"zion" poems
The darker the berry the sweeter the seeds
plant them because you sow what you reap.
My skin is magical you see...for I am a special kind of breed.
When I'm in the sun my melanin boils, plus heat is good for my ***** coils.
A shade darker I've just became...
From honey brown to a cocoa shade.
Time to untwist my bantu knots and free my natural fro.
The curly crown of victory as my melanin glows. I strut through the grasslands in tune with my inner goddess. My legs are thick and long, so now its time to flaunt this.
shaking my hair from left to right & pump my fist in the air.
Wish I was alive in the civil rights, but then I wouldn't be hear.
People they envy my complexion, they wish they had my perfection. But honestly you can't hate on something God gave.
Melanin queen, you reign in the lands.
Zion queen, lets do a foreign dance.
Melanin runs within my veins and pores.
Melanin I love to be, I'm wading
in the shores.
May 19, 2016
May 19, 2016 at 5:31 PM UTC
It was golden and splendid,
That City of light;
A vision suspended
In deeps of the night;
A region of wonder and glory, whose temples were marble and white.
I remember the season
It dawn'd on my gaze;
The mad time of unreason,
The brain-numbing days
When Winter, white-sheeted and ghastly, stalks onward to torture and craze.
More lovely than Zion
It shone in the sky
When the beams of Orion
Beclouded my eye,
Bringing sleep that was filled with dim mem'ries of moments obscure and gone by.
Its mansions were stately,
With carvings made fair,
Each rising sedately
On terraces rare,
And the gardens were fragrant and bright with strange miracles blossoming there.
The avenues lur'd me
With vistas sublime;
Tall arches assur'd me
That once on a time
I had wander'd in rapture beneath them, and bask'd in the Halcyon clime.
On the plazas were standing
A sculptur'd array;
Long bearded, commanding,
rave men in their day—
But one stood dismantled and broken, its bearded face battered away.
In that city effulgent
No mortal I saw,
But my fancy, indulgent
To memory's law,
Linger'd long on the forms in the plazas, and eyed their stone features with
awe.
I fann'd the faint ember
That glow'd in my mind,
And strove to remember
The aeons behind; &
21.4k
Good king Selassie looked out
on the feast of Marley
When the kush lay round about
dank and green and sticky
Loudly bumped reggae that night
As the king did turn
When a stoner came in sight
Gathering kush to burn
"Come here boy and stand by me
if you know this then say;
where would that young stoner be
at the end of this day?"
"My King he lives quite far away
rather close to Babylon
where exactly I can not say
he surely lives in Zion."
"Bring me kush and fine hashish
bring me bongs and paper
You and I, his base shall reach
bringing dank kush vapour!"
Island boy and Selassie
went across great Zion
eyes all red and mouths all dry
They rode upon the lion
"King, my eyes are growing white
and we smoked our last spliff
I fear that I may die tonight
play me one last reggae riff..."
"Island boy you don't recall
who it is you roll wit
unto me JAH trusted all
of the kush on this planet!"
So Selassie I was blessed
they were high once more
the stoner was offered the rest
of what they had in store
Therefore rasta men be sure
if you have that dank kush
share it with your brothers poor
and find yourself with more bush
Dec 11, 2014
Dec 11, 2014 at 11:12 AM UTC
The beauty of comatose can only be seen through
the eyes of a wizard in a blizzard
strutting in garlic slippers,
or Christ with knees bent at the tabernacle
peeling bananas and kicking prayers
farther than eternity with each gapping second,
or like Basquiat slumped back to the wall,
with ounces of speedball dancing through his veins,
eating 80’s free-based fried chicken *******
as his eyelids paints beautiful nightmares of lemon flowers
and Bacchus bacon over a glycopyrrolate desert
of flagrant cuckold buffoonery.
