Don't hate her because she's beautiful
Or envy that she's hot
She is all about appearances
It consumes her every thought
Try to look a little closer
Past the makeup and the hair
Beauty has little value
If a person doesn't care
Looks are her priorities
She doesn't work on what's inside
People tell her she's beautiful
She gorges on her pride
She's an emotional anorexic
Soul food she refuses to eat
Her behavior reinforced
When people fall at her feet
She craves the admiration
The attention she receives
Pretty is her curse
In the end it's her disease
She becomes a caricature
Her illusion to maintain
Fighting the mirror and time
Over and over again
I appreciate a beautiful woman but the Beauty has to emanate from a much deeper place for me to truly appreciate it. The most beutiful women I have met have become more beautiful with each word they have spoken. We need to stop emphasizing the physical when we raise our children, we will then raise up a generation of truly beautiful people.
Since first I saw you, it was your eyes,
mesmerizing, your gaze transporting
me to a realm, not of fantasy, real,
where young men go when cupid’s
arrow takes root.
Since first I saw you, it was your lips,
captivating, holding me frozen
in anticipation of our lips brushing
for the first time.
Since first I saw you, it was your voice,
a crescendo, light, invigorating,
each word you speak intensifies
my hearing, enveloping each
note, time ceases as I hang motionless
Since first I saw you, it was your hair,
long, flowing, gently rising above
your shoulders as a slight breeze
passes through sending waves
of your essence my way.
The sun magnifying each strand,
highlighting the minute
variances of invigorating color,
creating a halo effect, a portrait of
your beauty forever imprinted.
Since first I saw you, It was you,
my love forever more for you,
Globally, miners jubilantly jump for joy
Smiles on the faces of every girl and boy
The grins of a newly opened Xmas toy
Trade unionists bounce along the street
Music blaring and the tapping of feet
From nurses to Bobbies still on the beat
Street parties announced in the nation
Satan who brought economic inflation
Is deceased, now’s the time for elation
Its times like this I’m sad I’m an atheist
And can only shout and wave my fist
And then go to the pub and get pissed
Sometimes my poetry is just a case of words,
and not necessarily my reality;
and that’s what is so beautiful about writing
You can be who you want to be on any level
and tell secrets about fantasies that may never be;
or take trips to other dimensions on mental journeys, or places that some don’t even think exist
They mimic thoughts that manifest themselves as poetry
and rest on pages patiently waiting to adhere
My words are a reflection of my heart
and they reveal the truth behind my mask of fear
they deliver reality doses whether they are just cases,
or me in the absolute right here
My words exude positive intentions;
my imperfections apparent but I accepted rejections
and reversed dejection
and decided to bare all my fantasies, my flaws my very soul
Uncertain how voiced verses appeal to outside sources but internally they set me free
They provide a medium of light and creativity
A chance to apply knowledge and a time for reflecting on and making changes in my frequency
My words are attached to my soul and its overwhelming ability to just be
They reflect what I was before
the choices I’ve made and the reasons that this life is perfect
according to divine order
They represent the voices of my ancestors from the beginning of time
because up until now,
the ending wasn’t within reach so I make sure that I
carefully choose the format and the right place and time
to deliver the message that may be blatant or hidden inside –
of the abstract placements of verbs
giving praise to the source of power that calmly submits to the voice
connected to my words
I am the originator of my own words
I hope that you are inspired, or simply entertained
by the process by which I've placed my words
"Would you have sex with me?" I asked the woman adorned in her dress of fine lace.
She approached and proceeded to smack me right across my face.
I saw another beautiful woman and asked her the very same thing,
which resulted in my getting smacked across my face again.
Over and over I asked many beautiful women the very same question,
and over and over the result for me was always the same.
I was then approached by a gentleman who then did ask,
"What are you, some sort of sick and deranged masochist?"
"No," I replied, "I'm an optimist.
It only takes one to answer Yes."
A puzzle piece you are to me
Like a vine without any leaves.
Your heart is pure your soul is
Gold, the sweetest thing I'll
ever hold! A miracle in my eyes
it seemed, knowing they said
no babies for me! Always a
surprise you seem to be just
like a puzzle piece! At 9 months
you walked but not until 4 did
you first talk! Always a terror
making a beautiful mess always
a surprise that has yet to be
met! The twists and turns I
know we will see will seem
somewhat like a roller coaster
to me! The milestones and
special gifts you bring will make
my life seem Like a dream, my
special boy I have always said
How special I knew not till
Aspergers they said! The
journey will be trying the
journey will seem long! But
with our family together we will
chug along! My special boy I
love you so and cannot wait to
see you mature and grow! Now
we have a goal we have our
dream you see to make you the
perfect fitting puzzle piece!!
Written by: Christina Kirks
McCullouch 04/05/2012 For
Jonathan S McCullouch Jr
Mommy loves you to eternity
and beyond! Forever and
“There is a time for each season…
To everything made…
There is a divine reason.
