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Narrative Hope Poems | Narrative Poems About Hope

These Narrative Hope poems are examples of Narrative poems about Hope. These are the best examples of Narrative Hope poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Exhuming The Essence

excavate my fervent soul
with your familiar hands
(determination gets you everywhere)
stripped down to just my skin
in this sultry summer night
moon shining provocative…..bright

entwined limbs in midnights swelter
architecture of  this flaming hanker
you must stoke this slow red simmer
I assure you that I blaze
with just the right erotic touch
                        I become a vixen 

trace those fingers down my spine
those lips a naked search
beyond the present sunset
to this hearts clandestine perch
(buried profound but beating)
inside a cave of safety
if you will only reach it
                   patience is a virtue

I am only just a slave
held captive by your binding
to  your Adonis body
I am helpless as a hostage….
my master….I await….trembling
                                   (vulnerable)
for that final surrender

you can render me helpless my love….
and leave me barely breathing…


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The Long-Suffering Wife

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

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

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

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


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


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Christmas Miracle in the Ghetto (Co-written with John Moses Freeman)

Peering at the radiating faces of happy families
So much joy emanates from well-to-do children’s sparkling eyes
Wish I could replace the grief, put smiles on the faces of my sons
Without a glimmer of hope even promises of warm meals would be lies

In the brown eyes of my sons, the same eyes their mother, my wife
Sadness the sacrifice, a courageous mother giving life
So great a zest for life she sacrificed to give her sons life
But now greed hath put her seed in peril and my world in strife

No “Help Wanted” signs in the windows of Main Street’s bustling stores
The aroma of fresh bread wafts tauntingly from the bakery
With my hands in pockets, finding not even loose change
Overcome with hunger and jealousy, should I resort to thievery? 

Mind reeling, contemplating abating moral principals
Suddenly appear familiar brown eyes amid face so dear
The image of deceased wife, Spanish born eyes filled with tears
Speaking, "Abe, the Lord is gracious, walk until head is clear"

I follow the light in her warm eyes reflecting in glass windows
They lead me down the road to a park at the end of town
Dressed in ragged clothing, a man sits with a smile of peace
Breathing white puffs in frigid air, this gentle soul sees my frown

The message is plain, as my fears begin to clear
There is a greater depth in a soul of love well kept
The night is far spent; I kissed the hand of this gentle man
He smiled sweetly and said, "Lift up heavy head from dread"
 
I look up to see sun glistening on snow-laden pine boughs
It’s here, Christmas Day, and I’ve left my children alone all night
An ache in my heart compels me to race quickly back through town
Breathlessly, I reach my porch unprepared for a welcome sight
 
Hearing laughter within, I smell, yams, turkey and ham
I open my door, on the floor, presents piled high as well
Laughing with glee, sons kiss me, sparkle of brown eyes I see
Sparkling brown eyes, of Spanish descent, love is evident
 
“From where in the world did all this come,” I ask my sons
“Beautiful lady with Spanish brown eyes, stopped at our door
She said a strange thing, as on the floor our gifts were lain,
‘Tell Abe keep the faith; a mother's love is stronger than the grave.’
Her hugs and kisses, will be greatly missed!  Who was she, Daddy?"


Thank you, Moses, for joining me and guiding me in this write.  Merry Christmas, dear 
friends!


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Pride of the Motherland

Riding an elephant
Down the narrow trail looking triumphant
Scanning the golden landscape
Like Hannibal with enemies in flight
Sight from a lofty height
King of the jungle moving
With lioness by his side

Climbing Mount Kilimanjaro
Guides by my side with packs on their backs
Some paths steep with rocks
Boots slipping below our tired feet
Beautiful birds in unison flight
Moving with terrestrial light
Stunning sunlight summit on the peak

Praying in an Ethiopian Church
Preserved in rocks built by humans’ hands 
Never touched by conquest plans
Protected from the invaders’ footsteps
Queen of Sheba and Solomon’s nest
Touched by Arch of the Covenant
Mary, Joseph, and Jesus once slept

Eating yam, sipping palm wine, and tasting milk
Freshly squeezed by experienced hands
Taste of life in the mosaic grassland
Sustaining and soul refreshing
Cradle of humankind adorning
Invaded for its gold, riches, and human capacity
Birth of life on earth with tenacity

Respecting its living and arduous journey
Essence of life once was and is again to come
Riding a camel across the hot Sahara sand
Once wet now dried, exported gold from Mali…
Treasures from the hearts of once African empires
That which was, is, and shall forever be
Africa the birthing Motherland
We still love and respect thee!