Or like leprechauns burning chocolate ******* candles
on the mantle of Zion, sipping oatmeal sprinkled
with Staten Island malt liquor bacon.
or like Tupac reading the thoughts of Mother Shipton
through the daze of California cannabis
and hearing the ominous voice of Plutarch sing death assignments
from heaven to Assassins on horsebacks goggling ***** water
to wet the dry bones of their throats as they prepare to fulfill
the gospel of self-fulfilling prophecies of being fell by ***** bullets.
Or like sophisticated wallets of spice and kitchen characters in a bald head
cooking chemical kisses and 18 February nights under Moloch’s skin,
where constitutions are written in charcoal diaries with Egyptian ciphers and razors.
“I had rain sowed into the pockets of my sneakers and composed 1310 eulogies
at the basement of king David’s tower,” said the Kraftwerkian caricature,
as he dangles cigarettes in remembrance of Klaus Nomi and philosophizes on the proliferation
of poetic vandalism at urinals where modernism failed under the phosphorescence of coloration at the avenue of no trees where Picasso's "Guernica" **** Lies All.
Jul 17, 2012
Jul 17, 2012 at 6:01 PM UTC
i.
Queen O' queen, this is thy king
Queen O' queen, this is thy king;
Put thine amulet, around thy neck-
For me.
ii.
Queen O' queen, this is thy king(10,9,8,7,6)
Upon saturns ring's, a beloved dream; (5,4,3)
Taketh mine hand, glideth the moon's with me. ( 2,1,liftoff)
iii.
This is thine king mine dearest queen
Thou hath taken me far away,
To the places only known
By saint's and those whom pray.
This is thy king mine dearest Queen
Erelong love, tis thine hope I cling;
And I'm higher in the most
Ravishing way. Erelong dove,
We'll maketh love in a holy way.
iv.
For here, am I dancing on the cosmos,
Beyond angelic tunes,
Thine eye's of cocoa tides,
Blend's inside me
As I rise.
v.
Though we've passed the universal edge
I'm peaceful in thine presence
Alive or dead; I feeleth the dark matter-
Bubble around in mine head, as Nirvana's
In ourn sight's, Zion's breath.
Queen O' queen, looketh ahead
The stream's; their flowing as
Milk and honey tree's
Touch ourn feet,
A tranquil homestead.
vi.
For here, am I dancing on the cosmos,
Beyond angelic tunes,
Thine eye's of cocoa tides,
Blend's inside me
As I rise.......
©Brandon Nagley
©Lonesome poets poetry
©Earl Jane Nagley(Filipino rose) dedicated
Jan 13, 2016
Jan 13, 2016 at 7:58 PM UTC
Reggae
Power
Love
Spliffs
Zion
Temptations
Marley
Pussay
Dank
******
REGGAE
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 6:54 PM UTC
Chocolate Milkshake!
Sweet love-child of milk and chocolate;
Drowsing inside my extra large take-away tumbler,
after a tiring roller coaster ride.
Chocolate milkshake!
Dark and delicious; Derived from the desserted district of dreamland.
Destroying me internally, you devilish seed of cacao tree.
Today, you are mine; And I’ll be the proud receiver of your sweet nectar.
Chocolate Milkshake!
You proudy liquidy miracle of nature.
You self obsessed syrup of supremacy.
You won’t ever get over yourself, will you?
Chocolate Milkshake!
I have loved you enough, you mean juice of Zion.
Next time, I am gonna order a vanilla milkshake.
It might not be as magical as you are;
But again, I can’t hold onto you forever.
Jun 15, 2015
Jun 15, 2015 at 11:33 AM UTC
They are flocking from the East
And the West,
They are flocking from the North
And the South,
Every moment setting forth
From realm of snake or lion,
Swamp or sand,
Ice or burning;
Greatest and least,
Palm in hand
And praise in mouth,
They are flocking up the path
To their rest,
Up the path that hath
No returning.
Up the steeps of Zion
They are mounting,
Coming, coming,
Throngs beyond man's counting;
With a sound
Like innumerable bees
Swarming, humming
Where flowering trees
Many-tinted,
Many-scented,
All alike abound
With honey,--
With a swell
Like a blast upswaying unrestrainable
From a shadowed dell
To the hill-tops sunny,--
With a thunder
Like the ocean when in strength
Breadth and length
It sets to shore;
More and more
Waves on waves redoubled pour
Leaping flashing to the shore
(Unlike the under
Drain of ebb that loseth ground
For all its roar.)
