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Alyssa Underwood Dec 2015
Feasting table under a shading tree
Swaddling robe that warmly cleans
Mirror beautifying while it reflects
Sword that pierces yet never rejects
Light penetrating the blackest hole
Water filling and healing the soul
~~~

"For the word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart. Nothing in all creation is hidden from God’s sight. Everything is uncovered and laid bare before the eyes of Him to whom we must give account.

"Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has ascended into heaven, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold firmly to the faith we profess. For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need."

~ Hebrews 4:12-16

~~~
Reza Bavar Jun 2016
What is a Legacy
What's the equation that leads to the sum that is
A
Human
Life
The curtain draws as it must and
when it's done...
We spill out of this "Life" a grocery bag of idiosyncrasies, neuroses, hypocrisies, and other I-sees
What are we in the end but broken pieces of a puzzle we leave for others to assemble--who cares if the pieces fit.
Someone found a Kind word here
Another a Generosity
A memory of a Lie
Proof of a Cruelty
Acts of Humanity by a human being acting...
Who knows me well enough to define my Legacy?
Who else but "I"
I like spoken word poetry (a lot) and this poem works best if it's read in that type of tone.
Eleanor Rigby Nov 2014
I feel like a stranger
Stuck in another stranger's body.


-- Eleanor
10W
Patricia Arches Sep 2013
Choices

This ever blotting simple thing that makes up things

as small as a mouse but also as deadly as sin itself

A simple formula of cause and effect

An effect

A result

A consequence

No pretences

Or fences that guard our decisions

Keeps it safe for being just a choice

For it is no longer just a choice

It is not that simple, see there is a formula to remember

An economic study to this choice where c=e

because

For every cause there is an effect

For every cause there is an effect

For every cause there is an effect

Let it dwell in your mind and affect you

Because that is where it all begins

Let us open up your mind and there we will find that

Alongside that implanted thought are a plethora

Of more thoughts that are placed beside your dreams

Nestled in between your hopes, skilfully intertwined with your visions

There they all lay

Our mind is our drive that takes us down

A road that is long and winding

A highway down to our hands

Which eventually become steered by, picked up with strings ever so delicately like a puppet

Held by that one thought

Your actions are birthed from your thoughts

We see these to be choices

To study these choices would be economics, to understand them would be sympathy

To take a leader who steals from his country

Or a mom who abandons her child to keep herself alive

And view this as sad, as a cry for help?

How and why?

Oh no! We do not stop at just those two ghastly choices

For this is a study of many

Choices

Of things that have happened to determine what will and to save us from what has been

Let us open up this book

And flip each page to see what decrees and laws

Revolutions and words put down on paper

Have anything to do with where we stand today

For the choices of the past still linger here

Mixed in with the choices of the present

Creating this air that we breathe in and out every single day

We would be infuriated with rage as we scan through the pages of this book of choices

A chapter of injustice

A paragraph of cruelty

A statement of selfishness

A line of adultery

But, wait! Oh, let us stop on this

One

story

For this I do not even understand

See I have studied choices, and put them into many formulas

To see the effects and the causes of each

but this story is different

For it is not just one chapter

One statement

One line

It is the whole story and each is intricately woven within it

In fact, the book is titled for this one story

And to begin it would be to start off with a choice

By a God

To send his son

To die for men

Men whose choices we see throughout the whole book

Men whose choices are vile and selfish and ruthless

Sinful men

*****

And yet a God so Holy and pure still sends down his son in His likeness for these grimy men??

