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Narrative Peace Poems | Narrative Poems About Peace

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Birth, in a Quiet Room

“Well,” She asked; her eyes wide. Beads of hot sweat glistening on her brow like miniature 
crystal suns. Her angst was palpable. “What is it!”
     The air was still. There were no words. Just the sound of bodies breathing in – and 
holding.
     “Congratulations.” He held out his arms, handing the mother, her baby, “You have a son.”
     The moment shone like glass in the center of the heavens – pure and eternal.
     It was redemption from every wrong thing she’d ever done. 
     It was the shining eyes of God smiling onto her exhausted face; lighting it with hope.    
     It was the only place there was – the only time, the only space. 
     It was the only feeling that existed. 
     They were the only two incarnate souls in the room; on the planet, and in the universe.
     This was her child –
     her son.
     And she was his mother.

     (there are no words for such things. suddenly, I feel like an intruder. there are too many 
eyes, words and moments here. so it is here, I take my leave; leaving this mother and the 
only soul in her universe to their perfect moment. they will have many more moments in this 
lifetime; but none as sacred, as human, or as eternal as the first look from life to life; 
mother to child; heaven to earth, as the very first. None.)
     
“It’s a boy.” she whispered. Her throat a crumbling tunnel; stunned, but not really. Like 
she’d known it all along. “My baby boy…” She smiled into his ancient, brand-new face; 
tracing his delicate cheek with the back of her finger. “He’s perfect.” 
     She ran her palm along the bottom of his soft, miraculous foot, and laughed. “Look at 
your feet – they’re huge!”
     And as she wiped the tears with the heel of her shaking hand – smearing what was left of 
her mascara - she looked in to his, as close to heaven as one can get, eyes, and said, “Hi.
I’m your mama.” He smiled at her. He knew. He’d known it all along. “And I’ll love you 
forever…”
     The world closed its shades then. Leaving the sacred to its history; the moment to 
eternity; and their universe to its quiet, little room.
     


*Inspired by Deborah's, You Must Have Been A Beautiful Baby, contest; and every mother 
who has graced this sacred room.


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King and Queen for a Day

We bound down the stairs, out into the light-of-day, and into the blue of the
misty breezes, heavily laden with the smell of wild sea salt roses that grow in 
perfusion along the winding road, that bends and turns in gentle lifts and dips to 
the other side of the bay, where it crosses the bridge and rises up and winds 
away, over the hill.

Overhead the seagulls screech and glide over the ocean spray that washes on 
the rocks on the lower banks behind our house along the Fundy Bay, where we 
run like the wind through the fields of fresh cut hay and make our  way to the 
rocky mantle below .

There in the volcanic plateau, worn smooth as glass by the constant rolling 
weight of the ocean, is our pool, known by all in our village, as ‘Lizza’s Bathtub’, 
created by the eruption of the earth’s inner core, millennia’s ago.  

We slip into the still, salty water that has been warmed beneath the blazing sun, 
and float with the perry winkles and tiny crabs and  listen to the sound of the 
ocean, that roars beneath us as it leaves in the receding tide, while we drift 
away, in our minds, my little brother the ‘King’ and I, the ‘Queen’ for a day on 
the ‘Fundy Bay’.



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Climbing Levels Of Spiritual Enlightenment

learning from the past turning the dark into light grasping a lesson from our Father climbing levels of enlightenment The Almighty presents us with lessons each and everyday it is our job to acknowledge the lessons and grow from them Although presented in different ways we all go through the same lessons in life I call it "climbing levels of spiritual enlightenment" if you grasp the lesson presented and live by that lesson you will begin your climb if you fail to live by that lesson you will tumble back down over and over hence the lessons will be presented to you once again until you achieve them The lessons are not always pleasant as the flesh cries out in pain as I climb and fall throughout my life the agony is soon replace with delight a little pain to receive a blessing from our King What appears to be a failure or a loss with no way out is simply a hidden blessing , a gift from our King...... It's time to start climbing!!! lets grow strong..........


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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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Quit That Tapping

like the raven 
who taps taps upon 
your chamber door
do not fret my Virginia
for it's my shadow
moving across the floor
this is what I'm telling you my darlin
and nothing more

beneath lattice
I still call your name
come to me virginia
come hear the tap tap 
upon your chamber door
for only you my love 
I surrender and never more

wind howls in blanket snows
here I stand so all alone
broken hearted and misconstrued
my Virginia who lies under stars and moon
just a tap tap upon your chambers door
tis I and nothing more

tales of hidas truth
blackbird sings harps cords
just like the tap tap upon your chambers door
my sweet Virgina whom I adore
for there'll be love waiting and nothing more

as I lay right next to you in this tomb
I counted only seven who have even knew
the times of this raven who 
tapped tapped upon your chambers door
twas only I and will be never more


Tribute To Edgar Allen Poe
And His Young Bride Virginia
Also To His Poem The Raven


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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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I Want

Yah! Let me tell you,
Let me tell you about the last struggle in our country
2000 political violence.
Those days thousands of people lay dead                      
The streets were full of blood.

I want to tell you about how people were suffering
Some they spend seven days without anything to eat
Some where forced to walk hundred miles
People where struggling,
People where crying
I want to tell you about how people were disappearing.

Brothers and fathers were forced to join the ruling party
Young stars were forced to join the green bomber youth militia
Mothers and sisters were raped,
Brutality raped.
Some were raped in front of their husbands,
In front of their children.
I was scared very scared
My tears were running down to my chick
When I saw a young 14 year girl raped in front of me
She was raped by 4 strong men. 
I sweated! Shivering nothing to say
Only I was shaking my head my hands were holding my mouth,

Let me tell you about the blood shade.
I want to tell you about the white farmers 
White people were forced to leave their farms
They left their properties they were not aloud to carry 
Anything,
Some they were beaten
Their farms were burned in ashes
Crops were slashed by the so called war veterans.

I want to tell you about how people were murdered
Some you find their body parts missing.
I was breathing heavily, 
When my friend was hanged on a mango tree
Nqobani was innocent, he was a kindness man
But he died because he was an enemy to the ruling part.
He died whilst fighting for change
Her private parts were found missing.
Tears can dry but memories can't die
I will always remember you
And I will keep on fighting unless we set free.




I want to tell you about this government 
This government of ours has totally destroyed,
Our beloved country
It has totally destroyed the whole situation
From his excellence president to his exultant dictator
Let me tell you I want.

Only the government they know is to maintain its solders
And policeman by buying them new boots, new stockiest, new 
Uniforms,
New underpants and the new button sticks
Yet the economy is going down.
Things are hard to get
No ballpoint, no sugar, no fuel, no water, even a toilet tissue 
You can’t find it
Or cry beloved country or cry beloved country.

I want to tell you everything and I will tell you
From south, to north, east to west.
From kwaBulawayo to Harare via Gweru
All corners of the country 
Let me tell you and I will tell you



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THE CRAFT CAN CAPTURE IT

Oh well I got an angry email to begin my day
Because of my last post on the Jabidah thing yesterday
Galit sa akin but greeted me with Assalamu alaykum.
And kung personal Moro friends ko naman ito 
They know I don't criticize Moro leaders
I always leave that to them to criticize their leaders
According to my friends baka nasa gubyerno or something
Next time I'll write na lang about the sea and the palm trees and the beaches 

Pray and pray nalang para walang provocation
ako nga ang daming nag-message sa akin nagalit sa issue ng Sabah standoff
Ikaw pa kaya na wala namanng masama na sinabi dun
Alam mo ‘buti na lang you verbalized that kasi iniisip ko rin ‘yun
I know you have reasons and you know better kaya; I just read your posts
I don’t have to go against parties kasi both have rights
And the issue must be solved

Wala, kasi sa akin kundi independence lamang ang kailangan
May ganyan din kasing realities? 
Minsan you are being asked or expected to take sides
Yes, my side is peace – with peace is independence
Yes, I heard that sa dating Jabidah Massacre celebration
Somebody said that, “Walang kapayapaan kasi walang kalayaan”
And that is very universal, kapatid.

Moro or non-Moro and writing should always geared towards humanity
That’s why for me it “anti-humanity” if you will not listen 
Or suppress when somebody will talk about freedom.
That’s the problem with Filipinos, they don't listen.
Kasi the leaders may sarili ring interests.

How do you see being Filipino?
Ako, it's a cage, Filipino nationalism 
Agenda ng mga oligarchs and landowners 
Filipino nationalism is violence against Muslims and lumads
Kasi ‘pag ako ang tatanunginmo I will never say I am Filipino
Because Tausug it’s not a name but an identity...
I understand but kaunti na lang kayo

Ako sasabihin ko na I am a Filipino but I have reservations
When I was a teenager hindi ako tumatayo ‘pag Lupang Hinirang
ngayon tumatayo na kasi napapaaway ang mga kasama ko sa sinehan
Yes and identity should be critically assessed and examined.
Kaya if they say Filipino ang mga Tausug masakit sa aking loob
But not all, kapatid. try mo pumunta sa Manila
Yung mga Moro na malalapit sa mga institusyon ng Pilipinas
Bakit iba ang Moro at ibang ang Tausug
kaya sila naging Moro at masaya na tawaging Moro 

May identity na naiiba sa Filipino
Pinag-aaralan ko rin yan and ino-observe ‘yung pag-yield sa 'Filipino'
‘Will give Filipinos a disservice
Because it is tantamount to be an accomplice to a corrupt system
And this system is the one that oppresses Muslims
At alam natin ang Tausug di lamang taga-Sulu
Pati Bisayan, Tausug din

As much as possible I am trying to make my writings 'away' 
Away from Filipino nationalism
That's the right way for me and my writing
I will ask first, “How it is to be human?” 
At super last na ang, “How to be a Filipino” 
And the Bangsamoro struggle is the greatest critique to the violence
And failures of Filipino nationalism

Ang problema kasi kaya di successful ang Bangsamoro struggle
Dahil nagdadala sila ng pangalan na di naman originally sa kanila
How come ang pangalan ko ay Abdul sa rights
Gagamitn ko ang Juan para sa aking bayan?
Kaya war of ideas ito and alam mo naman sa akin, ‘pag ideas 
And perspectives walang kompromiso and peace talks 

I do not compromise my language, my craft and myself, my writing
Filipino is an imagined nation, as well as Bangsamoro
Bakit di natin magamit ang orignal nation natin 
Na based sa Sulu archipelago and Mindanao
Yes, actually diyan ako papunta - papunta

Bakit hindi i-Bangsamoro-ized ang buong Filipinas?
It doesn’t mean na i-convert ang Pilipinas 
But the spirit, the struggle it should mean something to Filipinos
It should kasi ang dami na nagbuwis ng buhay
Kaya ko pa na tanggapin kung Maharlika

‘Yan ang gusto kong ma-achieve: Filipinos should listen to Moros
Siyempre marami pang madidiscover along the way
Indeed. Ikaw ba ‘pag sasabahin ko na ‘Tausug’ ano ang maiisip mo?
Tausug is Moro and Moro for me is something that predates 'Filipino'
But now, I would like to know the concept of “Lupah Sug”
I want to know it, I think there are more and beyond Moro on it

Before ‘Moro’ was named to Mindanao and Sulu people
It was first name to Aceh people, Melaka, Brunei and then Manila
Sulu and Mindanao were the last places to have been called the name ‘Moro’
Sulu archipelago was united under the name Sulu archipelago 
The name of people is Tausug. 
Tausug is composed of different ethnics:
Arab, Banjar, Dampuan, Buranun etcetera.
The concept of Sulu as part of dar al islam 
Is already a nation and state 
Where the government is the people and itself headed by sultan or raja

Yes, and I would like to feel this from the ordinary Tausugs when I get there
I would like to experience this from ordinary Tausug and on from place itself.
In the hinterland of Jolo, their laws still on the ground not of Philippine law

I believe in narratives
I want to hear and feel this from the place and from the people.
And then capture it; I have these thoughts 
That Lupah Sug has something that the Moro concept does not have
And it’s a bit metaphysical but sige lang.

I know my craft can capture it.
I think there is a language that can capture it 
And specific craft that can carry its soul
Not fictionalize but put it in a form like a novel or a narrative
Which have their own logic and truths as crafts.






This poem is made after the conversation and sharing with Filipino writer Rogelio Braga who also serves as the editor of the poem. He is currently in Mindanao, travelling and writing; he will then proceed to Sulu Archipelago soon. 2:28PM, 19 March 2013, Facebook Chat across Sulu Sea!


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Follow the Yellow Brick Road

Follow the Yellow Brick Road As I was walking Along my chosen path Where each step marks A notch this world hath I caught a glimpse of A Yellow Brick Road Like the one from Oz Once long ago told Now how the glimpse Came my way I chose a path to take On a sunny day Back to work from break Strolling merrily along Head held high with joy Whistling a happy song I jumped over a little crack Just purposely out of my way Being sure to be aware Never matters which day As I came up to my office Tapping a rock with my heel Then the feeling hit me The vision seemed very real A comparison factor in our minds Creating obstacles out of fear Or do we step over them To prove we are there It’s our choice to place sunshine On the path we choose to go Thus creating a happy path To Follow the Yellow Brick Road Florence McMillian (Flo)


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Peace Tonight

I sleep in peace tonight.
Hope that day will come.
When I find you underneath the 
Sun.
Waiting for me and a life that never 
stops.
For Eternal love will always be 
there.
And you will know that I care no 
matter the troubles.
That even If death were to come, it 
be with us a couple.
I sleep in peace tonight.
Hoping my family loves, and so do 
my friends.
And that God may forgive for all my 
sins.
Because when I am gone, let there 
be not a tear shed.
But a laugh of remorse, and that you 
treed lightly.
For I will sleep in peace tonight.


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The Bad King

Ana Cecilia Callejas 

Rodrigo Perez Gavilan

The Bad King 

“Lexer” was a lion who was the King of the entire animal kingdom, during his reign all the animals lived in complete harmony, they were all happy and graceful, and Lexer takes care of them and protects them. One day “Lexer” and his wife had an adorable baby lion that was named “Dylan” as he grew up Lexer teached him a lot of things since he was going to be the heir of the animal kingdom. Dylan also made a lot of friends but his best friend was Jim. Dylan and Jim spend almost all the days together, as the time passed Jim started to hang out with the Rhinos, which were the bad ones of the kingdom. Jim turned into a bad lion and started to incite Dylan to make bad things and he became also a bad lion. One day lexer got very sick and a few days later he passed away so Dylan became the king. All the animals were very sad because they loved Lexer he has been so far the best ruler of the animal kingdom. Time passed and Dylan forgot all the good things his father taught him and started to become a bad lion and a bad king. Influenced by Jim and the Rhinos that were friends with Jim Dylan started to do bad things. He put animals to fight between each other just for their amusement and had some of the animals as slaves just to be his servants, he also ordered other animals to kill so he can eat and have feasts, and this caused a lot of panic in the entire animal kingdom. Dylan mother tried to make him reconsider and change, to do all the good things his father taught him for him to be a good king but Dylan just became worse. All this caused that the animals lost his confidence towards the king and started to live just with the ones of their own kind and also began to fight with all the other animals to survive. This caused that the world became a bad place and since that moment the harmony did not existed anymore and the animals had to take care on their own.
Moral of the fable: if you are a good person and you have good values don’t let anyone to influence you and change the way you are.


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THE HOLLYWOOD RANGER

Their lived a man once upon a time in Hollywood
Who in peace and war his glory stood
Reaching by far his story could
For he was known to share holy food 
From a holy book in Hollywood

Always alone he used to be
With his broad sword no enemy was left free
He could slash and shriek zubb zubb like a bee
And took a holy book and said, ‘Lord forgive me.’
And finally admitted this is how it’s suppose to be

He went to the coast to enjoy the calm see breeze
And watched immigrant ships telling him to freeze
 He killed people who had pads on their knees
And preached to those who has none of these
And could finally pray as usual in the breeze

He stood for all joy and stood for anger
For he had to use both his book and his panga
As they both worked on people to kill their hunger
He gave a wait to his finger
Which pointed at the book to kill the anger

For his missions he never was late
I don’t know how because there were no calendars to tell the date
Nor clock to tell the time, but sunrise and sunset
When he hunted his need until he would get
And his book and sword was used on time, never late

He was known to be a Hollywood ranger
Who could welcome any stranger
Whether for peace or war he was ready for any danger
On Christmas he used to sing away in a manger
And he was ready to preach and fight as a ranger

Stories were flying about adventures of him
But publishers were scared to publish his film
Nor light on him could beam
For they were afraid of his team:
The holy book, the sword, and him

Now you may wonder how I’m writing about this man
It’s neither because I have a gun
Nor because I’m able to run
But it’s because he passed away and he’s done
And every creature in Hollywood remembers this man.


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Heaven's Doorway

A light - beyond bright -
beckons me warmly
from a place beyond which I cannot yet see.
As I approach a stairway which glistens like gold,
all my former burdens and apprehensions melt away.
Body aches have vanished and I feel that I am floating toward the steps,
melting from a warmth,the intensity of which
can only be matched by the radiance of the not so distant light.
A tenderness I now can easily recognize 
emanates from that glorious light.

Nearing the stairway, I can hear sweet strains
of a music whose instruments I can't define.
I cannot see, and yet I strangely know, beyond any doubt,
that upon reaching the top of those golden stairs,
something splendid awaits me beyond the doorway.

Something forgotten is tugging at my brain,
an awareness of having been here before.
Am I simply returning to a place from whence I came
before my sojourn on the earth -
that place where loving spirits dwell in perfect peace?
On reaching the door, I do not even have to knock.
My mere desire to enter has been heard
and my unspoken questions have been answered, 
for the door slowly swings open.

I cross the threshold and enter not into a building,
but rather into another realm.
Vivid colors dance before my eyes in the guise
of flowered meadows, hills and rills, birds and butterflies.
This landscape of indescribable beauty seem to go on forever.
A deluge of memories comes flooding my mind.

Suddenly, a snow white dog comes bounding toward me.
It's my precious Ollyver, who died so many years ago, the first to greet me.
He leaps into my arms just as he used to do 
every night when I reached the doorway of my earthly home.
Flocking toward me are others. 
I become dizzy with happiness and the thrill of it all. . . 

And then appears my stepfather, no longer afflicted with dementia, 
along with my dear brother Dale, who left our earthly home
sadly when he was still in his prime and full of dreams!
Next come those beloved friends of my family, 
people whom I saw each Sunday at church and who later passed away,
people whose lives touched mine all those years ago of my childhood.
Others that arrive I recognize instantly as ancestors of mine,
 even though many of them  I'd never even met while on earth!
They come to embrace me, one after another in the beautiful meadow,
and the music I had been hearing swells to the joyous sound
of an angel's choir.

