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Narrative Forgiveness Poems | Narrative Poems About Forgiveness

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Details | Narrative | |

The Long-Suffering Wife

Believing that marriage was ordained of God; 
that, like a seed, it needed constant nurturing, 
she sowed her deep devotion with a hope 
that stretched beyond an ordinary scope. 
That hope scanned schisms that had left her desolate-
until it reached the heavens with her prayers.

Time and time again, her spouse complained or failed to do small things
essential to cementing the marriage bond.
With unusual restraint, she held her tongue, forgave. . . and listened.
If matrimony were the fire in a hearth, she supplied the kindling and the logs;
then lauded him for twigs that on occasion he tossed in. 
Some nights she’d lay a weary head upon the chest 
of the one she called her husband (when he was fast asleep and didn’t know). 
In those moments, she felt the beat of that heart he never showed to her.

With humbleness she supplicated God 
that she might find connection with her mate.
She wondered and she wondered why. . .if thoughts, invisible, 
which were transmitted to the Lord, were able to be recieved by Him,
why could not her words, directly spoken to the one on earth she loved, be heard?

Daily on her knees, she telegraphed celestially with a faith most extraordinary. . . 
and wisdom came. Her love would not be broken, and she grew. 
The seed she’d planted took root too and grew until there came a time. . .
she laid a graying head upon the chest
of one that was her husband (not just in word only); 
a someone who now watched HER as she drifted off to sleep. 
With his heartbeat strong in her ear,
she heard him whisper softly, “I love you” as he kissed her cheek goodnight.


For Audrey Carey's "To Err Is Human to Forgive Divine"


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My White Lace Tablecloth

I washed my white lace tablecloth and hung it out to dry
The bleach did the best it could-it was worth the try
'Though no one else can see, the stain still remains
As old as time itself 
Stubborn as mildew rot

One false step, one careless word forever etched in time
Travels the universe, endlessly
In search of a place to rest  
What would I not give to reverse that step
To retrieve that hateful word

Tread lightly in your daily walk, o'er hills and valleys in between
Plot well your steps and weigh your words
So you'll have nothing to regret, like the
Unkind words carved deeply upon your heart
I wash my white lace tablecloth again, again and again!
~*~
10/09/2007


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''oh, the tears, the tears''



the day the doctor told me you were dying
     mother, I was so afraid, unsure and frightened
unclear of what to do and so I listened to others
          I should have brought you home to die
               but I did not do that, no I didn't

you could have been at home with me at your side
    in your own bed with your purring sweet cat
and soothing music and a view of azure blue sky
          that cat waited and searched for you, mom
               for months and months and months

when you got sick I did not hesitate to move home
     we were like happy roommates in the beginning
then ever so slowly I was doing all the banking
          the groceries, the cooking, while still working
               I became your mother over time

but I did not mind one moment of that journey
     we talked and talked and buried all the anger
I would have done anything for you, even given my life
          because you were the one person who loved
              me, without reserve, totally and completely

and when the end came, mom, I failed you bitterly
     I should have brought you home to die, I know now
so I am begging for 'forgiveness' from you and from God
         this pain, a knife in my heart every day, I breathe
              but my forgiveness will never come, never ever

                   "oh, the tears, the tears . . . "



______________________________________
February 16, 2015

narrative



For the contest, Forgiveness, sponsor, Rob Carmack


8th place


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blank

there are so many things
i want to tell you
i'm sorry for saying i'm sorry with teary eyes
and raged breath
i want you to know that i regret
walking away, i bet
you are much more happy now
and if you'd let me write
a poetry of you and me
you will only see blanks
that only both of us
can fathom


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For My Daddy

your footsteps were crooked and a little off kilter
though I still tried to match your steps
your way of doing things was always a bit different
(detrimental to impressionable souls)

maybe you were not Mr. Brady or Leave it to beavers dad
but you were my dad…..and the only one I have….