See, if we picture it. It is a white cloth, pure and clean not just dipped but completely submerged in dirt

Now that is not a choice that I would make

But it was made

A man so untainted and holy

Came down

To die for the sinner

Who stole from the helpless woman in the ally

Who murdered an innocent child in the womb

Who told a tiny white lie to his mom and dad and gave himself away to drugs and peer pressure

Who lusted after the world and what seemed good but really was death covered in make up whispering

in the promises lie after lie

To die for the sinner who is you

You

Jesus chose to die for you

On that cross, with his hands bound by nails and his feet the same

And with every last breath, last drop of blood and whip of the chain

he thought of you

and that is a choice that no study, no analyzation could ever make sense of

but it was done

it is done

is what he said for you as his arms were spread out wide

and all your choices

he negated the effects, and ultimately the effect of death

and formulated a solution of eternal life instead

for this one choice

changed all the rest

Now, think, think it through

Every choice you make

and every choice that was made is made brand new, infused with grace

Remember this for when there is a test the formula of cause and effect

Still stand true

but also remember Jesus who did what you had to do

for you may make many more flawed choices without a thought

Therefore go down on bended knees gaze at the cross

where stood the Father’s son

never a doubt that this choice for you was a wrong one

that any effect wouldn’t be worth it

you are worth any effect

you are an effect

of that one choice made on the hills of calvary

look up at the cross when your lewd effects force out the mistakes of your personal choices

then resurface that one choice made 2000 years before

bring it up amongst all the confusion and chaos

study it’s economic worth

hold it dear

smile at it even for

that senseless,

unexplainable,

brilliant,

grand,

intricate,

lovel­y,

merciful,

gracious,

holy,

divine,

choice

is all for you
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2018
When the sun
is a sleeping beauty at night
shining on the Moon!
The night is wake
is a stunner far cuter.
It knows no cold foot
is on the move.

The full wax of the starry
sky keeps awake.
But none could chart a line
exposing a beautiful
night in the veil, no one
says a single word.

The first one perhaps that
dared to open the mouth
only to be speechless
to be lost for word!

Not a night or two ago but
since the dawning of the time!
William Eberlein Feb 2013
I love her.

Basic in it's being.
As such is the keeping of it.

A thesis to the "ins" and "outs."
The "ups" and "downs."
The "all abouts."

An equation of this and that.
In direct proportion to the simplicity of directional momentum...

So do we conclude,
equal complexity
to that which was not spoken.

To that which was kept.

Only relenting to a factor of time.

From which
the variable of existence
can evolve itself.