A time for purpose under
the heavens above…
A time for meaning from a God of love.
A time to be born. A time to die…
A time to farm the ground
under the beautiful sky.
A time to kill. A time to heal...
A time to tear down and
to build up with a passion and zeal
A time for weeping. A time for laughing…
A time to mourn. A time for dancing.
A time to keep...
A time to throw away.
A time to tear. A time to make amends today.
A time to get. A time for losing…
A time to keep. And to give
away at our choosing.
A time for silence. A time to speak…
A time for each hour
and day of the week.
A time for love. A time for hate…
A time for war. A time for peace at your gate.
How will you spend the time
God has given to you?
What is your choice? What will you do???
May this be a time living in
God’s purpose and design.
He created you and made
everything beautiful in his time!
By Jim Pemberton 05/22/10
Read Eccl. 3:1-11
I was just trying to remember the past
trying to remember the good people
and the bad people,
that i came across on my way,
i want you to know
that you are among the good people
that left a good trace in my life,
once again i just want to say thank you
for passing through my life,
is so short but is wonderful
i want you here forever.
The signs started in December
When she started waking up in tears each night
She was a normal girl with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes
She had plenty of friends and a loving family with just one thing missing
Days passed by and turned into weeks but only felt like a few seconds
Her life just whizzed by faster and faster until it was just a whirr in front of her eyes
Darkness filtered into her heart and mind until she didn't know if she could go on
But she had to. She couldn't let her mother and her sister drown in this same pain
She wouldn't let them.
She pushed all the darkness into the depths of her own heart
In hopes to save the hearts of the two people she had left
Because what else was there to live for now?
The rest of her world had crashed and her mother and sister was all that was left
She wouldn't let them drown in pain too.
She watched as they started to heal in her loving arms
Their hearts started to lighten up once more
But hers was just as dark as it was before
And growing darker day by day
But she wouldn't let that stop her.
Suddenly a year had passed... and then two
It only seemed like seconds to her but everyone else started moving on
Her mother and sister no longer needed her nurturing care
But she needed someone to hold on to
With nothing left for her to take control of, the dark pushed past her boundries
It found a way into her soul
Until all she could see was dark and no light
But her mother and sister were healed now
They didn't understand
The tears came back and engulfed her soul
Bit by bit until she wasn't sure why she was still alive
The grief took over like knives
Piercing her skin over and over and over
It hurt so much.
She started to wonder what it'd look like to be dead
She could see him again if she was
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to endure this pain?
Wouldn't it be so much easier than having to live knowing she'd never see him again?
So she started to hate herself
All that negative energy was starting to take toll
Everyone around her was breathing while she suffocated more and more by the second
She wished she'd just choke already instead of living in constant pain
If no one would put her out of her misery, she'd have to do it herself
She couldn't see any light anymore
So she grabbed the pill bottle off the shelf and just hoped it wouldn't take long to die
Deep down she still had a spark of light, but she just couldn't find it
And now it was too late in her mind to change, to turn back and try to look deeper
She was done living.
That's when people started to notice that everything wasn't as peaceful as it seemed
They started to see how deeply depressed she had become
They wanted to help her see the light again before it was too late
So they sent her away to see doctors and to take pills to make everything better
It was a start.
She didn't see a change at first but suddenly she could think clearly
Maybe what they were doing was actually going to help her see the light again
Yes, she still wanted to die, but maybe that wasn't the only option anymore
They cared, and behind all their own problems they were trying to understand
They really were trying
Six months longer she would be treated and cared for
Until suddenly she was sent home from her treatment and care with a smile on her face
She had a new perspective
Someone had helped her ignite that spark in her heart until it was a glowing ember
She had been reborn
Sometimes you have to be able to experience the worst of it
To come back shining brighter than before
And if she had died that cold day in October, she wouldn't of ever seen the best of it
Or known that it would get better
and it did!
And she now sits at her laptop, with a smile on her face and warmth in her heart
It's never been an easy road and it won't ever be
But at least she knows she's lived through the worst
And it can only get better from here
So whenever she feels lonely or gets back into that dark spot again
She can look back on what she's learned and can read this poem
And remember that she survived the darkest depths of depression
And she will continue to survive it as long as she lives
Because she is stronger now than she ever was before ?