For Gail Doyle's Heaven's Doorway Poetry Contest


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Divinity

Finally..Mr.Whitman, I understand as my journey is symbolic to yours; but, through my poverty-strickened doors. Fighting your human instincts... while learning your internal glow within. Frightening, enlightening, inviting his omnipresence in and as your reward he transforms you into him. Breathing your FIRST breath again. Loving life from the core of the earth to the pull of the moon. Stuck in the middle yet understanding all of the connectivity; because I'm living in a state of Divinity.


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The Hateful Sight

So far down into my pit of anguish, I find myself.

Slowly, some of my senses are coming back to me. Teh aching pain inside my soul and heart doesn't make this easy, but I try to rise my head, to stand on my own. In front of me, I find a looking glass.

Glancing at its cracked and dirty surface, I do not recognize teh face displayed in there. "For how long have I been sinking till I became this?" I think to myself. "Whatever is this that I spy, ain't worth the effort, mine or of anyone else..."

Squishing my eyes shut, in an attempt to fight this feeling of time wasted, of remorse and melancholy, feeling like my time is waning faster than it should, of it being wasted, I fail hard to do so.

Like sand, it goes through my fingers as I try to get a hold of it but, to no avail, it falls and vanishes into the drain.

And, as like that, I find her, once more. Cold and sharp, waiting. The crimson tint beneath my shell isn't a so soothing sight to behold no longer, in hope to make it fade away, all these evil thoughts and frustrations accumulating on each passing day through over all these years...

"What have I become? What have I done with my life to this point." Looking back, now I realize, all this time I've been fooling myself. Now it is too late.

I don't have time to anything else if not find relief on the click and the combustion of the dark dust. Trepanation by my own making. THe only good deed from myself to this screwed up world of broken shadows.

You should, as well, take a deep and look gaze upon this mirror without denying what you see in there, for I am of your making and you are broken equally. If you doubt, go there now and look and think... 


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How my life was transformed

I’m going to tell a story now of a man who having served his time in a war torn country, but due to a very sensitive nature suffered from what they like to call ‘Post traumatic stress disorder’, he was like this for many, many years, with all the symptoms of anger, paranoid, fear and anxiety, and was impossible to live with. He had studied everything from self help gurus, to spiritual teachers to conventional counselling {that man was I} but nothing helped, I just got worse and worse, which ended up in me leaving home, and in the process throwing away every thing I had ever built up, that was half way decent. After a year I went back home, my tail between my legs, to try over. But no, I was still impossible to live with, and there was never any real peace with me around. I had tried every kind of meditation, self hypnosis, positive thinking, and nothing worked. The writing did help me quite a bit, but it was never enough.

Then one day I discovered on the net an American gentleman, named John Sherman. I went on his site, at no cost whatsoever And I heard what he said, when he told me one simple thing to do. He told me to go behind my thoughts and just look at me
The me that is there behind all the thoughts and emotions when everything is gone; The me one speaks about when he or she points to themselves and says ‘me‘. Now this seemed so simplistic to me, and I kind of scoffed at it, but I tried it anyway, because I was rather desperate to bring about some changes, and I had tried everything else. it was so easy for me, and I started to do it whenever it came to me to do so. This was four years ago now, and I have practiced what he said religiously.


Now, four years later I am a different being, the anger is gone, the misery is non existent, My fear of death is all but gone, and I feel like life is one big wonderful dance. If anyone has troubles of this kind and cannot lead a peaceful life… go to 
‘www.justonelook.org’ And let John and his wife Carla help you, there are no conditions no religion and definitely no payments to be made. Just felt I had to tell someone about the Sherman’s, because of what happened to me     Peter.


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I AM HERE TO LEND YOUR CRY

Salam, how are you there?
Wassalam, good, Alhamdulillah
How about the issue in Sabah
Nothing to worry
I am worried because you are my friend
I am okay; just want to know your opinion
No probs, what do you think of that opinion?
Does it hurt you personally?
Nope, it makes sense

I am not personally taking part, I have my own problem
Indeed but I am so sad, many don’t understand the situation
They are taking one side condemning Suluk in general
So as the other Suluk in Sulu archipelago 
Many also condemning Melayu in general
I always think about others
My cousin, a policeman is in the frontline

I am so sad, pray hard
Please cry with me
I am here for you to lend your cry
Can I pretend nothing happen?
We can’t pretend to be nothing to happen
Then rest and cry with me
To make people understand is not easy
Sometime we also take time to understand our situation
I am hurt to what happen, we are being fooled by colonisers
They ask us to inherit this misery

Hmmm I am so sorry to hear that
Hopefully you won’t hate the Suluk generally
So, as long as it does not contradict to my stand
What is your stand supposedly?
 At least I have one good friend from Jolo ancestry
I am a good friend because you are good

I know nothing about the war; I just wanted to know the peace
It’s really easy to smile and pretend that you are okay
Rather than telling people why you are sad
It’s not easy to imagine that war
I just want to keep it by my self
I wanted to keep this in my sleep
When I wake up tomorrow 
Peace is expected to blow
Let have this peace to reign right away









The poem is made through the conversation with Malay friends from Kuala Lumpur about the conflict happened in Lahad Datu. We shall never put the bangsa in general as what we are thinking is right: Suluk is bad and Melayu is arrogant. We need a better understanding to conclude that each bangsa like Suluk and Melayu have nothing to do with the situation. It is a matter of siding the truth and rights. I therefore personally accepted if everyone hates me because I am Suluk and that would make the world stay in peace and to save peace, I am willing to be called such: “Suluk is bad and Melayu is arrogant” but the “country and world is peaceful” is achieved. The war declared ended today by Malaysian authority. Let Us All Save Peace. Layag Sug. 11th March 2013, Sandakan, Sabah, Malaysia!


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KENYA MY PRIDE

We are kenyan superstars,
That is what we are,
Kenya our mother land and pride,
Shines so bright that it cannot fade,
Today we hear,`Kenyan athletes bring home,
Bronze,Silver and Gold,'
Tomorrow,``The Kenya Rugby 7's defeat New zealand again.''

The Maasai culture came up with the Akala sandals,
Which are made out of rubber,
The  luhya introduced  Bull fighting,
The Kalenjin made `mursik' or fermented milk,
And to name but a few communities,
With their diverse cultures.
I believe that kenyans were born great,
To grow up and achieve greatness. 

To become one of the most formidable
Intellects of our time,
Just like the late Mzee Jomo Kenyatta,Dedan Kimathi,
Tom Mboya,Kijana Wamalwa to name but a few,
To change people's reasoning   conclusively,
And make them see reality and not building castle's in the air.

Kenyans were born  great,
Because greatness was thrust upon them,
To change Africa's impoverished state,
And make it a better place,
For you and for me and the entire human race, 
To raise heroes and heroines,
To conquer social evils in the society.

If  we  were born great,
Let us believe in ourselves,
Be contented with whatever we do in our lives,
Let us love one another, live in unity and work
together as a nation,
Let the past be a stepping stone for us to succeed in future,
And leave the rest, to the Almighty God.


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Soul of a Son, Life of an Addict '

There in a small town in Mississippi, a very poor family of (7) seven are yes struggeling but are yes abound. Jimmy the youngest of them at now 17 tell his father that he wants to be a Preacher The desire to teach is a privilledge that he inherited from his Uncle, and nowat that prunitive age he goes to his uncle (home) town. The soul of a son is one thing, but the life of a addict is another. My Brother, my brother he sit's down one day and listen in on one of his uncle's lectures as this friend of Jimmy is being lestured too.  You don't need to be weak at the knee's in this stage of dealing with certain issue's and as he comes to the end of his lectures he himself (jimmy) is in need of some "tissue". Jimmy is a member of the debate team(at school) one of the student is this friend, who is dealing with crack-cocaine habit that he just began doing for about a month now.  So this-this-ss partic-ular day jimmy takes him to see the preacher (his uncle) after this young friend said to him, "help-me". {I believe you can be of some help}. "Don't be afraid to seek God as your first step".
So after the two of them have elaborated over the matter for and hour, Jimmy feel's a
need of concern, so they leave together.  My Brother-my brother. "Life of an Addict",
will carry you places you never thought you'll be and keep you in situation's and you
will never be free.  Free to enjoy (life) and freedom from the depentacy of drugs
and living on the streets!!....
 These phrases becomes a part of the mindset in one's attempt to go forward with the
"Power of Prayer", and the belife of knowing you're not a "Coward".  "Soul of a Son",
is to surrender your all onto the source of everything(Faith).  And "Life of an Addict",
is knowing that God places people in your life to possitivily restore your faith in your-
self.  So when life throws you a "Nippy", (storms) that is when you're not to give up,
because the enemy wants you to think that you are always running on empty!!.
"For he is everywhere (Jesus) even there in this small town of Mississippi".


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the mandala with the nipple at the centre

Grogged, split into holographic shards:
Hypnogog reveleations reflect
One dreary dreamer. Divinity
staggers to recall Itself
in matter.

Is God like peppermint? I think him

more like meade caressing 
a breeze – just beyond 
the fresh whore.

Bands of succulence
orbit a soaked mind.

The mandala, stony gravel out-stations
brilliantly placed in the Logic, 
oddly so.

In the centre the most divine Creation.

The nipple more proud than unassuming
more mirage-producing
than drought.

And all around the nipple children skip
chasing fairies in the smoky glow.

All around the nipple dance children, go.
More ancient than childbirth. The cheek

of Isis swirls itself into a Promise. Food
was later, grown men (and women) don’t know.

The milk erodes its own palace. The screen
remains; like the silence in a scream.

Art only, ever in the making. The sacredness
of a breast more than Nature produces.

Some on the outer, independent scriptute.
Some more honest, after some lost inner elixir.

I say: the world would not last long without a breast.

Copyright. 2009. JLM.


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Golden Windows

A young shepherd living near the hill,
taking his flocks everyday to drumlin.
He wonders deeply while sitting upon the rocks,
looking at afar house while feeding his flocks.

The shepherd's desire is fantasy of afar home,
that has golden windows behind hedge of anemone.
He wonders if the windows of the house are gold
how other appurtenance of the house are mould?

He starts his journey to there, finally after some time, 
going along the way across the hill while biting a loaf of naan.
When arrives, he finds the house in fully collapsed condition. 
There are no golden windows but a poor crumbled house. 

He looks to his own house down the drumlin
surprised by the heavenliness of his own dwelling
The sun was casting back on his house's stained windows 
just like the sparkling on the gold as the sun downs


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Come With Me

You question why I wish to live
In isolation among the wilds,
Forsaking all society gives
And its lure of ventures beguiled?
To answer this I can't decree
In words what lacks simplicity
Instead, why not come with me 
To taste my eccentricities.

Come with me to stand
Atop a snowy mountain's peak
To gaze at miles of virgin land
The beauty of which words can't speak.
Come, let it strip away your cares
And then perchance you just may dare
To feel the peace that's waiting there
Atop that snowy mountain fair.

Come with me and walk
Along a winding river's brink
To listen to the wood thrush talk
Or watch a doe come out to drink.
Come, watch the beaver's clever craft
Then pause to hear what few men have
Come stroll along that peaceful path
To listen to your spirit laugh.

Come with me and run
Through golden fields of flowing grain
Then pausing there to fill your lungs
Take time to smell the windblown plains.
Come, watch the merry butterfly
Float 'cross an amber colored sky
And hear the earth give out her sigh
As now the day says his goodbye.

Come with me and sleep
And lay beneath the star strewn skies
In timbered heights, so dark and deep
To find repose for weary eyes.
Come, think of all you've seen today
Of Mother Nature's grand display
And once we have knelt down to pray
Then let your dreams come out to play.

Then arise with the sun
And return to society
To work until the day is done
On another man's proprieties.
Think then of our day gone past
And of these questions you've asked
You'll know then why I'm an outcast
Who's chosen the more tranquil path.


                         Timothy I. Brumley


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BEYOND THE HORIZON

BEYOND THE HORIZON

Beyond the horizon, three oceans meet the sky,
It is the land of plenty; you cannot travel in a day,
It is wider than the man’s vision and has no end.
Beyond the horizon, there is peace of mind,
Crime, violence and death are no more,
The former things have passed away,
No more tears, mourning, cry or pain!

Beyond the horizon, in the middle of rivers Pishon, Tigris and Euphrates,
The earth and other planets revolve around the sun and their moons,
All forms of sicknesses have passed away,
The lame stand up, walk, run and dance,
The deaf hear the joyous sounds around them,
The blind enjoy the world of colour
In addition, see the faces of their loved ones for the very first time!

Beyond the horizon, I see water rising above the oceans,
We have become strong and healthy, all young and energetic,
No more eye glasses, no more crutches and walking canes,
No more medicine, no more dental clinics or hospitals,
The ravages of aging have been reversed.
Beyond the horizon, never again will emotional illnesses
And depression rob people of their happiness!

Beyond the horizon, even though we speak in different tongues
We have become one big family with no barriers to unity and brotherhood,
I see seven continents merging and fusing together,
Humans are at peace with animals,
Cats and dogs have forgiven each other,
Wolves and lambs, lions and buffaloes, jackals and goats feed together,
And all our domestic animals are totally safe!

Beyond the horizon, bright shining and filled with vigour,
Mankind have awaken to a new day of vibrant life and renewed energy,
For they will learn not war anymore, but the ever-lasting peace.
They have turned their destructive weapons into ploughshares,
And never again will the tranquillity of the world be disrupted by cruel people!
Mankind have been taught to treat each other with love, respect and dignity,
And they have shed their violent traits and have become peaceful forever!

Beyond the horizon, in the wonderful garden,
Even a little child has nothing to fear from wild animals
Behold, he dances with lions and bears,
As he rolls the mamba around his neck!
Look over there, the young woman talks to a puff adder and it listens!
No one’s home will have to be locked to keep thieves out,.
Peace have reigned in every heart and in every house,
What a peace our new world that is!

Look at us from a distance, beyond the horizon,
Somewhere where the rainbow ends, way up high,
There in the vineyard, where the rosy sun drips over Sun Valley,
God himself is with humankind,
Look, He is wiping off every tear from our faces!
We have come a long, long way and have worked hard to come to this paradise,
We will be a silly so and so if we should ever let this beautiful!


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The Rescue

(So sorry for the hearts I have broken
for the dreams that never came true...)

I wanted this madness to end
I have to stop this hurting spree:

1. I locked the door,
2. unlocked my gun,
3. cocked slowly, silently that no one will hear
4. and went naked (so they won't have to undress me anymore).

My uniform is neatly pressed lying in bed
with the shining badge and the laminated name plate ready.

5. Took the last breath,
6. closed my eyes,
7. then prepared for the fall (the devils inside me
rejoiced with blood and misery - as I put my finger
in the trigger).

Then a frail knock came (it was the loudest I ever heard)
the sound came less than three feet from the floor
outside the unpainted door panel
as though it was knocking in my heart.

A tiny voice called "Daddy?....Can I come inside?.."
in my mind : "Baby? Can I come inside?.."
So I let him in (and the sunlight came with him)
He asked why I am naked,
that it was cold I might get sick
He said he was hungry and cried because his playmates had left him.

I cried because I could not be completed
(We cried for a moment).
He wiped the falling debris lining in my face as he wiped his tears away,
he picked my clothes scattered in the floor
I hid my gun under my pillow in safety.

I wore what he gave me
I did what he asked of me (I went to the kitchen half-naked)
I could see he was sleepy so I went to lay him in the cradle,
he had his feed in his hands,
I have my pain reliever beside me---
as I am holding this little boy in my arms
(My angel came to rescue me and that was enough,
for the moment).

Then we both fell asleep.


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HALLELUJAH: PRAISE JAH

You made us out of your own image,
with love and life a gift you gave.
You gave us a paradise to live in.
An eternal living, a promise of forever.
You have saved a thousand rooms in heaven.
A place for one hundred forty four thousands,
from the twelve tribes of Israel.
Out of million in your angels,
One has envied with your sovereignty.
He attempted to steal your majesty,
Spread the chaos down the earth.
This angel given a power and mind,
Provoked Eve to eat the fruit of life.
Lead the mankind to a sinful reward,
Lost the paradise,even the eternal life.
For You have loved the world,
A son you sent as a redeemer.
Brought the nation a good message from heaven.
With his flesh and blood our sin has forgiven.
In a book of Revelation you have  revealed.
A new hope to behold,
A new scroll to open.
Demons will be delivered beneath the earth,
Justice and peace will soon prevail,
With the Son of God this world be lead.
Eternal life in paradise we will achieve.
The whole nation will stand and give Him praise,
Singing Hallelujah,
Praise Jah,the sovereign God of the universe!



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One Capsule of Time

Excited, and hearts beating with anticipation
five of us held hands...as if declaring, "We're in this together!"...

Rising quickly,..into the clouds,...so it seemed....
Enclosed in a silver capsule...like amateur astronauts, ...
we nervously looked at one another with the same wide eyed expressions.
"Such country bumpkins!"...."Do we look it?" I laughingly asked my husband....
"Hey, kids,  count the floors!...Can you believe it?"  
"Almost to the top!!"

A soft spoken gentleman, wearing a bushy, yet neatly trimmed, mustache,
smiled and said to us...."Your first time, I can see?"..

He wore a uniform, (host, or guide, I supposed)... with the warmest smile.
"If you like,....I can point out places of interest for your children?"...he offered, kindly.

Our three children nodded in delight.

When the steel doors opened, we stepped into a large room
Making our way through the milling crowd, we found a spot for observation.
Our mustached gentleman, chuckled when we gasped for air,
then saw for the first time, the incredible views...

As if looking down from heaven...

City lights flickered on, and we knew what it was like to look upon the stars...
Only, this time,  the constellations were below us...!

A magnificent city spread out before our eyes...
       Stunned speechless,  we were breathless...
      
Our new friend pointed out Ellis Island, the bridges, Statue of Liberty...
"Oh yes", ....he said,...."over there, ....you can see almost into New Jersey"
"And there,...that is Staten Island.   "Do you see the ferry?"
He charmed our young daughter, and impressed our sons with his knowledge..

Here...on top of the world... in a magnificent twin marvel....

Oh, dear God.....the innocence....who could know...? 
Oh, dear God....the significance of that moment....

  one brief capsule of time....
      in company of one kind gentleman, who wore a friendly mustache


   We will never forget that day................or him................. Oh, dear God....
                                   


_________________________________________________________
True story....and dedicated to a kind stranger....

For Contest Sponsored by Heather Ober


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Look at the facts not the Debate

Do you see anything to smile about?
Someone was on fire during the debate
He drank so much water he stuttered
That a sign the raft of hell is getting hotter
Now I am more confused than ever

Our life isn't a political flash game
Do you see anything to smile about?