through all the ruckus and the lunacy 
I was a little girl who cried for you (while you cried)
through the tatter of ripped seams and too much whiskey
I whispered “its ok daddy” and I hurt for you….

so maybe you were never perfect in any sense….
and a round peg in a square hole trying to make a place
confused and confounded by life and its roller coaster ride
but I adored you in my broken heart (standing loyal)
through the crazy that you put me through

this one is for you daddy….and there is a silver lining
in every cloud that stings the sky…..beneath the rain
I have a smile I can toss to you through the downpour
and my small hands hold yours through the tempest
my eyes gazing up and watching each mistake you make
and loving you so much anyway…what else can I do?


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Freedom From The Dead Earth

where were you when my world stopped moving? 
your hands were there as instruments of pain 
to inflict raw red burns and 
wounds that lay hidden and bruised 
           on a child’s skin and….. 
on tender hearts that can’t fight back 

are you haunted buried six feet beneath… 
as I shivered at night and grinded my teeth?   
  
do you think of me and wonder what shreds 
I managed to piece together of my tattered life? 
  
tell me to let go and forget this hurt 
that winds like poison ivy twisting 
my heart into a mere tenth of what it could be 
strangled in a mass of life eating lies 
and mangled sorrowful soul songs 
                      (mourning the sword slashes)   

you never knew me and would you have cared 
if you did…would you have wrangled with me 
hanging on a hook while you dangled me 
helpless and crying beneath a weeping moon 
that still watches me with helpless eyes 
                                          (pity resting there) 
  
             a child is priceless 
(innocence is worth more than gold) 
            and taking their lives 
unforgivable….so I wonder…are you punished 

do you cry in your darkness 
knowing what you have done 

will it pierce a naked sky with madness…. 
your cry? Or is any semblance of sanity gone 
buried beneath your shawl of rabid dog bites 
and sad listless body 
wasting into the sun as it flows back to earth 
going nowhere as I flounder in my own broken fate 
     (swimming upstream as I slowly drown) 

loss cannot be retrieved.....for it is lost 
                 and letting go 
                                    (finding peace) 
is my way of revenge on you …. 
so I let go now…I am free of you… 

and I toss it all back to you 
careful when you catch it…it burns the skin 

the hands of destiny are crying out to me 
I pull that little girl out of darkness 
and let her see the sunshine again 
as she smiles in to the light and takes my grown up hand 
and I will keep her safe from you 

hate is poison and I let it go….it crushes me no more


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Deer

His family had lived here all their lives untold and he had too.

His father had died when he was young and he vaguely remembered him.

Mom tried to cross the busy street which she had been warned.

She had instantly been killed as her family watched with horror and fascination.

 

No funeral just sadness as the machines whizzed by but the last of his kind remembers.

As a youth, he had run and played in these fields but steered away from the machines 

as he had been warned.

The machines are fast and you must always watch for them and be clear.

The woods were loved as he chased the young females until they let him catch.

 

He had two of his own children but they had died at very young age.

And soon after, the big trucks came with the men that would be vilified.

They uprooted one hundred year old oak and built twenty homes.

Across the road where the field was, forty more were taken from his youth.

 

The last of his family had all been married out or were dead until he was alone.

And as he walked and looked, he was frightened and filled with grief.

He saw his mother standing gracefully at the top of the house filled field.

His brother and sister played until dusk when his mother would call and recall.

 

He ached  where he ran and still he searched.

As the tear rolled away with those distant memories and the pain.

Slowed by the ache he laid his final time with grief.

And he knew he was the last and his youth died with him.