They are thronging
From the East and West,
From the North and South,
Saints are thronging, loving, longing,
To their land
Of rest,
Palm in hand
And praise in mouth.
5.5k
O sing a new song, to our God above,
Avoid profane ones, 'tis for holy choir:
Let Israel sing song of holy love
To him that made them, with their hearts on fire:
Let Zion's
sons life up their voice, and sing
Carols and anthems to their heavenly king.
Let not your voice alone his praise forth tell,
But move withal, and praise him in the dance;
Cymbals and harps
, let them be tuned well,
'Tis he that doth the poor's estate advance:
Do this not only on the solemn days,
But on your secret beds you spirits raise.
O let the saints bear in their mouth his praise,
And a two-edged sword drawn in their hand,
Therewith for to revenge the former days,
Upon all nations, that their zeal withstand;
To bind their kings in chains of iron strong,
And manacle their nobles for their wrong.
Expect the time, for 'tis decreed in heaven,
Such honor shall unto his saints be given.
4.2k
Fire, Fire, Babylon shall retire
Mind invasion shall expire
Them ghetto youth we shall inspire
Guide and protect them as them acquire…
A full overstanding of a materialization,
Conquering our souls' conception
Peace upon the mind opens doors to realization
That fi ah ghetto youth's materialism be them destruction.
Free your mind, pure thy soul and free thyness from hate
Babylon wickedness shall encounter its fate
Heavens are open for those who livicate
Them souls in vision to reach the holy gate.
Marihuana elevate I and I to be self-conscious
Jah people we forever righteous
Babylon can search and conquer, them never find us
Jah shall protect us from everything malicious.
Hail King Selassie for his pure wisdom
In holy Mount Zion shall we find our freedom
Jah do save us, Babylon is taking us at random
Rise Rasta rise, the system can never shut us down.
Pretty soon we shall all share the peace and joys
It’s all a matter of internal choice
Right up Mount Zion shall Babylon perish from our anointed voice
Oh yes Babylon...in heaven we shall all rejoice.
May 31, 2015
May 31, 2015 at 9:33 AM UTC
Your Messiah is not Christ
my Karma is not your dogma
Their AntiChrist is not the Mahdi
His avatar is not yet manifest
Our Dajjal is not their 12th Imam
Your Brahman is not my Elohim
The Atman is not the God-Man
Your God-Man is Luciferian
Our Lucifer is not their Allah
The Djinn are undocumented
some angels fell
Allah is not Ras Tafari
Their Zion is Babylon
Jerusalem is Egypt or *****
Their Angels are ascended Masters
Our Master is your ascended Savior
My Savior is your accuser
Their God is no Savior
His unction is Satanic
The war is spiritual
The Spirit is not obvious
My anointing is carnal
their anointing is moronic
our doctrine is angelic
Your rejection was predestined
our acceptance is divine
Our depravity is documented,
your sanctity is illusory
their power is diabolic
their light is darkness
Their leader is ungodly
Our God is unseemly
His Truth is offensive
The bitter is not sweet
the sweet is unworldly
the world is not heavenly.
Trinity in seven spirits, yet God is One…
Revel in the uncertainty. Have some holy fun
fitting more angels on the pin-head, dancing
before they fall. Rebellion is always entrancing
until the current postmodern theology
hooks up with psycho-sexual linguistic pathology.
Don’t accept my apology
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 8:57 PM UTC
Going out with thy ecstatic rile,
Sun soaked cherubic smile,
You impale my ziel senile,
I slay a thousand miles
To meet ya' at Zion's isles....
Jul 20, 2017
Jul 20, 2017 at 6:58 AM UTC
Zinging the zen-zone I was in
A zany request zig-zagged my way.