Today for me; tomorrow for you,
It only takes a few, to see and review,
The outlook on life, sadly it’s fading.
Before we are too quick to judge;
Do you see anything to smile about?

Many work places are going under;
Many people are on the unemployment line,
Not knowing what to expect or digest
Do you see anything to smile about?

Occupy Wall Street protest continue stronger than ever
Trying to save what's left of our future.
Only time would tell according to the scriptures
Occupy our minds let’s think of our children's future
Look at the facts not the faces
Do you see anything to smile about?

One keep smiling the other kept drinking
Many head of the households worries about Health Care
 What is life for a soldier on the front line? 

Do you see anything to smile about?
Yes I know a man is still a man
Even if he wears an expensive jacket and ties
Only differents  we as citizens have place 
 Such men in a high position to spy
We have to back it up and vote or choke
Do you see anything to smile about?

Relationships are dying Men and women for themselves
Broken hearts all over the place,
 The love of our patriach seizes
Do you see anything to smile about?

Homeless shelters are closing
 With or without people demonstrating or voting,
Do you see anything to smile about?

This is not any fault of our citizens 
Its bad management, how much more can we take
 It’s hard to smile during the recession besides a rebate!
Looks at the facts, not the debate
Partake and foresee our future.
We need more smiling faces.
We need to breathe!
Hell’s getting hotter,
 Apocalypse in mainstream
Now do you see anything to smile about?






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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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Worry Not

I re-dedicate this poem to my sweet friend, Stephen Pettye, who is full of power and strength as he travels this lifetime in a number one status to reach the goals of his full inner growth.  This poem is to help clear his path along the way:

Take those piled up worries And let your troubles go They always go back and forth In our minds to and fro On a clear day With no clouds in the sky Cast you worries away Leaving no questions to ask why Giving more time to count blessings And be thankful for what you’ve got It feels so gloriously wonderful To truly and completely worry not Just clear your mind Away from all thought And enjoy the great feelings That fill the space you’ve caught There are messages to read When the clouds are out That’s when we’re given Something to think about On a clear cloud free day Leave all worries behind Well that’s what I do To clear my mind Yes, it feels good To be worry free And to leave it all With the one Almighty So when the sky is clear I will always worry not And thank our dear Lord For all the blessings I’ve got Florence McMillian (Flo)


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The Apple City New York

While listening to Schumann’s “Arabesque” 
and “Fantasiestüche” for the Mozart B flat Sonata,
I feel the warmth and love that’s powerful within;
a moment of instrospection, a source of intervention.

I live in a wonderful country, beautiful and well-known;
its historical significance and cultural diversity,
define those experiences with charm and closeness
that make something special how New York stands now.

The Statue of Liberty with its wide attraction to many,
a perfect landmark that speaks volumes about migrants;
as a gift from France that took a long voyage to arrive
between two countries there’s friendship and assurance.

The Ellis Island Immigration Museum is just close by,
where photos and experiences of the early immigrants
are showcased and memorialized as treasures of the land
so interesting that makes everyone know how they were.

In all five boroughs from Manhattan to the Bronx, Queens,
Brooklyn, and Staten Island, there’s a look of sheer delight;
great attractions and endless events scheduled for all seasons,
breathtaking sights with Broadway theatres and the brightest -
Times Square that has always been a rendezvous for tourism.

Oh, city of New York! filled with everything that one can claim
a known place in the world with so much to offer to all
like London in England, Madrid in Spain, or Milan in Italy;
all these cities have world-class shopping one can be interested in.

There are great places for dining, culture, tours, and transportation,
subways are convenient for everyone to explore Manhattan
with a number of museums, galleries, and centers for all promotions
like entertainment, history, arts, culture, music and literature.

Delighting audiences of all ages has got the Big Apple has,
it brings you up to date favorite and famous big-screen moments;
artistic and entertaining performances such as musical extravaganzas,
sci-fi fantasies, romances, sweeping epics, concerts and many others.

Trendy boutiques, funky cafes, velvet-roped nightspots and delis
are some places full of culture that one can probably explore;
their stories and history provide us with vistas and attention
Truly, places of glamour, excitement, entertainment, and much more.

Oh, city of New York it’s a great adventure to explore this, so far,
its fascinating neighborhoods with a variety of cultures involved,
a great experience, an enriching reality with multi-ethnic groups;
with legendary history that celebrates and shapes humanity.


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The Christmas Box

I want to tell you a story,
about one Christmas morning.
The snow was falling,
and the wind was roaring.
Holly and Christmas ferns decorated the door.
Gifts piled high around the tree on the floor.
Home baked goods from the kitchen filled the air.
The children opened their gifts with great care.
Time stood still for a moment when,
I reached for the box to open.
The box was white like snow.
Delicately tied in a big red bow.
Inside the box was a gift for me.
A tiny silver bell laid silently.
I picked it up and it begin to ring.
The music of Christmas, so charming.
My little girl said, "I hope you like your present too."
"Every time you ring the bell, a note of love from me to you."
A silent tear fell from my eye.
What a beautiful gift, and such a surprise.
I placed the bell on the mantle with care.
Even today it still sits there.
This happened many years ago.
The Christmas box with the big red bow.
A tiny silver bell plays a precious tune.
A note of Christmas joy from me to you.


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Your Angel

I am your angel, daddy's little girl.
I know I haven't been my best in cold, shallow world.
But I listen to you most of the time, your lessons and such; and when I don't listen, I suffer 
very much.
You don't give me signs when I'm going the right way.
So How can I make you proud of me?
I know I've done so wrong by not just following you; suffering pointlessly.
Either way I love you Father, with my everything.
I am your angel, will I ever earn my wings.

written in 2005


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Night Thoughts

I awoke this morning in a sheeted sweat,
from a dream I had last night.
A perfect world in a perfect way,
was traded as part of my life.

I sat there thinking for quite some time,
about the trade I'd made.
So would this time in my mind, 
do nothing more than fade; away.

In a hollow lump in the middle of my chest,
A warmth began to rise.
I cried out for mercy from the one above,
my brain wants me to compromise.

A life time I've wondered just why it is,
my brain and heart can't meet.
A penny for my thoughts, is about all it's worth,
but even a penny is now obsolete.

So back into my sweaty sheets I crawl,
to try and sleep once more.
As the clouded thoughts of my brain and heart,
bring about again this conflicted storm.

So can there really be any measure in me,
as the wheels grind brain cells.
I guess I'll find out in the end,
while arriving at heaven;    or hell?


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Inside My Heart

It was a good day, there’s a smile on my face.
I feel some peace and with it came grace.
I started to feel old and patience was thin,
From all the ashes came a place to begin.

I don’t even know what direction to go,
As daylight shines I hope it will show.
I just take one step and then another,
Hoping somehow, this life can recover.

I feel quite content I have to say,
None of the bad shall get in my way.
The sun set like so many times before,
I seem ambitious for what is in store.

I look at the sky and wish upon a star,
Hoping the distance is never too far.
I start to find my way though it is dark,
I try to find a place to make my mark.

The stars appear like diamonds in the sky,
Challenging my courage to learn how to fly.
I think deep inside my heart it still knows,
There seems no boundary as confidence grows.

The moon glows and it doesn’t seem dark,
I climb a hill on the far side of the park.
I lok down below and everything’s still,
It seems like life is held against it’s will.

I make my way home it’s been a long day,
It’s been a while since I’ve felt this way.
The world seems at peace and I am a part,
Tranquility grows from inside my heart.


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Peaceful Moments

To find peaceful moments I’ve always yearned for That flow inside of me And keep growing more I must always remember With me is where to begin As I prefer to turn away From a violent situation If I find myself caught In the midst of dismay I always use kindness To gracefully step away Hecticness floats around Through all walks of life If I keep peace with me It lessens painful strife The moments of peace Are filled with tranquility A calmness deep within That revives new energy We never really know When our life will end So we should sure enjoy This life we are given The life that is filled With God’s creation all around Where many peaceful moments Can always be found Peaceful moments are like A gentle blowing of the wind A beautiful setting sun Or a star twinkling on end Petting your favorite pet The flutter of leaves on a tree The crackling of a campfire Or the glistening of the sea Watching a child sleep Holding hands of a loved one Or being tightly embraced By that special someone There are far many more Too many to count, I’d say But moments pass quickly So don’t let them slip away Time must be taken To take the moments in For it is within your self You feel the peaceful feelings Florence McMillian (Flo)


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My Journal

My Journal ~ September 04 / September 06 ~ 2010


A Trip To Belize 

DAY 1

I travel the winding roads of euphony upon the hummingbird highway 
the ancient forests stand proud pulling every dream from with in my mind
a voyage of serendipity as each wondrous epiphany followed another
flowers entangle the mighty scape spilling delightful rainbows across the hill top 
Orchids, Poinsettias, and fragrant yellow Oleanders brought a dreamy sense of 
solace.......

3:16 P.M. Friday

DAY 2

as I wandered a magnificent  trek
I found myself in the Central Lowlands
a certain energy became present with in my being,
it consumed me in a spiritual inkling of a majestic past......
"El Cara col" the ancient Mayan site
What a divine wonder!!
a flourishing menagerie of a distant civilization so mysterious and pure
I Marveled at the simplistic yet intricate architecture   
A piece of my heart longed to entwine with the spirits of souls past...
If I ever in this life felt complete, I was at that very second......
sempiternal.....

12:30 P.M. Saturday

DAY 3

On the third day I traveled to the Platinum Coast line  
It was breath taking......
a crystal clear royal blue utopia  
The coastline dotted with gentle palms swaying so slight......
a Caribbean tropical oasis with white sands and a comforting warm breeze  
in the the distant one of the seven wonders of the world "The Great Barrier Reef"
O' how I longed to submerge myself in the purity of this vast nature bath......
a cleansing rebirth......
just to sit and brood in silence was all I needed.......

11:08 A.M. Sunday

A wonderful experience......a life changing moment in time......

Belize......
___________
  Contest


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Can't We All Just Play Nice



Against all odds, we humans have survived All the wars, natural disasters, and incredibly ourselves We are such a combative lot It's a wonder that we are able to co-exist at all Everybody wants to be King of the Mountain But what's the purpose Really, no one gets out of this life alive So stop and think about that for a moment... NO ONE gets out of this life alive! Shouldn't that be a sign, a reason To make the most of our lives while we're here Rather than running amok killing our fellow humans Destroying our manmade structures I've lived a lot of years Observed a boatload of childish behaviour Exhibited by a bunch so called intelligent people The world is just one big playground Can't we all just play nice © Jack Ellison 2014


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Iris of Poetry

Introduction: We don't really think deep enough about "What A Poetry Actually Is", the
obvious question which we all know but don't think how to really elaborate on. We mostly
see the story, depth and the purpose it delivers. Well, here's one a little bit different
this time...



Poetry is the reflection of our lives like in the mirror,
It is something we can relate to and share.
It's our memories written in jumbled words,
It's like a song, with a meaning it holds.

A mere idea of our mystical lives,
Expressed in a way from deep inside
A way which only the heart can see,
A place where the eyes get cold-feet

The earnest truth and the sweetest lies,
It's all the irony that makes poetry so alive.


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Second Chance Prayer


Lord God,
Please help me get a second chance to make up for my past wrongdoing
Send me the Holy Spirit to choose the right path
Provide me Your Seven Gifts of the Holy Spirit to help me better myself
Wisdom to have a deep understanding on what and how to change

Knowledge to know the reasons inside my sudden change
Counsel me to give advice in choosing to take on which direction to go to
Understanding to comprehend every situation 
Fortitude to have strength to be courageous on making a stand

Piety, to be faithful and offer goodness to others
Fear of the Lord to maintain Holy Fear to God
Thank You for Your help in transforming me
I respectfully ask this in the name of Father Christ Jesus for sending me the 7 Gifts of the Holy Spirit.

Amen.

Written 09162012

(Change “I”, “me” or “myself” when praying for someone or a group.) 


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All About Her

I dont know much about her
but I heard she wasnt that talkative
She didnt like being alive
She was numb to all the pain she had to go through

I heard she didnt like anything that was green
She ate roman noodles everynight for supper
She always wore flannels and bellbottoms
Sometimes i seen her wear dresses and fancy tops
But lately shes been wearing band shirts

She wears converse shoes and uses an army bag for school
I know that she dosent like to communicate through talking... only through her peoms
or sometimes even her songs.

I see her drawing and painting all the time
She draws famous people
She would like to be famous and not so unknown
When she tries to speak to anyone they always walk away and leave her alone

When she gets home she goes upstairs to play her bass guitar
She hates chocolate cake but loves chocolate
Her family left her behind because she cant forget her past

Sometimes when shes alone she contemplates the meaning behind her life
Her favorite color is gray because her life is black and white
Everything she says is false according to the world

She is not so innocent
I understand that she dreams about the perfect life
When she opens her eyes they are pitch black

She is someone that is fake
She acts nothing like she should
She is very grungy and unclean

She knows of no safety
and of no time
Her life is smashed into pieces by the giant sun

She will always be a ghost
She knows of no god
She crawls around in the world of death
She remains forgotten


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TROUBLE ECONOMY

The american economy is on life support has been for years. Sad it makes my heart fill with tears. The land we live the land we love. America is in trouble no doubt but i don't worry about it i let GOD take care of it that way i don't got to figure it out. I want to see my future but not as a blur.


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La Gala Grandeur

~La Gala Grandeur~


Revived from mine mortality,I adopt my rebirth
Through neonate eyes,the world now glows ethereal
As my resplendence arouses,death is relinquished dormant
Though newly formed,I step unteeteringly unafraid


Motlique auras,encompass my fellow scions
The firmament above,an wombous spectrum pletharic
Engrossed of adolescence,I become exhilarantly aware
My lineant precursors,swarm samely for my embracing


Free from fragility,I am no longer appraisal's prey
No less nor more than another,we abide incorruptable
Orchestras of saints and psalmists,exact an spectacled sonata
Devout and divinely,we dance dutifully for mercy's grace


This revel illimitable,is always available
Admittance thou art assured,whether or not of invitation
With none boundary of era,we know ye will attend
It is but a matter my friend,of just when...


...is then



~Azaza~ June 19th,2010


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The Golden Cup

there he sat, still an Restless
under the muddy light post
on the Slimy, Cruel hill

the Dust blew in a daze
and Mud spat in his face
the Rain began.

there he watched his home Bury away
his mother, father, sister, and son
fly deep into the waves

the Fog sat in, and sat thick
while the Wind roared in wheezing and pushing
the rain kept on

then came a rich, beautiful man
bearing a clean red cross on his chest
his smile sympathetic, but reason hollow

Depression crept in, slow and quiet
picked a spot and was made comfortable
the Rain crashed hard

but there, behind the clean blond hair
over the mud, and past the dirt
a smooth, white cloud beckoned.

his heart, blackened and crushed.
the Rain, deep and dark inside, had Stopped.


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Head Honcho



If I was the ruler of the world... The Head Honcho so to speak First thing I'd do Is to rule out all wars forever They never accomplish anything Except kill many innocent folks like you and me The end results never justifies the loss Of so many innocent souls When will we ever learn Or WILL we ever learn Man has been acting like animals since the beginning The Leader of the Pack, the Head Honcho My question is... WHY? Is there a gene embedded in our psyche That forces us to consider war Instead of a lifetime of peace and contentment Seems kinda silly to me There certainly is a dark side To us guys, a so called intelligent species If only we could all live in peace forever And never have to fight another war What a dreamer! © Jack Ellison 2014


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Feed Upon My Soul

*Note this is not sexual. succubus feed on emotion not all of them use sex as a method.this one uses touch to suck out emotions  *

As I lay on the soft moss your body beside mine. your cool hands on my breast your mouth hovering over my heart you feed upon the black and crimson mist that rises from my heart Full of hatred ,agony ,pain , sorrow and lust the lust for blood that consumes me this mist this congealed darkness that has conquered my heart upon which you feed so lustfully releasing me from its burden its dark chains; you feed on emotions taking my burden for your sustenance
my feelings, for you wil never leave me thank you for all you've done. you can feed upon my soul any time there will always be some thing for you at least the darkness insde me is has brought one good thing to me: you


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Approaching Hoof Beats of the Apocolypse

In the distant thunder I can hear the sound of riders drawing near
A gathering storm that will soon hit with great force
The first rider will ride in on a white horse a bow by his side
He comes in the name of peace and good will, but he practices to deceive with 
flattery and great skill
A red horse follows close on the first riders heels
He comes with a sword to take peace from the earth and cause men to kill
War shall ravage the land and the blood of men will flow as a river across the desert 
sands
A black horse closes the distance
He will cause a great famine to spread over the land
Many shall cry out in hunger and pain as food shortages cause great strain.
Many shall die in this dark hour of need for there shall be found no grain or seed 
Riding in at full gallop the fourth horsemen approaches
The name of this rider is Death and Hell follows close behind him
Men shall watch in defenseless terror, for unto the pale horse 
Power is given to kill by the sword, with hunger and the beasts of the field
The time has come to sound a warning through the land for the approaching hoof 
beats
of the apocalypse is nigh at hand


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''Will To Forget''

The frailness of a blank pallet.
Now conforms under hazed eyes that weep.
Does it bring truth to her treacherous past?
Oh' she is sure to find peace.
Life turns an unknown path.
Repulsive thoughts cease.
Sun breaks through.
Clouds lye no more on her tormented soul.
Reflections' sore heals in time.
Carry me to better place.
For now, I own the will to forget.


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Message to GOD

Forgive me father for i have sinned, bless me for i have repented.
Now i truly know the power of the lord upon this blessed land
I have seen this worlds true colours. For these people there is hope.

The gardens of earth watered with the blood of tyrants.
Leveled out by the sweat of heroes.

I hear your name whisperd through the wind.
like chinese whispers, it gets mislead and twisted.

I see your image perfectly crafted upon each of us.

You give us a spirit, you guide it. but like a feather in the wind it blows off course
We are brought into the world, being told lie after lie, subliminal messges are the truth.
We stumble across the truth by mistake but we ignore it, asif it were not there.

We live in a time of need, we need our gaurdian angel to continue to guide us.
To guide us through the dark world of decietfulness,
To keep us warm from the cold hatred thrown upon us,
To shelter us from the hailstorm of lies.

People are losing hope, they no longer believe,
but i have not given up.

We need you to return to help bring the world back to order,
I'll travel to the far ends of the world to discover the truth,
I'll sail the bluest of sea's to find peace,
I'll fly through the clearest of skys, fluffiest of clouds to find out what awaits me in heaven


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In My Solitude

In my solitude there's been retreat
From worldly events that brought defeat,
When emotions were too weak to bear
I could always find asylum there.

Through childhood, grade school, college too
And as a Man, I always knew
An inner peace down deep inside
Where I would go sometimes to hide.

