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***
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
Words said, sung, written
Bred man's civilization.
Words made us human.
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
- 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
In Bangladesh most of the beautiful girls
Are raped by their fathers
The victims shed tears
In the darkness of night
Most of times they cannot protest
Their mouths are gagged
By their horrid shamefulness and unknown fears
These fathers are lascivious like animals and insects
They cannot control wild desires
Their daughters are like flowers
Beautiful, sweet-smelling, innocent and helpless
Many of them later become loose characters
Some of them become sex-workers
And others face unhappy married life ultimately
These girls think it would be better
If they were dead long before they were raped
Or their fathers buried them alive like the dark ages
When they were newborn
I have heard hundreds of such cases
And it makes me wonder how bad this society is
And how can we metamorphose
These human animals into real humans
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.
What makes you unique and Special, what makes you beautiful
Is it your eyes, your smile or the kind things you say and do for others
as that is just your special way to try to say the right words and make someones day.
Your gentle manner and sweet ways are an asset to you in all your days.
It is Your lovable personality that will bring you success and recieve the praise.
You are Special in all you do and that is the most beautiful quality that you can have in you, so
never stop doing what you do making someone happy when they are blue.
you are amazing and special Person with alot to give
and full of love to offer too. Always keep doing these things what you enjoy and love to do
and with a smile keep positive and make it all worth while.
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.
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.
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