In and of itself.
Jim Davis Apr 2017
Every one
Looks for two

©  2017 Jim Davis
Jon York Nov 2012
One look at her and my thoughts could write a book
One kind word can go a long way
One instant can be an eternity
One smile can make a friend forever
One memory can last forever
One lie can break a heart
One word can touch a heart
One mean word can break a heart
One false move can spell doom
One kind gesture can make a friend forever
One voice can speak wisdom
One touch can show that you care
One touch can be felt forever
One step can start a journey
One negative reaction can build a wall
One "I love you" can bring down that wall
One **** thought can bring disaster
One **** thought can make for a long drought
One tear sometimes we try to hide
One rose can wake a dream
One poem can melt the heart
One look from a puppy dogs eyes says he wants to be your friend
One poem can make you feel that you are not alone
One word sometimes needs to be heard  
                                                         ­              Jon York           2012
Ashleigh Black Apr 2014
I'd tie loose ends for you.
Lizzy Jan 2015
I was never a hopeless romantic. I never believed in love. I guess things change when you meet someone. Now I’m just hopeless and romantic.
Negra Jan 2016
You made me
And that idea baffles me all the time
Because you didn't make me at all.
Well it's arguable that your absence made some of me
But there's millions of people who aren't in my life too.
Has my absence made some of you?
The first time I was with you,
Half of me was swimming to my moms egg,
When we were together for the second time
I noticed I had built you up
I only knew the biology of our connection
It made me realize how disconnected we were.
We weren't that tall and still aren't.
Without you I am nothing
But without you I've been many things.
I'll meet you again sometime.
There's still time to grow.
Lizzy Jan 2015
NOT SO 500 WORD STORY
​My next victim was a little more challenging than all the rest. When he asked me to go get coffee with him I was surprised, I didn’t think I would ever get the opportunity to claim one like this. His eyes were blue, they taunted me and made my mind dance over the idea that they could be mine. He wore a backwards hat and had the kind of speech that reminded me of my brother. He was confident, sort of cocky, just the type that I needed. I hate those types, the guys that think their better just because they have flowing blonde hair and big arms. I really can’t stand them. We decided to meet at the Starbucks down the street from my house, convenient. We would meet on Friday at 6:30 pm.
​Thursday night, lying in bed, all I could think about was the ****** up **** I was going to do. I thought about the blood; blood has always been the reason I did this. Not like men, they always want ****** gratification, or to eat them or something, ******* Dahmer. That’s why girls never get caught. We’re not in it for the trophy, we don’t keep souvenirs, we just want to ****. I mean I love the blood, I but I don’t keep it or anything, I’m not that stupid. I think how the flow and color can change, like if you cut an artery, steady fast flow and bright red. But if you cut a vein the flow isn’t as fast, and the color has a slight blue tint, due to the oxygen in it. When I first started doing this, I wasn’t very good at covering my tracks. People sometimes questioned why my bathroom smelled like bleach, all the time. But I got better at the cleanup.
​Friday came and I don’t know why but I was a little hesitant. Why was I having second thoughts about this? Most of the time I can’t wait to get the show on the road. But now I really didn’t even want to show up at the Starbucks. I wanted to let him go, but that little monster that lives in my lungs told me to keep going; so I did. I got to Starbucks and sat down, I didn’t see him anywhere so I waited. He showed up and ran over to the table and sat across from me, he seemed genuinely sorry for being late. We talked and for some reason I couldn’t stop staring. At his eyes and lips, and his hands; he had nice hands. I wanted to hold them, I never wanted to hold anyone’s hand before. The more he talked, the more nervous I became. What am I doing? I can’t do this? Why did I even start doing this? But it was too late, the monsters were screaming too loud for me to ignore.
​He was in the middle of a sentence when I interrupted and asked if he wanted to come back to my apartment. You should have seen his eyes light up. They all got so excited when I asked. We left and walked back, on the way there he did something, he held my hand. Why the hell would he do that? Did he like me? That would be pretty ******* stupid on his part if he did. And it was pretty ******* stupid for me to like him back, but I guess I’m an idiot. I took him upstairs and I wanted to cry. This has never happened before, I’ve never been afraid of myself. He sat down on the couch and I nervously excused myself to the bathroom. Looking in the mirror, the tears came, they came like I was cutting an artery. I couldn’t stand the sight of myself, I wanted to destroy this monster. And in a storm of rage I ****** my fist into the mirror. The glass shattered like a deafening thunder and my blood dripped into the sink. I fell to the floor screaming and he came running in. ****, I forgot to lock the door. Now I’m sitting there crying and screaming with this beautiful stranger trying to save me. It was a mess, I was a mess. His hands around me, he kept trying to help me up, but I didn’t want to move. I didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore, no more death and destruction, I need peace. So I told him to go, I begged for him to leave but he wouldn’t. “Please don’t do this”, I thought, “please don’t try to save me”. But he wouldn’t go. And then the monsters screamed, so ******* loud. Looking up I could see his mouth moving but there were no words coming out, only the demonic shrieks from inside me. And in one involuntary move, I picked up a piece of mirror glass and cut his throat.
​Watching the blood wasn’t like before, it didn’t bring a smile to my face and it didn’t stop the screaming. There was no calmness in watching the life in him die, there was nothing. I did what I was supposed to, what I always had done. But still nothing. I felt nothing but at the same time I felt the pain. All the pain of everyone I had ever hurt filled me and I knew what I had to do. I took my phone out of my pocket and called the police, I told them what I did. So I sat there on the floor next to the lifeless, beautiful, stranger, and waited for them to come. I looked at him and new it was over. All the hurting was over.
I was assigned a five hundred word story, I went a little overboard
K Balachandran Nov 2015
Don't ever ask me what am I, an ancient story
of a battle lost to remain in the realm of the sublime,
unmitigated grief that visits, again and again,
reminding the journey of pain though galaxies,
far of yore to the days of present.

