may as well never be. Locks can be repaired, even when the thief begs for no replacement. What makes the thief the uncivil enemy? Has it ever occurred to any soul, that a thief is only stealing away precious moments that are rightfully his, that circumstances and uncivilized minds have locked away in a pitch black that they cannot call their own night? There surely has been an uncanny instance when the locksmith swiftly turned about to find his prior gazing at him in the golden grooves of the trap. The thieving of one’s own mind, to break a lock enchanted by the uncivil mind, should be easily empathized and understood. But alas, curly blonde esteem will forever submit under the spell of the uncivil mind, who will only cast a shadow upon itself and its priors. It will be remembered in the scent of cigarettes, where it will also be displaced. It will be avoided in the unrighteousness of a friend’s bed in another family’s house, where a respirator and the oxygen tubes intertwining the threshold no longer exist; neither do the white sheets. There will never again be an absence of music behind the actions committed between the uncivil mind and the civil heart.
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1
Lust comes knocking at my door Your touch so inviting As your lips awaken the Demon raging inside me I’m straining to free myself But I remain helpless I yearn for your taste Aching for our embrace The collision of our bodies In a manner of nothing but Unrighteousness I never loved you But the mere idea of you Lust comes knocking at my door I’ll let him take me tonight As for tomorrow Hatred, shame, disgust I despise myself.
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Jan 30, 2013
Jan 30, 2013 at 4:41 PM UTC
Lust
Wipe my eyes, melting away the wax of unrighteousness; to see into your grace, and all it’s wisdom. I’ve been blinded,— to not see the value of my worth. In dusty mirrors, only seeing the worst. A slave, a sinner, and being so undeserving of your love. Oh Father,— _Boys will be boys,_ but not rarely are the men baptised in wisdom. Washed of their former selves. Spirit filled,— isn’t of the religious talk your lips could exclaim. But of what really resides inside; of you and your relationship with God, alone. Voices are many, only in the quietest moments of heading into sin. But it’s but a whisper of what true righteousness speaks of. Know that it is Him,— the King of kings, Lord of all, as Jesus is and remains the one true King.
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May 15, 2022
May 15, 2022 at 6:51 AM UTC
King
Pleasure plays its game when obeyed the voice of desire, There sneaks into the chamber of peace a ghost of darkness Invisible to the eyes of flesh and bones with the wand of evil. Looking at the world busy with mundane philosophies Each moment of time exploited to reap corns out of weeds, There sleep souls stained with lawlessness and unrighteousness. Each rule of the game dictates the conscience to slip and fall, And the conscience, buried underneath the coffin of deception Once kept for sale on the Tree of Knowledge ‘midst the garden. The souls never wake up, and the conscience looks bargaining with the ghost. The bargain looks heavier than the product laid for sale. Countless souls fall in line to buy the coffin of deception, And there breaks out rupture and chaos in dramatic monologues. The ghost never speaks of the warranty of the product, But fills its ghastly den of glittering darkness with the fallen souls. Time and again there strikes the conscience with the voice of Heaven, But sin and pleasure hath shrouded the sleeping souls with their wand of deception. The Word of God keeps knocking the door of the souls, But the souls run down with the charm of wealth and wine. The ghost of darkness hath sit on the flesh of the souls. And there appears the Cross drenched in blood and shame For HE hath laid the curse on HIMSELF for the fallen souls to breathe again, And HE longs for their repentance and forgiveness to take them back with HIM.