Then came one day the hordes of Hell
And darkness all around me fell,
A battle ensued in that black night
For my very soul I began to fight!

From the belly of Hell I began to pray
Like Jonah did on his dark day,
And just like then God heard my prayer
He came, and conquered my enemies there.

He restored my faith, He made me new
He gave me peace I never knew,
He gave me armor and washed off the mud
With nothing, save his own son's blood!

He told me that He was the source
Of peace I'd found through my life's course,
He said that He would always be
In my solitude, waiting there for me.

In my solitude the Master waits
With wisdom there He demonstrates
Life's lessons that He gives through strife
That prepare us for everlasting life.

The last thing that He said to me
On that glorious day of victory,
He smiled, and then He called me "Son"
"Go tell the world what I have done!"


"Thank You Father!" Your obedient son, Timothy I. Brumley


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Playing on Mars

Ice brewed till the filler,
Microscopic colors twirl, 
Oh what a thriller. 
Condensed spinning inside, 
Outside… on the other wide sky,
Drinking my fill till I whither.

Its rolling and now coming by,
Say “here boy,
Get on for the ride.”
Taking place in the circle,
Down, no … high;
Climb back up to repeat,
And try. 

Filled to the brim in uppers, 
Downers, and mixed in color;
Living the American Dream,
Locked fear, not loathing;
Here’s the best part of the ride,
The best trip made from micro dot. 

Here comes the best part…
You come for the trip;
So get on and ride.

Animals trance you in a beautiful sound,
While the ceiling snakes faster in circular rounds. 
“Hey! That seems loud… what if the neighbors hear?
Let’s turn it down,” distorted in here. 
“Hey man! It’s still getting louder in sound,”
“But man the music’s turned all the way down.”

A telephone rings when no telephone exist,
People talking upstairs; though
We’re all that exist. 
The walls have become a fun house,
Don’t fear, though that one
Seems to grab and speak colors…
Why can I taste sound?

“You know man… roll up the come down,
Oh it’s so pretty, and I taste sound.”
“Man, I feel fugue amnesia;
Who am I? What am I? 
I forget what is around.”
Broken cigarette lost in the clouds. 
Distorted… I never wish to come down. 


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Dream Catcher

When the light of the sun begins to fall Echoes of thoughts begin to ball Drifting into a sleepless state Possibilities grow, at a relentless rate I open my mind, in a wonderland of no validity Emphasized by a walk, through a mirror of fluidity Children's laughter in a sadistic tone This dream is a nightmare, far from home The path I am walking........leads to a house Beyond the door, I wish for my friend, my lover and spouse As the door creaks open a figure is revealed I brace myself, my numbness is my shield A wrinkled hand reaches out from the black It grabs my wrist, leaving no time to fight back As I'm dragged into the darkness, the figure becomes clear The face of my victim, my deepest fear


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Faked

I stumble upon a river
the way it flows and feels
I take my shoes off and run threw it
laughing looking up towards the sun
I wake up and it was all just a dream
my sister runs up the stairs
she slams her door
i asked her what was wrong
she looked at me 
She says "mom told me you were adopted"
at first i laughed as i thought it was a joke
I run downstairs to see my mom and dad sitting on the couch
"mom?" i say
she replies "its true we adopted you!" 
she got up and walked into the kitchen
"after all this time i thought i was yours" i say
My father gets up and walks out the door
My mom lays her hand on her forhead
Just dont worry about it  everything will be okay
"No it wont i say"
i felt fake like i wasnt who i was suppose to be
i just sat on my bed thinking about the whole thing
my whole life and who i should have been
I packed my bags that light and i ran away
leaving the less important things behind
i set out on a journey to find my real parents
I had my sister get there info. from my dads office
I took a bus to indiana and looked up there address
As soon as i found it i knocked on the door
A man opened the door
he said "who are you?"
i say "apparently i am your son?!"
"you put me up for adoption?" i repeat

He yells "ANNA!?, Some kid is here for you!"
i repeat the story to her as she denied it
She looked bruised and beaten up
I wanted to help her but the man hut the door on my face

I had no where to go now
So i started on a journey back home
But i never made it there 
I found that old river i use to go too
i stayed there for a few weeks until
i remembered the way back.
I found myself that day
I realized that i was fake but now im not because i know that i am just me not any of them





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Death's Kiss

A cold dark night, whispers muttered, I fought for light, and then I uttered,
"Awake me from this nightmare, a black haunting I CANNOT BARE!"
opened my eyes jumped out of my bed, caught my breath, and nodded my head, only a dream,
then I said.

There need not be another that night so I stayed awake in fright,
in fright of that dream, that unbearable thought.

Then as I laid, eyes heavy and weary, so did I fade, into midnight dreary.
When suddenly I felt a presence of pain
a presence of evil, fear, and vain.

Onto the floor then came a drift, and with it fog and ice did sift.

"WHO GOES THERE!" I shouted, to which I doubted my feeble legs as I stood to the floor.
"It is I, Death."
Confused and confounded, I looked into the dark that surrounded, and quite astounded I saw
a monster appear
and to much of my dismay, its finger pointed my way.
"What do you want?" said I in fear "You." said monster, coming near.
"But so young am I" i did reply "Its an awful mistake, for you my life to take."

"Its no mistake, these I don't make." the creature did quake,
 
With wings of bone, scythe in one hand, he brought fear across the land
and still stood his finger, still at me it linger.
"NO!" I screamed and tried to flee, but move now I couldn't so quickly, for to my dismay
these legs did stay, a thousand pounds they did weigh.
"PLEASE, I BEG YOU, DO IMPLORE, I AM SO YOUNG AND LIFE I ADORE, YOU CANNOT TAKE ME, I NEED
NOT GO, PLEASE TELL ME WHY, THIS I MUST KNOW!"

So softly said death, in a single breath,
"No purpose is there, for death is not fair."
"You could be so young, but I do not care."
"And now you must bare what all will bare, Death's cold stare."
"But be not frightened, for with peace will you be enlightened. No more pain or sorrow,
this all I must borrow, until the morrow when all is no more."

His words like razors, cut through my heart
and with it peace, began to start.
For apart from the fear, the unsettled surprise
it dawned to me Death, had opened my eyes.
For life blistered my soul with a sore
that death would heal with its "No More"

"Ok" I said "Take life's pain from my head"
"Bring me peace, among the dead!"

And so quickly he came, and so quickly I went
and brought it no shame, and told it no hint
and with it he did, just as i was told
suddenly no pain, NO FEAR, NONE BEHOLD!
this all he did borrow until the morrow, when all is no more
and of it all i did hear, was just a faint hiss
then into the nothingness of abyss
did my peace come, with Death's Kiss.


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Swallow Your Pride

You were born with some sort of gift
Just remember this, my child,
Swallow the pride that takes away
Humbleness 

You are a gifted human being 
You have grown a connection with God
He welcomes you to His understanding, loving family
He reminds you to never let go of humbleness 

Tell your foes, if you have some, swallow your pride
Don't be afraid of their actions
Be in tune with God...He'll get you through this living
and He'll send immediate help on the way
because you've been gentle, patient, and courteous towards people's 
emotional trials and dangerous tests
You have been healed by the Most High

Swallow your pride, woman full of spiritual life...
You are now a bride of humbleness

You are a gifted human being 
You have grown a connection with God
He welcomes you to His understanding, loving family
He reminds you to never let go of humbleness 

Remain humble 
Love your enemies...tell them to
Swallow their pride 

They'll never understand 
What the reward is for
Humbleness 

Don't lack humbleness
Lack pride and practice
Patience before 
Humbleness 

Men of dishonor, remain humble 
Love your enemies...tell them to
Swallow their pride 

Swallow your pride, you devious fools of shame!

Pleasure-seeking women, swallow your pride...
You are now a bride of humbleness


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Creature

Observing. 
Frozen in time,
captivated by this enormous being,
the size of a small car.

Pondering, 
his every move.
The way he used his hands;
so child-like.
With all the consciousness of the world, 
and graceless coordination.

Aware.
of the visitors,
as they briefly called out for his attention.
Only for a moment,
then they were gone.

Untamed,
in an orderly sham. 
He sat there,
in his dark cave.
As if he was waiting for the light to find him.

Perched,
on a boulder, 
squatting, and primitive.
Drawing in the dirt with one hand. 
Swatting a fly with the other.

Surreal,
His nature,
as he rushed to consume his food.
The females hovered behind him,
watching intently, 
like me.
His movement mechanic.
His presence powerful.
He was the king of his domain.

Studying, 
his magnificence, I watched.
How smart was he?
Could he feel my presence? 
Engulfed in the very essence of all that was him, 
I watched. 

Wondering, 
how he felt, I watched.
Did he think he was still in the womb of Mother Nature?
Or, did he know the iron bars which embrace him now?

Then 
it happened;
our eyes met.
He noticed my presence.
His gaze intimidated me, 
But I did not look away.
He approached me.
I felt his eyes inspecting my soul.
A chill ran down my back,
I turned behind me,
only to find no other presence there.
When I turned back, 
we were face to face.
Separated by the sham,
And a two inch piece of glass.
Just me and him,
the two of us,
and the females hovering behind him.

Wise,
His old eyes spoke to me,
They said 
“I am like you. 
I love, I feel, I hurt.
I am, like you.”

Sympathetic,
I put my hand on the glass
and with all the 
consciousness of the world,
he did the same.
With tears in my eyes,
I smiled.

Then, he pooped in his other hand
and wiped it on the glass.
This was a sign of endearment.
I laughed out loud.
And I swear,
He smiled back.


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SEA TO SHINNING SEA

SEA TO SHINNING SEA,
 
...this is so intimate of time, as a first kiss of time is...so close of soul, so near, so dear of heart beat, so precious a rhyme that flows so intimately,
 
deep of time, down by the Crystal Seas...
 
...this is so intimate of dreams,
dreaming reality,
 
as the Crystal Sea so reveals of destinies galore,
sparkles,
destined as the night light of the moon-glows of starry eyes,
upon the waters,
 
...gazing
 
...seeing tranquility upon the waves...
watching to the depth of a dream,
and a sun-rise
 
being so true...
 
for underneath and within this a moon-lit poem of starry night eyes, down by the Crystal Seas, a vessel sets sail upon the deep...into a kiss of dawn...
 
Sea to shinning Sea.
 
mb(2011)
 


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Road to Redemption

Introduction: Tribute to brothers in the fray and families for them pray...


Life in these rough times, We barely even feel the daytime Every second counts greatly, As there’s no going back in time Sometimes we lose to win, try not to fail again, But mostly we end up back to where we all began Every single day, we wake up in one piece, Where brothers in the fray, they hardly get to cease Our tears drop all over the floor, They keep on till their blood stains from their core Every second till the end, We pray for them to knock on our doors Sadly at times, things go the other way for the best cause, All we can do really, is not breakdown and pause Prayer’s the only strand through the last breath, When they depart with a peaceful end Emptiness and happiness, constantly flowing along, The memories, they always live right within our souls When days seem cloudy and life gets lonely Debts grow high and smiles fade into sigh At that instant, that very moment, Just pray, pray to get healed, Heal from this insanity, pray to be free, Free from this misery It all comes down to the crying in the end, The stillness stares up towards the sky As we do bid farewell to dear friends But at some point through all the pain and sour grin, recovery does begin The ones we love and care, Though some are not so near Scattered through this bittersweet world, Waiting for us to share; This life is like the weather, It changes altogether It may get bad and may get sad, But know it’s not forever, Better days will come eventually, The morning sun will shine brightly Through our endeavors and our prayers, we shall recover From things we’ve lost so dearly So just hold on to the light and believe in salvation, And the rays of truth shall lead the road to redemption…


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Balance Within

Introduction: Even if you're tied to barely holding on, your control over will power shall pull you up towards the truth and success. But only if you believe up to all, that it's stronger than what you could be - that's when you balance the fall...




You may get old
Your memories may drown,
But your soul won't get cold
And beliefs won't breakdown.

Just don't you let go
As you never know,
Things you seek for all your years
They could be in your back yard.

Find the truth within the lies,
Fight your pride to end this cry,
Trust your soul; open the door
Balance yourself and roll the stones.

The one's you heart will always stay
So don't throw life out your doorway,
Life's too short and it's too real
Sometimes it's hard to see and feel

That's how you live a life,
The risk that breaks you down to bits
Saves and brings you back alive,
That's what we call the gift of life.

No matter how rough things might get
We get rewards for the risks we take,
No matter how hard or sad
Learn and value what you have.

Though, too much pride will leave you dried
Don't let 'hopeless', be your life's stride,
None of this will you take to grave,
Your deeds will lay, only your pave.

As you breathe in and do breathe out,
Make each one profound
And stand your ground,
As lies are just the fantasy,
The truth - is your ecstasy
And this will forever be plain to see... 


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Immortal

A wonderful life of victory shares a day of losses.  There is nothing too sad that you 
cant’ be proud, if you really believe life is about gratefulness, bright lights and 
breaking down barriers. When you open yourself up to the world , life responds as 
affable to any bitter moments. Happiness comes to people when they  realize that 
its not about being bad, but what you have done great your whole life. 

A smile received is an answer to gratitude. Those who share important moments 
and memories with sincerity, are those who have the most to gain. A person who 
suffers can carry on for life the remorse of never looking back to  the beauty 
encircled from within.  When someone offers you a hand, extend your emotions to 
respond well to their gesture of kindness. Some people die and never have time to 
say thank you, I love you, you made my day. This is a regret.

A humiliating failure comes with  the strength to carry on. When you feel your 
lowest  in your life, that’s when you have the inner power to change things for 
better, and change your destiny. Those who battle against torn, have no regret or 
feel sorry for what they have done. There is no shame in admitting to your self that 
you were weak. The shame comes when you fail to accept your own mistakes and 
blame it on something or someone else. 

To be immortal is to be able to see others as unique and different from you. No one 
is better because of their words or their communication skills. What make us stand 
is the ability to proclaim ourselves as still learning, even when others think we are 
the best inspiration they could ever have.  We are simply dust against our gigantic 
universe. Those who can’t accept life for its grandiose never feel the scent of true 
love. The difference of  each personality, is what make humans prone to discover a 
new reality every day. 

An abysmal day of losses  may never hit a victorious life. People are too immersed in 
finding explanations to every fall, every mistake or weakness that they share. Those 
who seek an explanation to why they lose a moment, may never see the results of 
living in glory. Don’t let a single episode take you down. Look at it as if it brought 
you tears of joy for the upcoming moments that you’ll never forget. Live life, love life, 
greet life for its moments of sadness or gladness. The experience to live life in full is 
what will bring you peace at the end. Nothing matters when you are gone, and 
always remember that people may or may not care.


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Hurt and You Could Have it All

upstairs in my room
i put my ear to the floor
only to hear my parents screaming
the argument is about me
my mom yells "look at what your son has become!"
Heartless, unintelligent, fake...
my father replies back
"hes your son, hes your own pile of dirt!"
whenever my family is out together
we act happy like these fights never happen
but every night they do and i cant tell anyone
i have to act like someone else in order not to get introuble
What have i become?...hurt..dishonest..will this feeling dissapear?
I will drag you down and i will make you hurt..
I lift my head from the floor
still hearing the angry voices of my parents
i found an old needle, and i dug it into my skin
the next morning i go downstairs
with a cut off shirt on, and baseball shorts
My father grabs my arm
"what is this boy?"
i yank my hand away from him and i sit down on a chair
"its nothing sir"
my father repeats "are you cutting yourself?, why?"
i grab my bookbag and i disapear out the door
My father runs outside pulling me to the ground
"are you cutting yourself boy?!" he screams
i say "no sir i just scrapped my arm on my dresser"
My father grabs my face
"you better not cut yourself again" he replies
He hits my face, as i lay on the ground.
I didnt wake up until i felt something wet drip on my face
it was raining and dark outside
i run into the house and into the bathroom
looking into the mirror i see the bruise that was left on my face
My father wasnt home and my mother went to bed
"everything goes away in the end right, if i let him have it all, my moms pile of dirt?"
I sit upon my liars chair full of broken memories i cannot repair 
I become someone else, but the old me is still right there
if i could start again a million miles away i would keep myself
i will find my way



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WHEN SPRING DIDN'T HIDE ITS FLOWERS!

Nothing is more delightful
and simply remembered by a sweet word...
than a walk through a green forest,
to find a remote spot on a low hill
and put those daily worries to rest;
the anxious eyes long for that vision
of a last, unforgotten season: 
the gentlest rain which brings
a familiar fragrance from other lands...
when spring hides its flowers!

Whenever the lonely poet dreams,
his unerring hand is quicker that  the flowing streams:
the distant vison of his flourishing thoughts
is carried to unseen places; 
and all he wishes is to feel  a sublime peace...
when spring hides its flowers!

The wishful child ,led by his mom ,searches 
 the leaf-covered paths with a sorrowful glance,
even the robins and blue-birds can't confort him,
 or give him some kind of hope for his unleashed whim;
and will he relish the joyful promise of each year,
as a gentle hand caresses his blonde hair...
when springs hides its flowers from his zealous eyes,
and one of those adolescent dreams unexpectedly dies?

I, once, was like him:  curious,cheerful and so restless:
seeking surprises in unexpected places...
finding myself in front of simple wonders
that couldn't  be perceived by the adult mind,
as if they were another mystery, not the creation of God...
when spring didn't hide its flowers!


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Kindness

Kindness, underrated often, 
a gesture of a stranger unknown.
Large acts of kindness can impress
but simple kindness is required 
by all.
 
Kindness should never be hidden
or overlooked by studying, working,
or worrying. Kindness is primary.

Kindness requires study and value
beyond occupation or money. 
The expectation is that all are 
simply kind. 


Hung it on my apartment mailbox


Hung it on my apartment mailbox


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In Christ's Stead

My father and I some time ago 
Visited the inner city
To give food to the needy.
To many that day we gave
The sustenance to maintain 
And save
Their souls.
We met a man quite bewildered 
Why he was chosen.
My father gave him a small red Bible
Then replied, 
“In Christ’s stead I give thee bread.”
Then we left.
Many years later one autumn day
My father passed away.
At his funeral visitation
Many people came with respects to pay.
Then an elderly man approached me,
He shook my hand
Leaving in it a small wooden cross
Stained red.
With a gentle voice he said,
“In Christ’s stead I give thee bread.”
Before I could thank him
He left. 