Judas betrayed Jesus’s whereabouts
End, was near
Son of God, knew this
Universe of the Son of the Divine Father, restored
Sins of man forgiven, Prince of our Universal domain, alive in the hearts of his children
The blind leading the blind, what is seen is how its heard
the thoughts that make the story are lost behind the words
do you see it as you view it, or take a deeper look
do you read into the narrative or judge the cover of the book
Is the figure cold and dirty, the shell of what he's made
or the unforgiven soul, that is waiting to be saved
does that body clad so poorly hold more than what is shown
or just another mannequin, that has reaped just what was sown
Did you spare a dollar this morning or was your vision blind
or was that lonesome beggar just in the shadows of your mind
you see that youth with his hooded clothes and jeans hung round his waist
could he be a high school scholar or does his style not suit your taste
That girl there, with the pushchair, yes she has a name
does she love the child she carried, or did she play a stupid game
And that solemn face behind the bars,the prisoner to his crime
Or the broken life held captive and the victim of a lie
That woman in the wheelchair, animated by expression
does she really have no hopes and dreams or are you too deaf to listen
that classy car, the modest tie, the briefcase at his side
is there a dark deceitful truth, buried deep beneath his pride
no life ahead with a dead end job, shovelling gruel from a grease filled tray
or the maturing child of a broken home, paying bills 'mum' couldn't pay
two babies need to find new homes, is it proof she couldn't cope
or could she not make the perfect life so instead she gave them hope
So they live on a rough estate, they're deviant thieving 'yobs'
and see their buttoned shirts and ties, they're private school 'snobs'
do you just see flecks of peeling paint, view this canvas as a whole
or define each stroke of the artists brush that reach right to the soul
If opportunity played a fairer game and made judgement realise
then possibility could do its part, allow wisdom to remove disguise
yet with judgement passed and truth unseen, realisation is unable
to protect our children and ourselves 'living under the weight of a label'
Earths people, it is time to wake up, the ‘Prince’ is alive!
Ascension available, access through your heart
Seek and you shall find!
Time is short, personally unite, connect as one
Rise to the occasion, celebrate the gift of life, bond, with ‘our lord Jesus’ and ‘our Universal Father in heaven, building a bridge, experiencing kinship, between human and spirit
***Happy Easter Everyone***
Words said, sung, written
Bred man's civilization.
Words made us human.
The Lord brought to me
a blessing in my life!
He's blessed me with such a wonderful wife!
Help me Lord to not be deceived
by other things I see…
May I continue to love the wife you gave to me!
Help me to give her my undivided attention!
And to give all of my love and affection!
In my her, may I daily seek her inner beauty!
And treat her like the finest diamond
- THE SEED
All dwell in the same abode
In the temple
where they are ripened
to be born -
Conditioned in holding tanks.
THE swishing of moving waters
conditioned in silence.
in holding tanks that were replicas
gentle memories from the world
where angles fluttered.
Imaginations are contagious
we all had the same dream
- The spirit-
- The seed
delivered unto the
vastness of judgement
no earthly peace.
When man has the gift
in spite of you,
You insult his dignity.
No peace on this plain-
naughtiness is too
of a word nice -
maybe babies are- the word
Strange, is better.
- The spirit-
- The seed
There is something about the lips -
(pictures I have seen)
of cherubs mouths.
But still we have not perished.
could not bear witness
to the same whatever.
someone is sick
caught some disease
came from poverty and
blossomed like a lily in a
where no pain dwells
where the well disciplined
are ushers in my temple.
The inner silence where -
No thoughts run ramped
My peace of mind-
my saving grace-
from the world i have to face.
The flute talks the
flute is my guide
I am still. Just still.
SILENCE RESIDES ...
creature be despised
- The spirit-nor
- his seed
Festered lament maddens me
Why must the despair of my heart’s desire
Truly enlighten me?
I rested among the sick and lame
And found myself no different from the rest
For a troubled mind holds endless poverty
Penniless regret marks as a sickness no doctor can prescribe
For the bottles of balm are empty
And medicinal hope grows angry
I derived my madness from creativity
Revealing the remains of my humanity
‘Cool off, child’, I heard a soft voice whisper
But can’t you see I live off the flame?
It asks for no nickel or dime!
But it seeks to destroy all the same
The small voice returns at times
And often my heart listens
But we all listen
And only believe in the inevitability of pain
I speak of the majority
Not of you
For you are blessed and beyond disgrace
You have a life—a beautiful face
And most of all, you are rich
With attributes I can only dream of
You are rich with life and purpose
Holding inscrutabilities I can only wish to understand
You lift me without touch or care
Disposing me from your treasures
Because though you meant no harm,
You are rich with blessing
And must remove all possible threats
So my festered lament
Remains an enlightenment
I can say I am rich in poverty
But you are forever rich
What hurts the most is knowing
I may be wrong about you
For you are so obscure in this mind
And as empty as I am I wish to be filled
In your richness
But we all are filled to the brim in the end
And sometimes I cannot distinguish the good from the bad
There is nothing I wish to discard
So I hoard in constant deficiency and despair
And I hoard the idea that you are beyond compare
That you are rich
And always will be richer
Than me—or he
Come and Go Chicago – Zamreen Zarook
Where are you going my lady?
Where are you from my sweetie?
What ever you ask my buddy,
You won’t get the paddy.
She became a liar,
Because of your chore,
Two questions that you murmur,
Master, don’t forget that you were the rear.