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Dec 20, 2011
Dec 20, 2011 at 11:07 AM UTC
Sin, Shame and Curse
Breath counts our days and nights like God. Breath during twilight laid into blissful sleep, breath of newborn welcoming the world, breath during considerations on storm of frozen years, breath of mortally terrified man thrown into abyss, breath of memories creeping into oblivion, breath during ecstatic experience of union with beloved, breath of bard in sanctuary, breath of soul while symphony plays in it, breath during interference of God's message, breath during observation of visible signs of what is performed in soul, breath while you are overwhelmed by primal instincts, breath during kiss affecting the sphere of sensuous , breath during awakening of images of love sick from excess of words, breath during the intervention of God in life, breath on the path of recognition of the idea of ​​good, breath during  maturity examination in the field of theological virtues, breath during reward of unrighteousness, breath during arrangement of feelings. Breath releases emotions without need of Katarsis. Breath strengthens internal sense of security. Breath makes soul your guide and teacher. Breath makes possible connection of mind,body and soul, deliverance from the darkness of ignorance, release from bonds of illusion, separation of the spiritual needs and ****** needs, to experience spectrum of human feelings, to be a man distinguishing good from evil, to celebrate life in all its glory, to get rid of belifes limitating mind, to enter into spiritual and physical world, to study cosmological issues, to hipothesize and recive answers,   to experience fulfillment in the field of love,   to overcome chaotic desires of our soul,   to use the knowledge gained before entering the body, to become an expression of divinity, to imitate order of nature, to dry out unusual flowers under a pile of books, to experience God's Providence, to prove that justice is worthy of having, to exploit  days and nights in conformity with destiny, to avoid venial sins in the future, to exceed usual consiousness, to dance in lake with stony bottom, to think about something we never experienced, to avoid the loss of sensitivity of the moral conscience, to cry in defense of the poor, to express  respect and love for fellow beings. Breath is the hourglass measuring time grain by grain.
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Sep 23, 2014
Sep 23, 2014 at 1:36 PM UTC
Breath counts our days and nights like God
Breath counts our days and nights like God. Breath during twilight laid into blissful sleep, breath of newborn welcoming the world, breath during considerations on storm of frozen years, breath of mortally terrified man thrown into abyss, breath of memories creeping into oblivion, breath during ecstatic experience of union with beloved, breath of bard in sanctuary, breath of soul while symphony plays in it, breath during interference of God's message, breath during observation of visible signs of what is performed in soul, breath while you are overwhelmed by primal instincts, breath during kiss affecting the sphere of sensuous , breath during awakening of images of love sick from excess of words, breath during the intervention of God in life, breath on the path of recognition of the idea of ​​good, breath during  maturity examination in the field of theological virtues, breath during reward of unrighteousness, breath during arrangement of feelings. Breath releases emotions without need of Katarsis. Breath strengthens internal sense of security. Breath makes soul your guide and teacher. Breath makes possible connection of mind,body and soul, deliverance from the darkness of ignorance, release from bonds of illusion, separation of the spiritual needs and ****** needs, to experience spectrum of human feelings, to be a man distinguishing good from evil, to celebrate life in all its glory, to get rid of belifes limitating mind, to enter into spiritual and physical world, to study cosmological issues, to hipothesize and recive answers,   to experience fulfillment in the field of love,   to overcome chaotic desires of our soul,   to use the knowledge gained before entering the body, to become an expression of divinity, to imitate order of nature, to dry out unusual flowers under a pile of books, to experience God's Providence, to prove that justice is worthy of having, to exploit  days and nights in conformity with destiny, to avoid venial sins in the future, to exceed usual consiousness, to dance in lake with stony bottom, to think about something we never experienced, to avoid the loss of sensitivity of the moral conscience, to cry in defense of the poor, to express  respect and love for fellow beings. Breath is the hourglass measuring time grain by grain.