Johann Myles
"Spiritual"
 


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The Melody of Hope

There I lay upon the curb, my heart still beating An Icy breeze cutting through, my souls was fleeting Looking up into the skies, I saw a flash of hope The clouds divided into blue, and dangled down a helping rope Rising up I start again, I'm fighting stronger The music plays inside my head, this I remember I use the melody to build my strength, I'm shining brighter I lace deceit with the flammable truth, I drop the lighter The phoenix rises from the flames, I see it's eyes Exploded candles ignite the way, I hear it's cries The path I walk leads to my home, a second chance At the end one final trial, it's the devils dance There it lay upon the curb, It's heart still beating Reaching out I take my sword, It's life depleting One final strike and a broken heart, death becomes her The sun comes out and begins to beam, hope forever


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Walking to Redemption

Stuck in a place with negativity bound within it's Walls. I need to get out of here, before the phone rings with insanity's calls. I burst out of the door into the streets owned by the night. Shadows staring back dodging the lamps light. I begin to walk down the urban corridor of uncertainty. The workers of soul catchers carry out their shady activity. I find myself in the empire of danger invoking pure photo-phobia It's a small price to pay for escaping the mecca of claustrophobia. As I reach the climax of the spiraling vortex tunnel. I walk on tenterhooks as my problems funnel. Facing me at the end of this path, is a door laced with remorse around it's edges. The entrance to unknown stands out with a line of devoted pledges. Those waiting and queuing are the damned and the lost. As I drift towards them, I wonder how much my sin will cost. For I felt the weight of the pressure and stress, forcing me into the light of shame? For I was the puppet master, who poured onto me the petrol and drew the flame. My moment of selfishness was a cardinal sin to myself and others. lacking consideration, deprived of thought for my sisters and brothers. That self indulgent cowardliness, has lead me to this final act. A door beaten with the hands of the damned, regardless it's still intact. As the number descends down to it's final member. I stand there understanding my sin, bound to surrender. Reaching out I grasp the golden handle, and turn it to the right. As I push forward on the door and out bursts a green neon light. My chance of escape has come to a halt, it's time for me to face the jury's end. I stand by my plea of weakness and insanity, as into the court I descend. A skeleton of the peril court rises with a verdict and answer. The jury has decided I was overtaken by a vicious cancer. The disease wasn't voluntary but they agree my cure wasn't correct. My punishment is to fade into the man that never was, with immediate effect.


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The Last March of the Piss Ants

Walking through the guarded gate and onto my children’s school grounds, the impact of the 
80mm and 120mm mortars crashing to earth caused me to pause. When you couple this with 
the repetitive thrumming of the 50 caliber machine gun and the acoustics on the hill top, you 
feel as if you’re in a combat zone. The deep reverberating pulses that the blast of the 
weaponry left in my chest, the slight ringing in my ears, the un-worldly feeling that 
something was going to land near me, gave me that very realistic feeling. 

Yet the children ran to and fro, laughing, playing; seeming oblivious to the horror that those 
sounds bring to our enemies. I am not sure if they even hear them, even think of them; are 
even aware of the violence of the world around them. To them and the other family 
members of this military community, they hear the sound of freedom. They hear the impact 
of dominance in a world where, (to them) they believe our nation cannot, will not experience 
defeat. Each and every impact is knowledge that their loved ones, (their Soldiers) the 
fathers, mothers, sisters and brothers will live in absolution of the sin that they have or will in 
the future commit in their country’s name. 

Thus leaving the arguable question out on the table, is it a sin? Will they go to hell? It is the 
disobedience of one of the commandments! Yet without hesitation we will pull the trigger and 
thank god that we live to see our loved ones again.

To that man or woman who walks onto their children’s school ground, unguarded. To the 
children who do not run to and fro, frolicking, laughing, and playing; to all who hear the 
impact of a mortar or the repetitive thrumming of the 50 cal. Where the acoustics are 
resounding off the cement buildings of your home and the laughter turns to horror, the 
screams turn to nightmare; where going to school is a threat to life. 

I am sorry, so sorry that the world sees even one human, one child, lover, mother, father, 
sister, or brother; I am sorry they see us as so insignificant as to place you/us in harm’s 
way. I apologize that they/we lift foot to step upon the masses. 

Be it a terrorist, a misguided bomb, or the rage of a stressed out soldier who takes innocent 
life because they believe it is right. We are all significant, we are relevant and to all… Should 
peace ever come at last…?

I pray it lasts until our very last march…


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dreams under dust 2of2

{continued 2of2}...

the third girl took her
bullet reluctantly but
Mr. Mohammed Merah believes
in an eye for an eye

i wonder if Mr. Muhammad Wazir
would have preferred to take
his farming plowshare,
beat it into a sword
and bring writhing attrition
to still more children.

i think...i prefer to think,
that Mr. Muhammad Wazir, 35,
of Panjwai, Afganistan,
would tell Mr. Mohammed Merah, 24,
of Toulouse, France
that children are innocent

not just in God's eyes, 
but in truth, in his too,
that killing only begets more killing
Alas, it is too late for Merah's merit,
and the sky still shines blue

© Goode Guy 2012-03-21

http://www.npr.org/2012/03/20/148974952/afghan-farmer-lost-11-relatives-in-shooting-rampage
http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2012/03/20/148976984/all-my-dreams-are-buried-under-a-pile-of-dust-now-says-grieving-afghan?ft=1&f=1001
http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2012/03/21/149080247/sifting-through-what-we-know-about-the-french-slaying-suspect
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB10001424052702304636404577294632810920116.html?mod=googlenews_wsj


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Fanciful Meanderings

Memories of illogical unreality saunter past my mind, 

Planning expectations of a future with no feelings, 

Deja vu days multiply with an intensity so unkind, 

Happiness is eroded by endless waves of lapping sadness, 

I fall weightlessly to the bottom of life's end, 

Regrets dashed upon ragged rock thoughts that scream to confess, 

My childhood laughter flows tears of wishful pretend, 

As I wait helplessly at the back door of destiny, 

Sharing Earth with billions I will never meet, 

A poet joining lonely words into meanings of complexity, 

I wander through imagination hoping to land on my feet.

Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved

"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."

© 2014 Robert William Gruhn


 


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Pebbles

For hours
her whole world was 
hunting for rocks at the
banks of the shallow
narrow river that runs 
through the canyon behind
the house.

On her knees,
wrist deep in the
icy current, she
sifts through piles of 
polished stones, 
searching for the 
perfect little pebble.

She slips the pebble 
safely in that pointed place
in the pocket of her jeans.

Down the path, 
she's conscious of the
precious cargo, 
digging her hand down
now and then.

At home,
she reaches in
with her fingers, to
pluck the pebble
from her pocket
and she places it
on a shelf
with the others.

That evening,
stretched under the covers,
tucked and tight, and drifting,
she dreams of 
skipping stones.


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THE WORLD I SEE

ALL THE PLACES- ALL THE FACES
EACH ITS OWN UNIQUE BEAUTY
CREATED FROM ABOVE
DIFFERENCES UNABLE TO UNITE
WHY IS IT THAT ONLY NEGATIVITY HAS TAKEN FLIGHT?
 
ALL THE DIFFERENT PLACES
ALL THE DIFFERENT FACES
GAMES BEING PLAYED WITH HUMAN LIVES USED AS BARGAINING CHIPS 
 
THE OUTCOME DOESN’T REALLY MATTER
WITH EVERY TRIUMPH AND WITH EVERY DEFEAT
OUR HUMANITY SEEMS TO FADE FURTHER AND FURTHER AWAY
 
 ALL THESE DIFFERENT FACES 
AND ALL THESE DIFFERENT PLACES
SOULS ARE FOR SALE AND INNOCENCE IS A VIRTUE LOST
AND THERE IS NO RESPONSIBILITY TO BE HAD
 
EACH UNIQUE BEAUTY 
CREATED FROM ABOVE
DIFFERENCES UNABLE TO UNITE
I ASK MYSELF WHY IS IT THAT ONLY NEGATIVITY HAS TAKEN FLIGHT
 
SO MUCH HATRED AND SORROW TO BE SEEN IN THEIR EYES
NO TIME TO RUN AND NO PLACE TO HIDE
ESCAPE IS NO LONGER AN OPTION
 
THE TIME HAS COME FOR THE GREED AND CORRUPTION TO END
CHANGE IS THE ONLY HOPE
 
IT IS NOW TIME FOR ALL THESE DIFFERENT PLACES AND DIFFERENT FACES TO BLIND THEMSELVES FROM
THE SUPERFICIAL
THE DIFFERENCES THAT DIVIDED US IN THE PAST SHOULD BE FORGOTTEN FOR NOW WE MUST STAND TALL
AS ONE 


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IF CHRISTMAS DIDN'T EXIST

Imagine how sad December would seem
if Christmas didn't exist; only the chill
and wind would be felt through the frozen bones,
nobody would live in these northern, frigid zones. 


What was the true purpose of Jesus's birth?
Some even would say that it never occurred,
and why would the Magi travel long days
and nights to pay homage to the humblest of Kings?


It was prophesied by Isaiah in the Old testament and the Wise Men believed him,
following with awe the biggest and brightest star that they had ever seen;
and didn't it seem strange that God would choose those simple shepherds
to be the first to hear that message sung by a thousands of angels?


Wouldn't you be happy when a child cries out and enters life?
Wouldn't you celebrate that event with overwhelming joy and grace?
The same way Jesus entered this world to suffer and die,
and if Christmas didn't exist, who would remember who He was?


Wouldn't that envious angel, whom God expelled from Heaven with haste,
laugh loudly, knowing that we don't worship Him in spirit and faith? 
Fallen Angels are the eternal enemies of this Child, who atoned our sins
by paying with His precious blood...to vindicate the Devil's astute lies!


If Christmas didn't exist, some unbelievers would shout and rejoice,
happy to erase Christ's redemptive message from the earth's surface...
contradicting the Scriptures themselves and the Divinity behind it!
Didn't Herod the Great hate Jesus, fearing He would have become the new King?


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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No Matter What Happens

As I travel through this torn valley
I look around then I drop to my knees
Graping the blade that guides my me
I will always fight knowing that I can be happy
Cutting through the sorrow and torment
Until this moment I have wasted the time spent
Focusing on my future
Thinking of my past
As long as there is something worth fighting for
My bad memories leave me fast
I will never give up nor will I back away
Not at night, not at day
I will always have a purpose
No matter what happens...


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Lyle on lake Obenjinn - MIDTEXT

The village head Pymy Gruzz was hundred years old
He had no daring self neither a piece of gold
Only a daughter had he she was a foster child
She was fifteen years old Kiki– sweet, gentle and mild
She gave him comfort with a docile, obedient smile
“No worry, father”, we are all together in our Lyle.
Night was perilous, hazy, and yellow as a ghost
A chill crossed the craven moon and a platter of duck roast
Kiki awoke and stepped out, in the dark the dragon queen snored
She crossed the lake Obenjinn and mounted the hill of sword
She felt the pricks of crusty prickles but she was climbing on
She must save the village Lyle where she was born
The dawn showed her chubby face happy on the child
Kiki made her journey’s end the day was sweet and mild
She found a man with sunny face god showed her in a dream 
She went to him with folded hands and made a pleading to him.
Sire, I am Kiki from village Lyle bleeding in my heart
My village folks have turned to rocks in fear of Kunnegert
She is a dragon fire breather, keeper of skull on pyre
She must be killed by a happy man I want your sword on hire.
My blood my sweat and all I have will go to you my sire
I cannot delay; my folks are locked and human skull on pyre.
The sunny man stood up straight with a radiant face
“Little kid my Kiki sweet you will not fall from grace.
I will go with you my little moon and kill the dragon sure
I say you clean in voice plain what a happy man can endure
A happy man is happy because he lives with his lord
A happy man is happy because he keeps all love on hoard
He gives it free to every creature lord had made on earth
Lord made him his best seraphim to take a human birth
He is born for others and dies for all and in compassion he is tall 
A dragon’s vice in valley of Lyle he must have to forestall
So Said he and took her hand   and sword shone in golden orb
They climbed down the narrow gorge in finest pace the earth can absorb
Kiki, the daring daughter of the village stepped along the happy man 
The golden sword the golden orb  reached the final lane
The misty valley still in spell
 the misty opiate dulled the souls and spurred the hell
The poet stopped his pen, slept a little, the stories told he had to retell*.


*This is the second part

(c) RAJAT KANTI CHAKRABARTY
14 September, 2014


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I Send My Heart to Japan


Once again the Supreme Player has dealt the unfortunate card
From the famine in my lands
To the quakes in Haiti, and the other parts
Then the floods in Australia
Now the quake in Japan

I wonder what to make of these times
In the meantime, I’m just gonna be glad to be alive
And send my heart to those who survived
Sorry for the greatest loss of your time
My kind and I will each lend a hand in kind

Continue to see yourself as worthy in the eyes of your creator
For such are the shortcomings of nature 
Even we human beings who’re meant to be better, 
...always falter
Even the machines we make with our acute intelligence, 
...always have their failures

It’s not time to point fingers of blame
It’s time to offer tonnes of help
Even he who has help worth only a feather’s weight
Will find his place in the plaque of gratitude
...For helping restore the better days

The past is what was
The present is the gift we’ve been waiting for
We must now make profit of the achievements we harnessed in yester days
For today is for the purpose of manufacturing a better day

It is so hard to move forward while fixated with the scenery passed
So please to all of us in misfortunes of a kind
Let’s carry on ahead and take from the past 
....only the wealth of better lessons and faith
For as sure as one step ahead of the next will make us progress
Tomorrow is sure to erase all the sorrows and regrets
...and all the pains of yester days

Be keen, on your face a better smile to paint
Be keen, in your heart a better feeling to pump
Be keen, in your mind a better lesson to plant
Be keen, in your present a better experience to deserve
Be keen, in your future a better result to forecast


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Isms

                                                  ISMS
Fear uncertainty and doubt always
Feign the greatest of clout
At times overwhelming and gregarious in stride
Seemingly vanquishes any semblance of pride

But from the ashes like a Phoenix we rise
Owning our faults so we can let them die
Standing tall looking at each other 
Yea you are my sister and my brother

The dark force will always genuflect
At the alter of true sincere respect
Cast off the isms that strike a long shadow
Orient your sun so darkness is rendered fallow

And from the ashes like a Phoenix we fly
To the weaker souls not turning a blind eye
The kings ransom, the treasure trove
All to be had when hate is outgrown


You’re isms do nothing to others but fractionate
When the moral approach is to homogenate
To languish in denial and choose to forestall
Is to precipitate Americas last curtain call

And from the ashes like a Phoenix we rise
Righteously bent, all-embracing the sunrise
Deliverance is there for all to see
Embracing the truth is the way to be free 
  


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I Am Going Home

I’m looking for my home That’s where I wanna be It’s not a place that I own Nor that I can even see Home is where I’ve never been But I know that it’s there Something tells me from within It’s not a place around here In any house that I may live It’s never really home for me Just a storage room and a bed And a place for my company I’m getting closer to my home I can feel it in every day I guess I should’ve known This life vacation wouldn’t stay When I finally get home My days will be filled with time From the past my thoughts have grown Deep within my mind At home there will be peace And never will I need For the wanting will soon cease Without a thought of greed Yes, I’m going home I know the time is here Should I have to go alone I will certainly find myself there! Florence McMillian (Flo)


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REMEMBERING REAGAN'S WORDS

The crumbling down of the Berlin Wall finally 
ended the Cold War as a defiant Reagan challenged
Gorbachev as his famous words were spoken mightily, 
"Mr. Gorbachev, tear it down!"...And he shouted them with rage, 
while the heavy sledgehammer cracked it from the other side;
and a divided, lonely city still felt its utter demise.


On November 9th, nineteen-eighty nine, Berliners of both sides
tore down the humiliating wall which had separated them,
and with sledgehammers and bare hands they frantically
stripped it of every brick that prevented them, for a long time,
from sharing what the neighboring countries enjoyed;
and what was most desired by them was national unity.


Today is another day of remembrance and profound reflection:
when the two Superpowers agreed to end the plague of a city
that couldn't breath and prosper as the other European cities;
and remembering Reagan's words thundering behind that tall wall,
convinced a socialist regime to comply and bring back the harmony...
everywhere there were delirious shouts and many shed joyful tears.


Humanity, don't put the blame on an entire Nation for the horrible things
done to another race:  their Dictator was coarse, evil and vainglorious
as many were, have been and still are throughout World History;
and to seize power, it takes a tyrant who loves bloodshed and condescends dignity!
Wars are won by intuitive generals maneuvering their troops and warships...
before there was the sword, later the cannon and airplane, now technology is supreme.


If folks are denied freedom in all its various forms, tear your wall down
with all the required tools, halting the evil-doers despicable deeds,
and still be able to defend your vision of liberty, so defend it with alacrity and write
an ode or a ballad with an allegro tempo and remember Reagan's words
by unfurling your flag to cheerfully welcome your kindred who were exiled;
use the same words he spoke to unlock the closed minds so intramural.


Where there was bitterness and sadness, now there's irrepressible joy
and the streets and boulevards are open to all who were given a boundary,
and as it was anticipated the Berlin Wall had to be taken down to establish democracy;
celebrate Berliners and enjoy the fruit of your labors, your spirit will not down,
reminiscing the separation and grief that was caused by a socialist tyranny...
remember Reagan's words when you recall your divided city at the beginning of each dawn.  


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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take me from this misery

* this poem has been inspired by Breaking Benjamin's Dear Agony....*
* and was written in memory of my grandmother Jeanne Gula *

My name is Jeanne Gula, today i found out that i have cancer.
Its in a tumor, that's very painful, its very rare, its 3 cancers into 1
they already took it out once... and it came back.
The doctor said it was to late to take it out again.
Its not the perfect end to my life, but its all i can have..
I don't really know how much more time i have.
I used to be able to walk by myself, with out help.
I can't believe this happened to me... of all people.
It's be coming torture, they called in hospices.
This cant be good...
I'm in my own home, slowly dieing...
I really don't want to leave, I will leave so many loved ones behind..
So I think i will stay a little longer...
Its January, i now can't do anything by myself, i have to rely on family to help with
everything, my organs are starting to slowly shut down, its very painful to go through.
but my daughters birthday is coming soon... I'm not going to leave now... i don't want her
to be sad, on such a happy day.
I can't hold on much longer.
I'm now out of this misery, its feb. 2nd, and I'm finally free.
Free, of all this pain, and I'm healthy again, I can walk, with out hanging on to anything
or anyone, I can finally be independent again...
now no one cry for me, because i lived a full long life, and no longer in pain..
I love you all.
Love Grammy


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Titanium

A Silver Fluidity, stronger than time Crystal shatters against me, in my prime I’m bulletproof, and echoes rebound Piercing ricochet’s, transmitting the sound I fell from Heaven, fast and strong Into a world, endangered by wrong I wasn’t a hero, just a moment of love A second chance for humanity, sent from above I’m a legend, a titan of Greek mythology The body of an Adonis, the dream of muscology I defend the greater good, and eliminate the hate My methods far from clean cut, they’re an ethical debate I was born Titanium, with a sword in hand I can manipulate thunder, with a wave of my hand I am Titanium, and the overlord is my enemy The creator of greed, money and the impecunious amenity


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Mother to Son

You live in another world
spiritual realm your heaven
a powerful entity in itself.