You became a sinner,
Without knowing what is inner,
Now you know the manner,
So, never to forget the dinner.
Cease to care for those questions,
Nothing you gain from the considerations,
Everyone has their own equations,
So,they do have their explanations.
I do not know?
for bruce springsteen...
it was a rain-swept monsoon day
way back then, so many moons away
when i felt the music strumming in my veins
setting me free like a runaway horse without any reins
you sang of simple truths,
your verse spoke to people just like me
in my lonely, wasted, and desolately quiet night
as you screamed out tragic human wrongs, and of everyone's plight
'bobby jean' spoke to me
of that girl down the street
glimpses of whom, we as innocents would furtively meet
and 'the river' that flowed through my ever-barren heart
led me down further roads of thunder
when slowly i finally learnt that the hardest part was fighting on
and never to surrender
to the hard-luck dreams that were born to run
while i danced in the dark
with memories vivid and stark
even as i whined like that dog who for forever lost his howling bark
and then a 'human touch' came along
and 'better days' seemed real, not just words in a song
and still you sang and swayed and spoke straight into my unseeing eyes
as gardens of secrets were opened, and as your fist punched the skies
in an anger that i too felt and in whose cauldron i too burned
as we saw murder get incorporated, while on its wobbly axis, our fragile world apathetically turned
and then suddenly i was told that i was all grown up
working on a highway of scattered ideals
and absolving myself by sprinkling some coins in a waiting cup
well, after all these years of walking along so many a thorny road
with an armour of your verse covering me, even as i hear them taunt me and even as they continue to goad
but now i can feel myself fading away, into the bleakness of this coming night
just like the ghost of that old tom joad...
I feel like I'm living someone elses life, a life in strife. I've been strong, but when will I belong. I feel so alone, but I'm doing ok on my own. I can't describe the pain, but I keep in mind every storm runs outa rain. I use to think our love was unbeatable, but really its unforgettable. Everyday I walk down memory lane, trying to ignore the pain. He crosses my mind everyday, when will all this go away. There's gotta be something more, my heart is becoming sore. My momma doesn't have to worry, because I'm not sorry. I know he made the mistake, and he's the reason I have this heartache. What we had, was bad. I shouldn't have let it go that far, your just another scar.
Step by step,
hand in hand,
I was always there for you.
Ups and downs,
lost and found,
I was always there for you.
Even though you never believed in us before,
and you chose the most hurtful way to slam the door,
I was always there for you.
You moved on quickly, never looked behind,
even though I smile today, it still hurts when I rewind.
Through happiness and pain,
every loss and every gain,
I have always been there for you.
The question still exists, the question about us,
my beautiful dreams went up in dust.
Now that you are here in front of me,
it brings back a rush of old memories.
You say hello, you said goodbye before,
I still believe that we could have had so much more.
Step by step,
hand in hand,
I will always be there for you.
through lows and highs,
till the day I die,
I will always be there for you.
Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama)
A funny little clown, a bright red nose.
Lots of make-up, and bright blue bows.
Children laughing, some fat and some thin.
Either dressed in new clothes or rags that are faded and dim.
Pretty white ponies with beautiful glittery saddles.
And again, those funny clowns are hitting eachother with paddles.
One clown keeps fallimg and pretending to cry.
The other is daydreaming and lets out a big sigh.
There are beautiful ladies whose costumes are rare.
And a man who scares the children by dressing up as a bear.
Fantasizing is a convienient thing, it keeps the shock low.
So the surprise about the real world won't be such a big blow.
"Surprised about what"? is what you ask next.
Its something you can't learn in a text.
You'll learn about life by the things you go through.
You'll learn about whats fake and about what is true.
You'll see that the clowns are still funny and have a red nose.
But then you'll see realize only money buys the ladies rare clothes.
That's also when you realize your clothes are faded and dim.
And you recognize how many times you've been beaten by him.
Yes, those clowns with paddles are at it again.
Funny. They are married and they're children number ten.
Thier children are scared and crying in bed.
Because thier big mean daddy made thier sweet mommy dead.
Diving deep, into the void, within
Washing, cleansing, myself clean
Trusting without expectation
Letting go of, what I am familiar with
Allowing the divine, infinite spirit to guide me
Teaching me how to live
Growing inside my heart and mind
Larger than my mind’s ego
As I consciously shed light, upon my self created burdens
Lighting up, my made up fears, my mind has believed, all these years
All the mistakes I have made, now become my greatest blessings
Showing me how to love, without attachment
Discovering, who I truly am
A spark of life
Fire in my belly
Giving what I have
Honouring, who I truly am
Loving you, in return
I do not know?
I stand, alone.
Scratching for my truths,
peeling away the veneer,
I stand, alone, before this
impregnable cliff so sheer.
Cocooned in my solitary shell,
wrenching a smile from a tear,
I stand, alone, a little odd,
and definitely quite queer.
I stand, alone.