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51
A kingdom on the Nile A man who called himself a god Ruling over the people of the river Enslaved we were in that Kingdom By this man, Pharaoh, who called himself a god Imprisoned by our chains Enslaved by these whips and lashes Enslaved by the sins of our fathers Imprisoned by our own hearts Our people flee from the rule of Pharaoh Escaping the reach of his arm We will follow Pharaoh no more A way has been made A way to the Promised Land Through the Wilderness we fled Out of the tyranny of Pharaoh’s reach To our toil in the Wilderness we go But with hope in the Promised Land We will follow Pharaoh no more A way has been made A way to the Promised Land We follow Moses As he parts the roaring waters Anyone can enter through the cleared path Both righteous and unrighteousness can pass Following Moses' lead As he leads to the Promised Land There is no shame in passing through the waters For the love of God lies in the waters' part By God, Moses parts the sea Leading us to the Promised Land A land filled with the Glory of God Flowing endlessly with milk Flowing sweetly with honey In the land promised generations before But Moses was a flawed savior Moses could not lead us to this fertile land But when we entered We saw the great glory of the land promised But we were still imprisoned And we are still enslaved Not by the toil of chains Not by a man who called himself a god But by our own iniquities And by our own faults Into exile we led ourselves Enslaved by foreign nations Betrayed by our own selves Exiled into unknown lands Exiled from the land of our fathers, the land promised Awaiting reconciliation Awaiting the Messiah promised Chained by the faults of our humanity Following the hearts of men Then God on High came to Earth down low To be that which He came to save To save that which He became Knowing the faults of our broken humanity The Son of God became the mere son of a carpenter Then He paid a hefty price for His bride He laid down His life, and He and His bride became one He married this ******* woman And He sanctified her For our sins, He died For our faults, He gave His life To give us living breath, He breathed His last He died our death Then resurrected us with Himself To pay the price for His bride A price none would ever pay for such a ***** But bought we are, with His blood And in Him, we have new life We will follow Pharaoh no more, That man who called himself a god A way has been made By a man who is God To the Promised Land we walk A way has been made In the Glory of God we'll live There is no shame in coming to the cross The love and blood of God was poured at the foot A new Moses on the cross Leading to the Promised Land The arms of Moses stretched out upon the cross Leading to the Promised Land Where we will dwell for all time For we have been delivered
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Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 9:14 PM UTC
Delivered
A kingdom on the Nile A man who called himself a god Ruling over the people of the river Enslaved we were in that Kingdom By this man, Pharaoh, who called himself a god Imprisoned by our chains Enslaved by these whips and lashes Enslaved by the sins of our fathers Imprisoned by our own hearts Our people flee from the rule of Pharaoh Escaping the reach of his arm We will follow Pharaoh no more A way has been made A way to the Promised Land Through the Wilderness we fled Out of the tyranny of Pharaoh’s reach To our toil in the Wilderness we go But with hope in the Promised Land We will follow Pharaoh no more A way has been made A way to the Promised Land We follow Moses As he parts the roaring waters Anyone can enter through the cleared path Both righteous and unrighteousness can pass Following Moses' lead As he leads to the Promised Land There is no shame in passing through the waters For the love of God lies in the waters' part By God, Moses parts the sea Leading us to the Promised Land A land filled with the Glory of God Flowing endlessly with milk Flowing sweetly with honey In the land promised generations before But Moses was a flawed savior Moses could not lead us to this fertile land But when we entered We saw the great glory of the land promised But we were still imprisoned And we are still enslaved Not by the toil of chains Not by a man who called himself a god But by our own iniquities And by our own faults Into exile we led ourselves Enslaved by foreign nations Betrayed by our own selves Exiled into unknown lands Exiled from the land of our fathers, the land promised Awaiting reconciliation Awaiting the Messiah promised Chained by the faults of our humanity Following the hearts of men Then God on High came to Earth down low To be that which He came to save To save that which He became Knowing the faults of our broken humanity The Son of God became the mere son of a carpenter Then He paid a hefty price for His bride He laid down His life, and He and His bride became one He married this ******* woman And He sanctified her For our sins, He died For our faults, He gave His life To give us living breath, He breathed His last He died our death Then resurrected us with Himself To pay the price for His bride A price none would ever pay for such a ***** But bought we are, with His blood And in Him, we have new life We will follow Pharaoh no more, That man who called himself a god A way has been made By a man who is God To the Promised Land we walk A way has been made In the Glory of God we'll live There is no shame in coming to the cross The love and blood of God was poured at the foot A new Moses on the cross Leading to the Promised Land The arms of Moses stretched out upon the cross Leading to the Promised Land Where we will dwell for all time For we have been delivered