 

 

 

 

The last deer


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The Old Rugged Cross Suffered The Worlds Greatest Loss

 

My favorite of songs is The Old Rugged Cross.
   The most tragic of days was the worlds’ greatest loss.
For sinners that day were all given their chance.
   His Father in heaven could not even bear to look not even one glance.
Forgive them He prayed as His life’s blood ran down to the ground.
   Can you picture Him there wearing that thorny old crown?
On that hill so far away, sad but precious memories were made.
    Born of a virgin mother in the tomb He was laid.
Death could not hold Him, death would not last.
    Three days in that tomb, so long ago, death too it would pass.
He arose and was seen by many it was said.
    Our Savior arose from the grave and no longer was dead.
As He gave His final words to His apostles and friends.
    He ascended to the clouds but they knew they would see Him again.
He made us a promise He would rule once again.
     I feel that day is coming we’re reaching the end.
The prophecies that abound.
     With each new day they seem to be coming unwound.
Are you ready my friend for the Millennium Reign?
     Are have you sunk to wearing the mark worn by Cain?
Sacrifices my friend we all have to do.
    Just look at Jesus and the sacrifice He made, was made just for you .
So on that hill so far away I kneel at the thought.
    With His precious blood my cleansing was bought.
And what have we learned, or did He die just for nought?
    I look to Jesus and His love I have sought.
He must come first in all that we do.
    And when the day comes you’ll see I speak true.
                       


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A Blind Sunset

He glances out the window,
And watches the sunset,
But he doesn’t see the beauty,
Nor the warm rays which, 
Pierces through the glass,
Only the anticipation and, 
Anxiety of a long night,

Carefully, he watches, 
The colors change,
First the bright orange, 
"God I pray this never ends…"
Filling with a deep red,
"Just a little while longer…"
Slowly softening to the, 
Deceptive pinks and purples,
"Please, one more minute…"
Fading into the crimson black,
Which only night can bring,

Reluctantly, he gets ready for sleep,
Yet, knows it will never come,
He tossed and turns,
Half praying, half waiting,
Knowing what will happen,
In the way only a child can,

A light! It peeks through a crack,
In the door as a shadow floods the opening,
Quickly, the figure slips through the door,
And shuts it softly, but not without the,
Empty creak which has become so familiar,
The shadow climbs in beside him,
Touching his trembling leg, whispering,

“Hush little brother, it’ll be alright,
While I’m here, have no fear,
I’ll keep you safe tonight,”

He struggles and writhes,
Sadly knowing he will never,
Break the grip and prays to faint,
To loss all consciousness and,
Memory of that horrible night,
Just for one night without the pain,
Just for one night without, 
The cold empty feeling, 

Several years pass, too many to count, 
A single call, one he had never expected,
He rushes to the hospital to find, 
His tormentor for so many years,
Lying on a cold, hard bed,
Able to move, but only by pushing a button,
Able to speak, but only with a whisper,

He stays by him for weeks, caring for him,
Reading to him, watching over him,
Still suffering, still unable to move, 
He takes his brother home, 

The day goes on, moving slow as all,
The evening comes and he,
Watches once more as the sun sets,
Carefully watching, Orange to red,
Red to purple, and as the purple turns to black,
He walks into the room where his brother lies,
Slowly, he sits next to him, holding a pillow,
Stroking his head whispering,

“Hush big brother, it’ll be alright,
While I’m here, have no fear,
I’ll keep you safe tonight,”

The difference between right and wrong,
Can be hard to find,
But who’s there to see you,
When justice is blind?



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THOUGHTS

A calm fell over me as I arose from my birth,
A hush falls over the Earth,
As if God had, once more given birth to a new Universe.

I looked up and thought I saw, 
His bright smile reflected in the sun,
His angels were all dancing in glee,
Smiling and singing for you and  for me.

I felt His Presence,  oh! so near,
As if He was saying, "Oh my dears,
I love you so much I had to make,
New worlds for you to take".

And I thought, as His new day greeted me,
"What a kind and loving Father is He,
He greets us with a new World made from above,
 and all He wants in return, is our Love."


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GREET THE LITTLE KING

Greet the little King,
who has been born in a cold manger
on the holiest of nights;
and by the glitter of a descending star,
He will spread peace in the land...
follow the shepherds and find that sight! 