The watching of your loved ones
from the angels sky
sprinkling your wishes
of joy to them all.

Never missing anything
from the highest plane
where you can move on
to another journey.

The past, present and future
are all multi-dimensional
in the hall of records
where past judgments lie.

Spread your angel wings
fly down to me upon the earth
so I can feel you once more.


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Mourning by Kenneth Morales 8th grade

At a graveyard, looking down at
the grave. In deep emotional pain.
Hoping that, that one person is in
a better place. Last few weeks
for her have been hell. But everybody
gave her a blessing and 
then she passed away. Now she's 
with God, looking down on me.

Love you grandma.


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Together

Many roads I travel end on one
Walking at night I can't stand the sun
The sound of shaking leaves
The crying of old trees
I enjoy the woods, it's my place of peace
I hear something different
So I stand still and freeze
Listening closely the noise is a cry
The power of the forest tells me to fly
Getting closer I begin to fall
I don't know whats ahead, but I risk it all
As I land all that I can see
Is a girl wanting to be with me
I pick her up and wipe her tears
Using my powers I destroy her fears
I kiss her lips as she kisses mine
I tell her things will be just fine
Stay with me forever and ever
We will be happy living together...


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Elusive Graspings For Happiness

Trying so hard to see the good in humankind, 

Just praying for that butterfly's fervent caress 

Disappointed again and again and feeling so blind, 

Sadness is but a blink away from life's true joy 

The pathetic thing is others need love as much as you, 

So many you've trusted have treated you just like a toy 

Yet deep seeded hatred is so hard to see through, 

Remember compassion can help to clear one's mind 

It takes every ounce of faith to avoid the valley of the blue, 

We must help each other or paradise we'll never find

Copyright © 2014 Robert William Gruhn - All Rights Reserved

"A poem to me is the essence of any thought,
Being built from its foundation into tower scraping sky.
It can fly like no other bird to places never seen,
Even spaceships can only dream of taking its place."

© 2014 Robert William Gruhn


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Apollo, I Am

APOLLO   
        

Apollo God of light, I Am
        a prophetic deity of the Delphic oracle of all men
        the power of healing flows from my hand 

The love of the sun I shall shower across the land
I shall destroy the rats and locust that plague our crops grand    
I reign as dominion over all colonists of simple man 
I shall guard your flocks and herds from the valleys to the desert sand 

Upon this sphere of man, my powers flow................  

Apollo God of Music, I Am
        I shall flood music across the Realm of a new seed
        a psalm of truth to scatter abound 


My attributes shown proud as I travel the crowds
a tripod of vision showing all my prophetic power proud
a bow, an arrow sweeping away drenching clouds
I am all power, I scream to the heavens aloud

Apollo God Of Knowledge, I Am                           
       The truth of all known, in me will be found
       The scrolls of wisdom, I Am


Upon this sphere of man, my powers flow................









           

           


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BLESSED

New hope carried my soul through summer travels
its timing good karmic irony ,found in ancient parables 
I've dared myself to exceed my expectations
I've survived with new creations
displayed on the walls of art galleries 
in towns I'll never see

sometimes wisdom must resolve indecision
No desire no vision
gave myself permission 
never to keep my distnce from success
...blessed


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Sitting by the fire

I went over to a friend’s house to sit by a fire.
The heat penetrates, quenching my desire.
I watch as the flames grow strong and true,
They are much like the fire that burns inside you.

I stand for a while but it gets rather hot.
I drift to a dream; I’m on a mountain top.
I look down and see a miniature world below.
The more I learn, the more I want to know.

I sit down beside it, It crackles and pops.
As the ambers grow hotter it simple just stops.
I watch as the flames devour all the wood.
The heat they provide feels so good.

We have a drink and start to chat.
There is no other place I would rather be at.
I feel this peace grow inside of my heart.
I just want to stay and never depart.

My eyes grow heavy and it’s time to go.
The peace within me continues to grow.
I don’t know of tomorrow, or what it shall show,
I’m just happy today, of this I do know…


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ANYONE CAN CHANGE

Most of us are too quick to judge
not knowing anything about a person,
and distrust is the outcome of ignorance
capable of setting us apart  from civilization;
first gather the facts, not useless rage,
and the belief that anyone can change
draws ourselves to a truth so unknown...


Hear all the words they speak, use intuition;
do they convince you to continue listening,
or throw you off with idignation?
If that voice sounds too unconvincing,
and can't confirm the answers you're expecting,
come up with questions that are pungent:
transforming those ideas with a thought,
and always believe that anyone can change...


Empires have risen, giving the obsolute power
to fearless men who were made into legends;
some were deserving, but most were tyrants of unclemency,
and did shameful and cruel deeds:
torturing or killing anybody who used to dare;
are we learning something from History?


When Attila the Hun rampaged Italy,
Leo the Great...the courageous Pope,
persuaded the savage king 
not to sack the city of Rome; 
and he also believed anyone could change: 
that any heart, with all its brutality and rage,
could replace its rampant fury and grim
with human compassion and mercy...


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A Prayer and Answer

I ask and call to heaven for help I feel God listening as I yelp, out to him shrieking a call, 
praying in the end he won’t let me fall.

Help me I called out for little did I know he has been watching me keeping score; and he 
knew I wanted more.
 
Earn it you must but in your heart you don’t trust, majority of the time raising a fuss.
In pain you are this I know is true, there are many tests you must face before I bring a 
blessing to you.
 
You live in anonymity away from all, giving no one a chance and yet you still call. 
My son don’t you see you can’t live without me I gave you life through two; my will can 
change you given the truth.
 
My blessing in time will come to you, being patient is one thing that you have learned to do.
Do so with care and treat everyone fair, face all your fears leave sinful ways to your peers.
 
By then you will know by my word and all will follow. 

Rest easy my son…
						
James C Bryant Jr.
							
July 24, 2010


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SCARCE HARVEST

War World II was raging over this
southern Italian town* spared by a miracle...
a deluge that suddenly occurred: 
a night of blasting sounds, of rising flames 
as American planes bombarded its buildings;
the Nazis fled to occupied Naples.
In the North, the Fascits were executed,
as the Dictator Mussolini himself was. 


The farms could not be furrowed deep and neat,
fear hung over the farmers' shoulders;
and wheat couldn't grow abundantly to make bread,
and brazen women to a distant granary they went, 
risking their lives to grind the wheat kernels;
they were no young men in town, or the older ones
who had gone to war for a concept so deceptive.
Many youngsters and soldiers were kidnapped by the Nazis, 
to be taken to Germany as prisoners of war...who would have 
challenged the Third Reich, or disobeyed?


Old women with handkerchiefs on their heads, weeping loudly
and mourning the tranquil town it once was...so lovely and happy, 
and their cry was too bitter and inconsolable to be hushed;
now, even bread was taken away from them,
damning the cruel Duce, who had betrayed them for vanity...
why did he bring prosperity to Africa, not to Italy?
Why was his ego so manipulated by Hitler's cleverness...
that he could have conquered peoples and lands?


Ruins and dead kindred...a scenery of dread and abomination,
and the lively memory of begonias on their sunny balconies 
brought a sweet nostalgia in an hour of horror and death;
and gathered among the crumbled walls, their rosaries  
recited with graceful whispers, gave them 
the strength and the courage to desperately grieve:
"Peace, o beloved peace, have you overlooked
the kindness of such humble and honorable spirits?
 

Darkness brought the silence they had sought under the glittering skies,
to hide the ugliness of the war in their gloomy shadows,
never to reveal the devastation of their town;
and with the new sun rising, hope would have been 
renewed in the sunrise's lasting glow.
They would have seen those wheat golden kernels 
bend under their heavy weight and bow.... 
and heard themselves saying," Mercy, o mercy
of our righteous God, let prosperity abound...
as the misty rain slowly comes down!"   

Southern Italian Town:  Baiano

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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FESTIVE DECORATIONS AND HYMNS

Many Christmas Trees are seen
around the Yule Season in my city;
they all are very tall and beautiful,
but the Rockefeller Plaza's Norway spruce 
is the most gigantic and spectacular
with its multicolored lights that resemble stars.



Christmas is a wonderful experience on New York's City busy streets:
stores, pubs, restaurants and shops dress up with decorations so dazzling;
where else can you find a Santa ringing a bell and spreading good cheers...
wishing New Yorkers and visitors a Merry Christmas with a tone so thrilling?
On Christmas Eve, Saint Patrick's Cathedral echoes with joyful hymns,
and Child Jesus smiles at children as they caress His soft and divine face.



Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Whats My Name?

I'm falling down a rabbit hole,

Down, down, down.

No...I'm not Alice...

This isn't just a dream,

This is our reality.

 

I've never fallen faster,

Never been so careless.

Love at first sight,

You make me fearless.

Light catches seize of the shadows,

In a white light washed night.

 

Racing, speeding, down the way,

Twist, twirl, curve, dip, in, out, in between,

Up, down, inside out, night to day.

The clocks hands fly,

Each minute, second, passing faster by.

You take my hand,

It all just melts away.

I'm lost in your arms,

That kiss, I'm breathless.

What's my name?


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Part II-THE GRAVE DIGGER WHO VISITED HEAVEN

Paul had a near-death experience,
one of the most incredible ones...
he visited Heaven: the place of bliss!
And as he climbed the gold stairway,
he heard many familiar voices he had
known in the previous life...they happily
chanted glorifying God, who was seated 
on an ivory throne surrounded by Archangels,
Saints and Prophets whom he remembered
from his Bible readings. He tried to look at
God's face, but he was blinded by an intense light...
more brilliant than the sun itself, then Jesus
approached with his out-stretched arms.
Paul smiled and was elated to have found salvation,
but Jesus kindly said to him, " Paul, your time
hasn't come yet, return to Earth and tell them! "
And briefly pausing He continued, " When that time
comes, your honorable name will be written
in the Book of Life, and angels will carry your new body
on their swift wings and you will enter Paradise! "
Paul's face was expressive of disappointment 
and bitterness and weeping replied, " The people
of Earth deride a grave digger so groggy and grubby,
and they mock him with their delirious laughs;
I would rather be dead than return to them! "
 " Go and show them your mercy! " Jesus commanded him.
Paul had only minutes before he would be buried,
so he rushed back and surprisingly saw a large crowd
attending his service as Father Michael, the Chapel's priest,
performed the last rites by splashing Holy Water 
in and around the shadowy grave. They heard a knock 
coming from inside of the coffin...Paul's voice became louder,
" I am alive, not dead...let me out! " Everyone was horrified
and shocked, but Father Michael ordered the mortician to open
the casket and let Paul out. Jubilation filled the chilly air,
and streaks of light filtered through the murky clouds...their shouts
were heard as far as the outskirts of town: Paul was alive!" 
I sat with Paul the day after under the shade of a fragrant pine,
and he told me about his visit to Heaven with tremendous joy
and fervent faith. He admitted that he was wrong not to have
shown them his compassion and with the sincerest smile
he proclaimed, " My anger and grudge have vanished;
I have forgiven them...I am so glad to have returned! " 


Entered in the ramblig Poet's contest,
" In Search Of The Human Mind"
Assignment: A Near-Death Experience


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My Weakness

My Weakness You are my weakness, you always have been, I sit here waiting for you. My love all wrapped up to give away, And you take it, giving me little in return. My heart is my weakness, it always has been, It never betrays anyone but me. Always giving beyond what anyone asks for. Then I have nothing left inside. Love is my weakness, it always has been. It makes me look through rose-colored glasses. I can’t see who you really are, So I’m left alone, broken and waiting. Anger is my weakness, it always has been. I let it inside my soul and it dictates to me, Finding myself unfulfilled and empty. And the world seems barren and lonely. Happiness is my weakness, it always has been. I miss the little things that I should see. All the negative pieces of my life escape my vision, I never see them until it’s too late. Life is my weakness, it always will be. No matter what I do, I inevitably lose something. But I know in the end, I’ll win, Because I’ll never give in to my weakness.


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Music For The Deaf

Once in awhile, I get so low I can feel myself falling faster into the quick sand. In this case, your love is the pit in which I’m sinking. Can you not hear me crying out for help? Because, I swear I can’t do this on my own. I need you to pull me up.. I guess you don’t see that inside I’m all shook up. I’ll be better off without you, that way I can get myself up and dressed out of this mess. You use me for your own good, but what about my sanity? This lovesick melody that I keep singing to is tearing apart the innocence of me. If you can’t see that, then why do I keep on trying to catch up to you? You won’t have to hear about it anymore though, I’m done with what you made me out to be. I’m too good to be set up by a fool like you! You’ll see one day, my dear. This melody that had me dying inside, is nothing more than music to the deaf now! But, don’t worry.. Maybe, one day you’ll see.. Just Don’t come back to me.


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Part I-THE GRAVE DIGGER WHO VISITED HEAVEN

Everybody was horrified of Paul's scruffy looks
with dirt and mud smeared all over his wrinkled face,
and his long nose with dark spots on its tip;
and a grave digger matched that image,
but he was the nicest person on planet earth:
hard-working, estimable, amicable and honest.
After the day's work was done, Paul stared
at the empty lots and whispered to himself,
" Soon I'll be in one of them...I feel it coming! "
One unlucky afternoon he was standing
on the edge of a newly dug-up grave and accidently
slipped and fell into the twenty-feet excavation;
no screams for help were heard...he was dead!
That same afternoon, there was a burial
and as the corpse's coffin was lowered into the grave,
Father Michael spotted a body lying on the bottom of it,
and it resembled that of Paul....suddenly police 
were notified and minutes later a fire truck arrived
to the dreary scene. Then two young firefighters
lowered themselves into the pitch-dark grave by holding
onto sturdy ropes, and without much effort, 
they pulled his bruised and broken body:
he was pronounced dead at two-thirty.
Paul had a near-death experience, one of the most
incredible ones: he visited heaven, the place of bliss!
And as he climbed the gold stairway, he heard many voices
of those he knew in the previous life...they chanted glorifying God,
who was seated on an ivory throne surrounded by Archangels,
Saints and the Prophets whom he remembered from his Bible readings.


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Inside Her Walls

Inside her walls,
no one hears her cries,
another soldier,
makes time to write.

A decision she made,
while still in high school,
to do something worthy,
keeping her heart so true.

Now far away,
in a lonely place,
she sits,and writes,
to her family in the states.

Trained, and conditioned,
to withstand the worst,
sometimes very hard,
and her body hurts.

The flag is her purpose,
and for everything it stands,
freedom,
for every woman, and man.

Faithfully, and determined,
to do her best,
life as a soldier,
her daily test.

She is a survivor,
this is what she chose,
not dancing all night,
and fancy clothes.

As she seals the envelope,
she gives it a kiss,
for she knows in her heart,
there are always risk.

Inside her walls,
no one hears her cries,
another soldier,
makes time to write.


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Third Parallel

My first love - when we ended,
They told me to pray to God,
And that he would make time,
My new best friend.
And with the love I had for you,
The despair I would fall out of.
My second love - when we ended,
They did not tell me anything,
For what really could they say?
I sit and watch the hands of grace,
Embalming memories of emotion.
Love forbidden to ever die but,
Peace in how under time it hides.
So I still know,
In spirits and parallels,
I am still with you both,
And this was never written.


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Trapped Deep Within Your Robes

When you, Trapped me deep Within Your Robes.

thus Forgiven; I have forgiven you so many times
and you and yes and you.
Yet lest you remember it now naught.
For Tampa, ' was in nineteen sixty five.
Lake Magdalene, I saw no priests nor a
single nun and my mother was not supperior.
What I did see was wrong to be there only seven.
When I am gone the sun so of't 
from whom did we protect me from.
Forgotten I have been by you, 
and you.
and all of the Chief Judges saw me, 
when back then, was it considered normal?
That which was done to one single child back then
went off too many men then grown from which
has left no middle ground on which too stand.
Being said, ' Would I then dare to so remind you
why have I been forgotton now 
and then if naught from whence or where is yours shame 
whose shame before I die.
Did you do it not to yours, 'but a skinny frightned child?
Mr.Wilson and me a few others and knew Tampa stadium
that night as the Washington Redskins played 
the Miami Dolpins when even before, 
Robert Allen "Bob" was so Griese.


is it poetry


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FORGOTTEN BITTERNESS

Someone very close to me has hurt me me badly,
vile words have come out of that vicious mouth,
condemning me of many unjust deeds,
am I to remain silent and defenseless as Christ...
while I'm lashed and stripped of dignity?
More bitter than a lemon, which has never enough
sunlight to sweeten the juice within it;
I have endured evil and have learned how to be patient,
not to fight back with the same viciousness.
O, hurt me again, I will not say anything...
a saint can be martyred for his belief,
but never he will be tortured in the next life!
He holds my weakened hand tightly,
giving me courage, keeping me safe; 
I look to the Heavens and glory is mine!
I am not as bitter as a lemon anymore,
forgiveness has taken long to come...
to make me realize that my agony
is nothing compared to the reward awaiting me!
Every angel smiles and welcomes me with joy;
every gate is open for me to enter freely,
and I wish that person could feel loved and be like me...
walking towards God to know how kind and forgiving He is! 
 


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dreams under dust 1of2

i read and hear online the words 
from the other side of the world, 
the bearded angst and deeply rutted face 
of a soul with far, far too much 
sorrow to carry.

my eyes well, as i 
cannot help but too, 
share in the sorrow 
of the loss born by 
farmer Muhammad Wazir

Muhammad, from Panjwai district lost:
his mother, Shakarina,
his wife, Zahra,
his four daughters, 
Massoma, Farida, Palwasha and Bibya
two of his sons, 
Ismatullah and Faizullah,
a brother, Akhtar,
a nephew and 
a sister-in-law

Only the youngest son
Habib Shah is still alive
How can a father, a husband,
a son, a brother, bare it?

"I loved them all like 
they were parts of my body,... 
All my dreams are buried 
under a pile of dust now"
Wazir states. "My little boy, 
Habib Shah, is the only one 
left alive, and I love him 
very much" says Wazir.

I have a hard time
with the concept that it
must be God's will
to condemn anyone to this

Did Staff Sgt. Robert Bales
snap like a twig in the 
wanton disregard to sanctity
of children and mothers...
civilians. Who can forgive?
...Who can stand it?