Princess Zinnia from the Zuider-Zee
Required a zippy line or two
To paint the zeitgeist of our times.
With the strength of a Zamboni-
With the power of a Zeus-
And an uncommon zeal I set out
To zap the doubt that slowed me.
With the flair of a Florenz Ziegfeld
And his zoftig choir of beauties,
I morphed into a zealot
Gamboling in the zephyrs
That wafted in from Zurich and Zaire,
Not to mention Zanzibar.
I felt like a Zacharias
When my zealous work went bust.
The writing turned into a zonk-
The accolades were zilch.
I felt like I’d been zippered up
Like a zebra in a zoo.
I lost my zest for going on
And slopped around in old Zoris,
Listening to zydeco’s beat
And feeling like a zit.
But then the Zodiac-
My zinging-singing sign
Came to my rescue
And I was marching off to Zion.
I was one wowie-zowie-zucchini
As I zipped across the pages
And zoomed from one idea
To an even zippier one.
So here, Sunprincess, is your verse
I’ve used up every letter zee
And gone from very bad to worse
But of this challenge, I am free.
ljm
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 12:58 AM UTC
footsteps are echoing
down a corridor long since empty.
as they resonate,
a ghost stirs from it's slumber within me.
each passing sunset
a key turns the lock,
to reveal the Creature of the Night,
the sweet Darkness I'd forgot.
like the pages of a book
browned & tattered, lying unread
your scent awakens
a soul I was certain was dead.
how refreshing you are,
blood upon my white dress.
a release from gripping fear,
I crave your death on my breath.
let us massacre the stars
& chance Hell on the Kid's gaskets.
Heretics by nature,
we can spite the Gods
& waste life on their caskets.
you feed me the poison of my father,
& your name rings a painful past,
you've destroyed the world as I know it
& filled my nightmares with your laugh.
devouring words of evil
& Satan himself on film,
I think, my dearest Devil,
I have fallen under your spell.
still a single thought, it haunts me.
a doubt, deep in my mind.
when I smile, do you see my submission to you,
would you pleasure me with your bite?
I haven't fed in so long,
can I bind you to my dungeon wall?
each sunrise we part,
I pray to the moon
for my blood in your heart.
these tombs in me,
breathe life once again.
be my Dark Prince
& I, your Babylonian.
we can spread our scabbed wings
across the eternity of Zion,
put our faith in the flesh we see
& forsake the terrible dawn.
our eyes betray our sign,
& our hearts beat in the South.
but the torture we could bring each other is divine,
let our cries erase the doubt.
we cherish the scars of our skin,
yet we are not brave.
getting closer to God, becomes a Requiem
& the bedroom can be our grave.
Sep 12, 2012
Sep 12, 2012 at 10:54 AM UTC
I twist and turn,
Suffle in my
Hospital bed.
The drum of
The dextrose drops,
Plays as the background
For my despondent lulluby.
Clickering and clackering;
The white feet
On the frozen
Hospital floor
Feature the vocals
Of the weeping relatives
I do not know.
A chorus
Of morose songs
That bellow
From the valley
Of faded faces
Dulls the senses
Of the patients
In the ICU.
Doctors wearing
White garbs
With darkened eyes
Whisper to each other
Like a cult gathering
With prayers
And curses
On their lips.
They appear
To me
Like snakes
On the tree
Throwing sins
And travesties
To the
Invalid saints.
I, fight fervently
Against sleep.
Although almost
Twenty-four,
Am a child
Again.
A child who
Detests sleep
Like the plague
That took me.
In this hospital bed
I start my vigil;
A pilgrim to zion
Daunted by
The task before him.
Beset on all sides
By treasures
And trinkets
That would
Want him stray.
My eyes serve
As the lamp
To which
My body,
A servant,
Keeps alight.
In wait
For the return
Of the master.
An encounter
To rekindle
The bond
In childhood.
A chance
To decide
Which fashion
It will end.
So eyes,
Stay alight,
For your oil
Will only
Last one night;
Keep the fight.