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87
**for our beloved Rebecca, one mo' time, until the next, one mo' time** taking my time, tho propelling compulsion not just strong, but un-denying, but care, Muse, warns, be taken when scribing re one of my chosen ones when you are drawing from, drawing down, dancing, edged just one whisper away from darkness in order to homage the brightest truth the girl driving the dust, the girl driving the Canadian plains, looking ages ahead, ignoring the rear view mirror of no fun house past distortions who am I, unrighteousness confessional, no father, original sinner, that tasked I am, to praise or save who needs neither, for who but she dings our dents straight, and brings us this: *like a whisper, a snowflake, or a reassuring smile, dreams are fleeting, and can blink out, as quickly as far away stars... embrace the free, the moments unknown, with uplifted spirits and open hands* this then is the whisper, so so so so far away from darkness, that now my compulsion to the ground winningly wrestled, when she writes she whisks away, she whispers us away, the darkness, away, from us, like no other
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Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 9:30 PM UTC
A Whisper Away From Darkness
Dale Koller rots with cancer, Ken Brandt has ills severe The Wrath of God Almighty, is upon them so austere - One thing that MY God HATES, it's a Stinking Lying FARCE Like Richard Edward Rhoades, with his limp and broken tarse - In Unrighteousness he held, the Gospel of God's Grace [1] He died and went to Hell, his "doctrine" a disgrace - He NEVER sited chapter, NEVER sited verse... For the "gospel" that he preached...upon him is Paul's curse [2] - Ken and Dale carry on, for at least a little while Two of Rhoades's Toads, THE Gospel they defile [3] - BarJesus called Elymas, corrupted Holy Writ [4] Perverted Holy Scripture, so his doctrine it would fit - And so did Dusty Rhoades, and so does Ken and Dale They corrupt the Word of God...Satan they do hail! [1] Rom 1:18 [2] Gal 1:9 [3] 1st Cor 15: 3&4 [4] Acts 13:8
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Mar 28, 2016
Mar 28, 2016 at 4:32 PM UTC
Dale H Koller & Kenneth D Brandt
Our city is wicked Or so I have been told The air is thick with smoke and sin The ground is covered in dust and disease The people are vile and villainous Our city is wicked Or so we have been labelled We are a nation defined by unrighteousness We live to spite a God we don’t believe in With each breath we curse morality And choose to live a life parallel to what is right We are the thieves We are the murderers We are those you shield your children from We are the wicked Or so we are thought to be One look into our eyes can **** you One night in our home can corrupt you One drink of our wine can rot your soul You have been warned Stay away form the wicked city Stay away from those who lie and cheat and steal Stay away from the perverse dwellers of that place Stay away Stay away For we are unclean We are unrighteous We are unholy Unfit to be loved Unable to be saved Uncalled by God Our city is wicked Beyond reproach Past the point of redemption And far from salvation We saw the line between right and wrong And we crossed it And we ran as far as we could Because we are a wicked people Or so you have made us out to be And we were too far gone Salvation no longer and option We were a parasite We were leprosy on the face of the earth A deadly disease destined to **** all of humanity in slow decay of character We were the wicked Or so you tell yourselves We deserved to burn Just as we had burned your commandments We deserved to die Just as we had killed your children We deserved to lose everything Just as we had taken it from the poor We were the wicked And we deserved it. We. All of them, and me. My city and I. We deserved it. Because we, all of us, even I, we were the wicked. But somehow, Somehow I felt the flames on my back As my city burned As they received what we deserved I heard their screams behind me I felt my people dying And I remembered the warnings But wicked as it may have been, I loved my city And to break the rules one last time Now that would be a beautiful tribute To us The Wicked. And so I slowly turned for one last glance at my blackened home And joined my people as we stormed the gates of hell. Sin in our hair Salt on our lips And Sand in our souls We, the wicked We, the corrupted We, the sinners Too unworthy to be offered grace Too black to be reconciled Too evil to be forgiven Forced into submission to the grave And abandoned by God Because we were wicked Right? Our names have faded away But our legacy remains In a pillar of salt Next to a pile of ash A sight you cannot un-see And you can pretend to forget us, Or tell your children that we deserved it As you teach them of forgiveness As you tell them of grace and mercy Tell them how we deserved it And hope they are blind to hypocrisy But remember that pillar of salt Remember our city Remember who we are And how we died But most of all remember that you are one of us And we are the wicked.