Bales' wife Karilyn sends 
"condolences to all the people 
of the Panjawai District ... 
especially to the parents, 
brothers, sisters and grandparents 
of the children who perished"

Though heartfelt to be sure
she must realize that Bob
is beyond "normal" forgiveness
A strength like the Amish 
is needed to look into 
enraged hate filled eyes
with tearful forgiveness

What good...what good can
we possibly squeeze from
such tragic carnage?
Maybe God knows that answer.
I can only feel the sorrow.

meanwhile in Toulouse, France
Mr. Mohammed Merah,
a Frenchman of Algerian decent
knows in his heart that
retribution is necessary

and three French paratroopers, 
of North African descent, 
as well as a Rabbi and 
three Jewish schoolchildren,
pay with their lives

the Rabbi, and his two daughters
might have been aware of their
responsibility for the Panjwai
tragedy, perhaps not,

....{continued in 2of2}

© Goode Guy 2012-03-21


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THE REDWOOD TREES IN MY FOREST

On a dusty and narrow path dwarfed by the enormous
redwood trees, which have conquered all of the soft-blue sky;
I walk and I'm astonished by the tallest of them all! 
Winter has left and the snows begin to melt away, to invite a lovely butterfly
to perch on wildflowers like aspens and mountain daisies swaying at the foothill;
and right beyond them, granite cliffs gloriously shine like those
northern mountains' peaks dabbed with spring snow;
oh, yesterday they were invisible to the blinking eye!



I stroll underneath groves of sequoia and white fir, and see myself really small;
and these giant trees encircling me, will lament how they shiver when they're cold,
and sad when battered by the storm; how they'll strive for lack of space and sunlight,
but wildfires may cause destruction and leave this forest barren and arid! I fix my glance
upward, and I start spinning and whirling in the stylish manner of an experienced dancer,
and they spin along with me, in a soft crescendo, never falling down with an awkward thud!  
I continue walking and admiring the majestic view of a creation, too inspiring and sublime,
which was hidden from these very eyes...to make their discovery more exciting and fun!



Who hasn't seen the redwood trees in my forest? Come along and satisfy your curiousity;
these trees have more stories to tell more than a victorious warrior galloping his horse away;
and for decades, they have seen greedy hands cut them down without regard or mercy...
depleting nature of its internal richness, and when it rains, floods corrode its terrain!
Imagine what the earth will become without any of these, adorning it with a variety of colors;
look closer, some of them are covered with thick lichen, others show a cinnamon, 
hard bark, so protect Nature with your best ability and be rewarded with amazing results!
A forest, which displays its wild and natural beauty, is a treasure like my redwood trees!    

Entered in Constance La France's contest, "A walk to remember" 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Untitled #62 / St. Gregory

Dear old St. Gregory spent fifteen years
trapped at the bottom of a dungeon 
around 301 AD, bringing Christianity to Armenia.
What madness then drove him to save the king and his men?
What boundless love!


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A CHILD PASSED BY

Long pressing 

Bears the weight of the falling world around me

Over tinkered days and hollowed years 

Has the growing spiral of downward turn 

Unwound before my eyes

As my heart and mind

Have weathered

And my soul and will

Have crumbled…bit by bit 

To the sorrowed step of un-kept time 

And I 

I have stood as if motionless

Looking on

While the blackened vines of ignorance 

And the fettered thorns of foolish greed

Have smothered, as would seem, all before me

And while I sat in huddled desperation 

Seeking not but to continue on in mere existence

A child passed by…

And suddenly I felt to leave all behind

And follow


…Jeff Bresee


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Peace

Let us take a stroll,
into this war torn place,
where there is no answer,
and some people thrive on hate.

Let us take a stroll,
as we hide behind a wall,
one you cannot see,
absent of justice or law.

Let us take a stroll,
and pray for all this to end,
rebuild a world of respect,
even if we all can't be friends.

Let us take a stroll,
and question what is right,
the people of this place,
didn't ask for this fight.

Let us take a stroll,
and beg for peace right now,
we need to love each other,
and end this all somehow.


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Heroism and Passion

Flying high into the sky, 
I see you are sincere, kindhearted, 
fascinating and interesting…

How it really was when it mattered,
what was a long, long summer day, that
you brought history to our front door…

You could get your teeth into that juicy story,
 of remembrance, that was what kept you
 from going crazy…

Human character acts differently in 
each of us some can handle the stresses 
of war and combat while others cannot…

How and why we must self- justify 
what we do and how the world sees us 
and how the world is in upheaval…

To see you as a hero and your passion 
for freedom is overwhelming to say the
 least, but, it is greatly appreciated by
 the majority…

Keep up the good work,
 for we do remember and appreciate
 our freedom that you have fought 
so hard for…

By Sandra Lea Hoban
©2008


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For You I Came!

I left My glory,
And came down to earth.
In a lowly way,
Of a child's birth.

I grew through the years,
Overcoming all temptation.
So I could present Myself,
A sacrifice for your salvation.

Throughout My ministry,
I did My Father's will.
Even knowing that one day,
For sin, My blood would spill!

I suffered the cross,
Loving you kept Me there.
Because I wanted a,
Relationship we could share.

Dying for you so I,
Could wash away your sin.
And once you've asked,
I'll come live with-in.

It's for you I came,
And all others too!
Because I want to spend,
Eternity with you!


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THE CROSS OF OUR SAVIOR

An aged cedar's fallen trunk was taken from 
              a remote, quite grove by a stone wall,
and brought to Jerusalem to build
              the wooden cross on which Christ was crucified, 
after He was condemned to death by Pontius Pilate;
              those rough planks, not smoothed out by skilled  
hands, made Jesus bleed, and Judas stared
              at His leaning forehead,
              pierced by a crown made
of thorns, not fit for a heavenly King...
              destined to die so young for Mankind!
On the way to painful Calvary, Jesus fell
               three times, crushed by the weight                   
of the heavy cross while being called an impostor
               by a crowd, which shouted and laughed;
Josephus believed Him to be the Christ,   
               whom Isaiah prophesied very long ago...
He called Him Wonderful, the Prince of Peace!
               Rejoice faithful, He has risen
from His tomb, and He's sitting by His father's right
               end for all eternity, to lord over nations! 
Look into those bright clouds...He's alive!        

                                                                                         
                
 Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Waiting

 
Waiting...Waiting
...Waiting   
 
  Waiting
dressed as a lady in waiting
You come unto me
In the myst of the night
The river so bright
The moon shines above
smiling on the stars
The tide roars in
almost speaking in voice
On the sand 
You approach 
Through a cloud of fog
First your legs
Then your arms as they swing
Followed by your glorious body
with a mysterious smile
You come upon me not stopping
We are engulfed
The TWO...ONE
Waiting No more

Peter LeBuhn

Copyright ©2005 Peter B. LeBuhn 

Peter LeBuhn 
 
 


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I Took A Picture

I took a picture once as a thought of love and compassion
It showed me things that I couldn't  hold, touch or imagine
Such details such care that GOD put into this air we all share
And when I was there old friends I did see for they too would stare
At the glory of beauty we all can have as a dare, can we believe
The love and emotion I felt when I look at this picture was received
For you to enjoy you must let go and go the distance
Truly open the mind and feel your existence
For that picture captured you at your best and kept a second of your essence
For others to love, feel and see when they think of the past or the present
Remember my words they will ring true
The next time you look at a picture, you will see things anew


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Fallen Heroes

Fallen heroes of the past, 
present and future…

Let us not ever forget, those that
have given there lives for our
freedom and been there,
whenever they were needed…

Freedom does not come cheap,
and those who have given, there 
lives for us while protecting our 
freedom shall always be remembered…

We shall not forget, our fallen heroes!

By Sandra L. Hoban
©2004


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Uncule Raven

The  uncule raven in din
In undying bueshing sin
Crying  fortishly , crin
 Try in the essence of quin
Roll scriptural to win sense
pray untotinaly naively
near in far winish your strength 
now in here place your antogule 
how in again rise your effluence
high in low morn for the lost soul
over in under mar your perch wide
quite in sound reloune secret nature
up in down find the clown
round in around  place the frown
away in apart think of unrainishing heart
when  invoking the troubled phood
time and give your true loves first kiss
coy and shy remart your silent cry
front in lonely revarnish it's heartful song


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vignette-PEACE...BE STILL

I saw the wind whip up the sea,
I sensed the fear deep in thee,
As we sailed across Galilee-
To the storm I then spoke these words..
Greater comfort..you've never heard.


See more @ Mk 4:35

Inspred by Senses/Elements contest


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The Chase

   Speed, adrenaline, the rush and wind.
Cheeks stinging, hair flying, cold skin.
   Why am I running?
From who or what?
   I can't recall, the rush makes me stop, not my feet, but my mind.
Thoughts that flow out through the passing time.
   Breathing as if no air will ever appear.
The magical surrounding of stars and trees, along with street light rushing by me.
   Reaching out to touch, the never staying stranger.
It gets dark, not just any dark, but as if a black hole.
   It wraps its self around me, engulfing my essence.
Shadows chase after me.
   Not to scare, but to make me aware.
The run becomes an endless abyss.
   What am I running from?
Is it my unforgettable past?
   Maybe its the undetermined future.
Am I being chased?
   I see nothing, but what stands befor me.
Longing to reach my goal.
   Can you see now?
Its not a chase, but a simple desire to run.
   To run for fun.
To enjoy the moon and stars.
   No houses or cars.
A desire like nothing else, to be by myself.
   My head is humming and my heart is thumping.


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A quest for peace in Baghdad

Moving toward the absurd as war in Baghdad goes on,
along with the print traffic jam and airwaves;
continues to unfold horror stories, deaths: a tinku 
that spew out of Iraq – the ancient Middle East sand.

  Skepticism has drawn a timely relevance,
  that predicts the future as a major stand;
  sending troops in the combat zone, a 50/50 case
  either a winning or losing in the battle ground.

Like a cacophany of voices across the land,
So deep and lugubrious that pervades –
‘enough! we’re helpless and marginalized’
a reflection that’s claims stop and be reconciled.

  The steady stream of U.S. young soldiers
  being sent to fight and be part of the plan
  adds sinews to war but not a total assurance
  where success can be at hand or defeat in the long run.

Antiwar sentiments hover like a gospel cry,
with globalized reactions bonded with supplications;
a great deal of struggles among people of cultures,
that someday peace will reign and sing glory to God on high.


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ON THIS BLESSED SHORE

On this blessed shore,
every gate opens wide around sunset and dawn,
and the foreigners flow in...like waves rolling along;
all movements and images sketched
in linear prospective as if reality didn't exist,
permitting subsistence not to evade
from the sublunary harbor draped in aqua suede.



Many explorers from the Old Word
paid her a visit on slow vessels loaded with necessities,
in the hope of finding precious stones and gold;
and Columbus succeeded in his quest,
and all of these he brought back...
a new frontier was discovered and millions
flocked to these friendly shores with empty pockets,
but with dreams that would have made that young nation great.



On this blessed shore,
all are welcome if their character is good,
and the desire to get wealthy, with persistent sacrifice,
is reflected in their undisputed honesty and endurance;
Emma Lazarus wrote of these immigrants in her immortal sonnet,
which the wretched, the impoverished and the persecuted cannot ignore...
Read it again, doesn't it ask your libertarian souls to devour it more?



On this blessed shore,
peace dwells at a tremendous cost,
soldiers have gone to foreign lands to fight, 
so that it may never lose its God-given right...
to spread it beyond its bounderies for all nations to admire;
and the proud citizens sing their national anthem to enhance its worth...
how can a Nation, guided and protected by God, not rejoice in its freedom? 


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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The World

The world may hold many things, 
a choice we make when we wake up everyday.
To fall to the fate of chance.
Some may be bad and others that are amazing.
We can not judge what we do not know. 
The things that we cherish some times leave and we go though the process 
of  what they call grief.
At times i wonder what the world is really all about.
It is a question that will never have an answer, but i will always wonder.
Is it a place where love is made and life begins where happiness is just a hand 
shake away. 
You would like to believe that, but really the world i see is sadness, pain, 
suffering, death and war.
Beauty queens always say " i want world peace " well duh!, who doesn't want that.
I would be happy if we lived in a world where watching the news doesn't make 
me cry.
Where peace meant one day without hearing about the death of another 
American soldier.
It would be a great day if the world kept turning.


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Save A Child

   

The very saddest thing the saddest of all,
     Is to see a little small child starving and waiting for death to call.
And see it’s momma pleading with her eyes hoping someone will help her child.
     While we sit here obese with our plates so full, how high the food is really 
piled!!
Our world is so unbalanced and so unfair,
      There is enough to go around but we have to share.
If every person could hold a starving child as it draws it’s last breath,
      And have that child look into your eyes with hopes you have come to spare it 
this death.
I think maybe then we would all reach into our jeans,
     And share what we’ve got so none of us has to witness this scene.
I pray that peace and happiness fill every ones heart,
     And that we all dig a little deeper and let this gift of sharing grow from the start.
A starving child is no ones enemy,
     And pity won’t feed it or set it free.
If you can help and you don’t that is like committing a crime,
    I pray you and yours never experience this sadness and that it can be stopped 
in our lifetime.
Send what you can I know you’ll be blessed,
     Help that little child please give it your best.


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Through The Door

The First One Through The Door
Is The Last To Fall Behind
Our Eyes Locked Forward
Bound By The Undefined
Perceptions Fade Quiet
And Dreams Fall Before
Our Hearts Broke Open
As We’re Passing Through The Door

An Age Of Conformation
Desensitized And Surreal
A Loss Of The Lack Of Emotion
Tell Me How It Feels
Everyday Is Just Another Day
Caught Up In The Whipping Post
While The First One Through The Door
Is Left A Lonely Host

So Step Right Up
And Pass On Through
Things Will Never Be The Same
But You Won’t Have A Clue
The Door Is Always Open
And Never In Disguise
Through The Door Of Perception
We’ll Open Up Your Eyes


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Lovespell

One century has passed
true love survives troubled pasts
once our intuition failed
yet through this spiritual veil
you listened,ignoring my indifference
You yearned what was
I yearned physical love
yet your kind calming presence 
is my patience's present

Neither spoke yet our hearts woke 
amidst this silence, both yearned what never was
Unconditional sacred love
Unnerved by your naked curves
its suductive symmetry...flesh harmony
yet your blessed beyond flesh

May wisdom strenghthen our passion
is an everlasting dream and our sacred victory
our troubled past lost like stolen memories


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THE FIRST BLIZZARD

Snow is falling heavily by the minute
from the whitest sky, which yesterday...
had me fooled for a perfect spring day.
Fall, pretty and fluffy snowflakes, fall...
floating and gracefully coming down
on the frozen hollies with empty nests.
The breath-taking snowy spectacle
can make one fantasize and dream...
oh, I'm dreaming by feeling the chill!
Little sparrows searching for shelter,
don't brave the dangerous blizzard...
step inside quickly and keep warm.
Driving in snow and ice is very hazardous,
I'm staying home and listen to the forecast...
it won't get any better as the day progresses.  
How much snow will fall, I cannot predict,
and the weather man is as puzzled as I am...
it would be embarassing to be wrong again.
Sweet, hot chocolate and lemon tea are my choices,
to prevent chills from entering these unwilling bones...
before venturing outside and shovel plenty of snow. 


Copyright 2010 by Andrew Crisci


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Notes For Falling To

I find myself falling, totally completely falling.
This feeling new and foreign to me.
My heart is being given to someone when I never would have thought it could 
happen again.
His voice floating to me over the phone line, so sexy, so smooth.
A lifetime to discuss, to listen to, to share with my love.
Falling for all he share's with me.
Falling for all he gives of himself to me.
Sweet, deep written words flood my in box.
Reliving that sweet anticipation as if Christmas morning as I type in my 
password.
Nothing bittersweet in his words.
They're compelling, intriguing, a brutal honesty and thoughtfulness that I thought 
was long gone in this world.
Sweet nothings before bed.
Hugs and kisses to wake up to.
I know in this one I have found my place.
His words whether spoken or written lift me and fill me.
I do not doubt the trust I feel in this one, this joy and happiness.
Essays await me, expounding hopes and dreams when I felt unworthy to have 
them again.
Love is blossoming, growing, the petals of it opening up under the warmth of the 
sun.
I'm falling.
And I'm happy.
His words as soothing to my soul as his touch is to my skin.
I'm his.
I've fallen.


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Voices

Some days I just want to scream
And scream
And scream
And get all of these voices
Out of my head.

I just want them all to go
To go out and far away
I just want some peace and quiet
I just really, really want 
some peace and quiet.

No voices from the outside
No voices from the inside

Some days I just want to scream
And scream
And scream
A basic primordial scream
Until I can’t anymore.

Until I’m lying down on the floor
And I can wrap myself in me.
A comfortable place to be
And then I can go to sleep
And not hear anymore voices.


(November 13, 2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)

(c) Copyright 2010 by Christine A Kysely, All Rights Reserved 


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The Burning Veil

My eyes were opened to a bright red burning veil.
Sun scorched and Moon dried,
It was fried!
But, I brought it some water in a crystal blue pale.
The more it burned higher went the scale,
God knows that I at least tried.
There was just nowhere to hide.
But, I wasn’t about to fail.
 
I put the veil in the water and made it wet.
I held it to the Sun and the Moon to air dry.
The veil melted and glowed where it was set.
It was sparkling and made me want to cry.
Perception had been weakened to what it really should be.
At least, that’s what the burning veil conveyed to the truth inside of me!
 


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My Dearly Departed

In this world, I can see many faces of you and me,
Boundlessly free with our new abilities to breathe!
I am a dime per every one dozen collecting my fee.

You see, it is just you and me rising upon this day.
Together we do be and forever on our merriest way.
It is just another day for you and me to pitch a say.

We are one word away you see my dearly departed,
We can all bail ship or get this whole thing restarted.
Or, we can confirm that which became our imparted.

Love me now and hate me later,
Or, love me later and hate me now.
Either or my dearly departed hater,
I impart onto you my Poof Bam Pow!

® Registered: Ann Rich 2009


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Untitled #87 / Outside the Capitol

Outside the Capitol
a young veteran is carrying
a flag, upside-down
and a wheeled coffin containing his friend
harsh words are tossed, and a Patriot
sneaks behind, robbing the deceased of his
combat boots. Fly off!
Ah, but quicker feet! Tackled from behind!
Punches thrown! A fight!
Who is winning?