My gift to Him is my joyful song,
and with this clarinet I will usher in His coming...
walk side by side with the pretty angels and rejoice;
bring Him your gift, and surround Him with joy!
See the three Magi arriving on jewel-draped camels,
holding in their laps the gifts of His destiny.  


A winter's night has always been completely bright,
every hill is hidden by darkness, but an heavenly light 
appears across the frosty sky of Bethlehem, while divine
voices announce Emmanuel's glorious birth,
everyone wakes up and sees that star and follows it;
and where it stops, they find a baby without a crown.   


Greet the Son of the Highest, the Wonderful Redeemer, 
whom the Virgin Mary has borne in the humblest of places...
in the small town without a temple, or a palace for the Emperor,
where Mary and Joseph will train their child in Godly ways;
greet the little king, He will smile and invite you in,
and His smile will spread peace beyond the star-lit hill. 
 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Dear Friend

From my heart to yours,
you are a precious man,
from the very first time,
I read your work,
it was not hard to understand.
The trials you endured,
the pain, and the tears,
locked away,
you found your Saviour so near.
Let no man or woman,
who dwells on this earth,
spit on a heart so sweet,
all I can say,
is they have the nerve.
Walk tall my friend,
may the wind,
always push you forward,
and pray for the lost,
and the foolish cowards.
I don't know what was said,
or who is to blame,
forgive them dear friend,
and ask for the same.
We as a people,
have a journey of our own,
each, and everyone,
should know right from wrong.
Continue on your path,
you have much to do,
and remember the devil,
will use a few.
I call you friend,
as many here do,
and from my heart to yours,
I wish only the best for you.

Michael Jordan, you are a special kind of man.
One that I am proud to call my friend.......
One if ever needed would not turn his back...
I have never met you, but I can say,
actions speak very strong...for you are willing
to reach out, and help...to me, you have what it takes
to be a lighthouse for others....


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To What Do We Owe Thee?

To what do we owe thee for the sacrifice of your son?
The shedding of His precious blood to show love for everyone.
The death of Christ was necessary to save us from our sin,
For the glory of our Heavenly Father, life and peace within.
The gift of salvation was our God's compassionate plan,
As He included all mankind from each and every land.
The emblem of the rugged cross was filled with suffering and shame,
But eternal life was God's purpose all in Jesus' name.
At first Jesus spoke not a word, as He hung there on the cross,
The propitiator for all our sins, so we would not be lost.
As the hour neared for Christ's death, He murmured a forgiving word,
He directed His wish and last request as He looked upon the Lord.
"Forgive them Father",  Jesus said,  "For they know not what they do",
Through pain and anguish, He stayed on the cross just to save me and you.
Jesus' mission was accomplished when He hung His head and died,
The nails driven in His hands and feet, two thieves hung by His side.
The victory of death was heartbreaking, and it seemed all hope was gone,
But now our Saviour Jesus Christ sits right hand on the throne.
What an awesome act of love, delivered with no charge or fee,
To God be the glory for all He's done, everlasting life is free!




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Apology

I whisked the heavens for a soothing sign
Swirled moonlight of Luna’s crescent smile
Searching for redemption's last sinew
That a wounded love faithfully clings to

I asked the stars for strength of sterling sight
To illuminate the missteps of a fractured mind
Trapped in a glass garden of Eden’s broken heart
Fragrant pieces of her sorrow carved into mine

I tasted the poison of regurgitated resolve
Memories marinating on the tip of my teething tongue 
But forgiveness does not dangle on unspoken words
Which need not be poetic, but merely heard


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Me, Myself, and I - (Part 2)

Hello Friends... I suffer from Severe Bi-Polar Disorder and this submission was inspired by 
actual events that occured during one of my especially critical manic episodes. Be sure and 
read Part 1 first so as to get the true gist of the poem and leave your comments here on the 
Part 2 submission. Thank you for allowing me to share my pain for pain shared is pain 
diminished.