They are not being marginalized again;
impostors disguising with bleached faces,
noses made up to fit up to other races,
hair fried and stretched in beautiful shame,
and tongues twisted and roasted in cultural chains -
Distinguished eye-sores of social disdain,
and heads bowed awkwardly in intellectual refrain.
Yes, we are the they;
the dislocated impostors,
the dying survivors,
the iron rusting at bay:
We are not being marginalized again,
else it would have now been the right time
to compose a cry
again, or a lamentation to be sung by a frightened race.
No, it’s not as you may think. No!
It’s not a harsh tone,
you should know.
For to change is like to crack a bone,
something like doing a deep probe.
And with apologies I could say again,
we are the dislocated impostors,
and it won’t be an insult or rail,
since I’m part of the they,
and I can’t insult myself, no gain.
And now is not the time of composing a cry or izobo
but the time of composing a koboko
to probe deep into our bones
and force the phobia of our culture-sense to die
to avail us of the dwarf-walking self and pride.
We need such, if you like, call it necessary insults
to repent and make necessary u-turns
and produce tides-turning results,
to escape the irreparable black-burns
of a trans-generational insult:
If you don’t produce results, you can’t refuse insults.
Yes, we are the dislocated impostors
disguising around with bleached faces,
hair fried and stretched in beautiful shame,
tongues twisted and roasted in cultural chains,
heads bowed awkwardly in intellectual refrain –
elites with bastard successors.
Bastardy provoking as it comes, let’s close our eyes
to swallow this only medicine-hope of the painful taste
of what we’ve made of ourselves –
a foul-odor name far from chaste,
well-earned reputation far from wise,
a history not worthy of bookshelves –
Rock-bottom cultural impostors.
and now we’ve abandoned ourselves
at the middle of nowhere,
freaks of foreign stuffs,
dislocated yet puffed up,
gasping for air,
like a fish cast out of water.
And every day we go to worship
at church or
or at juju shrine,
but to seek answers that won’t stress us,
that would massage us,
and lacerate us.
Not the answers that God would give,
that would exercise us.
But that which will make us feel comfortable
at the status-quot.
And as we strut back home
and see our family roofs leaking,
our family walls riddled,
our family fences cracked,
our family barns plundered
because we abandoned our cultural habitat,
and gasp helplessly in foreign habitat,
lost at the middle of nowhere,
then our neighbors point at the collapse,
but we shake our heads,
not because we know not what to do
but that we do not what we know
and know not what we are.
Hence we live in the baseless world called momentary,
enjoying away in the microcosm called survival,
far-removed from the promise called success,
like social bastards,
and political impostors.
And we were told
“look, your house is crumbling!”
“but we can still manage to eat, drink and feast.”
“besides, God says it’s well with us.”
izobo : a Nigerian word for sacrifices at roadsides, river sides e.t.c to appease the gods or to cast a spell.
koboko : a Nigerian word for a long whip made of leather/ the tail of an animal.
juju : a nigerian word for an idol.
I do not know?
A sweetly-scented, earthy rain-storm,
she came to me,
thunderously raging with raw emotion,
she came to me,
drenched in the essence of truth,
she came to me,
she touched a chord deep inside,
she strummed away all emptiness,
she came to me,
she comes to me,
a gentle presence filling my life,
she comes to me,
a healing spirit soothing all inner strife.
Big brown eyes and long brown hair
Shes so beautiful it isn't fair.
With every step she seems to glow
she's so pretty but she doesn't know...
High school jock with long strong legs
hes wasting his years drinking down kegs.
The beautiful girl stands near by
but she can't approach him she's far to shy...
Watching this girl for many years
scrawny boy with large round ears.
Big huge glasses that cover his eyes
want's to talk to the girl but hes far to wise...
Scrawny boy with the large round ears decides
hes going to overcome one of his fears
he walks up to the girl and asks her her name
just as the jock scores a goal that wins the game...
He tries again but she sends him away
she says she doesn't want to see him any day.
He walks away with his heart broken
shut down just after the moment he had spoken....
Beautiful boy with the golden skin
every girl want's to be with him.
After watching the jock break the beautiful girl's heart
all he could do was watch her fall apart....
Beautiful girl looks his way
This was what he'd wished for every day
but now many years later, looking back
he remembers himself the scrawny boy
and how she made his heart crack....
This is a message to give everyone a chance
don't judge people with a once over glance.
Treat everyone right because its the best thing to do
You'll live your life happy the whole way through.
To make a new experience,
once I thought to walk down my home,
from Esplanade to Tollygaunge…..
I crossed the Chowrungee
& walked down the foot of the Grand,
I saw an oldman to his daily daydreams',
eyes to the heaven - and hands to the earth,
leaning there to the marble pillar beside the Bata-showroom.
I crossed him and hundreds passed by,
thousands looked at him
and rest, running to the new market's new brand.