~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~

Seventh Place Winner
"African's Pride" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Adeleke Adeite
June 30, 2010

~~~~~~~*******~~~~~~~


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An Escape

Have some time to spare in-between a work schedule 
burning me from the inside, out.
Wasted too much time on the computer already,
my body aches from physical inactivity.

Thoughts are racing faster than the speed of light,
the routine of modern life is trying to cage in a free spirit-
a pen for a wild horse with boundless energy,
a strong kick and large teeth.

Haven't come down to this part of the bay for years.
Not sure why anymore?
Not too sure about anything right now.
Believed I was too young to be having these thoughts,
but here they come like a booming drum beat,
keeping time with the pounding of my heart,
but always just a little louder,
to remind me how this warning isn't about to depart.

The putrid stench of kelp and dead crabs
baking in the afternoon sun,
curls up my nostrils, awakening memories of childhood....
....the salt in the sea is the salt in my blood;
we have been one since conception.
The salty, deep green rot, smells like bliss to me,
compared with the scents of over-heated wires,
burnt coffee, and industrial-gray carpeting.

Sit down on a large chunk of driftwood.
The waves aren't crashing in their usual rhythmic crescendo,
but lapping quietly like chortling laughter.
The ocean is chuckling,
laughing at my insignificance
in comparison to its almost limitless horizon 
of cruel, cold water.

A familiar pungent aroma creeps my way-
the high citrus scent of bergamot
mixed with the sweet perfume of skunk.
Two young punks are hauling on some reefer
up the beach from where I am sitting.
Can hear their youthful, carefree chatter.
The last time I smoked weed, seems eons ago now.
The smell invokes the rebel still alive inside,
giving a glimpse of who I had once been-
eyes blazing red,
mind full of humble awe
flying high above the clouds like an eagle.

The shrill cries of gulls fighting over a starfish
breaks my stupor of reminiscence,
reminding me of the hungry ways of nature-
the hungry ways of mankind and money.
Damn! My stupid job awaits!

As I make my way back,
pant legs causing the sand grass 
to sigh in dry moans and whispers,
I make up my mind to visit 
this old stomping ground more often.
In fact, I might start coming out here
on all of my lunch breaks.
Out here, the wild horse has ample room to roam,
even if for only a few moments of escape-
an illusion of escape is far better
than having only stifled dreams
and no hope left at all-

feel much better already.


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Faces Along the Way

Life is but a winding road
Filled with faces along the way
Coming in and out of your life
Coloring your every day

Yet most spend just a moment
A fleeting glimpse before your eyes
They giveth not and taketh not
And cause you barely a rise

And some stay just a moment
Earning a thought upon your mind
Triggers for countless memories
These are the most common kind

And fewer still stay even longer
And commune with you a while
Leaving behind dearest memoirs
Of sweet tears or a special smile

And rarer still those faces grand
Building mansions in your soul
These are the faces of a lifetime
Whose virtue you do extol

And know that you simply are
A feature filled soiree
A portrait in collage 
Of the faces along the way


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---And the Angel Looked On

"I heard an angel speak last night and he said "write" - Elizabeth Barrett Browning 

"Remember..."
that was the last word he whispered before his eyes closed forever...
"Remember..."

I close my own eyes, bite my lower lip, 'til I taste tin, stone angel crying with me...
The wind sends chills through me, as the heavens threatened to weep
brown leaves skittering between my feet, seeking for shelter.
How I related to those leaves: dry...brittle...dead.

I look at the Angel that watches over him,imploring for answers, 
begging this Guardian to take pity on me, help me remember. 
She only looks at me, with tears in her eyes, her beautiful face
always looked enigmatic to me, for she was smiling...
and yet those tears hinted at sadness, 
seemingly reprimanding me with her look.
I bow my head in shame, and reach for her hands, 
but I only feel cold, hard stone...not unlike my heart

My throat catches, I can hardly breathe--
I loosen my grip, feeling it might burn this time
...from guilt, for forgetting...

I glance at her magnificent wings, and wished I had them, too,
if only to fly away, but my feet are stuck on the ground, 
with a heart buried in regret.

I whisper one word: "Sorry":spoken so softly, I think I only said it in my heart;
I say it louder, my body wracked with sobs, my heart bleeding crimson tears of anguish. 
I look at the Angel and notice something on her sash--
One pristine white feather lay there-a stark contrast to the moss covered stone.
I take the feather, notice wordings etched on the sash--and scraped off moss, 
Tennyson's words go straight to my heart...
" 'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all."

The memories come back like a flash flood, assaulting me, bringing me back to that day.
He told me he had an angel carved to be with him at his grave, 
since I, his angel, couldn't always be there for him. And that he understood, 
that it was okay. I shrugged it off, told him I love him forever.
I still do, that's why it shamed me that I also love another now.

Seeing those words, I felt such a sense of peace, like he was embracing me, 
smoothing out my hair like he used to, telling me it was all right. 
I blink back tears, and say "Thank you" this time...I hug the Angel and I felt warm.
Drizzle and sunlight bounced off each other as I walked away. 
I turn my head around to his grave
--and the Angel looked on with a smile.


Constance's Angels in Cemeteries contest
 June 18, 2011


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Love Never Ends

I wept upon the news deployed
For now within, exists a void
My heart has stopped, it’s turned about
For life with love is now without
Now cast away, the physical form
I await the fate, to be reborn

To one day greet you there, again
The Gates of Heaven then let us in
Hand in hand, we move ahead
As souls permit, though bodies’ dead
A smile to you I then will give
For past our deaths, I know we’ll live


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You

On my journey,
through this thing,
that we call our life,
I have taken so much for granted,
choosing wrong over right.

I have hurt so many people,
with the choices that I made,
not realizing,
the sacrifice,
they gave.

Then a voice whispered,
in my ear so tenderly,
you are my child,
take my hand,
I offer eternity.

With open eyes,
that once were blind,
and a heart,
so full of love,
I was saved, in the nick of time.

Sin is all around us,
and our Free Will,
shall be untouched,
but God offers forgiveness,
because He loves us that much.

Now my journey,
is headed somewhere,
I'm not spinning in my tracks,
God fixed my broken engine,
I will never go back.

Forward, and upward,
His word is leading me,
as I share,
what He gave,
words for all to see.

Thank You Dear Jesus,
I speak these words so true,
for the cross that You died on,
freed my soul,
so one day, I'd be with You.


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When I Cry

Majestic illusions, dwell in my mind,
my special place that is only mine.

Filled with miracles, given through love,
my little heaven , when life gets tough.

A voyage I take, no one else is here,
I feel no sadness, I feel no fear.

The quietness, and serenity of an ocean voice,
waves coming softly, the air so moist.

Peace all around, no hassle of life,
my safe Haven of refugee, whenever I cry.


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When The Bottle Lets You Down

 
Can I ask a question of you my friend?
   Have you started drinking from the bottle again?
You look so down it’s clear to see.
   What you really need is to be set free.
The answer to your problems they won’t be found.
   Coming from that bottle you just put down.
You don’t bend your elbow you bend your knees
   Trust me just once He’ll hear your pleas.
You’re hurting so, I can feel your pain.
   There’s a way out, and it’s so very plain.
I was where you’re at not long ago.
   But I had someone who wouldn’t let go. 
Now I want to be that someone that you can turn to.
   Help to guide your path and the things you do.
Are you really proud of your life thus far?
   Drowning your sorrows in some dim lit bar.
How many times were you too drunk to care?
   Well I can relate, yeah I’ve been there.
You thought you lost it all, that’s just not true.
   If you trust in Jesus I guarantee you, He’ll lead you through.
We all make excuses for the things we do.
   He’s heard every excuse there is a million times or two.
Quit trying to blame Him, He didn’t put you there.
   You know I’m right, But you just don’t care.
Listen little bud, you’re like a son to me.
   I care for you very much, I just want you to see.
I know I led you wrong for many, many years.
   Now you’re carrying all my demons and most of my fears.
I know you care for me a lot, that’s very plain to see.
   Now turn it over to Our Savior, let Him be the one to set you free.
                   


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WALK A MILE IN HER SHOES

I tried to walk a mile in her shoes, 
fit my toes harder to feel her pride. 
I wasn't ready for what I've found. 
A wounded soul, a bleeding heart.

I tried to walk gorgeously in her shoes. 
And feel ashamed to witness those bruises. 
She concealed underneath her clothes, 
A misery of being abused and used. 

Along the road she speaks softly, 
Then her tears started to fall. 
A courage she used to grasp, 
to tell a story never been told. 

At the end of our journey I came to know, 
this pair of shoes I tried to own, 
was broken once in empty room. 
No hands to care, no one gives hope. 

I gave my best to polish once more, 
give it a glance like 'twas before. 
Although it's hard and takes some time. 
Soon each piece will be formed. 

Now, I see an image of a woman. 
Standing glamorously in her shoes. 
With pride and honor she firmly holds, 
A new beginning, miles to walk.  
 


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You're Still With Me

Rushing  to your bedside,
cars blurred, people passed me by
yet I still looked for a sign
to know you would be all right
but I only felt God's tears on my cheeks that day

You just lay there,
the fire in you set to low
and I could not see your bright smile
but your heart still beat, ever so strong
and I felt God’s arms embrace me that day

For seven days you held on,
a day for each of us 
even then you were so thoughtful...
you could not speak, but we still heard you breathe
then I heard God whisper to me that day…

As I left with papa to buy your mattress
to soothe your aching sores
I heard His voice say, “Go back and kiss him,”
“This just may be your last.”
And true enough, it was.

We left you there still breathing,
not on your own though, but still
Then that dreaded phone call...
No more need to buy that mattress,
your heart had already gone still

A part of my heart will always be numb,
and I shall never be the same again
a certain twinkle in my eye won’t shine anymore,
it died as you took your final breath
but my smile, how thankful I am I have a hint of yours...

Tears still flow from my soul you know
for all my mistakes, for my version of coping
I am just so sorry, I hope you have forgiven me
and I still hope to feel your embrace once more
when I reach Heaven’s door someday...

It may only be in dreams that I truly see you,
only in prayer do we speak
You are here no more and yet I feel you,
inside my heart, the depths of my soul…
Alive






** this is about the last image of seeing my only brother alive...
he was diagnosed with a brain tumor the size of a tennis ball 
5 months prior to his seizure which led to a 7-day coma, 
which he finally succumbed to, 
just 2 days before I turned 23...he was 32...

** originally wrote this for Frank's Images contest- 
thanks Frank for coming up with this, 
it's helped me to write and share this... 
please say a prayer for Raphael, my brother--thank you...

** submitting this as well for HG's Personify a Tear contest

--nikko palmario


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Adult Child of an Alcoholic

Your face and rotting teeth and heavy jowls
         and sunken breasts with bulging waist and
         wooden legs
         betray
Your image of laughter, lovemaking, seeking
         bourbon tweaked philosophies
         of life begins
         at  forty.
The hands that tremble as you tilt
         the glass that begins another
         day of
Tirade thoughts, empty lies, money spent on
         lipstick coated leeches who prey on
         your diminishing
         breath.

Through these wintry days pass faces long past
         into what was then
              while with the coming spring ...
                       at last!  at last!
One can remember
         and want no more 
              what could never be:
                      a Mother.


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BUYING LIFE

  BUYING LIFE                                              

                                                   
This is how 
She got the job
To pay the rent
That man did drink
The rent to house
To house the kids
That man did want
The kids 
That cried
Throughout the night 

This is how 
She crashed the car
To get to job
To help the man
The man who drank
To pay the rent
To house the kids 
That man did want
The kids
 That cried 
Throughout the night

This is how
The babe was born
Before its time
When car did crash
To get to job
To help the man
The man that drank
To pay the rent
To house the kids
That man did want
The kids 
That cried
Throughout the night

This is how
The babe 
Did die
Before its time
From crash in car
To get to job
To help the man
Who drank the rent
To house the babes 
The man did want
The babes 
That cried
Throughout the night

This is how
She packed the kids
To leave the man
That drank the rent
The rent to house
To house the kids
That man did want
The kids
 That cried
Throughout the night

This is how
She lived in peace
Without a man
And got a job
And bought a house
To house the babes
That she did want
The babes
That
Slept
Throughout 
The 
Night. 


Victoria Anderson-Throop


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The Story of the Door

Part One- Reality

The door is closing
I’m loath to close it
And yet….and yet
I feel….I must
Close it gently
Close is surely
Close it….SLOWLY
Oh, so very slowly
Hoping against hope

Part Two- Fantasy

How I long to fling it open
And dash outside
Grab your retreating frame
And pull you inside
Eager to show you
The wonders I’ve prepared
The love decorations I’ve hung
Perhaps if you could see
With your own eyes
My little and cozy heart
The warm fire that continually burns
The bed that I’ve prepared and perfumed
The food…delicacies for your tongue
Treats bursting with flavors 
You’ve never tasted before
Sweet dainty desserts for when
The night has turned to day
And we arise hungry
Searching for what will sustain us
For our next expenditure
Of passion tinged energy
From which we never tire
Perhaps then
You'd come inside 
My heart kingdom

Here, you reign
In this kingdom
All is under your command
My soul and body
Yours to do with as you wish
Without asking
Without demanding
For I belong to you
And I know you well
Aware of what will please
When to appease
When to placate
And when to tease…

I serve you with tender hand
Longing to satisfy you
So you will never want to leave
To make you dream contented dreams
As you sleep soundly
On the soft silken pillows
Of my body
And awake to dream again
For life is but “A Dream within a Dream”

Part 3- Back to Reality

No, your figure continues to retreat
My voice does not reach you
My tears fall unnoticed
This door of my heart
Must close forever
I will bolt it too
For I cannot bear the thought
Of letting another in
Only you
Only you…

I sigh behind the door
Looking at the bed
That will not hear
My moans and cries of ecstasy
Nor your contended sighs
A bed that will never hold
Our entwined bodies
Tossing and turning
Finely tuned to the rhythm of delight
A bed that will never feel
Hands that clutch at its silken sheets
Desperate to hold on…a little longer
In that pulsating world of blinding light

Part 4- The Final Act

I lean with all my strength against the door
To close it “forevermore”
And yet…
There is resistance
It will not close
Frustrated, with tears spilling down
Threatening to turn into a deluge
I fling the door open
Only to look at a massive chest
My eyes travel up to your face
And those beautiful eyes
My source of delight
Your hand reaches out
And wipes away tears
My breath catches in my throat
As I hear your mellow voice speak
“Won’t you invite me in?”

Part 5- Yes, the happy ever after! 

Eileen Manassian Ghali


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African Child

" From the debt of my heart"

The African child
Sat behind the bamboo fence
He was sober and tense
Sputtering and wondering.
He forsook the bush meat
And the gathering under the moonlight
For sobriety and the causes of his uncertainties.
His clothes were like dried leaves
His feet like openings in the eaves
He longed to see a brighter tomorrow
He clarified the causes of his sorrow;
Sins of the father,
Fighting not to make things better
Therefore darkening the weather,
Making his destiny falter and bitter.
Tears exuded from the sound of his flute,
His fears enlarged like a parachute
But one thing he never understood,
Watch and pray, oh! African root
For your foundation is stinky, filthy,
Faulty and guilty...... watch and pray.



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Before the Rain Sets In

“You may say that I’m a dreamer”,
With bold presumption in my youth
Beyond school age, but hardly saged
Turned loose, we hoped to use our wits to change the world…
And thought we would…and thought we could…
We declared to fight, what seemed so right
Those days as we leaned so hard against the wind

The plight of man’s predicament on earth, we mused
The breeze just caught our spouted words
And tossed them where it would
We feared our crystal world would splinter
Would shatter without our spin... 
"Never knowing who to cling to, when the rain set in”

But that was then…
So naively in such innocence
Thinking we could see a world at peace
Hoping to make our dreams come alive
From thoughts we shaped on winsome days
Imagining, ….if you please
"It doesn't have to be that way!"

And now with logic’s eyes, I do remember
How changeless is a planet
Glimmering in search of answers
And still not wringing answers from the slightest sound
And words we spoke, with vigorous shape 
Our hopes expressed, still looks for guidance…
Are uttered yet, by other voices…
“My words like silent raindrops fell, 
                    and echoed in the wells of silence”






Lyrics From  John Lennon “Beatles”
                    Elton John
                    Jim Croce’
                    Simon and Garfunkle

For Chris Matt's ---'Contest Favorite Songs and Lyrics'


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A Country Of Addictions

In a country of addictions,
where we are trapped,
trying to find daylight,
and a safe way out.

Many are forgotten,
they are sent away,
when a little compassion,
could pave a new way.

Some can be saved,
by an outstretched hand,
if someone believes,
they can.

Addictions can manifest,
in many ways,
drugs, alcohol, greed,
some bad choices made.

We can't play politics,
with peoples lives,
provide them the tools,
so they can fly.

The time is now,
to turn things around,
give them our voice,
provide a safe ground.

This is my prayer,
may God soften our hearts,
give us understanding,
this is where rehab starts.


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America, Why Did You Stray?

America, why did you stray from the old way.
A constitution put forth, the foundation of our land,
barely recognizable what was originally Jefferson's hand.
Tarnished and smudged by misinterpretation,
overindulgence and greed, to satisfy political,
judicial, and journalistic need.
Once majority rule, now bordering on ridicule,
the law of the land, ever changing, meeting demands,
of whoever takes a stand.

America, why did you stray, parents unable to discipline,
fear children undisciplined now rule, school in chaos,
students unruly, guaranteed to pass, unprepared for their future,
parents unsure, wish for the past, hope the next generation,
won't be like the last.

America, why did you stray, streets used to be a place to play,
neighbors knew one another, socialized every day,
doors left unlocked, nothing to fear, families stayed close,
helped one another, took care of mother.

Now drugs rule the day, hate and crime more common than play,
multiple locks symbolic of today, rarely talk to a stranger,
living in fear; life no longer precious, taken away,
day after day, the bloody count rises, a country in crisis,
victims pay, guilty appeal, courts give them the best deal.
Nobody protests for victims rights, put a murderer to death,
they scream all night.

America, why did you stray, hatred and bigotry alive 
and well today, nationalities split, long for the old way,
when an American, was just an American, now hyphenation,
the accepted way.

America, why did you stray, once an industrial giant
you gave it away, too high a standard for industry to pay,
moved out of country, the new American way, unemployment,
poverty, homelessness rapidly increasing, ruined lives,
while billions are spent on so called allies.

America, why did you stray, what's written today,
barely address the wrongs building every day,
religion is accepted, God is not,
country divided, politically split,
presidential bashing provides journalistic wit,
hatred and bigotry, live for it.

America why did you stray, new chapters every day,
really a damn shame.


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The Old Rugged Cross Suffered The Worlds Greatest Loss

 

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


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The Poetry of Hope

Every once in a while I lose myself
But I’m glad the dreams are coming back
I feel the thrill filling me
I feel my heartbeat rising
I see redemption rising in the days ahead
I still realise once again that I’ve earned another chance to begin anew
Still glad that it’s early in life
...and I can apply the lessons I’ve learnt before I’m twenty five

Phew! Boy, my heart’s beating fast
I shall no longer look at my past
For the past is just that
...opportunities gone with the wind, never to come back
I look towards the days ahead
I spend today to dream of the future I intend
For I know now tomorrow is bound to come
Today was but a dream ten years back
Had I realised then how soon today would come
I’d already be rich riding on the wings of independence
I pledge never to make that mistake again

Today I shall live like I plan
...and not like my neighbour Mr. Wright
For I know not how much he earns to spend the way he does