Me, Myself, and I... (continued)


“Your, (Or “Our”), symptoms seem to intermit
		And the fact that “You’re,” (“We’re”), a hypocrite
Tis no wonder we’re having such problems with diagnosis”

Then “I” had an idea so grand
		To dispense with this at my own hand
A self-inflicted coup de grace would be my prognosis


So while the “Me” and the “Myself” squabbled
		With courage newly cobbled
“I” spotted the dresser drawer and made my run

With fingers fiercely fumbling
		Whilst they continued grumbling
“I” produced from the depths of the drawer a shiny gun


And now my life, though ill-fated
		Was soon to be vindicated
This would affect us all equally the same

Would be no myself or me
		No you, him, us, or we
But an inclusive all would be to blame


It took me a moment to figure
		Out the safety on the trigger
Then “I,” (or “Us”), prepared to do the dirty deed

Then the barrel found my temple
		And as it settled into the dimple
A still small voice did my “selves” choose to heed


Hence a moment of clarity 
		Harkened me to posterity
And I thought what a legacy to leave behind

“Can’t we all find a way
		To save this miserable day
And avoid a broken body for someone to find”


And then deep within my soul
		I felt and heard a simple drum roll
And the differing sides of me just subsided

And with my mind now as one
		I worked to get this all undone
The whole business of this stuff I derided


And tis now true of fact
		That I survived this ordeal intact
And lived to raise my face unto the sky
 
And here now as it ends
		I find I’ve made good friends
With the “Me”, the “Myself,” and the “I”


Thank you for taking the time to share in my poetry. Please feel free to leave your thoughts 
or comments here on this page. 

J. Scott Burns...


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The People Around Me

Things seems to be very clear,
When actually felt it is unclear,
What really seems to be clear,
May never ever be clear for ever.

Your help for others,
May be to be appreciated,
Or taken as what is called,
to be uncounted.

My question is clear,
Why the help for others,
Is sometime never appreciated,
However it is always delivered. 

In response to ethics,
lingers in my mind the answer,
To help others is not to be recognised, 
But it is to be called someone, 
Who can be respected.

To all, continue to help,
Not to to be appreciated by others,
But to be respected by yourself.


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A Bitter Brew

Outside, there is a small trail
and  six steps 
separating me from those that pass on by,

Impossible, to hide, behind my ruby house coat
and synthetic flavoured...  
bitterly savoured, morning coffee

An old man walks by,
paced, in slow - rhythmic strides
in order to balance three bags
his aluminum collection

Toes, emerging from the tips of his tattered shoes,

As he spies me
we engage in observations

He is courteous, as he desists,
lowers, his head in his travels,
continues to descend down the hill
around the corner of my house,
heat scorching
 
This morning, 
all I can hope for

Is that he does not rip my garbage apart.


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JUST BEING NICE

JUST BEING NICE It is not that you were lying Something I do realize now That you were simply trying To just be nice, some ole how Let me point out here what I see I mistook your words of promise As something that might actually be Not a pile of dreams I hold as fondest Those things you say right to my face Like really dancing with me someday Or taking me out to eat at a fancy place It’s like you lead me on and that’s okay Because your thoughts are meant for good Saying what will keep me happy to be suffice Not to intentionally hurt me, you never would I understand now that you were just being nice I bet you wish I could find something else to do Like getting someone else to share my life with I can only apologize for wanting to be with you For my happiness with others was truly a myth I appreciate and enjoy your company each day I know your time given is at a very high price As time is more valuable than money they say So thanks for the time and for just being nice Florence McMillian (Flo)


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The Final Confessions I

These are my confessions
Secrets of my mind
Everything that mattered
Truth I can not hide

Nothing but a shadow
Distant memory
What I was, What I am
What I’m supposed to be

Forgive me, God, forgive me
For being so unkind
Impatient…ungrateful
Cynical and blind

To those who thought they knew me
And those who never did
To those who hear my songs 
In the places where they live