Little further I went…
infront of the Indian Museum,
there I saw a woman, with her child in the warmth of her arms,
sitting there crying for her life and praying for her child,
but, none looked down to the present,
rather, eager to know the legends,
and hundreds came out by the history;
rest were still in the museum,
in the future through the time machine.
I went on, walking down by the foot,
crossed the road and further a two minutes of walk,
as I headed to the Victoria Memorial Hall-
the beautiful marble palace and its calm surrounding,
there the couples making their day, and ,
one making a sketch of that beautiful marble architecture,
but, none could make a sketch of that little baby's heart…
who's clothings were only his naked body,
crying for little shelter and thirst for mother's breast milk.
He was born to make a new life,
and he's lying there for someone could sketch his lost life.
I realized then ,
what I thought of an experience to walk down to my home,
from Esplanade to Tollygaunge,
is an experience to make a sketch….
of the real life,
I do not know?
when are you beautiful when youre makeup and hair is place
when the size of youre wrist is the size of waist
when youve tried everything to be chanaged about youreself to fit in the famous phase .
when youre close minded, and negartive
dead rather then alive ?
when are we beautiful
when youre completely torn apart , including that fragile thing called a heart
when you have no where to lay youre head at night but you still find something beautiful about that sunrise
you still find that reason to get up and enjoy your
unplanned ,undecided, complicated, unlovable. wish i could fix one thing, soon gunna end unremarkable ,incredible ,perfect, still exsiting the time is ticking life
when are we beautiful?
when we can say we been through hurricanes, tornadoes , homless , verbal, mental, and physical abuse have asked the questions whats the use ?
without the makeup
without the pumps
without the sneakers
without the millions of dollars
without the mansion
because we all know with all that coverd on us appearance isnt everything we can end up knowing some ugly people
.when are we beautiful ?
I do not know?
a hollow shell
of tangled synapses
sparked into gradual madness
which drowns out the truths of the day
as the mind reeks of the rotten sad moments
that swirl in the rancid soup of forgotten dreams
dreams that once traced a gentle path of innocence
dreams that reached for pure love’s tender touch
dreams now paralysed but once vivaciously alive
what became of those fresh dreams and hopes
as they lie mustily on dusty bookshelves
torn into shreds by time’s fine scimitar
devoid of the touch of raw passion
when all that remains of love is
a hollow shell
I love Southwest Florida and I feel privileged to live here in Paradise. One of the
things I enjoy most about living here is being able to walk year round in beautiful
parks and nature preserves. One of my favorite places is Eco Park where it is so
lovely and peaceful. Whenever I hear a twig snap, or leaves rustling, I turn in
delightful anticipation of seeing something wonderful, a mother fox and her
kittens, a family of raccoons, or perhaps a beautiful bird...but the other day I
watched the news before my walk, and the program focused on the increasing
violence against women and children around the world. It so distressed me that
the solace and peace I sought on my walk for the first time completely eluded
me. At every rustle, my stomach leapt, at every sound, my body tensed, my heart
pounded, and finally I had to turn around and go home. I had lost my sense of
peace and security in life and I felt desolate.
Now I don’t know the answer to the problems of the world, but what I do know is
that what humanity is currently doing isn’t working. It doesn’t take a great genius
to see this. Everywhere we look around the world we can see that what we are
doing isn’t working, and Denial ain’t a river in Egypt folks. What I also know is
that Scientists have mapped the human genome and have found that each and
every last one of us on this earth can trace our origins back roughly forty
thousand years or so to a tribe in eastern Africa. That’s right, every single last
one of us all came from the same place. We all have the same base of origin.
We’re all made of the exact same stuff. We all may look different but we’re really
not. We are the family of mankind. Humanity is all in the same boat, and if some
of us are sinking, all of us are sinking.
Hey you with the sad face
Don’t feel sad with disgrace,
Yes I realized
By the look in your eyes,
If someone hurt you …
or made you wanna run and hide
Don’t let that be a reason to go and lose your pride,
I see your real spirit shining true
I see your heart and that’s why I love you,
So don’t be afraid to let them know
Even when you have nothing to show,
You have a true heart in every way
Which makes you beautiful in any day,
Deep in your eyes your heart is shown
I hope you never feel depressed and all alone,
I know what you think you need is a friend
Which I will be until the end,
But what you need is that thing that stayed with you and never left
All you need is God and yourself.
Unheard cheers and tender sweet tears
Will help you wash away all your unsettled fears.
You are beautiful dont you cry
Free yourself so that you can fly.
You have to show your great charms to us
You have that I know
You give that grin
And all I can see is the world light up
You share that to us
You have that in you
The inexplicable, irresistible, inescapable delightfulness
Pizzazz, magnetism, charisma
You have it
I do not know?
Ludwig & Vincent...
‘They said that you were mad, Vincent’, whispered Ludwig to a silent Vincent.