Today I shall not live like the society around me
For I don’t know whether they think ahead 
...of the days that are bound to be raining with storms of emergency
I pledge to live as befits me
I plan to live today in a way that enables me to save
For now I know I was right ten years ago
But I hadn’t the courage to follow a route of my own
Now I’m determined ten years to come...
I’ll be riding on the unicorn of delight

I pay no care for what those here and there may air
I wanna be happy today in my moderate ways
Knowing all too well I’m headed where
There, in the future where my heavy dreams will float in the air
I’m no hater so for the rest of the players here
I wish all the goodwill and good wishes my subconscious can air


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Under My Skin

Alone she sits at a table for two
In the corner bistro off Main
Cole Porter’s "I’ve Got You under My Skin"
Wafts softly throughout the room 
After hours of lingering hope 
She watches happy clients come and go
Bubbles of happiness fill their chatter
Laughter walks out trailing behind


Alone she sits and surveys the room
Even the wait staff now seems scarce
Time has vanished like steam in air
A waiter hints it is closing time
Table lights now give out a faint glow
Too much to bare, she decides to leave
But…O, how she loves him so! And though it's late
Still, she stalls… perhaps he will show up soon  

10/'09

For Brian Strand's Contest-A haiga to Edward Hopper's "Automat"


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The Willows

Tomorrow’s times are in these eyes of mine.
Away and far my world shall part.
The Seas shall rise from their depths of deep.
And in the glow of the shadows the willows will weep.
The Sun will rise as my days still come,
The glory, the power, it is the rains with Sun.
Tomorrow’s times are in these days of mine.
Far and gone my world shall bond.
The Mountains will fall from their heights they climb.
And in the glow of the shadows the willows will shine.
Tomorrow’s times are in these thoughts of mine.
Gone and here my world shall fear.
The Lands will separate the world by Sea,
And in the glow of the shadows the willows will be.
Tomorrow’s times I know are mine.
Here it is that I fear I’m near.
My Land, my Seas, my Mountains of plain sight,
And in the glow of the shadows the willows shall shed their light.

®Registered: Ann Rich 1998


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If You See

If you see a heartless man,
feel sorry for him.

With that cold heart,
comes lonely.

If you see a man without love,
pray for him,

with that empty home,
comes sadness.

If you see a happy man,
be happy with him,

for a happy man,
can spread joy.

If you see a man with religion,
follow his lead.

for a man of God,
is the best teacher we have.










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His Worth

Touched by His wisdom, 
my heart now clear,
upon His shoulders,
I cast my fears.
His word is genuine,
as was His birth,
the truth He spoke,
revealed His worth.
Riches, not important,
they mattered not,
but those that knew Him,
never forgot.
Kings were frightened,
of this kind, warm man,
they never listened,
how could they understand.
Then an Angel,
came in the night,
He arose from the grave,
can you imagine the sight.
His new home Heaven,
by His Fathers side,
waiting to welcome us,
this is the reason He died.
Now it is CHRISTmas,
and we rejoice His Birth,
but still some people, 
don't understand His worth.



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Good- Verses- Evil

   

What do you do when life throws you a misguided curve?
    You just keep on chugging, never losing nerve.
It’s easy to quit, give up, holler I’ve had enough.
    But just shake it off, get tough, show em you got the stuff.
Pity parties are for losers that will only sire defeat.
    Never stop trying even when better judgement says you’re beat.
If you’re not fully charged with a positive electrode,
    Then it won’t take much of a negative to drain your load.
Keep yourself charged with a positive upbeat,
    Then you’ll know why I say victory can taste so sweet.
No matter who you are there is always somebody that looks up to you.
    So be a role model, set good examples in all things that you do.
Your one fleeting moment of good may set the tone,
    To that someone that was watching, that you may have never known.
Take it from someone who has been on both sides of the fence.
    A positive and good attitude is always your better defense.
Just have faith in knowing that tomorrow the sun will shine.
    Just in believing will give you a much greater peace of mind.

                                                                       


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Hope

When we give hope,
we give of our self,
something so special,
deep in the heart it is felt.

Prayer, and hope,
go hand in hand,
a miracle can be delivered,
across God's land.

People have needs,
some don't understand,
but God in Heaven,
turns His back on no man.

He gives us hope,
so we can carry on,
that ray of sunshine,
many of us have known.

With out prayer,
and with out hope,
life can be difficult,
and hard to cope.

God knew this,
so He provided a way,
to give us comfort,
on these trying days.


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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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Emotion

Went to the man who sells emotion
To buy anger, get sad free
He held up a cup of happy
Said he had a deal for me

Said “I know what you’re looking for
Too bad it can’t be found
Not enough forgiving
And a little too much sound

But I can give you something 
To help take of the edge
A little sour maybe
But it’ll pull you from the ledge

You see this one’s called happy
And some say it doesn’t exist
They say it lives in fairy tales 
But I’ll show you it’s no myth”

He gave me a drink of his potion
And the world began to fade
I saw only what I wanted
In the world my sub-conscious made

There was nothing there to choke me
Nothing there to bring me down
But a little too much forgiving 
And not quite enough sound

So I reeled back from my daydream
And said it’s not for me
I need my world of chaos
Not a blindfold dream


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No Fine Print

Into the book,
each name is placed,
a gift of God's,
amazing Grace.

Given to us,
with no fine print,
this was the reason,
His Son was sent.

We are His children,
in a world of sin,
He offers Salvation,
over, and over again.

The freewill given,
shall not be changed,
this is the reason,
for His book of names.


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Merry Christmas

She stood at her window,
looking out on the world,
alone this Christmas,
this frightened young girl.

The night had come,
without making a sound,
as the snow began falling,
lightly powdering the ground.

Only eighteen, 
when she said I Do,
her childhood sweetheart,
and their love so true.

Ready to see,
this world as one,
planning their first Christmas,
so much left undone.

Then one day,
that dreaded letter arrived,
orders to leave,
and she held it and cried.

When he came home,
he held her close,
trying to comfort her,
reminding her, why he had to go.

He told her softly,
I love you so,
but I am a soldier,
this is what I chose.

Decorate our tree,
in red, white, and blue,
and this time next year,
I'll be back home with you.

Merry Christmas to our Military,
their families, and friends.
We love you all,
and our prayers we send......


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DESTINED FOR GREATNESS

for such a time as this of political upheaval and economic uncertainty
how does anyone go about determining what is their God-given destiny?
what is our purpose in the grand scheme of God's desires?
what is it from us that the Lord Our God requires?

God gave each of us life for a reason
and will call upon each of us in due season
there will be some sacrificing and moving out of comfort zones
just remember that whatever God asks of you, you won't have to do it alone
for the battle is not just yours it also belongs to the Lord
and God won't let you write a check that you cannot afford

God will move you to a place and then give you an obstacle to overcome
but through Jesus you have the victory so consider the battle won
just trust in God to give you all that you will need
so that His set purpose for your life will come to seed

like Queen Esther, Harriet Tubman, Margaret Sanger and Rosa Parks
women destined for greatness who were beacons in society's dark
they did what was necessary for the greater good
to put the needs of others before their own as we all should
they stood up and confronted the so-called powers that be
in righteous indignation in order to save humanity

so let God position you where you'll prosper and be strong
and then use you as a vessel to make right a wrong
it might not make much sense to you and you might even disagree
but God knows what's best when it comes to determining your destiny

so just say yes to any and all that of you God does ask
and believe unconditionally that He'll equip you for the task
and as long as you remain resilient in your resolve
between you and God the situation will get solved

destined for greatness as mothers, mentors, lawyers or teachers
destined for greatness as activists, doctors, scientists or preachers
it matters not the capacity nor the career for you that God did choose
we're women destined for greatness and as children of God we cannot lose


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Miracles Do Happen

She looked in dismay at her mail today,
her bills are mounting, how will she pay?

Soon a mother to be, and unable to work,
thoughts of regret, for trusting that jerk.

Caught up in a moment, she let herself go,
her Prince Charming is here no more.

Only eighteen, and all alone in a small little place,
her mother told her, you are a disgrace.

Phone turned off, and soon the power,
frightened to death, I despise that coward.

All he wanted was a one night stand,
all she wanted was a loving man.

Now a baby to nurture, and care,
all she can do, is worry, and stare.

Maybe a couple that has a nice home,
will take my baby, and give her a good home.

A very nice lady at the office down the street,
notified the girl, I found just who you need.

A couple had tried for 10 long years,
but all they got was bills, and tears.

They want to meet you, if you are sincere,
they want you both, these people are so dear.

Rich in material things, they have so much,
but the warmness of a family, is out of their touch.

So pack your things, and I'll take you home,
this is the miracle, you prayed for, so long.



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The Key

Those raging waters caress my soul,
so many are here waiting, as His words unfold.

Hidden treasures that lie within,
silently manifest, again, and again.

Joyful faces unknown by miles,
suddenly familiar with their journeys trials.

Searchers of peace stand side by side,
awaiting an answer to simplify.

Graspers of riches, they have no rules,
much like a thief, taking all they can use.

Desperate is the path of a poor hungry man,
survival the key in every land.

Locked from the place where comfort dwells,
seeking refuge from the flooding swells.

Mountains so high they take your breath,
never to be climbed all by yourself.

The key to a good heart, was created with love,
understanding will be given from God above.

Those raging waters such a powerful thing,
all made possible from our Heavenly King.


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To What Do We Owe Thee?

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




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Upon A Gentle Breeze

As seeds spread new life,
to the corners of the world,
out there somewhere,
he is praying for that special
girl.
A season is not forever,
it lasts for only a while,
now dry those misty eyes,
and put on that hopeful smile.
Between the pages of a love that
has passed,
a faint little ember,
will bring a love,
that will last.
Hearts can't be made,
to go against their will,
when one tries,
then comes a barren chill.
Patience is a virtue,
such a difficult task,
and you are it's keeper,
if love is to last.
Open new windows,
let the seeds come to you,
upon a gentle breeze,
comes a love,
that will be true....


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A Baby Was Born

Marching as one, they rejoice His Birth,
children of Faith, know His worth.
Gathered in worship, separated by miles,
all know the meaning of His given Child.
Wise Men came far, to look upon His face,
the child of Mary, asleep on the hay.
Shepards in the fields, were told to rejoice,
voices from Heaven, told of this boy.
A star led the way, across many a mile,
followed by many, to see the Savior Child.
One cannot forget, how Christmas began,
a baby was born, and Jesus, He was named.


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The People's Voice

The people's choice, not the people's voice,
this is what I hear in a country so lost.
Who do we elect to stand for what's right,
how do we know they will, when they are out
of sight.
Ron said it best with his poem, "ReUnited,"
and he can count on me, to always, be right
beside him.
He touched on life, the war, and death,
and he tells America, don't be led.
God made us equal, at least in His eyes,
we never have to stand for deceit, and lies.
We can lie down, and take what we get,
or we can join hands, and stop this regret.
Silence means acceptance, and no one cares,
but how can we let them betray us, do we dare?
I'm with Ron, stand up for what is right,
polygraph them all, on T.V.  tonight.


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Blessed are the Ones

Blessed are the Ones,
Who follow in the footsteps of our Creator, living to spread His word
They find their way home when temptation has made them turn
Blessed are the Ones,
Who are always ready and willing to answer to the call
They keep us safe from harm as the darkness begins to fall
Blessed are the Ones,
Who save the lives of those whom had no hope left that they would live
They spend years preparing themselves just for the moments that they can give
Blessed are the Ones,
Who greet the less fortunate with open arms allowing them to see
That there are good people left, the world is not such an awful place to be
Blessed are the Ones,
Who give us hope and strength when the light is fading out
They fuel our faith and help to clear away our many doubts
Blessed are the Ones,
Who are never selfish, they are here to assist in anyway they can
They do good only because their hearts tell them to, no need to understand
Blessed are the Ones,
Who stand strong in the face of evil and never turn to walk away
With no fear at all of losing as they keep all the demons at bay
Blessed are the Ones,
Who teach us as we grow, giving us the knowledge needed to succeed
They show such patience and virtue as they take on this sometimes-arduous deed
Blessed are the Ones,
Who have strong moral values, so much honor and integrity
They show us the light at those times when we are not quite able to see
Blessed are,
The angels as they watch over us from the glorious heavens above
They have proven they earned their wings, as they offer us so much love


The End
By Greg P


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My Search for Me

Grey are the days that past by my eyes
and the nights are scary to see.
A pall clouds my vision each day I awake
which hinders my search for me.

Blank are the stares I see each day
when I look at the eyes in the glass.
Reflection of the one I’m trying to save
from this suffocating morass.

Lost I am as I travel the road
that I hope will lead me to salvation.
The forks in the road are far too many
and my heart pounds from palpitation.

Deep into my mind do I bring my search
as I desperately try to see.
Yet twisted and tangled my thoughts all seem
as I still keep up the search for me.

In the eyes of my child I do see a glimpse
of something that makes me believe,
in the hope that I have something to salvage
as much as my mind tries to deceive.

The hands of my friends reaching for me
to help though I don’t even ask,
tells me that I do have my good inside
and I shouldn’t take myself to task.

But as much as the signs and the help I receive
give me a glimpse of the person I know I be,
I have so much pain and confusion in the way
that it’s so very hard to find the real me.


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I Still Remember

My grandmother's words still echo in my mind,
"you can accomplish anything, if you have the time."

"You can build a mountain, if you have enough dirt,
and baby remember, everyone has to work."

"You can have babies, there's no talent in that,
but just remember, one day you may feel trapped."

"You can sing, with a voice so sweet,
but just remember, with fame comes much heat."

"You can run to the ends of the earth,
but just remember, you decide your worth."

"You can love anyone you choose,
but just remember, some don't play by the rules."

"You can do anything, it's all in your reach,
but just remember, grandmothers were made to teach."


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The ReUnited States of America

Dark clouds on the horizon the hour is quite late.
    As I ponder my destiny and wonder my fate.
The foundation of my life was set in soft sand.
    With no guidance from above where does one take a stand.
The pressures of life can be so unjust.
    That is why he is called Savior, in our lives He is a must.
The roads that we travel sometime seem to never end.
     Filled with pain and heartache around every bend.
We didn’t come with guarantees or promises of good things.
     We dictate most of what our tomorrows will bring.
God sat down certain rules all men should follow and keep.
     If we choose not to follow then don’t get mad at what you reap.
The baby boomers now we’re starting to learn.
     To pay for the keep we must get out there and earn.
We’ve let to many things get out of control.
     We’re not standing up to the task nor fulfilling our roles.
Where once there were heroes .
     Have they left us forever only God knows?
We’ve gotten our self into an unusual state.
     For what once was a given has been removed as of late.
We idly stand by as our lives they destroy.
      Are we really that blind or are we being just coy?
It’s time we reunite and set our priorities straight.  
     The ReUnited States of America shall be our new fate.
Democracy and freedom they all come with a price.
      When is death pretty, when is it nice?
That is why bravery and courage should be rewarded and shown.
      To all our brave children and the battles they’ve known.
Give them the credit no matter the cost.
     And pray for the families of the fallen and lost.
     
     


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Passers Of Pain

They are everywhere, these passers of pain;
you think they are your friend, but money is their game.

Little by little they ease themselves in, and always
bring misery, time and again.

They prey on the weak, they know the ones;
our fathers, mothers, daughters, and sons.

They are not concerned about anything, just the
money they get, for the misery they bring.

When you are hooked, "oh" they can tell, these friends
of misery, will land you in jail.

Take a long look at where you have been;
nothing accomposished  since you welcomed misery in.

Your family has now become your biggest enemy;
that's what they tell you, your friends of misery.

If you think for one minute that no one knows, just
look in the mirror at how misery shows.

You are the one that has to change; no one can do it for 
you, and you have everything to gain.

We all have choices we make everyday; the good and evil
that comes our way.

Get help, get clean, then get on with your life;
remember, read your bible, God is on your side.


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Alone

No one here. 
I am alone.
Totally,
Completely
And entirely
By myself.
Can you hear my loneliness?
The silence is disturbing…
It creates sound blasts in my eardrum
No spoken word
Laughter is distant
Thoughts of questioning 
Why this is so?
Can I cry a little?
Is that ok?
But then I see a shadow
In the corner of my left eye.
I turn and recognise the face
Through the glints of light
Shone onto their abstract expression.
They lift their arm slowly,
Obscured in the dark shadow, a
Bony finger extends.
They beckon me over
To sit with them.
To cradle them and relate with them.
So they can stroke my hair and tell
Me I’m all theirs.
I know them to be quite the jealous type
As I have sat with them before.
Their name tingles on my lips
In my mind I know
I should avoid them but I
Have been spotted.
I was visible to them.
They saw my need.
Because I was alone.
They saw.
I was open.
Like a deer by a brook. 
I don’t want self-pity 
To come over me.
But I would like company.
I would prefer a friend.
So I get up and leave
And walk away from the face I recognised,
Despite my loneliness.
I walk away, look back and see Depressions face.
He is angry. He wants me to sit and wallow.
But I got away.
I walk.


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Fact and Tale

Between the lines, of fact, and tale,
a persons life, we know not well.
Some insight we have, but not all the truth,
between the lines, read by me, and you.
A release of sort, in our words of rhyme,
our therapy to calm, when we feel like crying.
Days will come, and then they pass,
bringing sunshine, and shadows that last.
Thoughts rekindled from yesterdays mind,
reading the words written from a poet in time.
Miles between, separate our face,
but words of wisdom we daily trace.
Explore the words from everyone here,
although very far, they are always so near.


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Just for Me

In the past I remember how things were so simple
When I was little my cheeks had such cute dimples
Looking back I remember how sweet I was as a child
When I think again my heart told me I was so wild
Yet, in time my simple choices was revealed as true as anyone
The reason I was the way I am today, I did things, to get done
Finishing lots of my undone ideas was so incredibly hard
So I figure my heart and choices should never hold in no bard
I never thought I would learn heart aches and pain
With such under statement I did things for no gain
I was a child who held true to what he has learned
But as we got older those kinda perspective would get me burned
When I made up my mind that people was not kind
I led myself in a confusion that I was blind
In the past I do recall that seeing is believing
So I was the one who stood their with friends leaving
Alone, I felt I did not belong, I cherish each person who knew me
I got older too see how the world works it stung me like a bee
The feeling of tingling ran through my vain
My view of the world and people who knew me was stained
Now I know they are out for their selves with no kind feelings
Life I know is just a joke because of who I hung out with seeing
Today as I look at the world it is in such shambles and astray
And rather fallow everyone I just walk away


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Me, Myself, and I - (Part 1)

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