I offer my confessions
Honest to the core
Offer my confessions
There won’t be anymore

No more…


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I See You Looking at Me - Collab with EM




I see you looking at me
There is an old pang in my chest
there where your hands used to  caress
where your lips loved to roam
there were you called your home
There is an old flutter now
What is that in your eyes?
Is it real or just a disguise
I see you looking at me
That way….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
No, it can’t be
And in that instant your memory consumes me
   A roaring fire lighting the room
   Shadows dancing on the walls 
   We are drunk on desire
    ……breathing you
    ……holding you
    ……caressing your breasts
    ……kissing your body
    …... tasting your love upon my tongue

Unbelievable . . . panic sizes me
Don’t look at her -- flee
But in that moment my shattered heart
Leaps with joy 
I see your eyes
    …. and I feel the earth 
    …. moan with delight
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I wish the world would go away
I turn away from your stare
Look down at my shaking hands
I'm breathless...overwhelmed
I need to think....
Why now? Why here?
Out of nowhere…you appear
Oh, but....I want you
I sneak another peak
As my mind brings to my eyes the memories
It seems just yesterday
you looked at me that way
     ….when you undressed me
     ….when you caressed me
     ….when you made me understand
how a body can speak
the language of love
Never before
Never since....
has my body spoken
with the same eloquence
That language I first learned with you
I want you
But....the pain won't go away
you were too proud to say
I'm sorry
Oh....but my lips are getting moist
hungering for your kiss
I look your way
And…nothing matters but those eyes
My heart will give me away
Thundering in joy
It won’t be still!
    ….. Let me think
    ….. Let me think
Oh...Oh...but....I want you
Here you are….
You’ve made it over to me
Here you stand
Looking down at me…
Reaching for me….
Oh…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taking you into my arms – lifting 
Your eyes -- dark pools of honey
Your lips – full . . . moist . . . inviting 
Our bodies embrace – I am home
My prayers for another chance – answered by your kiss
Our words tumble over each other
Tears, laughter, kisses . . . relief
My beautiful darling – I’ve missed you
    …. Your smile
    …. your touch
    …. the way you look at me
Making love until the dawn
Our bodies intertwined 
My head resting upon your breasts
Listing to the rhythm of your heart – my heart
How beautiful you are my darling – 
Your love is fragrant and radiant
Filling my heart with light  . . . 
Look – I am glowing from within . . . 
But…wait…what’s this?
I feel a stiffness creeping into your body
WHAT –  fear seizes me – I can’t breath
My darling – abandon the hurt, the pain I have caused . .
I am on my knees begging 
   your forgiveness
   your love
How can I prove my love – 
   earn your trust?
I won’t leave – never again!
I love you
need you
you
you . . . 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
 
What if you hurt me again?
This time....I won't recover
This time….I won’t survive
It has taken so long
for this heart to mend
Down on your knees
Your eyes plead
I see the tears gather
Can I risk it?
Can I?
But then again
Can I risk going back to the emptiness
that you left behind
A life without you
was days and nights
of longing...for you
My fingers reach
For those unruly strands of hair
You turn your face into my palm
Planting a kiss
Your arms go around my waist
as you rest your head against my body
We're lost to the world
Our moment
Our truth
You're finally home
I bend down to whisper
"Stand up and walk me home
There is language….I want to hear
I want to hear your body speak to me.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And that night
In our hungry bed
The eloquence of our shared language
The body syllables of desire
The sound units of passion
The language of our love
Was heard by the world
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The story of a chance encounter between two old lovers
*********** Love lost and love found **************
A Collaboration by Eileen Manassian and David Meade


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Hugger

He woke and he got down on the creaking knees

He didn't know if God listened but  tried

His grandson was in a coma and God was asleep

But he said the prayer but  was afraid of the silence

God was the great politician in the sky

And his son Jesus would listen to the poll

When there was trouble God was the first name

Grabbing  his coffee he humbly turned to God

In his eyes it was humbly but he loved the sugar

As he sat stirring and  sweetened  thoughts 

The prayers flowed with his coffee

"Maybe God only listens to the regulars"