Despondency
May fill these
Final moments
But at the moment
Of the master's
Return
The chorus
Of faded faces
Will turn into
Choirs of angels
And there;
Sleep.
Nov 5, 2014
Nov 5, 2014 at 8:42 AM UTC
Never until the mankind making
Bird beast and flower
Fathering and all humbling darkness
Tells with silence the last light breaking
And the still hour
Is come of the sea tumbling in harness
And I must enter again the round
Zion of the water bead
And the synagogue of the ear of corn
Shall I let pray the shadow of a sound
Or sow my salt seed
In the least valley of sackcloth to mourn
The majesty and burning of the child's death.
I shall not ******
The mankind of her going with a grave truth
Nor blaspheme down the stations of the breath
With any further
Elegy of innocence and youth.
Deep with the first dead lies London's daughter,
Robed in the long friends,
The grains beyond age, the dark veins of her mother,
Secret by the unmourning water
Of the riding Thames.
After the first death, there is no other.
2.8k
GAZA
I shall rescue you
GAZA
I'll **** Sons of Zion
YEAH
I will cut their trees
YEAH
They'll kneel on their knees
GAZA
I shall get you free
PALESTINE
Someday will be free
……………………………………………….
……………………………………………….
If I'm the president
I shall, shall send
My powers to this land
In order to defend
From now until the war end
Cuz everything's for you GAZA
……………………………………………….
……………………………………………….
GAZA
I shall rescue you
GAZA
I'll **** Sons of Zion
YEAH
I will cut their trees
YEAH
They'll kneel on their knees
GAZA
I shall get you free
PALESTINE
Someday will be free
……………………………………………….
……………………………………………….
How dare they ?
How can they ?
Killing people everyday
Is not legal at anyway
Israel, where's your shame ?
You're whom we can blame
About all of your crimes
Everything's for you GAZA
……………………………………………….
……………………………………………….
GAZA
I shall rescue you
GAZA
I'll **** Sons of Zion
YEAH
I will cut their trees
YEAH
They'll kneel on their knees
GAZA
I shall get you free
PALESTINE
Someday will be free
……………………………………………….
……………………………………………….
U.S.A with them
No, even all this world with 'em
I'll stay, so as to defend
I'm honest, and I want to help
Every needy body in this world
So what about GAZA ?
Everything's for you GAZA
……………………………………………….
……………………………………………….
GAZA
I shall rescue you
GAZA
I'll **** Sons of Zion
YEAH
I will cut their trees
YEAH
They'll kneel on their knees
GAZA
I shall get you free
PALESTINE
Someday will be free
……………………………………………….
……………………………………………….
I do send an invitation
To anyone, from any nation
Either African orEuropean
Either American or Asian
Either someone like my friend
Or another like my worst enemy
GAZA is burning
And all of us are watching
Why we are watching ?
Cuz we have no solidarity,
No respect and no humanity
Let's give everything to GAZA
YEAH, everything's for you GAZA
……………………………………………….
……………………………………………….
GAZA
I shall rescue you
GAZA
I'll killSons of Zion
YEAH
I will cut their trees
YEAH
They'll kneel on their knees
GAZA
I shall get you free
PALESTINE
Someday will be free
……………………………………………….
……………………………………………….
Finally, could I ask you just one question ? But I need a honest answer
How much have you prayed For our brothers and sisters in GAZA ? ? ? ? ? ? ?
Oct 7, 2014
Oct 7, 2014 at 11:34 AM UTC
I was a zygote swimming in a pool of natural
Energy, just right for the formation of life.
We were all just so, had there been chemistry?
Had there even been a magical mystery to this
Formation of the being, their biological clocks
Ticking against the backdrop of evolutionary Zion
Time, the want of stepping outside oneself, knowing?
This is that zygote, it's chemistry a part of all things,
All creations of this world, the same as this solar system,
Comprised of all of the natural energy that was formed
So many billions of years ago, just like a nucleus presence,
A fire...sparked by other star kindling, a mystery indeed...