Me, Myself, and I...


“There are things that concern us,”
		Consensed my “Selves” in earnest
““We” fear that “I” have succumbed to delusion”

“And after careful deliberation
		It is with much hesitation
That we choose to delineate upon this confusion”


“Fact is your intuition
		Is riddled with superstition
And your judgment leaves much to be desired”

“So you leave us no recourse
		Don’t push us to use force”
It is then that the “I” was summarily fired


I exclaimed “By whose authority?” Response, “Rule of majority”
“The “Myself” and the “Me,” (forthwith the “We”), are experts in our field”

“And with much technique and time
		And some forays into the sublime
The nature of your malady will be revealed”


“So to keep yourself from having a fit
		Step back and just calm down a bit”
“We,” they said, “certainly have this under control”

“We swear this won’t hurt at all”
		Then I felt my inhibitions fall
Still I said a prayer to God that He keep my soul


You know, fact is I do feel off axis
		As evidenced by such parapraxis
As this prose that I, (or is it “Us”), seek to pen

And with my mind feeling numb
		I finally chose to succumb
And allow the “Me” and the “Myself” to begin


And then came questions in a flurry
		Answer, answer and please do hurry
Not one moment of respite did they give

They pushed and they prodded
		With every “T” crossed and “I” dotted
My mind felt like it had gone through a sieve


And all this psycho-analysis
		Is causing my mind paralysis
The questions, can you stop with the questions please

“Yes, oh yes indeed
		I do believe we have what we need
To make an attempt to identify your unknown neuroses”


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The Happiest Day Of My Life

The happiest day of my life, hmmmmm, let’s see
Would that be the day I met my true love, or
Would it be the day he returned to me 
You see, I am trying to reason this out 
Which of the days are more important 
Which holds more significance for me  
The day we met, made history sweet
The day he returned made my future bright
Let me tell you about the day we met
We were in church, on a blessed Sabbath Day
He was a visitor, I a regular member 
I sang like a nightingale, so he said
He was instantly drawn to me
But very shy he was
He tried to meet me, his friend as a front
I, not knowing my worth to him
Thought he was out for to play
So didn’t take him seriously
Even though my heart said I should
I made a fool of what was given by God
Thank God for second chances
I have gotten back what was intended
A chance of a life, with my only true love
The day he found me
Rekindle sweet memories
But this is the start of something new
New beginnings, new resolve, new me
New life, new us, new emotions
The past was the start
Today the restart
I was happy then
Today I am happier
So, I guess when he found me again
Was a very happy day 
The happiest day, however, will be
When we stand together, to say
I do
That will be, the happiest day of my life



For Carol Brown’s:  The Happiest Day Of My Life


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I am HIV - AIDS

I AM HIV/AIDS 

     
Saint Luke predicted me long time ago,
While the Book of Revelation warned you about me.
I am raging like a wild fire,
I am growling like a lion,
I have spotted you and I will pounce on you!
I am HIV/AIDS!

I attack people in all socio-economic and educational classes,
I cut across cultural and religious sects,
Graves and hospitals bear this testimony.
Despite significant medical accomplishments,
I remain incurable,
I am HIV/AIDS

From Africa to America, Australia to Asia and Artantica to Europe.
From  Cape Provinces to Limpopo and Mpumalanga to Kwa-Zulu / Natal.
From Bekkersdal to Grobblersdal and Makapanstad to Marabastad.
From Sun Valley to Sun City and  Mamelodi to Mametlhake. 
From Witlagte to Langlagte and  Suiwerskuil to Kromkuil.
I am reigning, I am HIV/AIDS.

Woe for the earth and for the sea,
Because I have descended in great anger to devour you!
I refer to you, who do not abstain,
I mean you there, who are not faithful,
And you here who do not condomise,
For I am HIV/AIDS.

Media has warned you,
Priests have preached at the top of their voices,
Politicians have cried loud,
Organizations and institutions have given you warnings,
But all these have come to naught,
Now I will kill you like flies, for I am HIV/AIDS

This is not news to you,
You will certainly catch me through unprotected sex,
Shared infected needles and syringes, contaminated blood,
And from an infected mother to her unborn child.
I then multiply in your blood, mercilessly attacking
Your defence system and leave you for the dead,
For I am HIV/AIDS.

You know this fully well;
You cannot catch me through
Sneezing, sharing toilet seats, coughing,
Or shaking hands with an infected person.
Behold, even if you are not infected,
You are affected by me, for I am HIV/AIDS.

Even though I am dreadful and mighty,
I will finally die and my heart is sore,
That will be when sense is finally knocked in your head,
That will be when you abstain from sex,
You remain faithful to your partner or condomise,
Remember, prevention is better than cure, for I am HIV/AIDS!                                                 




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Me, Myself, and I - (Part 2)

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


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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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

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


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


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

J. Scott Burns...


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White Buffalo

Legend or prophecy, one cannot understand
Beautiful woman, a warrior pure of heart 
A message to all who seek peace, love and harmony
Seven sacred ceremonies
Sweat Lodge, naming, healing, adoption, marriage
Vision Quest for communicating with Him
Sundance for the well being of people of all nations
Harmony and Spirituality restored in the fourth age
White, Yellow, Red and Black, mankind
North, South, East and West, nature
The re establishment of respect and honor
Miracle Moon, a gift from the Great Spirit
Her seventh blessing to all nations, Chief Hiawatha
The time has come for all nations
A connection to the Great Spirit 
Peace, love and harmony
If only we believe.

“I salute the light within your eyes where the whole
universe dwells. For when you are at the center within you
and I am at that place within me, we shall be one.”
---Chief Crazy Horse, Oglala Sioux


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The People Around Me

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

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

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

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

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


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The Shoe

He could be someone’s father
Or brother
Or friend.
He could be
The one to cure cancer,
The one who
Saves a child
From a burning building,
The one who
Sobers up
And leads
Others to
Do so as well.
But right now,
He’s a drunk
Who has probably
Spent all of his money
On booze,
The one
Who is ungrateful,
The one who
Won’t remember,
The one who will
Lose his life
Over a fallen shoe.
And you are the one
Who can save him.


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Crazy

My friends and I had midnight hide and seek
One had to stand by a tree and not peek
In my state of hiding great I was hard to find
My friends decided to just be unkind
They all got together and decided to hunt me down
I first hid in the river near my house and almost drown
When they walk close by me I silently move through the grass
It was very hard to see, but I crawled a long time and almost ran out of gas
Then I heard one say that they were going up and wait by the tree
I had an idea that made a way to make them see
A shadow that ran in the distance thinking that would be
I had my horse pull a little manikin to make them think it was me
My friends took their flashlight and shined it toward it
I thought I had them but one thing was clear they did not fall for it not a bit
They all laugh and started to call out my name
They all asked how the heck did you have time to pull that trick that was so lame
I did not answer so they kept on looking for me, but I was so quick 
Some of my friends started to get really mad and tick
I was a master of doing weird things they all knew what I can do
The night was still young and the grass was collecting dew
I decided to make a distraction once again
To think of it, it would probably make the night end
My friends finally surrounded my tree house
I was quiet, so quiet, more than a mouse
I had some rope in the tree house to make my escape
To distract them I made a loud noise like an ape
The tree that my tree house was in was at least forty feet up
I had some stash in my tree house a drink or two in a cup
My final hour is about to end I did not want my friends to catch me till I got to the tree
I took the rope and tide it on a branch and pushed off and that was the key
I landed on the garage roof and sneaked my way to the tree
My friends knew me to well that they plan things before I could see
They had a fish net ready for me to step into
I thought that was kinda wise and some what like pew
The few feet by the tree there was two of my friends that was ready
Up in the tree they both jumped down and pulled me up in the net fast and steady
They thought they had won, the person had to tag me before I touch tree
She ended up having to get something to stand on to reach me
I swung my weight back and forth till I ended up touching and the game ended
My friends and I were so full of surprises and that is what the game handed


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Upon A Bed Of Petals

                                                        Upon A Bed of Petals
                                    The fragrance is so heavenly full of romance
                            With petals smooth and colorful it puts me into a trance
                                    The light shines upon the area of which they lay
                               With the oasis of beautiful smell I fall in a deep delay
                                    The aroma of sweet beauty comes a dream
                                With motion that reveal emotions with great steam

                                                        Upon A Bed Of Petals
                           Comes a well spent year with joyous laughter and self appeal
                                   With open arms we embrace the life that is surreal
                             Comes a time that we do have to dream with petals of life
                                         With occasional choices of passion and strife 
                                   Comes a venue of flowers of many beauty with value
                                      With another part of each season we stand true

                                                         Upon A Bed Of Petals
                                  The scent of life passes through and makes new
                                With loops that can be seen in an open sky so blue
                                   The wind takes one petal or two to show a trust
                          With to passionate people lying by the petals love is entrust
                                     The beauty is that the petal lasts in memory of
                              With two people passion with love rules true and above


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Survivor

You look over she has a smile 
But you don't realize the pain inside her
She laughs and plays til the day goes away 
Just a normal kid you would think 
But behind those laughs and smiles 
You wouldn't know she's a survivor 
From a disease that took everything but her spirit 
When people thought it was too late 
A miracle happen that day 
She made it through sitting in the hopsital room 
Behind those laughs and smiles 
You wouldn't know she's a survivor


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Healing Words

My mother, my grandmother before has always held a place in my heart.
My father, and my grandfather before has the same part.
I was young and very active with unwillingness to listen fully to what they had to say.
I had a problem, never could be solved without my parents and grandparents till today.
With patience they all come to my aid when I fall on my face.
With little dishonor I listen to them and what they had to say, I embrace.
Over the years I go to them with no doubt a feeling of no dismay.
Over the years I go to them and they help me solve problems that to me is O.K.
Now I am getting a bit more aware of what had happen to me when I was growing.
Now I remember how the ride was in my beginning: it was a trial of not knowing.
With the guided words of my parents and grandparents I survive through them all.
With it some being a problem that I remember I recall.
My mother and my grandmother always said to be patient and it will be easy to solve.
My father and my grandfather always knew that I would grow and evolve.
I could wonder everyday what if my parents and grandparents was not in my life.
I could just think that would be fatal like a stab with a knife.
With knowledge that they had past on to me of what they had experience.
With their proof of teachings they had past on to me is their self existence.
Over the years I grew with life so full of happiness that was because of my families love.
Over the years it showed me the path that led me to all the above.
Now cherish those words that help me through my troubles in my new family.
Now I listen to my parents healing words of wisdom and except them gladly.


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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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The Christmas Kiss

I was sitting in the crowded train station with time to waste, waiting on the train to take me home on Christmas Eve.  A very pretty, young lady, carrying a full backpack headed for one of the only open seats across the aisle from me next to a rather dirty and disheveled older man.

As she removed her backpack to sit down he glared up at her; she smiled a beautiful bright smile and said to him, “Merry Christmas”.

“I don’t celebrate Christmas”, he barked up at her.

“Yeah?  Well, that doesn’t mean you can’t be happy on the day that I celebrate Christmas.  And I hope the day is merry for you as well.”

“What is there to be merry about”, he moaned, “A bunch of hypocritical religious zealots pretending to be nice to one another while the world goes to hell in a hand basket.”

“Well, at least for that one day, most of us believe the hypocrisy, and even for just a few hours, we practice the morals that our religion tries to instill in us.  At least on that one day, for us religious zealots, there is a glimmer of hope that we can save the world from going to hell and, I, for one, believe that is reason to be merry.”

“Terrific!  And, what does that get me,” he whimpered.
	
“Well, what you get is this one time of year, when a twenty-two year old college girl is not afraid to sit next to you; smile at you; and, wish you a Merry Christmas.  And, if you just say, ‘Thank you’ and ‘Merry Christmas’ back to her, she just may give you the biggest and best kiss you have ever experienced.”

She stood back up and started to put her backpack back on as he simply stared up at her.  Once she was situated and ready to move on towards her train, she stopped; smiled at him again; and, said, “Merry Christmas.”

It seems I was not the only stranger that was witnessing this exchange.  All of those around me were perched on the edge of their seats waiting to see what might happen.  The old man cracked a little smile.  A glimmer came to his eyes, and he said, “Thank you.  And, Merry Christmas to you, too.”

The girl leaned down and planted a kiss right on his lips for what seemed like ten minutes.  Smiles lit up the faces of all the men, women and children watching this take place.  When the girl finally pulled back, the old man was frozen in place with a big ole smile on his face.  She adjusted her backpack and started heading towards the tracks.  All the men she passed on her way who witnessed this exchange anxiously yelled, “Merry Christmas” as she passed, hoping for a kiss as well.

I looked back at the old man who was still in a dream.  Suddenly he caught me looking at him and barked, “What are you staring at?”

I just shook my head back and forth and said, “Merry Christmas”.

“Yeah!  Well Merry Christmas to you, too” he shouted.


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A Land Bearing Green White Green

Which way leads to the 
land of green white 
green?
Which way are we 
heading?
   A country the wicked 
bears the rulership, and 
the people sighing 
continuously.
   A terrible thing sprouts 
beneath the sun: a 
pregnant woman 
delivering not.
Imps come to lime-light 
by snuffing air from the 
goose that laid the 
golden eggs.
The blind guiding the un
blind.
The weak suppressing 
the strong-a terrible 
thing.
Like the overthrow of the 
gods at Mt. Olympus by 
the Titans.
A country where also 
thieves appear as men of 
integrity.
Land of green white 
green,which way?
A land where the 
enlightened ones are 
overshadowed and 
peanuts given to them.
The masses are dogs that 
eat the crumbs.
 Which way to go you 
Land?
Iliterates stand on 
podium of power 
bellowing orders as milk 
of sorrow known as 
dividends of democracy 
is passed around.
The machine of progress 
manned by the 
unproductive.
"There is better 
tomorrow" we hear.
Land of green white 
green,my country 
where rule of law walk 
beside anarchy.
The proles are sentenced 
to adversity,and there 
endured death-like trials.
Chai! Aru! People 
dancing on thorns 
whimpering as they 
throng 
along.
  I see a new sun rising 
from the horizon,hope is 
rekindled as its rays 
grace on hopeless bodies.
 Look!! there soon be 
change!



Note: 
This 
is 
poem 
full 
of 
Nigeria 
political
 angst.


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The Morning Star

The Morning Star
By Nate Spears
                                
There’s clarity in the depths on my deepest thought
I’m never blind to a world of darkness
I’m challenged by whatever in time
Defeated by my ambition in others

Close to my last day
But far from my last night
And I’m light years away
From my very last fight
 
The actions of the man
Creates the path of his life
The absence of the man
Restrains his rights
The mentality of a man
Saves the day he's granted 
The intent of the man
Leads him the way the earth has planned it


 So feel my rose as it fades 
Feel my pedals bring a new days
As I sprout beyond the stars
To a galaxy that stands out
The route brings the creation to light
After the day 
After the night
After the darkness
After my arrival 
The morning is tainted
The day is seen in a human’s eye 
Sight has been sinful before and after
You and I
This is the heart filled reason
For the birth Christ.


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Mother

In her womb she carried her child nine months,
Bliss and joy he brought forth.
Satiate her a ray of hope in newborn eyes,
She bosomed her gracile in first cry;
Nurtured, fostered and fledged.
He grew up a young lad,
Belligerent and wasteful he turned;
Scathe her emotions and physical,
Never heed mother’s wist.
deplore her for damsel beauty,
Abandoned and ill he felt;
Whence mother’s forbearing love aided.
Spued blood for months,
And in no hope of survival;
Mother’s earnest prayer and supplication convalesced him.
Lackadaisical and Impenitent natured,
By and by he erst;
Wend the lady who abased him his manhood,
His love forsook,
His last days embodied in insobriety.
On the day of funeral oration,
Mother retold unchanging love for her child,
And tears that never dried,
Bid her son last adieu.
And lived the rest of her life bewailing,
Till one day her body gave away to ageing,
And died a mother whose love for her son
Never be bought by any gold or silver.


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My Angel

My Angel I prayed everyday Every moment I could I needed a partner or soul mate Well I really thought I would A real prince charming type Someone really true to love To replace all the loneliness Someone sent from above Instead He sent me an angel So handsome, gallant and kind Someone I could actually trust Better than I could ever find Not to be my soul mate Or even a boyfriend Just to be my angel A true God send To lift my spirits Helping with care Proving that he will Truly always be there My angel brings me comfort A true friend who has my back Like my prayers were answered Filling my void to remove the lack God gets the credit for sending my angel An angel wanting only kindness in return My angel was sent as a reward for good deeds For paying it forward, my angel I have earned I no longer worry about finding someone to love As I am treated special by my angel who is a gift This type of angel only comes once in a lifetime So blessings go to my angel for his spirits to lift Florence McMillian (Flo)


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Favorite Things

I awaken and commence to hear birds sing.
I return to thoughts of some favorite things.
Remembering the peace that they all bring,
I drift back as the cold wind stings.

Waves crashing down upon the beach,
Grasping for things, just out of reach.
I watch as rocks turn into sand,
So much I see I don’t understand.

Stars that twinkle bright in the night,
Appear as beacons, providing sight.
Journey through darkness, what is concealed?
I am still here and my fate isn’t sealed.

I drift back in time I dreamt I could fly.
Sunsets and sunrise grace the blue sky.
Taking a look from way up above,
I seem to remember all that I love.

Watching as brooks stumble over stones,
Cold winds still blow, reaching my bones.
I start to think about warmth by the fire,
What I need versus what I desire.

One more battle I almost won,
I return to moments spent in the sun.
Days that it seemed never would end,
I start to feel like my heart might mend.

All of a sudden I hear a favorite song,
My favorite things become what I long.
They seem to save me when I feel sad,
I remember more good times remain to be had.


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Teaching an Old Dog

All I remember is going into the garage to get the snow shovel.
 
I am not even sure how much of the driveway I managed to shovel.  Apparently, I was lying in the snow for several hours before one of the neighbors noticed me.

The next thing I remember is waking up from a deep sleep to the sounds of beeping machines with tubes and wires stuck into and on my body.

As I slowly regained consciousness and my eyes were able to focus, I was aware of a young, bald child looking down on me.

“Hi,” said the smiling, angelic face.  Given the child’s age and complete baldness, I could not tell whether they were a boy or a girl.  And, with the tube inserted in my throat and taped to my mouth, I was in no position to return their salutation.