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Happiness

Greetings weary traveler of the realm 
We welcome you with open arms and unconditional love 
Gaze upon the awesome beauty of creation 
Drink from the stream of forgiveness 
While we the keepers of tomorrow 
Cool your brow with the gentle breeze of compassion 
Walk with us down the lane of eternity 
Smell the sweet pine, taste the honeysuckle 
You have traveled far through the ruins of the past 
We have waited patiently 
All those you have ever loved are here 
Never again to regress 
They call this place Happiness 
Forever here you shall dwell 
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust 


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' We ' and ' They ' Saw ... '

                  ‘ We  and  They  Saw … ’ 
         (or) A Testament To A Holy-Helper


              My Beloved, God … Most High
         Creator Of  Celestial, Heavenly Skies
          And The Earth and Wind-Blown Seas
      And All That Lives and Moves and Breathes
               and Every Magnitude Thereof …

            Bless You and Your Son , Because:


That Day, I Saw Your Hand, God …     ------  Ps. 109: 27 , 28
That Night, I Saw Your Might
‘ You ’ Moved Everything In Motion
And Brought It To The Light

‘ You ‘ Wanted Them To Know
‘ You ‘ Made Sure They Saw
and when ‘Caught’, They Know … ‘ I Knew ’
when ‘ You ‘ Cracked Them, On Their Jaw …

… So Wide-Opened, Gasping Like A Fish
‘ I ‘ Heard Their Misery, Intense
They Fumed in Rage and Ignorance
‘Cause My God, Fought For Me !  “I'm Convinced” …

I Tried To Warn Them, Holy Father
Tried To Help Set Them Free
But, They ‘ Kept (and Keep) On ’ Acting Evil
… They Know What and Who They Be !

… Playing Name-Games … Should Be Ashamed !
 of Their Jealousy … and Trying To Mess With Me
Their Deceit, will be Their Defeat
in Their Lies and yeah,‘ I Heard ’ Their Cries !

… and Their Own Sick-Stupidity
May Set ‘em  666 Feet-Down-Rigidity …
And All … This Was Uncalled For !
 ‘ Lord ’ Knows, I Don’t Bring Harm … No More !

But, ‘ You ’ Are The Judge, Holy One
Yes … ‘ You ’ Are:  Final Say and The Law …
And ‘ You ’ Showed Me … ‘ You ’ Wanted Them To Know
What ‘ We ’  and ‘ They ’  All  Saw !


            (The Day I Wrote This … 
      I Mean, Right After I Wrote This
           I Opened Up The Bible … 
               And There It Was ...
      My Ok-Heavenly, Confirmation …
          Everything Is Alright Still
             ...  Psalms 109: 27, 28  )
       God, Save Us 'All' From Sin ... 
                       Amen

                     MoonBee


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MOSAIC MOMENTS

This moment does not truly belong to you,
-It is good and right for you to be free to let it go.
For you can only see this one little piece
You hold tightly in your fist.
But, put it down and let it stand 
In its rightful place – it will become a crucial part 
Of this beautiful mosaic called your life.


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A Thistle, a Cedar and a Wild Beast

In Lebanon there was a thistle, 
A cedar, and a wild beast.
The thistle was in full bloom.
With its purple blossoms and prickly green leaves and stalk,
It pierced all who would dare touch it.
Though low to the earth for humility,
One day out of its own pride and glory,
The thistle threatened the cedar, who was standing tall and red
Emitting its pure fragrance in the cool breeze
With its branches lifted high and wide toward Heaven
Full of unwithered green leaves.
"Give your daughter to my son in marriage!"
Shouted the thistle under a looming shadow.
But the cedar held its peace, 
Neither felled it any of its branches.
Then in a moment of terrible humiliation,
A wild beast suddenly pounced upon and ferociously trampled
The crowned and purple thistle and passed on by,
But the cedar still stands there today.
Uncrowned thistles and beasts rest under its shade.


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Daydreaming

There are some days when I just want to sit around 
During certain moments and just relax doing nothing. 
In my back porch I just enjoy all the views I can get 
It is so nice to dream away and just let go of things. 

This day is kind of nice and it is neither cold nor warm 
It seems like the perfect day and the sky has a pleasant blue hue. 
And as far as I can see now there's not even a single storm 
There's nothing in my life right now that could ruin this day for me. 

Well that's what I like to think at least especially in a pretty day like this 
But well all we know that nothing will stay in this life for us the same way. 
I remember all the good times I had and all the people I love so dearly and miss 
I see no butterflies fluttering 'bout my garden but still I am having a great day. 

I plan to get hold of some of my blank pages and then I'll seize my pen and write too 
There's something so wonderful 'round me that can't describe but that's the way I feel today!


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I Am Blessed

I'm just a little Southern Gal,
and not much I do possess,
but after all is said, and done,
I know when I've been blessed.
You see, fancy clothes do not matter
to me,
and a fine new car, I probably will
never see,
and when I die, I know I can't take them
with me.
The only thing, that is really mine,
upon God's spinning ball,
is the love within my heart,
and He shares the gift, with one,
and all.
He gives me what I need,
although I have questioned Him
many times,
why do some have so much,
and I squeeze every dime.
Then the answers are revealed,
to my unseeing eyes,
your mansion is in Heaven,
and these things don't matter you seek,
then I know what God has given me, will always
be mine to keep.


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Sunshine when it's rains

Sunshines when it rains
In order 4 a flower 2 grow you have 2  have
sunshine and rain
heartache and pain
dis likes and likes

nThroughout life you will always have ur set of trials. 
But you can never be a winner unless u over come the obstacles that are 
constantly surrounding you.
I did it why cant u
that's the thing 
you can make it
with God
as ya strength anything is possible
Just belive and it shall come 2 pass......


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Untitled #88 / Empty Pentagon

Late summer, late afternoon
in front of the empty Pentagon
the protest is over, nothing’s changed,
I’m walking home. But a young man,
black, blue jean jacket, buttons
passes in front. A smile exchanged.
The truth is known.


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Freedom's Price

What price is freedom? 
Does anyone truly know? 
Can it be tallied up?
Brought out for show 

How is freedom measured? 
By its losses or its gain? 
Do we value it more than life? 
So we suffer through the insane 

Do we too easily accept 
That it's the way it has to be? 
Any sacrifice not too much 
In the quest to remain free 

Way easier to accept I'm sure 
If your not the one fighting the cause 
If you were I think it really would 
Give you every reason to pause

To see caskets arriving home 
We know the price too high 
In the name of so called freedom 
Far too many will have to die 

For loved ones left behind 
No freedom will ever be gained
For they will be bound and tied 
To live forever in their pain 

The freedom flag may fly 
But who will be left to see? 
Dead men don't have eyes 
Their souls the only thing free 

We think we have evolved 
From the brutality of the past 
Turn on the news each day 
The die has already been cast

What kind of world we do live in 
Were peace can't be achieved by words 
Where brawn replaces brains in men 
And freedom is gained through swords

What is freedom truly? 
Does anyone really know?
If it means the right to choose 
Then I'm sure I would say no 

I'd say no to violence 
Every single day
We have to just figure it out
There has to be a better way

A way to keep our loved ones safe 
Ways to help those in need 
There simply has to be an answer 
To allow us to eventually succeed

For all the families that have suffered 
We have to make sure there are no more 
In man's journey for peace and freedom 
We need to learn to shut the door on war!



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Marketplace Massacre

Flowers lie upon a grave, innocence dead in a foreign land
The peace shattered like ice when bombs burst in burning sand
Children taken in the prime of life, gone with just a passing glance
As planes fly overhead, circling their targets in a macabre dance
Bombs drop and explode, tearing through a market and a child
The mother drops to her knees, and the crowd becomes wild
As the child shudders, frozen with fear and anguish as he lies
His mother shouts for help, through broken sobs and cries
Cries heard in the hearts of millions, but disregarded by most
As thousands of miles away sits this war’s malevolent host
He speaks of happier times ahead, freedom is on the march
Tell it to the children, whose parents he killed, or is that too harsh?
A criminal speaks to the nation, of dire threats and genocide
Invoking the names of the dead to bring the living to his side
To take up arms against one’s fellow man, to commit atrocities in his name
And with thousands buried in simple graves, with him lies the blame			
As good men and women fall in his name for his bloody endeavor
People at home and around the world raise their voices and shout “Freedom! Forever!”


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Blood Red Rain

If blood rained red over the White House, what would the president do?
In the shower of blood of fallen soldiers and innocent women and children
Would Bush fall to his knees and beg forgiveness, or dance a macabre twirl
Like a shower on his wedding day, or a haunting nightmare of past misdeeds
The blood tide of all those that have died stains the pristine green lawn 
In the face of the consequence of his actions, would he still proclaim freedom? 
Seeing the blood of the fallen, raining, staining the White House a sanguine red
Victims of the unholy marriage of war and peace, like two sides of a trick coin
Tossed into the air without care for however it lands, the result is still war
Thousands dead in unmarked graves, or flag draped coffins, all will turn to ash
If the ashes blew in a torrent of blood and storm, would Bush apologize
For all the lies he's told to kill these innocent souls, or would he just turn away?
And return to the heart of his empire, the oval office, as cold and dead as his soul
Through the cries of the fallen lies a chance for redemption, will he choose it
Atone for the crimes and apologize to those shattered hearts who loved and lost?
Time alone will tell, with the tolling of the bell...


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Autumn Dream

                                                  Autumn day ages slow
                                        gazing through canvas windows
                                                molten gold amber glow
                                                        burning glare 
                melting summer's stratus...gentle fabric,stretch and tear
                                              cloudless blue canvas sky
                                             over miles of summer's rye

                           Lime blossoms turn copper,orange,amber gold
                               summer's orchids sunpaled and aged old
                 wilting flower tree pedals litter endless verdant meadows
                           
     Passing through autumn meadows nestled sleep in verdant country woods
              In the quiet secret of dreams peace its essence understood

                             Twilight...burning sky...black amber fire clouds
                          glitter stars shone through cosmic night's shroud

                                       Curiosity enhanced night vision
                                        walking barefoot as I listened
to night's calming silence, beneath its wild verdance peace its gift and purpose

                                                Morning silent peace
                                         day's guilded air...cool relief
                              next autumn's seeds nestled beneath
                                                  winter's first snow


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Yearbook for the Blind

Silence has taken it’s toll on me
A breeze sifts through the light fabrics of my shirt
Stalling time
In the yearbook for the blind.

Creeping upon me is the quiet of the air
Forever captured in never-ending scenery
The soft daylight reaching through to the reader’s sensitive fingertips
Miniature lush green leaves of miniature trees forever held in place.

I stand frozen in a memory
Smiling an anxious smile
Cooly hooking my thumbs with the belt loop
Paralyzed
In a yearbook for the blind.


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Someday You'll See

     

The words he wrote were chiseled in stone.
    Meant for me, and me alone.
An epitaph of days gone by.
    Sentiments and reasons why.
Words etched into this marble rock.
    For all eternity, like a timeless clock.
Born this day the words did say.
    And then the date of my passing away.
Then the line I liked, this is how it read.
    I went to heaven though my body’s dead.
I’m happy now no pain at all.
    This brand new body, I’m having a ball.
So lighten up don’t cry for me.
    I’m happy now someday you’ll see.
When we’re together I saved this dance for you.
    We can dance on clouds and rainbows too.
Until that day I’ll be waiting dear.
     And watching for you to one day appear.
R.I.P. is not for me.
     For I’m at peace but there is too much to do someday you’ll see.
So drop the R and leave the I.P.
     I’m at peace and don’t need no rest, I don’t need to tell you someday you’ll see!


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They Say He Is Coming

Do you see that golden glow over there?
it must be the angels coming from Heaven, so fair.

I hear the sweetest sound so faint in my ear,
it  is coming closer, now do you hear?

Stories of comfort, and peace, have been told,
as the pages of truth, begin to unfold.

Beauty unlike anything ever seen,
imaginable, only in a dream.

Words have no meaning here,
only your works, from a heart so dear.

Rainbows are cathedrals, magic is everywhere,
stairways so high, the angels are waiting there.

Clouds so perfect, drifting through silverery stars,
and a golden throne, I see in the distance, a far.

The sparkle, the glitter, that is surrounding me,
they say, He is coming, our Heavenly King.








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Shadows of Turning

One shadow.  Two shadows..  Three shadows... 
And two remain when the third one fades,
Until the light is directly behind me.  
And then there's just one.
As I move further away, a second and third one
Is cast from the light just ahead, 
And one of the three disappears
As the other joins the one behind me,  
Like an off-centered aura;
And when I walk from whence I came
There is my shadow and its aura in front of me,
Mimicking my every movement, until they join as one.
Then two others appear as I near a light,
The two at my side are strong,
As the one in front flickers away, 
So goes the one at my left side;
And the one behind, alone, slowly walks ahead of me.
Almost simultaneously disappearing, 
Until the shadow with an aura appears
And move around from back to left to front;
And so goes the cycle as I move from light to light, 
Until I see only one shadow,
Which slowly fades as I turn to go left, 
Then a lighter one angles long and leftward,
Disappearing quickly as the two reappear 
At an angle behind me, to my left, then a bit ahead
Until I turn left again and rest beside the column, 
And there I rest just me and my shadows.


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Bring Them Home

I can still see his face in the early light,
as he boarded his plane for that fatal flight.

Kisses being thrown from a window so far,
taking him from me, back to that war.

On the drive home, I thought to myself,
of his boyhood days, and then I wept.

I had him back for  just a few short weeks,
never expecting a heart full of grief.

Somebody do something, get them out of there,
I'm beginning to think, no one cares.

Imagine for a moment,  just take a little time,
your loved one fighting in a country so blind.

Barbaric actions from the enemy within,
friend fighting friend , and next of kin.

I think it is time to bring them home,
"we can't change others, that's their home."



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Midnight Waltz

Dazzling twilight
Sparkling starlight
Ocher lights all around
Heavens are chanting
Nature is prancing
Anticipating concerto sounds
Zephyr tantalizing
Music harmonizing
Grand flora sway lofty in a row
Nightingale ready
Standing steady
Awaiting her cue from the Maestro
Gesture is given
Moment for singing
She shares an inspirational serenade 
Welcome midnight waltz
Tonight, no faults
Night dances in a splendid cascade
Sonata swarms
Tranquility warms
Finale’ is here. Morning’s first light
Evening in awe
Heaven applauds
Bravo. Fortissimo.
Thank you. Goodnight.


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A Broken Heart

        
Here i am
Sitting 
Thinking
of how my heart is being torn apart
I gave it to you
And you shattered it at my feet
I loved you
Called u ma great one
But you played me
And 2 think 
Just maybe
Maybe you still cared
Maybe you still love me
Maybe you will come back and mend all the broken pieces of my heart. Put back 
the pieces that u vigorously torn apart.
And here i am
Thinking about ya smile
Your humor
Ya love
that love that i thought could only come from up above...... 
I used 2 be Beautiful
Now look at me
I gave u ma heart and u torn it apart
I gave u ma soul and u just lost control
I gave u something that u wasn't ready 4 yet
I will never forget 
the pain
the agony
the lies
the love
the peace 
the joy
we shared
but it's time 2 move on
I held out  ma world 
and u shattered it at ma feet
like i wasn't worth ya time
You call when all ya dates left u
When they  came back u then left me
I held out ma arms 4 so long
im used 2 it
but jus recently i figured out something 
IM A BEAUTIFUL 
SEXY
COMPASSIONATE
CARING
LOVING
UNDERSTANDING 
SMART
INTELLIGENT 
person
it took me a while 2 recognize it
but i got it just on time
Im leaving u behind
Looking ahead 4 the joy 
that the dear lord promise me
The peace that I've been longing 4
hoping 4
i can see the clouds clearing up
I see the rainbow
all the beautiful colors
they represent me
the new me
Now that your out ma life
         2 b continued............
                   One love 
                       Love Angel
God bless and keep.....


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Receive the Gift and Be the Gift

    

As Christmas brings us joy and peace this time of year,
   Keep your heart merry and filled with admiration and good cheer.
A simple and kind act here and there,
   Share your blessings with those who have less and cannot share.
Don’t be a Scrooge, don’t be unkind,
    Give of yourself, you’ll have peace of mind.
If you see a family in need somewhere,
    Give with your heart learn how to share.
Be a role model for all to see.
    Show the world how good giving can truly be.
Think of the elderly who already have gave so much.    
   All they now seek are a few kind words and maybe a tender touch.
The elderly are part of a pushed away society.
     As they no longer can function they lose all notoriety.
Forgiveness and kindness are the greatest gifts that we can give.
     They are life’s lessons that teach us how we all should live.
Pray for harmony throughout the land.
     Pray for God to send peace and for all to understand.
And don’t forget the real reason for this holiday.
    Thank the Lord for Jesus and the price He had to pay.
The birth of our Savior was chosen to be this day.
    Wise men came to Him from far away.
Bringing gifts they were laden down.
    Searching for baby Jesus in that far off town.
King of all Kings, Man of all Men,
    Forgiver of all our mortal sins.
Jesus is the Greatest Gift you can ever receive.
   And it’s free of charge to those who truly believe.


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Endless Tears

Families cry their endless tears, for today came reality of their greatest fear.
Another soldier has lost his/her life, serving their country, doing what they 
believed right.

So sad this day, for the loved ones left , but they must remember, his/her honor 
was kept.  It is so hard to understand, why battles are fought in distant lands.

As the families are waiting for their soldiers return, their grief and pain will always 
burn.

We must never forget all they gave, and honor their memory for the sacrifice they 
made.

God bless our soldiers wherever they are, and always remember what they are 
fighting for.

Freedom is not free, and never will be, and their memories should never be 
forgotten, from sea to sea.


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I Dream of Dances

A dance I’ll steal from this night
And move slowly with the moon
Stars will shine upon my feet
I will create a waltz for each one.

My arms move slowly, entrancingly
Hypnotizing sleepy watching eyes
Light sprinkles on my face from above
My bare feet glide across the breezy grass

A dance I’ll steal from this night
Sailing between each strong tree
Fireflies accompany my spellbound trance
Musical allusions fly alongside.

The flowers bloom acceptingly in the still of the night
Their quieted lights reveal the dreams of those asleep
Nuzzled in their nests as I drift below the leaves
Dancing in a daze, as I would in any sleep.

My feet skim a cool stream’s edge
Fresh water glittering on my lively legs
A skip across the small blue belt 
The constitution of the forest
Winding from end to end.

A dance I’ve stolen from the night
In a forest of breathtaking captivities 
Each shining star a kindly ovation 
To my dreamy wander.


Details | Narrative | |

UNSTOPPABLE FRENZY

The outcome of a deserved victory
picks up momentum
with an unstoppable frenzy,
but some call it delirium;
and who can stop the human spirit
in moments of unimpeding grit?

Unity grips the rampant imagination...
to set oneself free of all predjudice
by speaking words of liberty
and declaring, without shame,
one's undeniable ethnicity;
one can understand their jubilation
by joining them if it were their own...
to find this mood impeccably imperative!

Let the unstoppable frenzy
identify yourself and be proud;
take on, for only a brief time,
the frantic looks of invincibility...
never depress the exploding emotions, 
because they attest to the circumstances!

The desire to be recognized
for the strides and boldness...
reaches far beyond mere expectations;
expel the doubts,
rely on confidence...
be a brilliant lighthouse to humankind!