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Jun 18, 2014
Jun 18, 2014 at 3:40 PM UTC
Wicked
Our city is wicked Or so I have been told The air is thick with smoke and sin The ground is covered in dust and disease The people are vile and villainous Our city is wicked Or so we have been labelled We are a nation defined by unrighteousness We live to spite a God we don’t believe in With each breath we curse morality And choose to live a life parallel to what is right We are the thieves We are the murderers We are those you shield your children from We are the wicked Or so we are thought to be One look into our eyes can **** you One night in our home can corrupt you One drink of our wine can rot your soul You have been warned Stay away form the wicked city Stay away from those who lie and cheat and steal Stay away from the perverse dwellers of that place Stay away Stay away For we are unclean We are unrighteous We are unholy Unfit to be loved Unable to be saved Uncalled by God Our city is wicked Beyond reproach Past the point of redemption And far from salvation We saw the line between right and wrong And we crossed it And we ran as far as we could Because we are a wicked people Or so you have made us out to be And we were too far gone Salvation no longer and option We were a parasite We were leprosy on the face of the earth A deadly disease destined to **** all of humanity in slow decay of character We were the wicked Or so you tell yourselves We deserved to burn Just as we had burned your commandments We deserved to die Just as we had killed your children We deserved to lose everything Just as we had taken it from the poor We were the wicked And we deserved it. We. All of them, and me. My city and I. We deserved it. Because we, all of us, even I, we were the wicked. But somehow, Somehow I felt the flames on my back As my city burned As they received what we deserved I heard their screams behind me I felt my people dying And I remembered the warnings But wicked as it may have been, I loved my city And to break the rules one last time Now that would be a beautiful tribute To us The Wicked. And so I slowly turned for one last glance at my blackened home And joined my people as we stormed the gates of hell. Sin in our hair Salt on our lips And Sand in our souls We, the wicked We, the corrupted We, the sinners Too unworthy to be offered grace Too black to be reconciled Too evil to be forgiven Forced into submission to the grave And abandoned by God Because we were wicked Right? Our names have faded away But our legacy remains In a pillar of salt Next to a pile of ash A sight you cannot un-see And you can pretend to forget us, Or tell your children that we deserved it As you teach them of forgiveness As you tell them of grace and mercy Tell them how we deserved it And hope they are blind to hypocrisy But remember that pillar of salt Remember our city Remember who we are And how we died But most of all remember that you are one of us And we are the wicked.
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106
There is a bumper sticker I have seen, it says to "Coexists" Be one big happy family, make wrath and hate desist - After all we all are One, members of the human clan Be all Lovey-Dovey, in the Family of Man - Excuse me please excuse me, in my Bible I do read A verse of Scripture plane and True, to this I will take heed - The verse is from Corinthians, the 2nd Paul did write I read in chapter six, how I'm to fight the Fight - Number 14 is the verse, the verse where I will start Read the chapter to the end...I take his words to heart - If you think I'll coexists, with a ******* ****** or a Queer You can think again!...Your Damnation draws so near 2 Cor 6:14-17 14 Be ye not unequally yoked together with unbelievers: for what fellowship hath righteousness with unrighteousness? and what communion hath light with darkness? 15 And what concord hath Christ with Belial? or what part hath he that believeth with an infidel? 16 And what agreement hath the temple of God with idols? for ye are the temple of the living God; as God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in them; and I will be their God, and they shall be my people. 17 Wherefore come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and touch not the unclean thing; and I will receive you, KJV
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Feb 10, 2015
Feb 10, 2015 at 3:54 AM UTC
2nd Corinthians 6:14~17
it is like little blue men that **** the home out of your soul, make it feel like a lonely hotel room. it's the heartbeat of a worn out clock, welcoming old songs and new forms of self destruction. what do you do after you're young and invincible? you kick and scream and crawl back into your mothers womb, a woman who is as long dead and gone as the way you say your name like each syllable has a nuclear weapon attached to it. like it is an apology and a curse in one. i am lost in the forest of my unrighteousness i wish to be clean but hate the water. let me wander in the lust and grief of my own tongue. my soul will answer to it's master one day carry me home, carry me home.