I tried to remember who this child might be and why they were here with me.  I guess my eyes displayed my confusion as the child said, “I'm Elizabeth.  They let me walk around the hospital a little.  Sometimes I sneak out of the oncology wing and look for people who have no visitors.  I like to make sure someone is there when they wake up.  I know I always like to see someone when I wake up from my operations.”

She just stood above me smiling.  I then noticed she was holding my hand.

“Sometimes it is hard for family members or friends to come visit.  Some people just really don’t like hospitals.  And, I guess”, she said, “not everybody has someone that close to them.  So, I like to become their visitor for them.  I hope you don’t mind.”

I didn’t mind.  Although it did make me embarrassed to realize that I fit in the latter category; I didn’t have anybody that close to me.

She just smiled at me and petted my hand as the medications worked their magic on me and I started to drift back off to sleep.  I heard a nurse come into the room and say, “There you are, Honey.  You need to get back to your room now and leave this nice man be.”

The next time I regained consciousness, I noticed a hand drawn picture of a house with a Christmas tree out front with a note that said, “I hope you get home before Christmas” and was signed by Elizabeth.

Each new day, I was welcomed by another drawing of Christmas scenes; smiling faces; reindeer; and, starry skies.  All containing a happy note and all signed, ”Love, Elizabeth”.

After ten days of recovery and following the insertion of two stents into my heart, I was well enough to return to my empty home.  On my way out of the hospital, I stopped by the Oncology Wing to say good-bye and thank you to Elizabeth.  When I asked the nurse at the floor station where I could find Elizabeth, she replied, “Oh I'm sorry, Elizabeth is no longer with us.”

I then said, “Well can you tell me her home address or phone number, I would really like to thank her for visiting me in my hospital room this past week.”

The look on the nurse’s face indicated that I misunderstood what she had meant.  Elizabeth was no longer with us.

Sadly, I started walking towards the exit.

Just before I got to the elevator, I noticed an open door with a man lying on his bed, with tubes in his nose and throat and nobody else in the room with him.  I went into his room and sat in the empty chair.

When he opened his eyes two hours later, I said, “Hi, I'm Joe.  I noticed there was nobody here when you were brought back from your operation and I know how nice it is to see a smiling face when you wake up, so I thought I would sit here with you for a while.  I hope you don’t mind.”

He squeezed my hand; gave a slight smile; and, slowly drifted off back to sleep.


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Indefinite Love

I saw a young lady who was so perfect that she made my heart beat
I could not figure it out and now I really don't know I had to take a seat
She smiled like an angel in the heavens with glorious blinding teeth
She seems so kind and full of life and never put people beneath
I do not have a bad thought or a moment without any ease
I notice that because she pulled me up and smiled with a tease
She kept things close to her like my hand and my heart
She knew that I was just the man that gave her a good start
I never had a thought of leaving because of a fight
I will never part with her because she is my sight
She looks forward at all times and never looks back
She knows how I am if some one would hurt her I would attack
I will never leave her side with out her knowing she is safe and sound
I am the man of her dreams I will never let her down hard on any ground
She loves me with all her heart and I know this because she gives me the look
She knew how long I waited for her to notice me, I remember it was long time it took
I waited by her side when she was ill and could not walk 
I held her hand and made her smile when I told her I love her, when I talk
She noticed it in my voice the feelings with care
She never looked at me in a blank stare


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A Soul Awakened

The warm light calls me
And all the people who cries for thee
I raise my hand in this abyss
Only to make one wish
To float among the others
With all my sisters and brothers
I call out for forgiveness with passion
I take their pain into myself for this occasion
The moment that I see the sky
I will not look back and cry
My body is laying still
People standing by it with a chill
The air gets dense with sadness
I would not think of it less
Some people look up and down
To see the light hit the ground
Some can vision the uplifting feeling they see
One soul that has been and always be
It is special to notice such aberration 
And that might be how souls are awaken


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The Final Confessions II

These were my confessions
(A message to God)
The light begins to fade
(It’s time to go)
Back into the shadows
(That hard black fog)
Where darkness has its way
(God rest your soul)

Nothing left to tell you
(It’s all been said)
No more songs to write
(This silent Fall)
Nothing left to offer 
(The well’s been bled)
From a shadow’s waning life
(Who lost it all)

Take my words and hold them
(Don’t be afraid)
Place them near your heart
(And heal your pain)
Shadow words will kiss you
(And heal your pain)
When your world turns dark
(Don’t’ be afraid)

And I kiss you
Kiss you
I kiss you in the dark……..


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The Fog Rolls in

The fog rolls in surrounding me,
My hand before me, I barely see.
A heaviness as moisture clings to the air,
Ghost like shadows from trees that are bare.

I walk forward I don’t want to look back,
I grab a new card from off of the stack.
I think of it like turning over a new leaf,
I take a deep breath and hope for relief.

I turn the corner there are lights shining bright.
Blue lights resonate and glow in the night.
A Christmas tree lit, entirely in blue,
Like a beacon in the fog it shines right through.


The Christmas tree lights shine much like my hope,
I try to break free with some slack in the rope.
They bring a smile and fill me with content,
As the fog thickens the lights don’t relent.

They seem to glow within the fog,
I lose my bearing as I trip on a log.
I feel like a ghost upon a canvas of white, 
It all disappears within the confines of night.

I hear a bell from a church on the hill,
Its haunting sound from what was still.
It seems to call to me to just forge on.
All of a sudden the ringing is gone.

I stand in darkness just me and the fog,
Something awakens, memories it jogs.
I think of my journey and all I’ve been through,
What has been done and what’s left to do.

It hasn’t been easy though it’s not bad.
I have fond memories of great times I’ve had.
Still something’s missing as I look for the door,
I know it can’t be like it was once before.

The winds picks up, adds a chill to the air.
It awakens my senses so I really don’t care.
I stand at the threshold to the future and past.
I will simply step outside, the shadows it casts.


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GOODBYE MAMMA

Although you never knew it,my LOVE was always there;there were many who did tell you,I 
was a son who didn't care.But lifes a funny journey,some parts are good and bad;your 
passing without warning,has truly left me sad.I'll pray to God to give you,all the LOVE you 
hadn't here,lets hope we meet in HEAVEN......so I'll see you MOTHER Dear. ~ Princefreakasso

Your broken hearted son PRINCE!

Mother decided to die without saying goodbye,didn't give me the opportunity;to shed a single 
tear or cry. 

My mother passed away a short while back and I was too late for her funeral.Just got to put 
some flowers and light some candles at her grave.Let's hope the good Lord blesses and 
keeps her until we meet again.


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An Epistle To Our Daughter

   

Billie, there is not one person alive who has not sinned or made mistakes.
   And everyone in life sooner or later experiences heartaches.
No one is without fault, and it’s next to impossible to be perfect.
   We all have our little quirks, we each have our own little defect.
Being perfect is not what God is looking for, but to turn from sin and turn to Him.
   Learn to walk in His light, that is what will make you proper and prim.
You must follow Gods commandments and do not stray.
   And when you feel yourself slipping turn to Jesus and pray.
Let Him know what’s going on, and that you need His help again.
   Tell Him you are trying to turn your life around, one that’s free from sin.
Learn to put your trust in our Savior for that is what He is, Our Savior.
   When we know it’s wrong and we go right on ahead, there is a good chance 
this could be unforgivable behavior.
I personally cannot understand why someone would intentionally do wrong.
   Listen to your conscience, pray, and God will make you strong.
Bill, mom and dad have never stopped loving or caring about you, never will!
    This poem I wrote just for you to let you know just how we feel.
GOD LOVES YOU AND SO DO WE         MOM & DAD


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Even the Hurricane has a Heart

Violent, disastrous, ruthless, merciless
Such words come to mind when one thinks of a hurricane
Destroying anything and everything on its way
Paying no care to the efforts and time invested in that reality
Paying no care to the pain and adversity it leaves behind
Intent to proclaim its superiority at the highest possible cost

...But even a hurricane in all its angered fury
	...has a heart
...and a hurricane’s heart is usually so calm 
...unperturbed by what is going on around it
While its fury whirls around violently destroying
...right in the middle of it, the heart is calm and peaceful

Times will certainly come as rain is bound to drop
...when you will be faced by many challenges
...and it will be like a hurricane has descended on you
In such times, seek the heart of the hurricane
...be at the very centre of it, and you will be fine
...for even a hurricane obeys time
Soon it will exhaust its rage
...and it will be reduced to a mere breeze
	...incapable of harming even a twig

All troubles are seasonal
They may come with storms and thunder
...but soon they’ll be gone
...they’ll be reduced to mere references in the past

Don’t take troubles as personal
Just take them as the experiences of life from which you learn
Each of us must pass through that class
Question is... will you fail or will you pass the exams
The key to passing is tolerance, patience, and understanding

The greatest blessing in life is the MIND
The heart is always weak and irrational
...thus it cannot be trusted to bring happiness that lasts
Empower your mind and use it when in need
When trouble persists, there is only one place to exist
...Ahead in your dreams
Always think of tomorrow when it’ll all be gone
And you’ll own as many happy feelings as your heart will want
Never let your emotions tackle your problems
Always call onto the three minds that govern all life
Your Conscious Mind with which you think
Your Subconscious Mind which turns your thoughts and dreams into reality
And the Super Infinite Mind (God) that has no troubles of its own,
...and is always willing to help you triumph over yours
 
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Dedication to my dear friend Andrea
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


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Boat Of Poverty

Why this boat?
Could it be boat of destitution?
Conveying Epidemics, Hunger, Rags,
Malnutrition and Illiteracy.

Descend from me!
Banish from my world!
You cursed word!
You that called education a"Privilege"!
Patrimony of ghetto!

W.H.O called you "Lion of Africa",
U N called you "Agenda ".
Predicament to black,
Livelihood to white.

Harking to conviction,
Capsize and raise no more.
For "Black Rose" to smile again
On the land of plenty.


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The Woman In White

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

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


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My Story Telling Can You Trust Me

Gun fire all around, bombs going off in the distance
It was some of the angry mobs and resistance
Father was the king of SafeHaven a small kingdom
Like all other kingdoms it fell in random
Fire started in the castle
And along with it came a battle

It was a distance memory now because the child has now grew
Many things in this child that made memories stew
My name is Mastrey, a young orphan who was there that night
Mastrey saw her in the distance and her father and mother in his sight
Everyone was loud that night and made all the children hide
But that evening Mastrey saw her mother and father die

She ran into the bushes in such a fright
And evil doers were running around with flashlights
Mastrey remember it as he distracted them 
Her eyes was so confused with problems
Mastrey new that it was because of what just occurred
His feelings of what those people did was not awkward

The distraction worked, he went back to were she was
Hiding and very scared she was, he asked her, can you trust me just because?
Her answer that night depended on her lively hood
As Mastrey was their with his hand reaching out to her as he stood
Pulling her up from the ground he looked into her eyes that were SeaBlue
Mastrey had made a life long friend and love, She knew it was true

Next: My Story Telling,  Who is this Princess


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Perhaps Tomorrow

I close my eyes and hope perhaps tomorrow,
I can lose this pain and shed this sorrow.
All I have left is myself to forgive,
Pick up the pieces and learn how to live.

I left behind all the things I loved most.
But with the darkness they appear as ghosts.
I try to pretend it is only a lie,
I know in my heart I forgot how to try.

I know what is and what can’t be.
Yet in my mind I can still see.
All of the things just like before,
Then the wind blows and slams the door.

I start to feel trapped as the walls close in.
I know to escape I need only begin.
Take one step and leave it all behind,
Try to embrace the new things I find.

The sun rises and peeks through the windows,
The light chases away all of the shadows.
If I close my eyes will this all disappear?
Just bring me back to this place that I fear.

If not today, perhaps tomorrow,
Can I pay back all that I borrowed?
Suddenly I listen and hear a bird sing,
Inside these notes, peace it does bring.


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AN OUTCAST IN RENOWNED MANOR

In what ways should self-  help guide quod erat 
demostrandum?  An outcast in renowned manor, Hardly given a libate to quodlibets own very existence, And hasten to the fictitious lands of historic romance, Behind the fertility and its 
lucreous, In the ambience endowed with whole lots of nacreous , All worth in many of its returns, Went singeing about that waylayers songs, Like sheep without a shepherd, For that misconstrued word; Even so the local tribesmen; Yet could n’t owned up with terms, But to the unborn were made to borne, Shouldn't one put up symptom in quantum, Rhine wine they said made from grapes only grown in Rhine valium , For they have lost it; More than you could'd  desired it, To know revindications would  upon this days set in, Unto an evil courting, Should In spite of what it seemed, Sac’less in the heart of those we mewed; nothing about And Shall often times chew. All for the fat, the rag on our primogenitor infractions. Before own very machismo, When it becomes a trounce very unremitted to mankind. Should we bid at bay all in kind. or Liege to the cavalries jousting a day after it reveille on your rivalries.


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Physically and Mentally Abuse

I was born in a world of poverty and soiled life of a third world country
The way I lived till I was five years of age was walls of boundary
These walls had towers of guards that had no heart or care
If a child would try to climb the wall they lose their life I swear

Father had drank and threatened my mother with a knife
My father lost his job and wife and that was the hardship of life
He stopped my mother from taking off with me in her arm
Hoping that my father would ignore and left me be with no harm

When my father went off to drink one night and came home with rage
My brothers stood by my crib and took a beating that set up the next stage
My father had woken up to three scared children half starved and in pain
His final words as he walk away from the orphanage gate live life do not go insane

I was still a baby in the orphanage; the caretakers did not really care about the babies
They stole items and materials those wicked men and maternal evil ladies
They starved all the babies because it cost a lot to keep them alive
As a child of that age I could feel the sins and greed that gave out bad vibes

I was ignorant about what I drank and ate, as I see white maggots move in my bottle
As I see them move I thought about how they were playing and some were hostel
They ate each other to keep each other alive in a manner that took me by surprise
In the back round I hear others throwing things with sounds of painful cries

I got very strong at a young age I was able to start pulling myself up over the cage
My feelings were to see my brothers with strong lungs that I cried out of rage
My two brothers came to see me and sneak food into my crib
The caretaker would find the food in my hands as they grabbed it and hit me on my ribs

As painful as it was I kept eating the food with blood in my mouth as it was instinct
I sometimes laid in my crib dazed and confused with smell of death so distinct
With all my might I kept myself strong and climb the small wall
I finally was old enough to get out of the building and I could hear my brothers call

With tears of joy with short legs that ran as fast as my heart
I ran to my brothers arms and held their hands to have a new start
I grew stronger everyday but more things came into my life in a manner of dismay
If my brothers stay by my side I could smile and everyday their would be okay



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'Refracting Reflections'


REFRACTING REFLECTIONS 

"Imagine a lovely garden, tea for two, and this story . . . "

All the barriers broken down
Nothing left to shelter it, 
Her heart now exposed 

The first time in years
She has left it all bare,
Unlike all the other times
When the excuses piled up 
Before it even started

“Why would you do things differently, this time around? 

She looked at me, with a puzzled face

“I don’t know” was her reply
Maybe I need to see what will happen
If I let things be -

Not let my fears
 be my principle decision maker

just take the plunge,
I might find that little rainbows 
Lead to bigger things
Moments of happiness
Or even love
That has eluded me…

Maybe I am ready now
To embrace 
Not having control
Over my emotions
Whatever they might be - 

I looked at her, 
Holding back tears   

With just one wish,
That I would be as brave 
As her one day,

That the mirror image 
I see, be 
Reflective in me

Maybe that day is closer 
Then what you might think

The echo came - 

It may only be 
a breath away… 


Refracting Reflections
By Wilma N. Neels
Contest Name : I Fancy another Sad Poem
Date: 15/08/2011


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An Explorer in the Jungle of Dreams

If I hadn’t been born into poverty
I’d be rich relieving the fantasies of the wealthy
I wouldn’t be free to experience reality
For I’d be burdened with the inheritance to keep
I’d have a golden noose around my neck
...and whenever I’d wish by life to be swayed
I’d be reminded of the wobbly silver stool beneath my fragile feet
I’d have crystals for a floor
And I’d be afraid to jump to my heights 
...for the fear that I’d hit the diamond chandelier and make it fall
...and in its fall the crystal floor would be gone, 
...for into sharp tiny pieces it would deform
...promising to bleed anyone who dared it with his soles
I wouldn’t be able to run even if I tried
For the inherited name and fame of its wealth
...would be like rubber bands pulling me back and fast with each step I tried away

Now here I am, still in the realm of mediocre reality
But at least my heart pines for my chance to shine
...like a piece of gold in the dirt
For sure I will never again play pals with poverty
For the secret is I am a spy on mediocrity
My purpose here to be is to analyse the weakness of it
So that when I’ll launch my offensive against the beast
I’ll know the fatal areas to hit

The limitations thrust my way today
I’ll use to draw a map for the travellers of better days
I am an explorer in the jungle of dreams
If I don’t fulfil that which is vested by creation upon me 
The future generations will have no goals to see
And no route to follow to it even if somehow they see
Mine is to find the sure route to the state of glory
Through the jungle of dreams and difficulties
I must pave a path for the future to build into a highway
I have to arrive in time and set things right
I have to ensure that they learn to see the doors concealed in every wall

I have to rise and own it all
The silver, crystal and gold
The diamond has already seen so much blood flow
So of its keep I’ll let Mother Nature hold
But this wealth I dream to own
I shall use not to build the future a prison
I shall use it to build a fountain of inspiration
Something to remind them of their freedom
Something to them akin to good seed to sow
And not a bewitching find to hoard

Of my wealth I shall cast a timeless spell
That any and every who perceive of its blessings
Shall be possessed by the desire for better
And since better only comes out of endeared efforts
I shall rest assured of even greater success in their future


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Mother

I am alive today
Because of you.
Death has knocked at my door multitudes of times and you've been there to scare it away.
There is no one else that means as much to me as you do.
You may never read this nor ever know the Honest truth.
The peices of me that've been broken you've found a way to peice back together every time.
You taught me how to smile, to love and to cry.
You have fixed every broken heart every cut and bruise.
I love you more than you'll ever know.
When the pain is too much for me to explian you were my shoulder to cry on.
Whenthe darkness creeps in on me, you are my light that shines it all away.
Dear lady of peace you took me from a broken home and abuse, gave me reason to be happy and watched over me through everything. 
When I had given up and was letting go of my life you were there to keep my heart beating.
Deasperatly alone I've felt but you came through with a hand to hold.
No one understands me like you.
Please know that all the times you've helped me see, that this world isnt as cruel as i think, still sticks with me.
As I walk this road with the sun setting I can see you laughter in your eyes. The smile that touches you face. And i am content with life. All I want is for you to feel joy.