‘I still am, quite insane’, replied Vincent, ‘but you, dear Ludwig, you were deaf, and mad, I hear’.
‘I listened with my soul, Vincent, I heard it all without hearing a sound. Yes, mad and deaf indeed I too, still am’, Ludwig said, smiling at Vincent.
‘just look at them now’, Vincent replied, smiling with Ludwig, ‘look at them now, as they hawk sunflowers, blissfully oblivious of exquisite starry nights’.
‘yes’, smiled Ludwig, ‘look at them now, they crave joy, yet they cannot hear an ode, dear Vincent, they cannot hear it! They do not care enough to hear’.
‘Yes, dear Ludwig’, Vincent sighed, ‘they do not care enough to hear’.
Ludwig and Vincent smiled, each tugging an ear.
As I Look At God’s Beauty…
As I look at this world and
the beauty God has created…
His beautiful handiwork
is not debated!
As I marvel at the majestic mountains…
I see beautiful lakes, rivers and fountains!
As I gaze up into the
beauty of the stars…
I say to myself; “God.”
“What a wonder you are!”
Everything on this earth
is a sight to behold.
A testimony of God’s awesomeness,
as I’ve been told!
As I read the Bible,
I was able to find.
When God created Adam and Eve…
He had YOU in mind!
God has a plan for us!
We are his creation!
He freely offers to all,
mercy and salvation!
Let’s bring honor to God.
Where honor is due!
And tell our creator;
“God, I sure LOVE YOU!”
He’s given to all of us
the opportunity to live.
He patiently waits with
a new life to give!
Won’t you come to him,
and listen to his voice?
Giving your life to God…
Is always the best choice!
By Jim Pemberton
There's this girl inside of me,
Who wants to see someone else.
She holds this all inside
And now, she's going to let it out.
The way I feel now, is not real. And I want something real.
(Yea) I need this other version of me
Right now; all I see is going to be left away.
This beautiful wake-up call Is how I will wall into the better
A beautiful wake-up call is what I need.
I know I feel different now.
All I know, is how in the world,
I could be this other girl
Who's not what I want to be.
No...I won't give up on myself.
The way I feel now, is real. And I don't want anything other than this.
(Yea) I know I'm quiet.
'Cause I'm shy.
I'm independent too.
I just want something more
A beautiful. A Beautiful wake-up call.
A New Friend
April 13, 2011
I felt as if I was crazed
For I was totally amazed
That I have a new friend
I know she will be there till the end
And for her I am writing this
Our relationship will not go amiss
She looks so fine
Like a sweet tasting young wine
To me her eyes are such a blue
They have the most beautiful hue
Should you dare?
Run your fingers through that beautiful long hair
For what I write
Comes straight from with in my heart
And when it takes flight
The words flow from the very start
My poems all follow a story
Always have their glory
Life is always quite so sublime
But our poetic words and phrases will last the tests of Time
I do not know?
Walk with me,
in this lonely world,
where hearts are casually broken,
and kind words rarely spoken.
Take my hand,
on this highway of brittle glass,
where love is traded like blue-chip shares,
and bank-balances are coveted as priceless wares.
Smile with me,
as we walk hand in hand,
as the ocean tickles our toes on the cool beach sand.
Smile with me,
and I shall smile too,
we may not have much,
but you will have all of me,
and I will have all of you.
Mirror, mirror on the wall, Katrina is the most beautiful of all. Katrina is the mistress
of the glass moon. Hurricane Katrina moves like a great Olympian ice skater, performing
the triple axle. She swirled death and destruction across the New Orleans Delta.
The eyes of Katrina unveiled an unjust poverty that smells like a dead corpse buried
beneath the foundation of our democracy. How can a Christian Nation who preaches God's
Word be so cruel to his follow man? We are all God's children.
Americans of African descent sacrificed their blood, sweat and tears, in building the
richest nation in the world. People of Color never received equal compensation for their
slave labor. They never received the promised 40 acres and a mule.
Lord, why is justice so blind? Where is the home of the brave? Justice falls helpless to
her knees and the glowing light from her touch cannot find the land of the free. Still, at
night, we see the burning stars and the stripes, and all we are asking for is God’s love
America the beautiful, unveiled her torn garment to the world. Meanwhile, the local
newspapers spin fiction into facts. They know how to weave sensational headlines and
photographs for public consumption. Nobody heard the children crying, during the genocide
America the beautiful, the world is watching. America, the beautiful, the world is
waiting. America, the beautiful, the world is listening. The world of humanity will
deliver justice to America, and she will be judge by her deeds.
Remember, a divided nation cannot stand on broken promises or broken dreams. History
whispered a secret that all great nations must have great falls. America, America, who is
the most beautiful of all?
A face among a sea of faces stares at me
Cold and numb the face looks tired
Waiting for absolution from closed ears
A tattered uniform of devastation
Eyes, eyes that see into eternity
Genderless and weeping into silence.