And he definitely wasn't one

It was  years and God was famished

The whispered prayer ended with death and the anger

"Why did you not take me"

"I have lived and gladly would take the grandson's place"

The pastor warmed up and the sisters hummed

The cup spilled over as the prayer of the faithful

He became a hugger and he covered each drink 

And the Irish believed in wake and liquor

He hugged the people tight and the salt became a scab

And God left him there with his drink


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The Emptiness of Life

Oh how frail is the life of mortals
Look at how our tongue treasures the taste of food
Without oxygen we die
We sleep as though we're dead

I've seen demagogs rising and falling
History hasn't been fair to their very great powers
In our virtues, our pride lights our vice
Oh such hypocrites at heart

Oh how our desires hook us like fish bones
Into doom we gleam
Until we see our fragile weakness on Earth
True repentance is just a dream

I've seen the Light I believe
The truth of God who lived as man
His sacrifice made me free
Oh such a hope of eternity I share


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The Woman In White

It was a cold and rainy night.
The stars were shining bright.
It seemed as if the world was at a pause and not a person was in sight.
I sat quietly in my car, 
the sound of music I heard blasting from a far.
I opened my door,
stepped out slowly and looked around.
Now suddenly the music stopped,
not a word is heard, not even a sound.
I turned my head, looked over my shoulder,
I saw a woman running.
She was wearing a white gown.
I couldn't help but wonder why this woman running
flaunted such a frown.
I followed her footsteps,
I listened for the sound.
Running through the darkness,
one question came to mind,
Who would leave this woman?
Who would be so heartless?
How can someone leave her when she is so obviously distraught?
Abruptly a sound was heard.
I came to a stop.
I listened closely.
It was a gunshot.
Now fearful I stood.
I began to run as fast as I could.
I ran so fast, I could hear my heart beating.
I came upon my car and noticed a woman bleeding.
She was gasping for air.
Someone had shot her and left her to die there.
It was as if they didn't even care.
She reached for my hand,
whispered softly to me
"never trust a man"
At that moment her hand dropped.
I knew her heart had stopped.
I looked at her white gown now dripping red.
I I cried to myself and pondered what she had said.
This could be me.
I could be lying here dead.
I will remember her words always.
They will haunt me for the rest of my days.
This moment I will never forget.
No man should ever be such a threat.

This was the day my life would change.
From this day on I would never be the same.
The lesson I learned here,
never have such fear.
Fear that will keep me from being free.
I learned that I can be happy just being me.


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Wrong

How does one cope with disappointment?
To know that you have become 
your own worst nightmare.

To know that others do not see you
as you see you.
Maybe you thought you weren't
the problem.

To find out that you are labeled
annoying, a jerk, a complete ass.

To look at yourself in the mirror
and hate who you have become.

To not even associate with the people
you have offended.

Not knowing if you can pick of the pieces
and move on.

Hoping that change can come quickly,
so that you do not feel as I do right now.

Not wanting to feel like this ever again.





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Mother

Forgive me.  I never knew You.
Placed into your womb, I grew to detest My Mother
as You never fit a mold as it is told to little girls or little boys
about Mother, so through great resentment,
I never really knew You, the Be-ing that was here.
Forgive me.

You wait for me now.
Your spirit perhaps returned to live in this place
and plane on which to learn whatever our souls do desire.
But I know a part of your spirit waits to greet me.
When I come Home it is you I will see
to have a conversation and it is for I to say ...
Forgive me.


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Follow The Winner

 Some folks always follow the winner 



 I didn't even have the courage 
To tell you how you made me feel 
Your laughter 
Your body language 
Way back then, 
A wall flower. 

you thought that I weren't good enough 
Undeveloped beauty 

Now, Virtuousness, 
I am blooming; 

People always follow the winner


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Forgiveness

Forgive and forget is what we hear all the time.
How can someone even say that when they don’t know me or this pain?
They expect me to forgive when someone has ripped a hole in my heart.
What gives, forgiving would just validate the wrong.
I will be damned if I going to let that happen.
NO…there was not one thought of my feelings, not one.