You may not be blood, but you are more than that. I love you more than you could ever know mom.
You will always be my Mom my best friend and the person i trust most.


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Before I Die I Want

Before I Die I Want….
Deep inside of me things have begun to stir. My hopes and dreams are mixing with 
my needs and desires. As feelings come to the surface suddenly my mind and body 
are taking on a life it seems all their own. Never before has such a sensation to fulfill 
what was once hidden demanded to  be made known. Now all that lies beneath 
waiting, longing to come alive bubbled forth.
It feels as though an unexpected force has entered my entire being pulling me, 
urging me on. Somewhere out there time and chance is going to come for me. Life is 
all too short at times so what do I do with what stirs right beneath the surface? Risk 
it all before I die for what I want!
I set my hope and dreams to the wind to carry forth. My wants and desires followed 
close behind. They whistled through the trees and brushed the mountain tops. The 
ocean waves carried them far away to places my eyes have never seen. The desert 
floor was sprinkled softly with each and everyone I whispered. The stars in the sky 
lit up with my secrets and scattered them near and far.
Now somehow they have been found out and are coming alive. I can feel it inside of 
me as now the demand to be filled has been sensed and demands to be satisfied. I 
spoke of hidden things only to have them set free. Dreams are private until spoken 
into the wind. Desire carries a scent that can’t go without stirring needs you 
whisper and only hope to fill. 
Before I die the things I whispered into the wind may come to be. I knew the risk of 
the whisper and that perhaps time and chance would take my secrets. These things 
have taken root and began to grow so strongly that not even I know if the risk of 
hopes, dreams, needs and desires will be fulfilled before I die.
                                                                                                           Debbie Knapp


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Key of Life

Life is filled with Hardships and Moments.
Ones we'll remember and some will forget.
It matters not how it happens or why.
But that we enjoy what life has to offer.
Even though the going does get tough,
and living isn't easy.
Success will be and continue to be
the Key to life.


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A letter from a Father to his Daughter

My dearest Cordellia, I miss you, so I thought I would send you a note
Telling you all that I have been going through and asking you to give me hope
I walk this dark and lonely road carrying all this pain
Wondering, were all these tears I have cried simply cried in vain
Using my heart and not my eyes to navigate the darkness in this place
The only thing that remains clear to me is the memory of your face
I have missed you since you have gone, I have to confront this on my own
Can not put into words this pain I feel it is something I have never known?
If it were not for all the love you poured into my heart
I would have no strength to keep myself from falling apart
You have left this life and have gone to where only the angels are permitted to soar
But the love I have for you has allowed me to open up another door
The love this father has for his daughter has consumed his very heart
And all these memories of you have allowed me to make a brand new start
Daddy’s little hiny, that was my name for you, because of your tiny baby butt
How you use to make me laugh, you were such a little nut
Cordellia Miriam, your name was as unique as you were
A piece of heaven on earth is what you were to me and that is for sure
I never knew that I was capable of feeling a love as strong as the love I felt for you
And now since you are gone I become confused at times for just what I should do
I could gain pleasure for hours just by sitting and watching you play
I would try to understand everything you had to say
So my sweet child I hope you can hear me when I speak to you each night
I hope that you are listening and I hope you understand my fight
This pain and love seem to be tearing each other apart, leaving me as a shell
I pray each night to God in hopes that you are doing well
I miss all the times you would run down the hall just to greet me
You would jump into my arms to give me a hug and tell me how much you missed me
Well my little one Daddy has to go for now but I shall certainly visit with you again
I will talk to you everyday until we shall meet again

The End
By Greg P


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I Have No Bucket List

I Have No Bucket List!
No hopes, No dreams, Nothing I want to do?
Life has shown me many things and taken me many places. Some have touched my 
heart so deeply that nothing can ever erase these memories from me. I have been 
blessed at times and cursed at others.
I have often wondered at my life and my choices. The path I choose for one reason 
or another would have me wonder of my sanity more times than not. I have spent 
many years crying in silent, desperate to be happy. I only wanted one thing in life 
and that was to be truly loved by someone; anyone just please love me!
I have had moments that gave me a glimmer of hope to have it snatched away from 
me. I have felt so special and beautiful just to be crushed and left wondering what 
happened, what is wrong with me? The moments of pure joy that has touched my 
heart has left a print so precious that I could carry on. I just knew that somehow 
love was out there and it would recognize me too!
What is a place but some where you go. What is a dream but another place and 
time? What are these things without any hope? I do not know what hope feels like 
anymore or dreams or even desire for life.
My bucket is empty except for the day to day things that carry me forward. My face 
smiles, my lips say that would be a dream come true, my heart always wants to give 
love and I make it through yet another day.

                                                                                              Debbie Knapp


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SHATTERING HOPES

My wrapper loose day after day
My motion and emotion unstable
I forget to think
But I wasn’t drunk

I remember in a trance
Stable I was 
My wrapper tight on my torso
Not divulging the firm breasts

I remember vividly when it began to loose
Days turned nights 
The sun withheld its radiance
I mourned unending

Breasts tumor I had
Oh! The pain hurts
One more ill has befallen me
A spinster at 50

Severally dumped I was
By men on trial
The life I live was wreaked
My heart fell apart

Picking up the fossils
Amidst courage and optimism
Dreadful incidence I traversed
Since my birth, early 60’s

Aargh! I’m bigoted
But utmost myopic
I wasn’t sleeping
Merely a spinster’s vision

When at 52
Men on trial returned
I had miscarriages
Pains were inflicted

53, I would be
The wrapper has slipped off
Revealing the sagging breasts
My legacy is gone


I’ve missed my menses
I’ve wept all day
I pled against miscarriage
But all hope is not lost
Because I’m pregnant!
																																	OMEBE RITA


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Grandmother

"A child, more than all other gifts
That earth can offer to declining man,
Brings hope with it, and forward-looking thoughts."

			W. Wordsworth
								

I am your grandmother.
I spent 24 years making
parenting mistakes, so I think
I'm pretty well trained now,
pretty worn down, open-minded
and accepting.
I think we'll be good friends.

At sixteen, your mother 
said she was having a baby 
and held up to me the blue pastic
device that tested her urine stream
like when she held up the blue ribbon
she won in kindergarten for the best
easter bunny nest made from marshmallows 
and dyed yellow coconut.

Then she threw the blue device out 
into the space between us on the bed, 
like it was the best card in her deck, 
her ace in the hole.
Your father waited in the other room
sitting in the thick silence,
afraid to breathe and miss
my response.

You and your mother did all the work,
but I was there at your birth, 
Standing alongside, coaching your
mother to good contractions until
I was exhausted from gritting my
teeth and pushing too.

And your dad was there, too,
but closer to the business end 
so he could be the first to know the sex.

 
An unsolicited psychic had told us
you would be a girl, 
and when your dad was told,
he sulked all day 
like it was a conspiracy 
between the women to produce 
only other woman.
He wanted another guy, 
someone to give the men the edge, 
a male child.

When your mother's body could 
keep you from the world no longer,
your head appeared, eyes tightly
shut and a pout on your lips.
Your dad was watching closely,  
the shoulder, the belly and then
his arms flew up in the air 
like he'd made the touchdown
and he cried, "It's a Boy, 
I told you, I told you,"
like he and I had placed a bet.

But then he saw how much
I could love the boy child.

I'm a pretty good grandmother, 
and I think we'll be good friends.


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That Kid I saw in Rio

That kid I saw in Rio,
I can’t forget him,
He hung on my arm, amidst overpriced, flashy hotels,
Past the nightclubs and dazzling neon lights,
That draws tourists like flies to a cottage porch light,
		  ……..
The mix of poor and rich, lined the corners and formed the scenery,
In a city of black and white, no shade of gray,
He was following me, but where did he stay?
Was it in the Favela?
His eyes told me it was far away from the twinkle of riches,
His voice spoke of urgent desperation,
Sir, sir, he said, with subtle hope and aspiration….
To see a kinder world, than the one he’s seen so far,
To hope for so much more, to reach up for the stars,
  . …….
Of all the versions of hello, I’ve singed into my mind,
Through all the coasts I’ve moored, and all the docks my ship has lined,
Where body language bridged the gap with those from distant lands,
When the unknown caused uncertain fear  in greeting fellow man,
Amidst the seas that roared as if the hand of God propelled them,
There's that kid I saw in Rio, and I'll be damned if I forget him.


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Distante

The fairest of seas surrounding me;
Nor clouds, nor breeze binding me;
Yet I'm bound on this ship and alone:
The void prevalent has left me forlorn...

I sail from strained waters to land;
Yet I despair in faith's hand;
But for now, I'm stranded here--
Like a soldier disbanded here;
I try to raise the sails to motion
And hope to see a little shore...
Yet I feel, in a dreary fashion,
I try but I can do no more...

What grudge have ye against me, winds?
Bluest water, for what cause
Dost thou stay me down upon
Whilst my vessel's gathering moss?

Answer, I demand of thee (yet no sound):
Nor stirring of water, nor sight of ground;
Yet I try to move in naught;
Yet, this courage in me has brought--
Fresh yearning brought to my sinew:
To the limbs, a vigor of new,
To try myself to advance,
Rather than to hold-on askance--
Who's to say another league,
Could free me from this other realm...


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Dedication to Everyone

I feel that I have found a home in this cyberspace
with full of hearts and ideas in a special place
I wonder of all the people in the world to make me smile
with antics that help me grow in every mile
I do want to say to all of the people with respect
because of all of you my mind is not in a wreck
I would lie if I did not get ideas from all of you
without you my poems would not come true
I bless everyone with care 
with kindness and without dis-pare
I hold my hands high and put them together
with this I bless you with good weather
I do read some of the poems that people put out
sometimes I feel with out a doubt
I feel the pain in the poems that some has revealed
with hopes that they can read with their mind not sealed
I smile a bunch with every word
it is like a music in my head making a cord
I do want you all to know that you have made my day
to be a better day in every different array
I cherish my time with all the people in my heart
the words flow in my mind is just but a start
I'm happy with everyone in PoetrySoup.com 
with hardship that came this cyberspace makes me calm
I cannot choose five cause if I do I don't think it's right
just to tell you that is just my own insight
I thank all for helping me grow with all the poems that are shown
with faith and humor, with views of kindness this site has grown

If I had to say or dedicate my poems to who 
would be the first five who reads my poems with a point of view


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Female Companion

                                                     She is so typical
                                                           So critical
                                                   For most part difficult

                                   I never really could grasp her in such way
                                       She just wants me to some how stay
                               She comes to my man cave and makes me obey

                                          Shy she was and now I am scared
                                              In such way I almost cared
                              She thinks she can do everything for me I swear

                         She makes me guess everyday but I keep on believing
     Because it is fun to give her a kiss, while she does not know when she is sleeping
                She stresses out but I will tell her my love for her keeps deepening

                So for the most part I just keep her close to make her smile and me
                                When I do things I do it for her it is always a key
            Call me romantic or call me stupefied, but it makes her so, so, sooo, happy


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A Spanking Good Tale

A spanking good tale I read a blog -was it only yesterday I haven’t laughed so much, I can truly say About large women and I will not make fun That’s because I am turning into one But the blog that I read proved there is hope for all As long as we can make sausages, if I recall A massage or two with a pin rolling flat Is it to iron out wrinkles or reduce the fat? A spank a day or so I have heard Is what middle age men like, but girls think absurd A front bum, well that’s a new one on me I have enough in the rear to perhaps make up three But what gives me hope, apart from the front bum thing Is that some men out there seem to enjoy this sort of thing So send me you dreams followed by your numbers too I’ll put them aside for when I’m ready for you So thank you Chris for your blog yesterday You have given hope to all women and that’s all I can say
Inspired By Chris D Aechner's Blog 15/02/2012


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Family

A decade in to
a new millennium,
a woman, nearing
a century on Earth,
braces herself in
a doorway of
the house,
she has lived in since birth.

Her oldest son unfastens his belt, and takes a seat at the end of her table,
where her middle son just fixed the legs of the chair; to make sure it was stable.
Her youngest son brushes the webs off the wall, and scrubs the stains from the floor.
Her only daughter packs up her pictures, and helps her through the door.

A decade in to 
a new millennium,
a life, almost
a century long,
comes flooding back
to the thoughts of a woman
who feels removed 
from where she belongs.

Her daughter tries to lift her spirits, (from the room in which, she slept as a child)
but no one could easily witness their memories, all being sorted, and filed.
Her house is dissected, and put in a truck that waits - like a thief - in the drive.
-The cumbersome stance; the delicate dance; together, they help one another survive.

A decade in to 
a new millennium,
a woman approaches
a century - passed.
A man in the attic
waves from the window -
Assuring her: 
This home will not be her last.


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Mammogram

She stood there
humiliated,
nearly naked
as a
stranger
touched her.
She was
searching for
something
she could not see,
she could not feel:
A silent killer,
a raper of
self-esteem,
identity,
womanhood. 
She endured it,
the pain,
the embarrassment,
because
her mother
had died
and she would
survive.


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SOLDIERS NIGHTMARE contest waking up from a nightmare

                         VIETNAM VET SOLDIER'S NIGHTMARE

Another dream –
I could not wake –
Escape from what would follow--
Grasping for a secret word, the letters stark and hollow--
I was trapped entangled there,
Just beyond the reach
Of men that could release me
Or a hill that could be breached

Gunfire was a backdrop 
Soft and pungent was its sound
Fell on me like raindrops--strangely harmless on the ground

Smoky gray encased me like a piece of sleeping net
Tunnel faces hidden —easy killing, no regret-- 
Felt terror and the aching for the friends around me cold
Standup guys with stalwart hearts--just did what they were told

Then my cell phone beeped a beep---
A message had come in ....
Now awake I saw your name---
My new day would begin.


Victoria Anderson-Throop
November 25, 2012
waking from a nightmare contest


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A father-The son

						Joined hands proud smiles
 
					     "let's walk a thousand miles!!!"

					  "wake up,shall we?" to defy, to ignore

					        tonight no man shall snore

					      	  startled and awake

					      little heart pounds and ache

					   nine years through a pair of eyes

					     from above, ask a lot of whys?

					    heavy,big but nonetheless gentle

					  a hand on shoulder,another on mantle

						"come and try, my son"

					   # tonight sleep to rise along the sun

					kiss on forehead while i settle with my bed

					  no gift of anger still gaze boiling red

					      "Father, why so many together?"

				     #to hate to unite to fight to die and even, to kill

			              "To make all safe, sound and secure,my little bill"

					    "I feel scared",trembling lips utter

				   notice the rolling tears with sweet smell of factory butter

				        a hug two kiss mixed with infinite love and care

					     # Don't worry,your mother is here

				   Her worried hands with help of eyes,"you going out, tonight?" 
			
				       "Have to, rights of men and mine....it's all right"

				      hear one more voice while it converts to many cries

					 safe,sound and secure # i hope the field dries

					 happy dreams with yellow to ball,we wish right

					  but clouds only pour bloody red, tonight.....
				          but clouds only pour bloody red, tonight.....


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Is That Too Much To Ask



I'm usually quite upbeat in all my poems So why should is this one be different Going to make an attempt to come down off my cloud And stop pretending everybody loves everybody I'm certainly aware of the ills of the world These constant flareups that have been happening Since the very dawn of civilization As a member of the human race I'm certainly not proud of our record Of constant conflict somewhere in this world of ours They say us guys are very territorial If that's the case, we'll never be able to coexist With people of different colour, language and customs We are bound to clash It's quite natural to have differences But why do these differences have to lead to war Why can't we sit down as civilized people And solve our differences We humans are a combative bunch at the best of times But the average person on the street Doesn't want war, just wants to live our lives in peace Provide for our family and go about our business All we want is to be happy IS THAT TOO MUCH TO ASK © Jack Ellison 2013


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Stone cold

He betake himself to his room
Does a clear blue sky betokening a bright day?
His motivating memory needs to retrace the day,
The reverberating revival and the doom.
In the boulevard, sloppy and slippery
Derelicts yet living on the streets
Where are the members of the expedition?
Buster! Prominent players on the pains.
In his fatherland, full of luxuries,
Where he is used and kicked
With nothing like honey moon or period
His readiness is there forever,
Like compatriots who look to their history.
For words he wails in himself is not of doubt:
What goes around, comes around
And what comes the world goes the world.
A deranged attacker, could he be?


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I can't really tell you what is, only what it feels like

So depressed,
maybe even a little stressed,
heart beats completely out of my chest, 
but why?
I can't the image out of my head,
I rest head in my bed, restless, all night Oh i'm so breathless,
I cry..
This inflicted, conflicted pain, may come from within me,
but it started with you.
Something so bittersweet, often lies through your teeth,
that's what you fed me.
Stay true, is what I said to you, even this action was cruel.
In this private world, I'm all alone
I don't like how it hurts.
Completely isolated myself from the world,
it's been days since I answered my phone.
Am I hurt, or did I receive what I was worth?
Dwelling on the past is my stress,
I cant move on, I'm definitely depressed.
Insecurities building on me, with your manipulation and painful memories.
I seize to believe this is my life's destiny,
I need a revision,
What exactly is this thing we call living?
I forgot good times, I let in the bad.
Being me, living life, freely, positive intensity,
it made made you mad.
Innocent girl learned how to live a lie,
life passed by,learned how to fake a smile and cry inside.
I need a lift, a need to rejuvenate,
I need to release this hate, at this rate, I hope I'm not too late.
Overly emotional, this  experience..hurt my physical, mental, well- being
Who could cause so much pain, was it just me?
How could your aggression, and obsession allow me to numb the delight from life.
I neglect the light,the love, the girl, who once knew how to live.
She was wonderful, highly intellectual, and oh so beautiful,
Now she's evidence of physical,emotional damaged work from the palm of your hands.
Completely broken,maybe even for good.



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The Spirit Lifter Queen

This is dedicated to my new friend, Hope.  Thanks for keeping my spirits lifted!

A spirit lifter Lifts up your spirit To a higher level Than you can get They pull from inside Our God given light To share with others As we shine so bright Now every spirit lifter Needs their spirits lifted too The more their spirits are lifted The more spirit lifting they can do They are always so busy Lifting the joy of others To ever pick up their joy And that is their druthers There are times they notice not That their joy has fallen down It’s not until they see their face To find it is wearing a frown That’s when other spirit lifters Will come and jump right in To be quick as possible As they really do save them The Spirit Lifter Queen I finally met and got to see That she carries roots as strong As a magnificent old oak tree Her light shines so beautiful Hope is the name we call her As she is the picture of hope And hope is the root of a spirit lifter Her roots run so very deep And her light shines on everyone As hope is to expect with confidence To cherish a desire with anticipation I feel most privileged To have acquainted with her As even one of her joyful giggles Always lifts my spirits higher When the joy bubbles up from in me I gladly bounce them back to her As she really is the Queen Of all the spirit lifters! Florence McMillian (Flo)