It hurts to look upon truth
Surrounded in self-glorifying patriotism
They are the true heroes
Burdened with a remembrance they long to forget
A tattooed number, their name.
In vain they bleed for retribution.
My heart breaks into a thousand shards
And so many tears long to comprehend
But could not.
There is nothing to compare such peril to
A shroud of ignorance and tyranny
Shaking my head, a thought so incomprehensible
Reality for them.
Can’t shake that picture from the foreground
Oh, so many bodies, what did they do?
No respect, no reflection on their crimes surely
What, I ask, what could they have done
So suffer the innocent for another’s evil
Surely someone question’s the final solution…
But no one did.
My heart dies a thousand deaths
They look to us, pitiful, no other so needy
No act so disgusting, a betrayal of the human heart
So beautiful their faces, so beautiful
Standing in a bare state, starring into history
They record their suffering in black and white
Burning images into a pure white film
A dark, terrifying image, terrifying
Never to comprehend what massacre they partake of
So beautiful their faces, so beautiful
I will never forget what I could never comprehend.
I will never forget.
How beautiful is our God...
And I shall praise him greatly!
His presence has blessed me
and filled my life completely,
In Mt. Zion, he's to be praised...
in the beauty of his holiness.
He's more than worthy of praise,
in his glory and righteousness.
The joy of the earth...
and beautiful is the situation...
To all of mankind... He's extended
mercy and salvation.
He is known in high places as a
God of refuge and shelter.
I will shout of his praise...
there's no reason to whisper.
He is our God, and forever
and ever, he shall reign.
He's is worthy of all praise...
that is due to his name!
He shall lead and guide me
from birth until death.
And his praise shall continually
be on my breath.
Thanks be to God for
everything he has done!
And thanks to him
for sending Jesus... HIS son!
He gives everlasting water
that never shall run dry.
It is no secret how much
he loves you and I!
By Jim Pemberton
Read Psalm 48: 1-4
I do not know?
Laws that are broken
Are taken into authority and spoken
To an official crowd
Which may not be kind
But will sometimes get you out of a bind
With two words, thoughts are dead
To believe the wrong
And we never rejoice in that beautiful song
That all love, but never hear
Everything will stop and nothing will start
Pain takes over and life begins
And it won't stop till life's sins
Are gone and life brings joy
Some people think like is a toy
Not care what they do in life
As they try to strife
Laws are still broken
And that token
Of life is taken away
Because we stray
Away from what's really there
People would dare
Not give their life up. Unless time was taken away and stomped on till death
When words are taken and scrambled around
Life beautiful sound
Turns to ashes and blows away
As if you were at a bay
And the sand was all gone
People awake at dawn
But with troubles in their heads
Because everyone dreads
The sun in their eyes
And until someone dies
We realize how precious life is
Listen to the beat of your heart
And laws won't be broken, because you're smart
But smart is a word that can turn selfish
Like a fish
That strays away from its school because he thinks he can make it on his own
When the tone
Of your voice is high
Might come out
And everyone is in doubt
"I am black but comely ", it states in the Holy Scriptures
I am black but beautiful, so why can't people get the picture
she was darkened by the sun which shined upon her skin
she was a comely queen of the desert under the rule of King Solomon
she was the lover and consort of one of the world's wisest men
a black and beautiful sister proud from within
she was identified by many with a variety of different names
and she wore her blackness proudly, without any shame
her family was angry about the hue of her lovely face
they made her the keeper of the vineyard, attempting to hide her in place
she labored under the burden of her sun-darkened hue
It sounds like the same situation that Black Americans have gone through
we have struggled with the anger, the hatred and all the pain
we tend to wear our blackness like badges of shame
the word black has taken on a negative connotation
society has instilled in us that being black is a bad situation
black sheep, black magic, black Monday, black ball
black cat, dark horse, black ice, our down fall
I'm black and proud, a concept we need to embrace
I'm black and I'm proud, no longer ashamed of my race
God made me this color, God made me this beautiful dark shade
God made me in His image and I will gladly march in His parade
we need to stop all of the stressing
and just accept from God this blessing
don't get caught up in society's concepts and ideals
abide by the Word of God and the truth will be revealed
If you think big,, then you will grow
If you think wise, then you will know
If you think high, you will reach the top
If you think low, then your self-esteem will drop
we've been burdened, bruised, broken and blundering
always being short-shifted, scared, scrambling and stumbling
at some point we need to get out of our mental captivity
let go and let God give us a positive mentality
economically as a people we need to start moving ahead
be manufacturers and producers and stop buying instead
as a people, we will no longer accept the word "No"
society needs to understand that God is running this entire show
no longer in bondage, no longer to feel trapped
expanding our minds to new possibilities that have been untapped
no longer to think about anything that's not spirit-led
thinking in the positive with the thoughts in our heads
thinking only on those things where Father God has our backs
we're comely, we're beautiful, we're proud and we are black