Without any solid chemical biology of science.
In the human body? Oxygen, Hydrogen, Carbon, Nitrogen,
Calcium Phosphorous, and in the sun? Hydrogen, Nitrogen,
Yes even Oxygen, as well as Carbon. I think you see that
There is a valid connection.
Apr 30, 2015
Apr 30, 2015 at 2:40 PM UTC
Me love agony, seen?
Me hate baldheads, seen?
Me love collie, seen?
Me hate duppies, seen?
Me love easing up, seen?
Me hate fishes, seen?
Me love ***** seen?
Me hate harbour sharks, seen?
Me love "irie's", seen?
Me hate janga, seen?
Me love kush, seen?
Me hate lagga heads, seen?
Me love mateys, seen?
Me hate nyng'i-nying'i, seen?
Me love o-dokono, seen?
Me hate passa passa, seen?
Me love quashes, seen?
Me hate running belly, seen?
Me love science (witchcraft), seen?
Me hate toto, seen?
Me love uptown goodas, seen?
Me hate vixxin', seen?
Me love wheels, seen?
Me hate da yout, seen?
Me love Zion, seen?
Me fuckin' love Zion
Dec 1, 2014
Dec 1, 2014 at 6:38 PM UTC
in my city, my pretty pretty city,
People lock their doors driving through my pretty pretty city.
in my city, my pretty pretty city,
Dogs are the kings in my pretty pretty city.
in my city, my pretty pretty city,
Harlots bargain with panderers in my pretty pretty city.
in my city, my pretty pretty city,
Felons avoid the police by hiding in schools, in my pretty pretty city.
in my city, my pretty pretty city,
Eye contact is discouraged, in my pretty pretty city.
in my city, my pretty pretty city,
Walking alone can be the biggest mistake you ever made, in my pretty pretty city.
Oh-
but in my city, my pretty pretty city,
the sea sends you salty, sandy kisses, in my pretty pretty city.
Oh-
and in my city, my pretty pretty city,
the railroad tracks take you to Zion from my pretty pretty city.
Oh-
in my city, my pretty pretty city
i have left behind my blood and promises to return.
Oh-
my city, in my pretty pretty city,
hearts break, while others mend,
tears fall, while smiles are conceived,
hate roams, while lovers love,
fear attacks, while fortitude prevails,
Oh-
my city, my pretty pretty city,
that's where i belong.
Sep 17, 2012
Sep 17, 2012 at 11:59 PM UTC
I did it, I ain't proud.
If you felt de pain in my urethra,
You'd know.
Had a flashback to me pirate days.
The ocean's waves crash upon de shore.
swish, swish
Me bask in da cool breeze.
Of de Zion Waterfall.
swish, swish
Me hands bleedin' from me wounds.
Turn on de tap and me can't take it no more.
swish, swish
Me urges take a hold of me.
Where to release? How? When?
swish, swish
I'm stuck in de corner, belly churning.
Bottle in de corner of me eye, me start turning.
swish, swish
I'm face-to-face wit salvation.
Fly down, piece out, release de flow!
pssssssssssss
Ahhhhhh, ohhhhhh.
What's an island boy to do?
No toilet, Mo' problems
Dec 2, 2014
Dec 2, 2014 at 10:15 PM UTC
I was out wit me doopas.
I was wailin' on a massive blunt.
Feet up, eased up, havin' a blem time.
All of a sudd'n, de fuzz comes out front.
There's nowhere to hide.
Gotta rid the scene of me stuff.
Look back and de fuzz ain't der.
Decide to take one last puff.
De sirens start shriekin'
Dey're almost here, no where to go.
Do I stick me sliff in de ground?
I stuff it up me nose.
Sense of smell is lost from de heat.
Feels like a fresh poptart was squeezed in me snout.
De burning tingles, very bad, very bad.
About to cry when de cops see me, no time to shout.
He walks a little closer, I cringe.
An island bwai wouldn't last in prison
For de love of Zion, don't get caught.