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Callie Cat, the Perfect Pet

    One day my daughter brought home a scraggly looking young cat who had always 
lived outside. In her first year, we learned she had given birth to two litters of kittens, most of which died. She’d always had to scrounge for food and had even escaped from the pound, only to find her way back to that place where she’d not been well-treated! When my daughter saw her, it was her kittens that were being given away. But my daughter saw a gentle quality in this mother cat that surpassed the sweetness of the kittens and asked to take the mother, who became known to our family as Callie (for Calico). 

   Callie grew plump and flourished in our home. She was no nuisance to anybody or anything. She became so pampered that she hated the outdoors and if a door were opened, she would approach the “outside” cautiously, only to come racing back inside the minute we returned from our porch. Callie loved to sit on laps and be petted. The older she got, the louder she even purred. If a visitor came to the house, she would climb to their laps. She was small and so likable that nobody wanted to shoo her away.

   When our children left home, she became my one and only baby, curled up by my pillow each night and awakening me with a little pat to my face every morning for her breakfast.  Callie lived a long life, nearly 18 years, but has since passed on. Dying of cancer, she clung to life until we saw fit to have her put to sleep. I have since adopted other cats, and my current cat is indeed charming, but I still believe there is not another cat in the world that can compare to our one and only Callie Cat!


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The Truth of the Dragon-Knight

Last knight Eye dreamed Eye was a dragon with wings made from disdain and shaped like quaking fear that burned holes through my subconscious imaginings. Eye was gliding soundlessly thru dark clouds, thunder, and rain, while the Slayers stood below, grounded in tyranny and trying to pull Me from the knight sky...Then Eye could hear, then Eye watched thru Dragon-I's as arrows joined my flight...trying to penetrate the hard scales of My spiritual skin. The muted sharpness of the arrows' dancing ricocheted off of Me.

Then Eye cried. Not in agony or pain or sadness...no

Eye cried in echoing defiance of the oppression of blind slavery and meaningless denial. Eye belched blue and green flame and roared aloud--as loud as my Dragon-voice would carry. Eye scorched the minds of the lie-ers and self-made martyrs (there, the ones who were carrying the omission of Truth of this world).

The Slayers still stood their ground. They kept circling  around and around under Me...but Eye kept pumping My neck, Eye kept beating My wings, but still the Slayers came...more and more of them...

Eye dived down deep toward their barren landscape (My Own Hunting Ground!!); Eye needed to see their torn, hated faces...Men, all. They kept their hoods drawn, their faces hidden from My I's. But their bodies were bare and naked to My Dragon-flame, naked to the force of My righteous wrath. Eye swept down closer, closer until Eye could smell the scents of their sweat and dried blood (of conquered servants before), and Eye could see, even count, the dark hairs sprouting from greasy, dirt-clogged pores. Eye could see that some bore vehement scars, jagged marks streaking across their man-flesh.

Their weapons were crude, mostly: wood axes, scythes, cudgels, kitchen knivez sharpened to a murderous edge...the only sophisticated armaments were their bows, their arrows. The bows were of blood and bone and tendon and blind fear, the sinewy string woven with acceptance of the  Truth...how odd (the Truth that they must stand and fight a common enemy as a single unit, that they must stop war amongst themselves to do so)...and their arrows were bound with Hope and Reason, that Eye would die before them, that they would live on. The bows were more beautiful than the Slayers deserved to wield, but they commanded them with such grace and poise and proficiency...

The Truth is Eye, the Dragon-Knight, and the Slayers are all of mankind's fear and war and social stigma among thorns...

Their bows were the making of Truth and Love and Acceptance, only constructed and command-able when mankind will stand together and open their I's and see.


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Walter

He stood and aimlessly watched the parade of patrons and volunteers that wandered daily past his kennel.  All so familiar, so ordinary.  Just like every other day he mused.  Nothing new.  Nothing special.

Moving to the small crumpled blanket near the back of his cage, he turned several times and finally curled up, head on his paws, positioned so that he could watch the activity around him.  But in reality, he was bored.  It had been a long time since he had met each morning with anticipation.  Too many days.   Too much disappointment.  He would leave all that barking and racing to the front of  their cage to the younger pups who hadn’t figured out yet that the cute ones went first.  It didn’t really make any difference what you did to attract attention if you weren’t young or cute, or both.

Too much time had gone by to participate in the charade.  In reality, Walter had seen a lot of people that he would rather not spend a lot of time with.  You know the type.  Kind of hyper, bouncing from stray to stray, looking for a perfect dog.  Kids poking their fingers  through the kennel screen or banging on it.  Some even making barking sounds.  He didn’t need any of that and was glad when they were gone.

Walter was very picky.  Set in his ways after so many years.  He had had it good for  a long time.  An only dog in a household of two people that let him be himself.  No tricks. No stunts.  Just long naps and daily walks.  A yard to himself to reflect on what was for dinner.  He had been fond of his doggy bed in their bedroom.  Each night he would help his owner walk through the house turning off the lights and checking the doors before they climbed the stairs together.  And there was always one last good night pat before settling down.

But those days were gone now.  First one had become ill and went to the hospital and never came back.  The other one changed overnight, spending long days, sitting mostly.  The walks became less frequent.  Walter did what he could.   He could see it in their eyes that they were hurting from their loss. He would make a point of laying his head in their lap, trying to let them know that he missed them too.  At times like this, he instinctively knew that although it remained unsaid, they only had each other.

He remembers well the day that his owner snapped a leash on him and said, “well Walter, I’m afraid we have to say goodbye.  I have to go to a place where they won’t let me keep you, so I am going to have to let you go.”  Walter could see the tears in his eyes.  He knew it would do him no good to whine or resist.  It was obvious there were no alternatives.  And besides, it would just make it harder on his owner.  But he was going to miss him.  It was not going to be easy to adjust.

But adjust he did.   He had been here a long time now and had seen countless pups and dogs  trot past his cage with light hearts and  new owners, heading off with new found hopes and expectations.  But it soon became obvious that there weren’t a lot of people that wanted an old yellow hound.  Everyone wanted the young ones.  So here he lay, dozing a bit, but still keeping an eye on those walking by, many giving him but a glance before moving on.

He heard them before the saw them.  ”Honey” the voice said.  ”That looks like Walter, old Mr. Whitney’s dog.”  Walters ears perked up a little.  ”Do I know them” he thought.  ”They seem to know me”.  I’d better go take a closer look” and with that, he stood and slowly ambled toward his kennel gate, giving a cautious wag of his tail.

“It is him” the man said.  ”Walter, how you doing boy?  Do you remember me?”

And upon closer inspection, Walter did remember him.  He used to live right across the street.  He would see him in his yard and if Walter were to ramble over, he usually had a dog treat in his pocket.  With the recognition, Walter gave a little stronger wag and moved toward the fingers extended through the fencing.  It was good to see an old friend.

“What do you say hon” the man said.  ”How would you feel about bringing Walter home with us?”

Walter looked at the woman and saw her nod in agreement.  ”You wait here and I’ll go find a volunteer.”

The man bent down and said “What do you think Walter?  Would you like to go home with us?”

Actually, Walter decided, he could think of nothing he would like more.  A chance to go back to the old neighborhood with people he already knew.  What was there not to like.

Soon the woman returned and the gate opened.  A leash was snapped on Walter and together they proceeded past the rows of dogs and puppies, all vying for their attention.  Walter couldn't help but stand a little straighter, stepping a little more lightly, showing off.  ”This is what going home looks like guys.” he thought.  ”Good luck and goodbye”.

As they neared the car the man said “I can’t believe we found you Walter.  There is someone I am going to take you to see.  I can’t wait to see the expression on his face when you walk in his room>”

Walter, of course, knew exactly who he was talking about.  And he couldn't wait to see the expression on his face either.


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I'm thinking of cheating with you

I’m thinking of cheating with you.            Steven Hudson

I dreamed of you last night,
And thoughts of you occupied my mind today,
Can I see you again tomorrow?
What is it about your look that thrills me?
You’re like a break in the clouds on a stormy sea,
My heart leaps and falls on waves of your every movement,
You return my gaze with a smile of your own,
And pull me in close with it,
I want to know you, everything about you,
To discover what makes you come alive,
You’re tenderness and beauty is unmatched,
I’m thinking of cheating with you,
Because you have something I desperately need at home,
Am I crazy?
So I watch you with our children and am keenly aware, that
You may have been just a stranger in the park,
But instead, am happy to discover you as my beloved wife,
So my desire is to run off with you, and have an adventurous affair,
Or maybe we could just go home, and make it happen there..


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Purpose we are on earth

We are on earth to know To love Eternal God To do good according to His will And to go someday in heaven Human being means to come from Eternal God To go back to Eternal God The Truth is Our origins goes back farther than our parents Our parents are Eternal God’s tool For us to be on earth Sometimes we feel our Creator is near Sometimes we feel nothing at all So that we might find the way home Eternal God sent His Eternal Son Who freed us from sin Save us from the Eternal Father’s world destruction Eternal God, wanted to destroy the world Depressed People He created were sinning Eternal Son stopped Him Eternal Father is Yahweh Means “I AM” Eternal Son is Jesus Christ He is the Highest Priest of the Catholic or Roman Catholic Church We call Catholic priest, father Represent Father Christ He is the Highest Priest The Eternal Father is in Him Jesus Christ is Father Christ He is the way The Truth The Life 4092013


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Della

She doesn't deserve this.
Alone, after fifty-odd years
Married to him.
Alone, too attached to her home
To leave it to live with a son
In a place strange to her.
Alone,  still talking to the husband
Who has been dead a year now.
In a moment of clarityy, she realizes he is gone
And feels compelled to visit him
At the cemetery.
Down the road she started
Picked up by neighbors three times
And taken back home.
They, knowing she was no longer capable of being alone,
Yet no one thought to stay.
Now she's gone, we don't know where
The woods, the river, the roadsides
Where can she be?
Wherever it is, we can only pray, Della 
That you are no longer alone.


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The clock is ticking

Ticks, tick I listen to the time go
An hourglass I watch the sand flow
Tick, tock I see the time upon the clock
I feel lost, wandered out from the flock.

My eyes view all that I’ve been through
The journey always brings me back to you
I can’t seem to focus and the time just flies
Another day passes and something just dies.

My heart feels passion, the clock keeps on spinning
I cannot see if I am losing or winning
I try to stand but can’t find my feet
I see pieces of myself in the people I meet.

My mind is racing to keep pace with time
I try to gather all the pieces that are mine
My life seems scattered across the floor
I need to escape so I head out the door.

The sun has returned and shines down on me
Its’ rays warm my soul, its’ light I can see
The world I once knew has all but disappeared
When I closed my eyes this is what I feared.

I walk down the street but it’s like I’m not there
I feel like a ghost on a journey to nowhere
I just wander around and the time still goes
My heart feels confused but my mind knows.

I try to find something to make some sense of it all
But sometimes the descent is worse than the fall
A cool breeze blows it seems summer is gone
The leaves will be changing before too long.

The time just keeps ticking another day ends
The hands on the clock it is time they defend
When I thought I had time it slipped away
Time did not have time for me today…


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DOUBLE EDGE

Sword’s sharp edge attached side by side
One side a victor
Another side a villain
The sworn enemies, the bosom friends

And the sharp tongue between clinched teeth
With the paired edges that cuts both
At one end, wisdom of wits
While the other end unleashes the evil spirits

The life that is full of shows and shadows
The stride to strive towards a big ride
And the cruel hands of death at the offing
To be or not be

Time that rushes like a tide
One time, you are young and active
Another time, old and passive
One time walk tall and other stupors

The law with the sharp jaw that can bite both
One slit, confirm the crime
Another, confirm not the crime
To celebrate or celebrate not

And the love along the thin broken line full of tinges
One good trudge, hero
Another misstep, hate
Like matrimony hanging at balance

The torrent of punches to roll with
And the quest to be at par
And the hasty retreats, the quips and sound bites
Sometimes lemon to have lemonade or honey that maketh money


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The unkown

There are no promises, no real guarantees
You just have to go with it and hope for the best
It’s probably one of the scariest feelings
You want to not think about it and just enjoy it for what it is and live in the moment
Then there’s that little voice in your head saying “why bother?”
“You’re going to be left crushed and disappointed just like all the other time?”
You keep trying to push it aside but your heart and mind start to feel weary
While I consider myself to be the hopeless romantic who longs for that one who completes the puzzle piece, id don’t want to fall so hard again to end up putting the shattered pieces of my soul back together once more
I want to be able to jump and fly
Not fall and cry
It’s much easier said than done, as are many things
There are no promises, no real guarantees
But every once in a good while you got to jump into the unknown


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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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The Crops and the Cloud

A vast cloud came soaring over a field of crops in the early winter, the crops waited in despair for the cloud to rain but it never did. It just flew by without leaving a single droplet.
The crops however weren’t burnt and ruined because the winter was young and other clouds will come. Thus, someday it will rain before the summer comes and the crops die. The crops were still hopeful and nothing broke their spirit.
But as the world works on a cycle there’s always a chance that the same first cloud might come back and the crops will always be waiting for that rain.
The first cloud was forgotten by the crops, but if it passed by again it would be like a new opened page.


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L O M L Always

The thought of her smiling gave me faith
From when we were little we bathe
My mother and her mother is best friends
They both took care of us and gifts they send
We pulled each others hair
And she was always quick to dare
When I smiled at her she knew it was no good
She learned to pull me up and she understood
I just wanted her attention and that she gave
She knew it in her heart love was my slave
From when we were a child with full of energy I had my way
She was the one who was my guide and she did not push me away
When I saw her cry one day and her eyes was so sad
I gave her a flower and I smiled at her and made her glad
When some one special leaves her heart
I sat by her and never wanted to depart
She is the love of my life always
She is the one who gave me my hope through out my days
So I gave her my heart and love from within
And I did not make it thin
I stood by her side since I was a child
I gave her my support when we were wild
She knew who I was and I let her go the distance
I did not hate her or give her resistance
My mother and her mother are great friends and their virtue will never end
Because of their love they both trusted us to live our ways to transcend
So my childhood friend was my best friend, and now my wife
She new it from the start that we part of each others life


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By Nightfall Luminary

The sun enlightening at the front house
two old armchair-in places by the postal —  
the vicinities were dinners in cycles’                                                                                      
parent’s table, the nightfall resembled                                                                                     
sky, —and fling butterfly around upon
spotlights lining by of sidewalk streets . . . 

Surprise was bound my moments
the primary time you’d walk
from my home . . .                                                                                                               
Stupefied, I got enacting take action about
smiled between me teethes of cheer
but, our nasty memories’ dated in dossiers
stopped all my puller-goals
and let you proceed without been
Break up, your trial my call . . . 

I could fallow your way-along
How could, you rendered that, after all?
Sudden was three question mares, my mind
but, asset wound was my heart
thou I dismiss talk to you anew . . . 

In while, along as moment I felt myself
odd, stupefied and mirthful in about
You been presented, then, you walked                                                                                
pretense front my stand sat, an armchair,                                                                                     
by the postal about 16 ft. away . . .  
stopped something in me, thy taking action
then, I felt pitifully fallowed you				
fled in the mile, by the vicinity
And street corners, —am now without                                                                                      
seen you afresh’ by gone twenty                                                                                                 
year long ago, and this whereas then! 


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A Shelf Clock Automaton

The price was worth it, so it seemed;
It was right and not a penny more.
Here the clock will sit, here it will count               
Its days - round and round its hands
Will spin – metered by its spirit within.
Embedded in its mahogany tomb
And gilded by an exacting eye
Only seldom will you hear it cry
With the hours that amble by.
Atop the clock’s mantle green
Within a parapet of stone
There you’ll see a sailing ship
With wooden masts and ivory sails
Pitching to and fro against an angry sea 
Heralding the arrival of each anticipated eve.                                      
Standing on the shoreline resolute and sworn,                                         
A gilded sailor wields a rope 
To lasso those who mourn;
He offers to them the strand of hope. 			
A stone wall crumbles across the sea,	
A fortuitous port of call reveals 
How brief life’s glory can be
As it makes its unwary fall.                             
The golden wreath of life eternal
Surrounds the clock’s face			
To show assuredly our victory 
Over death’s dark embrace.
Descending sea serpents sinuously wind
Beside the timeless garland shrine
To gather at a feast of shells 
Mingled with some flailing scales;
Even in the depths of shadows,
This mahogany tomb yields its enslaved
To the resurrection of the saved.
Gilded tulips etched in a circle 
Atop the clock’s opulent base 
Testifies to the supernal foundation
Of Christ’s unchanging grace.
Though just a clock, it’s slightly more
As you gaze deeper into its obvious lure;	
Where some things are as they seem,
Others hold to a different scheme.


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my companions

 
My only companions are my dreams my only friends Who call out for me their voices a melody for me to fallow save me my friends from this Dark World Wolfs teach me to be loyal and to fight the dark and when make love to the dark embracing it becoming dark myself yet not to succumb to its control Fae teach me to kill with words And when to use them to save Of the meanings of speech and its clever twists To speak a truth one does not want to hear And still make them hear tote truth Twin sprits teach me to know the sprits Those elusive things some call souls Not knowing how to talk with them, we converse Not knowing how to feel their presence, I touch them I feel the hands brush against my skin As dragons, teach of fire, rage, and bloodlust ,when to use it and how to use it well like a well made WAR HAMMER ,and from the masters I learn lore and flight for though I have no wings still I fly with them Trees teach of patience And the earth’s presence and how to care her Of the minds herbs and streams to feed my roots As my branches wither Their Skills With The Wood Are Rival To None Succubus and Incubus you teach of the heart, it’s betrayals, loves, comforts how to guard the heart, and still feel for they know best, its mysterious ways Whilst my heart, mind and body scream Scream for release from this reality To dreams and the worlds found through their doorways Call out to me my friends save me from those who ridicule me who constrain me in chains of iron as they sear my flesh Holding me fast to things, I must not do or have cages of words, deeds, people, and their judgments I Hate Them, And Their Ways are both evil and cruel I know not how long I have left For my blood screams for vengeance To bathe in its fires ,to soar free in the skies where none but you can reach me SAVE ME, MY FRIENDS I BEG YOU!!! I long for your embrace your fiery breath the sweet scent of wet moss you warm sprit upon mine the pack running singing the songs that change me to your likeness the sleep where my heart lies in your hands as you feed your lustful hungers upon my troubles leaving me to sleep untroubled free of my cares and worries giving me my heart backed still with its worries and cares but unburdened you cleaver teachers I lust for your wisdom and the peace you bring me please come open the doorway to the forests and the fire moors save me my friends