Yet the feelings I carry have so much power over me.
I don’t want to erase the wrong that has been done,
but having peace inside,,,would feel good right now.
This place I am at right now is not good for me and I know that.
There is beauty, happiness, and kindness around—I can see it. 
I need to break free, this cannot have this much power over me.
Sigh, forgiveness is so hard when you hurt so much.
Keep walking, take control—happy thoughts I was taught.
There was more to that, I was also taught to whistle a happy tune, funny.
Pondering that I need to look up and look, really look at kindness and love.
Smiling about this prospect seems to make me happy; a little glow inside.
Remembering the feelings at a time when I was in a better place is healing.
Its time to move on, life will be better.

Hey you, you’re still a you because that has not changed, but I forgive you, truly.
Laughing at who would have thought, I'm walking, smiling and whistling a happy tune.

Edward J Ebbs - Feburary 14, 2015


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''To err is human: to forgive, divine''--Alexander Pope

Abusive and African-American, my late step-dad 
     was a reverse racist,
an army sergeant, a Vietnam vet and a backhand,
     face-smacking sadist.

I used to bemoan that I was a white child
     (as if it were my fault!)
and that he was black and resentful of me.
     So once in reckless revolt

against his ongoing abuse
      I rebelled under my breath
by calling him the "n" word (and he
     nearly beat me to death).

Beaten, I never uttered that word again.
     Then Mom and he divorced
as I got older (which made things only worse);
     free at last, I felt no remorse.

Suddenly, I was the man of the house and life
     for us seemed less stormy;
for the first time in years we lived in happiness.
     At last, we were a family.

Then I got religion and met God
     and gave my life to Christ.
It was the best thing I ever did:
    I was born again, and it sufficed.

My anger, pain and bitterness which
    I had for years repressed
began to slowly disappear; and so I became
    less and less depressed.

By now, my former step-dad had grown old
     and had swelling of the lung;
I had not forgiven him yet back when
     I was still angry and young.

I could not forgive him for the abuse that
  made my life so utterly grim;
but I realized that the weight and burdens
     of not forgiving him

would be worse than what I've endured. I know 
     in life we all sin and transgress 
and come short of God's glory: so, moved by
      God's grace and forgiveness

I made up my mind to forgive him.
     A daily, ongoing process,
I was able to finally begin to let go of the anger 
      and truly begin to forgive the mess
 
that I had inherited from him. And I was
      able to begin forgiving God;
He was not to blame for my step-dad (who was also 
      beaten by his parents' lash and rod).

Though I was forgiving him and letting go, he was
     unmoved and unchanged as ever;
I had realized that what mattered was that my forgiveness
      had been changing me forever.

When he finally died, I had already completely
      let go and he was forgiven;
Now I can only wonder to God whether he had
      been changed by his view of heaven. 

























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If i have ever hurt anyone in any way I'm sorry

If i have ever hurt anyone in any way I'm sorry, cause I learned in the last two days that everybody has something wrong in their lives everybody has troubles in some way and one word u say could hurt them badly ... And one good thing u say could make their day so everybody I'm sorry if I ever hurt u in anyway.. And I hope everyone has a good day. No one deserves to be treated how u treat people, we all have feelings... And we all have made mistakes, and we all have issues but that's no reason to treat someone like u do Imam pray u get a heart and learn what you are doing is wrong. And I hope u stop. You say u hate drama? But girl u r drama! Just saying so from now on I am going to be me, I'm going to be myself not who everyone else wants me to be... (: cause being someone your not isn't right u shouldn't have to change for anyone..


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Journey home

The journey home is harder
Than the journey to the abyss
Coming back from so hard a trail
Is something I will not miss