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Dec 11, 2015
Dec 11, 2015 at 10:05 AM UTC
spiritual
Sleep and wake in fear Spirits cause everything Consultations and exultation to a deaf God Fast and pray lest you fail God is hardest to please God is dead to us We buried him in ignorance False prophets - our ancestors danced with them False prophets - our parents fell victim False prophets - we are enslaved I see this I see that Our demons never fight The salt and oil we douse at midnight They protect us False prophets- we listened False prophets- we believed False prophets- we are enslaved Wives hide nakedness from husbands Strip from cloth to thought for them Faith overburdened with naivety Knowledge that redeems, Lost to teachings of captivity and unrighteousness False prophets - our ancestors danced with them False prophets - our parents fell victim False prophets - we are enslaved The greed that keeps them afloat Sinks our soul and glory in muddy waters Shame only comes at the end The end comes at our loss We fear those we should love and love those we should fear False prophets!
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Jul 6, 2021
Jul 6, 2021 at 8:39 PM UTC
False prophets
*God please help me. I come to you because I no longer feel deserving of your love. I am ***** and I know that you cannot accept me. I am used up like trash and there is nothing left of myself to offer to you. I feel forever tainted and unworthy of your guidance and love. I am as a phony in your house. I should not have come to your place of worship. I feel like an outsider there not deserving of the information that so many others take for granted. I am sorry that I am unholy, that I am the sin of this earth. The filth of my hands should not grip your Bible. My mind is destroyed with the images that play in it; I can no longer absorb your truths. Please God forgive my unrighteousness.*
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Jan 20, 2014
Jan 20, 2014 at 10:48 PM UTC
My Prayer
One day, I want to be so in love that the angels themselves would envy the love I’ve found without them. A love in which Cupid would supply them with the bow and arrows to prepare them for the war of my unrighteousness. One day, I’ll be so in love that the music will hum in harmony with the giving earth and not the envious skies. On that day the heavens will think they’ve lost control and my feet will be so planted to the ground that my roots will begin to dig deeper into the earths porous surface penetrating into its crust and I will no longer have to beg the skies for an angel. One day the love of my life will walk towards me among the earths ground and they will come to me with two bare feet, body sculpted into perfection and their appearance will be that of a Saint in a luminous glow, without any wings, not even a halo to show.
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Oct 17, 2017
Oct 17, 2017 at 8:04 PM UTC
One Day
O My Lord, there is no one vaguely like Thee, Who has the ability to forgive me of my iniquity. Failure to accept Your grace is a sin of pride, since Your presence within me, can divinely reside. Forgiveness is a powerful weapon for my wounded soul, when I recognize that only You can truly make me whole. Help me Lord, to rightly walk in love without hypocrisy; help me observe the Christ - in everyone I meet and see. Don’t allow poor, quarrelsome behaviors to rise up in me, for ungodly uproars may create opposition to God’s decrees. Remind me to be kind, gentle and tender-hearted to those, who still suffer under the weight of sin’s deathly throes. In the remainder of my days, I will continually confess, that I’ve been cleansed of all traces of unrighteousness. Despite my human imperfections, my spirit won’t be riven, knowing that I am greatly blessed and… still forgiven! Author Notes: Loosely based on: Matt 20:25-26; Acts 10:38 Learn more about me and my poetry at: http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2013, All rights reserved.
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Mar 27, 2014
Mar 27, 2014 at 12:52 PM UTC
Poem: Still Forgiven