Finally we're face-to-face, I start pissin'
De man looks down at de pool of ****
He asks, "that's the hiding spot you chose?"
He rips da spliff rite outta me snout.
Dat's why you never stuff it up ya nose.
Dec 3, 2014
Dec 3, 2014 at 11:21 PM UTC
Hail, happy saint, on thine immortal throne,
Possest of glory, life, and bliss unknown;
We hear no more the music of thy tongue,
Thy wonted auditories cease to throng.
Thy sermons in unequall’d accents flow’d,
And ev’ry ***** with devotion glow’d;
Thou didst in strains of eloquence refin’d
Inflame the heart, and captivate the mind.
Unhappy we the setting sun deplore,
So glorious once, but ah! it shines no more.
Behold the prophet in his tow’ring flight!
He leaves the earth for heav’n’s unmeasur’d height,
And worlds unknown receive him from our sight.
There Whitefield wings with rapid course his way,
And sails to Zion through vast seas of day.
Thy pray’rs, great saint, and thine incessant cries
Have pierc’d the ***** of thy native skies.
Thou moon hast seen, and all the stars of light,
How he has wrestled with his God by night.
He pray’d that grace in ev’ry heart might dwell,
He long’d to see America excell;
He charg’d its youth that ev’ry grace divine
Should with full lustre in their conduct shine;
That Saviour, which his soul did first receive,
The greatest gift that ev’n a God can give,
He freely offer’d to the num’rous throng,
That on his lips with list’ning pleasure hung.
“Take him, ye wretched, for your only good,
“Take him ye starving sinners, for your food;
“Ye thirsty, come to this life-giving stream,
“Ye preachers, take him for your joyful theme;
“Take him my dear Americans, he said,
“Be your complaints on his kind ***** laid:
“Take him, ye Africans, he longs for you,
“Impartial Saviour is his title due:
“Wash’d in the fountain of redeeming blood,
“You shall be sons, and kings, and priests to God.”
Great Countess, we Americans revere
Thy name, and mingle in thy grief sincere;
New England deeply feels, the Orphans mourn,
Their more than father will no more return.
But, though arrested by the hand of death,
Whitefield no more exerts his lab’ring breath,
Yet let us view him in th’ eternal skies,
Let ev’ry heart to this bright vision rise;
While the tomb safe retains its sacred trust,
Till life divine re-animates his dust.
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I long to be a patient companion
who stays to listen to every unspoken word & whispered plea
when all else run out of compassion
for an anxious pilgrim in deep, tiresome agony
Through fires and rains,
An enduring and trusting friend as a friend can be
guilty pleasures and pains,
understanding as Christ has been, you’ve been to me
I long to be a faithful companion
‘cause despite hurting still
you have not left me abandoned
rather daily still, you make me want to live and will
to overcome life’s bitter ordeals
and see His manifold glory revealed
So let me be your companion
write stories of mercy ’til we fill up an entire canon
Through the devil's canyon,
conquering the flames of angered dragons,
all the while marvelling at the Creator of the Grand Canyon
Journeying today and tomorrow with zealous passion
Together, until the day we arrive home in Zion.
Aug 18, 2021
Aug 18, 2021 at 11:34 PM UTC
Praise ye the Lord. Sing unto the
Lord a new song, and his praise
in the congregation of saints.
2 Let Israel rejoice in him that
made him: let the children of Zion be
joyful in their King.
3 Let them praise his name in the
dance: let them sing praises unto him
with the timbrel and harp.
4 For the Lord taketh pleasure
in his people: he will beautify the
meek with salvation.
5 Let the saints be joyful in glory:
let them sing aloud upon their beds.
6 Let the high praises of God be
in their mouth, and a twoedged sword
in their hand:
7 To execute vengeance upon the
heathen, and punishments upon the
people:
8 To bind their kings with chains,
and their nobles with fetters of iron;
9 To execute upon them the
judgment written: this honour have all his
saints. Praise ye the Lord.
Aug 19, 2013
Aug 19, 2013 at 10:50 AM UTC