In a moments of desperation I discover  the bard,it could
be rather told thus, he meets me at last, as was his wont
Bard, celestial lover, before my eyes you appear thus:
I see you holding in your hands a magic lyre, so rare.
that goes on strumming non- stop, to bring birds, the tunes,
that lives in far parts of the universe,even unknown  to most,
they do vary,have colored feathers;memories living in
different layers of my consciousness,always buzzing like a beehive.

I am the single, magic , potent, word, a mantra
that in it's kernel carries the , seeds of eternal, "I am that"

I hear the speakings of the words,that brings to life
experiences of different kinds,on their beaks some one
carries ripe fruits, the result of long days of sweat and tears.
Each fruit has a flavor distinct,each word carries a seed
that will grow to be a mighty tree,many birds would roost.

Bard you are a wonder,tying past and future with one string
of a lyre converging in the heart beat of the ebullient present,
you easily transcend the three, and every other dimension
of time that mingles in your heady brew,unrivaled it stands.
In this journey through unknown paths, what really is the possession
of lonely human being?
(C)  K.Balachandran ([email protected])
Third Eye Candy Apr 2013
Gemini in seasonable  evening,
serenely swirling in Septemberous
ferris wheels
reeling in the vast domain
of lonesome leviathans
and witch-fires;
nowhere bound in the boundless fecundity
[ the feral joys of creation... ]
twins
meander in gravity's
well of souls,
swollen with unknowns and proteins;
golden rods in pointless foam
brewing the elixir vitae
in the Dippers cup. the Milky Way,
a wayward gush
from an ancient Mother Goddess,
plump and shameless, pumping teats
to nurse worlds
infused with divine rays of gamma and x...
why set dark apart
from firmament burning
spheres?

dragons
must clutch eggs in the void
as much
as fork tongue white dwarfs.
of course, the Source
unfolds
as  Love does. it's purpose,
in thrall of fearless veracity,
spinning yarns for glad garments
to clothe the naked dread
of such fearful symmetries
as roam the wild delights
of the infinite
meringue.

the Pi
on the window sill,
tempting the circular frame of reference
to square with the sublime Will.
another Fibonacci in your
bedpost,
to better hobnob with
broomsticks.
everything annihilates hatred.
from within,
we sojourn to sovereign super-continents
of opulent peace.
profound realities surge serpentine
with Meaning.
we are outdone on the inside by small minds
and farcical
hearts.

so at night
look up.

Love's Tongue Is
Love's
Word.
Sue Venir loved Hugh Biquitous, but he was unreliable, so she confided this to her friend, Di Namic who confirmed he’d been seen with Penny Farthing and Miss Chevous. Then she ran into Ken Tucky, who’d just broken up with Jen Erator, and was known to hang with Mel N. Choly. Together, they and Dan Ube went to a party thrown by Perry Winkle at the house of Dana Point.

Con Valescence introduced Sue to Marine Layer who asked Mr. Tucky to join the conversation, and they’ve been conversing ever since. Lou Kemia couldn’t make the party as he was ill. This was confirmed by Nick Knack who’d been informed by Conrad Alert.

Penny Saver left early, heading over to the home of I. Stan Bul, who was throwing a celebration in honor of Hazel Nuts and Grant N. Aid, who were to be married by Will Power, though Miss Givings, his former girlfriend, did not approve. Celebrants included Buzz Saw, Ma Larkey, Ben E. Diction, ***** Pack and of course Ann I. Versary, who deemed it worthy of being remembered. Tom Foolery was always good for a laugh, which was appreciated by Art I. Face, Dee Vice and Tess Osterone.

Some chose to dine alfresco, notably Flora Fauna, Heidi **, and Ed U. Cate. Barb Ituate was a downer, though Ma Larkey tried to cheer her up, watched by Cliff Hanger who wanted to see what happened, until a dispute arose between Ana Conda and Ann Ticipation, who’d both been vying for the attention of Billy Goat.

Meanwhile, in another part of town, Terry Dactyl was in a dispute with Billy Club over Lilly White because of something Miss Conception had reported after hearing from that duo, Caesar Salad and Reuben Sandwich.

Junior Mints tried to mollify the situation with sugary statements, but was interrupted by Yuri Nal, who said he had to go, and then left with Jay Walking and they were off to congregate with Diane Tomeetya.

At the next table General Jive held court in a warlike mood,  that Cary Cature tried to lighten.  With them were Tex Arcana, whose accent was amusing to Bill Collector, Al Gorythm, Tim Buktu and Marv E. Lous, who always had a great time wherever he went.

By then, Bobby Pin, the luscious seamstress, had given up on Peter D. Out, after seeing him clowning around with Butch Wax and Slim N. None, all of them malcontents and disrupters.

In walked Daisy Chain, newly arrived  from the Southern Hemisphere, along with Sydney Australia. Klaus Trophobic had initially agreed to travel with the two of them, but said he had to stay at home. Frank O’Phile overhead this and confided to Phil O’Sophically that there is sometimes merit to such position.

The restaurant was owned by Ty ****, managed by Chuck Wagon, with the food delivered by waiters Clay *** and Terry Aki , assisted by busboyTara Misou.

The next morning, everyone gathered at the home of Dawn Patrol, who was there with her new husband, Earnest Money, after divorcing Perry Mutual. Deb Enture was her maid of honor.  Nick O’Time was nearly late to the party, driving in with Stu Debaker, via a shaky Uber driver named Manuel Shifting.

Al Acrity was his usual sunny self, but not when Den O’Thieves interrupted his conversation, which was shut down by Kay O.

Sherman Oaks and Van Nuys were late, having gotten mixed up on the location. Cliff Hanger was worried about the falling stock market, and as a result was getting drunk with Jack Daniels. Stan Dup was his usually assertive self, but was overshadowed by the always munificent Cy Pres.

Claude Hopper was dressed in yesterdays’ styles, but that didn’t matter to Dov Tail who  was going into business with Matt Chabox, known for his incendiary personality. They had two other partners to round the group out, **** Ular and Ben E. Fit.

Gar Gantuan loomed large, and was unstable when paired with Mo Mentum, who said in such situations, they needed to involve Otto Matic.

Terry Cloth was wrapped around Jan U. Ary, ogled by Barbie Queue and Coleman Lantern.
Staring at yourself
forgetting the clock went round.
standing, staring
dead faced with those lost eyes.
cringed soul.
mascara dripping down your lower lashes like streams of black ink.
leaning up against the sink.
when a girl cries its calligraphy.
her tears spell out the sadness bleeding out of her soul.
nobody cries with emptiness.
you're a rotting corpse
maggot infesting.
its emotional ******.
an empty skeletal.
dismembered.
discarded.
when nothing pains anymore.
nothing gives meaning anymore.
the mind wanders.
walking along a tight rope of death with the thoughts of losing balance.
sleeping but never waking sounds like joy to you.
life is still yet present.
you're still here.
stuck.
alone.
motivation ceases existence.
you want to *****
sun rays piercing through the window feel like needles in you eyes.
signs of optimism eat the insides of the soul like a disease.
that same routine.
tired of how pathetic it feels
that shattered slab of glass gets exhausted of that repetitive view.
the view of you.
you just want to be them.
the people outside your window.
the ones with the smiles.
the ones that have everything.
but when you can't even be happy with yourself.
how do you expect to be happy with
anything at all.


You can't.
This was written in reflection of myself. I was depressed for so long until I learned that I had to start accepting myself for who I am. The work comes from the source (myself) and then works outward.
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