this is also a personification


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The world Outside

The world outside seems quite a mess,
What happens next is anyone’s guess.
So much senseless violence innocent die,
Raindrops fall from heaven as angels cry.

I tell myself I can make it better,
Yet it’s pouring outside, I get wetter.
The clouds pass over as the sun returns,
The fire glows as the bridge still burns.

I wonder can I make it to the other side,
The way around is a pretty long ride.
I opt to give it just one more chance,
It doesn’t appear bad upon second glance.

I convince myself the grass is greener there,
But when I arrive it is like a nightmare.
I need to learn to trust what I see,
As I search for a place I can feel free.

Maybe it’s not bad where I now stand,
I have to decide the time is at hand.
Seconds tick away and turn into hours,
I need to stop and smell the flowers.

I stand on a hill, view the valley below,
I wanted to climb but down I do go.
All of a sudden a breeze starts to blow,
I seem to recall all I used to know.

The day passes by and then it is gone,
I listen to catch a bird singing a song.
I come to realize the ups and downs,
As smiles replace so many frowns.

The world will have its good and its bad.
Moments of tears while others are glad.
Still I am thankful for all that shall be,
As the sun sets it shall be beauty I see.


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Flash-Backs

I had a dream where nothing 
was what it seemed.
It was dark and then too bright 
and all my words left my mind.
I saw a bright beam where 
everything was what I’d 
deemed.
The darkness fell over the 
shadows and swallowed 
everything that was kind.
The light fled and tomorrow 
was a treasure I just knew I 
had to find.

Yesterday was lost and 
everyone stood with a great 
amount in cost.
It was sad and it was glad, but 
everyone threw it up for a toss.
Passing through time with 
glimmering bright lights,
Where were the dark lonely 
nights?

Flash-backs timing the tracks 
as most folks fell through tiny 
little cracks,
Each one flashed back on top 
of crumpling down broken old 
stacks.
Then it was cold and then it got 
hot.
Today was here and being 
blotted out like a tiny black 
dot.
Flash-backs and flash-backs 
sending millions tracks of light 
to never forget me not.

®Registered: 2003 Ann Rich


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Sitting,Waiting,Wishing

And then I think “Why is it that the good ones are hard to find?”
Shouldn’t be just the opposite?
That generosity and loyalty is the norm?
Someone who is serious and is dedicated to more the just sports and getting layed?
Why are my only two options to settle for less or to keep on waiting until I have no faith left;
Believing that they are all the same 
And then these expectations turn into self-evaluations
Thinking and feeling things I shouldn’t have to be
And so here I am on a Tuesday night
Sitting, waiting, wishing.


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'Sins of the Fathers No More'

My abusive, late stepfather--
     a repressed, black racist--
was a sergeant in the army
     and face-smacking sadist.
I 'oft bemoaned that I was white
    ( as if it were my fault!)
and that he was black (and big!).
     So in thoughtless revolt

against his continual abuse
      one day under my breath
I called him a "******" (and boy
     did he beat me to death!).
Against more physical abuse
     I then wisely refused
to provoke him to great anger
     so I was not accused

of his death for being beaten.
     Then Mom and he divorced
because the abuse got much worse;--
     free, I felt no remorse.
Now I was the man of  the house
     and life was less stormy;
for years after we lived in peace:
     my Mom, siblings, and me.

Then I got religion and God
     and gave my life to Christ;
'twas the best thing I ever did!
     I changed--and it sufficed.
My anger and embitteredness
     I had for years repressed
began to slowly disappear;
     I became less depressed.

Later, my erstwhile stepfather
     got swelling of the lung,--
emphysema! I forgave him
     not back when I was young
for all the abuse and the pain
     that made my life so grim;
but I've realized that the trauma
     of not forgiving him

would be greater than what I've felt.
     We all sin and transgress; 
so God's grace moved me to let go
     of him with forgiveness.
When it's time to let go and to
      assure all's forgiven,
I'll be with him to pray for God
      to show him His heaven.

















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Death Of A Rose

Death of a Rose
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears
 
The onion blooms this summer with an essence of pleasure
The winter’s rose brings the smell of death
As X marks the spot
I ask why?
The letters reveal everything in a perfect storm
As my fortune grew wheels I became bankrupt 
My pockets flat-lined into dust
 My days became a Knights reality
My short comings were the guiding in my life’s fatalities
My burdens became the struggles of my light
Each and every day 
I deal with this in this life
My soul is sun burned
My life has washed ashore
Times two; my son’s bring me rays of light
Allowing me to see everything with excellent vision
In all four corners of this ring surrounding my fingers tip
Victory stands bold in the middle 
Failure has lost to a simple slip
So who’s the real champion now?

Tears and sweat are only separated 
By the point in which they’re released
Beauty lies deeply 
Within the heart of the beast
One moment for the momentum 
That destroys the cells of venom
Black and cancerous, 
It sickens our society as we watch this rose die
The funeral we attend today stems from this
This is the Death
Of A Rose.


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One gave, One took, One wanted

He needed her to be there so he wouldn't be alone.  He needed her to stay to make his life good and better.  He needed her to be what he could not.  He put her above all others in ways only he could know.  She never knew...never felt those ways.  He couldn't show them to her.  That was his only failing and her greatest heartbreak.

He wanted her more than he had ever wanted any woman ever before in his life.  He lusted for her, desired her, thought of nothing but her.  He was consumed by her face, her body, her person...he wanted all of her because she was his ideal.  She made him feel alive with hope for more, hope for a life to be lived with what he had never experienced.  He wanted joy and kindness, conversation and sexuality, tenderness and playfulness.  He wanted a true partner in all of his life.

He loved her.  He loved her completely, fully, uncontrollably and longingly.  That came first.  The love.  All else--desire, mutual respect, lust, tenderness, spirituality--was right behind the love that was held so tightly for decades.  The love was always there.  It never left, never ebbed, never waned.  He ached for her.  He loved no other like her.  He thought and dreamt of her.  It was the love, only love, that moved him toward her.  And then, he carried the pieces of her broken heart in his heart...and he always will.

One gave, one took, one wanted.....and all that was left was me.....


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Cruel Hearted Greedy People Update

This is just an update to those of you who love your pets!!
 Not all the doctors are cruel hearted, greedy vets!!

I actually talked to a nice Doctor last night, 
 and at five o'clock my cat gave birth to five babies.
The lady took me at my word that I'll pay her tomorrow!
 Four babies lived and my cat is now spayed and her babies lived.
All but, one. I actually helped revive the kittens with my sister.
 This lady was so upset that she couldn't do anything at the clinic
she was "on call" for, that when she got home to her house she called.
 She has her own practice at her house, and she feared my baby would die.
As did, I. So My cat, Maxine, who is named after my Grandma, is okay.
 So is Lois and Quagmire, (Family Guy), and Emmet and Jasper. (Twilight)
So thanks everybody!!!! You guys are the greatest!!!!!


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Chance

Chance

By BJ Welsh

With life and living we take our chance
Nodding in agreement to a furtive glance
Waking up each day is a chance we take
That life will deliver us for Heaven’s sake
We awake each sunrise with a hope reborn
Chance seeing an other suffer and torn

It’s one other’s life you see at a glance
Hoping for approval, it’s but a chance
The life you witness as others pass
The pain inside may subside, alas
Hoping to see one as you
The chance you take to find two

Running out of time the clock is ticking
Chance there are others whose lives aren’t clicking
Great as that may be, the chance you’re all alone rises
Furtive glances from beneath disguises
Chance that hiding the pain and hurt won’t last
The agony you feel will not be fast

Chance you soon become discovered
In your waking hours its’ uncovered
You’ve lived a life of hurt and pain
 The chance you’ve taken may have been in vain 




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Letter to Poor Dad

Hallo my friend
Pardon my intrusion into your domain
But you see, I am a student in the University of Life
Whereby I am pursuing a Doctorate Degree in the Science of Successful Living
As I was submitting my thesis of research into your life
It occurred to me that I might as well write to you directly
To save my notes from gathering dust on a professor’s shelf

Poor Dad
The notion that you are poor is a fact I cannot deny
So I will not try to convince you otherwise
This is actually in concern of your son
You and I know that he is a good innocent child
And I know better than you that he is at a pivotal stage in life
As of now you possess so much influence over the direction his life will take
For in as much as you may not be proud of yourself in front of your peers
...who overcame similar past to make something better of their lives
	...your son is very proud of you
He looks up to you with wondrous trust
And it only befits that you should be his hero
But being a hero comes with something which you are known to fear – 
RESPONSIBILITY

Well, I am not going to advise you to be responsible
For I know you live in denial mode, so you’ll look for the easiest way out
I will instead ask you to be a truthful teacher
Be brave and accept your mistakes
Then teach your son of the painful lessons you have learnt from your failures
Teach him not to limit his thinking to the unfortunate reality you have cast him into
But to dare to believe in himself
...and to listen to his heartbeat and follow its guide
Tell him that poverty is in fact a blessing 
That from it he can create vivid reference of what life will be 
...if he doesn’t diligently work in pursuit of his greatest dreams
Teach him to use his limitations as the source of motivation
And then tell him you believe in him 
...and that he can be whatever he chooses to be
As long as he tries his honest best to be it
Tell him you support him fully, especially emotionally

The reason I am asking you to teach him
Is because the secret is that of what one is keen to teach
...he is guaranteed to learn even more than he knew before
In you teaching your son honest lessons from your heart and past
You will retrace your steps to where you got lost yourself
You will be possessed by renewed desire for success
Of your selfless and candid teachings to your son
...will emanate insurmountable delights
Dear poor dad, 
It’s time to be a real dad
And you son holds that key... earn it and use it


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A New Satisfaction

This is dedicated specifically to Howard Hof, one of my dearest friends, for giving me all of that new satisfaction!

A New Satisfaction It can’t be held inside, the satisfaction so new This can no longer hide, so let me just tell you You gave it to me, yes you sure did Such total ecstasy, I knew not existed I was totally fine, living without love Just happy all the time, no worries to think of Then you came along, to offer me some fun Being friends so long, and with no other one Well I said why not, it couldn’t hurt to try Let us give it a shot, to help us both get by It started out to only be, just a simple vodeodoe Then with the sexuality, chemistry started to flow It may be hard to believe, though it did happen then More than I could perceive, to levels of new satisfaction I never thought I’d see the day, where the dreams of Charlie Chill Could ever be completely taken away, now you’re the one my dreams can feel This new satisfaction you gave to me, has got to come from your kind heart So sincere I’ve always known you to be, I really should’ve known it from the start Now since this has begun, there is something I’ve gotta say I’m stuck on this new satisfaction, so you’re gonna have to push me away Florence McMillian (Flo)


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The Stump Mystery

Early this morning, at around about four forty five, five o’clock;
I heard somebody knocking on my front door.
I reluctantly forced myself to get up, fussing and cussing
all the time and went to see who the darn fool was.
There stood one of my neighbors, Lonnie Ray Crawford.
So I said: “Lonnie Ray, what the hell are you knocking
on the hot dang door for at this time of the morning?”
He said to me: “Hey there Butterbean,”
(most all of my friends and neighbors call me Butterbean)
 “there’s a big ass tree stump in your front yard.”
I stepped outside and looked and sure enough,
there it was, bigger than Dallas. So I asked old Lonnie Ray:
“Where in the dadgum doggone hell did the tree go?”
Neither one of us could figure that one out, so we drank some beer.
There hadn’t been a tornado or nothing like that last night,
that either one of us had read or heard about,
so we mulled the situation over and drank some more beer.
About seven thirty Lonnie Ray said he had to leave to go to work,
so he got up awkwardly and staggered out the front door.
The point being, if anyone finds a big old hickory nut tree in their yard
that doesn’t belong to them, it’s more than likely mine.
I surely would like for you to return it, if you please.


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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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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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If I Could Fly

If I could fly, where in the world would I possibly go?
Up and away my wings would carry me,
My destination not known!
If I could fly, I’d capture all of the Sun’s rays.
Up and away!
What a sight to see with such a grand milestone!
If I could fly, 
I would always look below.
Down and deep!
My eyes focused only on you.
My journey’s still unknown.
If I could fly, I’d stay on top with memories buried to keep.
Down and deep!
What an experience just to fly through!
Such a waste without you!

If I could fly, I would soar with my best perfection.
Soaring with pride!
My life achieved.
My destination excluding restrictions!
If I could fly, I’d forever remember this glide.
Soaring with pride!
What a thought to preconceive.
Such bright reflections!
If I could fly where in the world would I possibly go?
Up and away I would go only with you.
My destination remaining incognito!
If I could fly, I’d want to stay up and away!
What an incredible zone just to pass through!
Such a magnificent plateau!
If I could fly, I’d fly only for you!


®Registered: 1997 ANN RICH


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A Poem for a Weary Soul

Entering a realm where time seems still
Cherishing past memories and moments 
She treasures so dearly
The road ahead is rough
No matter how far or long she may go
The journey’s end seems so far
Days continue to pass by
But reason and purpose 
Has almost faded
Visits from friends, 
Letters from home, 
Gifts from loved ones
All ease the heart
Of the pain and agony 
From which she endures daily
And as the journey towards freedom draws nearer
The road ahead seems more strenuous
She sometimes wonders if it will ever end
Soon…
Soon will this age of timeless days end
And a new age of joy and happiness
Will free her weary soul


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The Shadow Man

If you’re ever passing Auburn Street
Find him if you can
Though he is not invisible,
He is the shadow man

Eyes avert his corner perch
And voices thin and drop
Paces quicken at his sight
And no one ever stops

The shadow whispers, “help me”
But it never hits their ears
Sound hovers for a moment
Before realizing no one hears

“I’m busy,” “Didn’t see you,”
“I have no change,”  “I’m late!”
Sun setting on an empty hat
The shadow bears his fate

But one small hand
Holds out a dime
“You’ve got no coins sir,
Please, take mine,”

The child skips away from the practiced
“God Bless You”
Back to the life Shadow once had,
Young conscience clean and true 

The Shadow’s scars will never mend
And hunger takes its toll
But with the dime clutched in his hand
The shadow heals his soul


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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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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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Genuine True Love Sighting

Dedicated to:  Evgeniya & Constantine

Genuine True Love Sighting Just felt like I had to share A few thoughts that I wrote Of how you both inspire me So this is a thank you note Now first I will tell you A few things about me With a brief description And a little bit of history Been divorced five times Raised my children on my own Working several jobs at a time And now they are all grown With sixteen grandchildren And another one on the way I’m filled with many blessings And most thankful each day I carry a cheerful attitude Keeping on the sunny side Try to always help others And most rules I do abide There is just one little thing In this life I wasn’t certain of If there could possibly really be Two people who share true love Every once in a blue moon I’ve caught a glimpse or two Of some couples who appear To be carrying love that’s true My hopes have stayed high For there to be a possibility That true love really exists Maybe even one day for me Then the day finally came When I saw the both of you Walking together hand in hand With a genuine joy shared by two You both shined so brightly Initially it was a big surprise Then many more times again I could hardly believe my eyes I knew I had to say something So I could let you both know How much you encouraged me With true happiness that shows Today I saw you both again When I drove down the alley As you sat on that yellow bench Laughing together so happily I stopped for just a moment As a smile grew on my face To catch a view of two people Enjoying each other’s space You do share something special A relationship of the right kind That genuine true love together Most people are searching to find Some people never really find it And some will never even try Some never knew they had it Until it has slipped right on by Never let go of what you have Just hold on through eternity Because that’s what true love Is genuinely supposed to be Florence McMillian (Flo)


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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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I Do Kiss

Beneath my mother’s watchful eye,
We had been courting for a year
And now I’m traveling all alone,
Excited with a bit of fear.

A thousand miles to the big city,
Unsophisticated country girl,
Seeking among the million faces
The one who sets her heart awhirl.

The train has reached my destination
I’ve been traveling two days and a night.
What if he is not there to meet me?
An innocent in dreadful plight.

I need not worry, he awaits me
And is the first one at the gate.
And as I feel his arms around me
I know I’m with my future mate.

He has made all of the arrangements,
A license and a preacher too.
With strangers as our two attendants,
We pledge ourselves and kiss “I do”.

By: Joyce Johnson 8/13/12

For PD.s Kissing Game ontest






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Jiao

She was a long awaited child,
This delicate flower of the East.
Maternal love turns into fear.
Her babe’s cheek bears the mark of beast.
One side is pure and fine of line,
The other ravaged by dark stain.
Copious tears for her are shed.
Her mother’s tears are shed in vain.

Dainty and perfect in all ways
Except for hated mark on face.
Exposed the more exquisite right,
The left is draped in folds of lace.
And thus it goes throughout the years,
Attracting some, repelling more.
Fearing to go without a veil
At times afraid to leave her door.

A seer, with pity for Jiao.
Predicts that love will set her free,
Releasing hope in her young heart,
Sometime, somehow, ‘twould come to be. 
And lo, he comes to lift the veil.
On her disgrace he leaves a kiss.
She feels the beauty of his soul
And in her heart a perfect bliss.

Her loveliness now in reveal.
Right side of face still soft and pale.
On the left side, once sadly marred,
A delicacy of flowers trail.	

Written by Joyce Johnson 3/9/2011
Written for Constance's contest "Tell Her Story"   won no. 9


"Jiao"  Chinese Feminine name, meaning delicate, tender, beautiful.

























































































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The Boy at the Park contest

I met a teenage boy last night
He inspired me to write
His words penetrated my soul
He made me evaluate my purpose and goal
He asked me if God was real
Then why does his mom go out at night and steal
Why was his brother murdered at eighteen
Why is his biological father a crack fiend
Why are children in this world starving everyday
Why does God not here him when he prays
Why are so many people living without a home
Why does he always feel so alone
Why did he have to grow up in the hood
Why is his whole generation misunderstood
Why do babies die at birth
Why can’t he have any worth
Why did his friends backstab him tonight to commit a crime
Why is he alive is he just wasting his time
Why are Americans never satisfied
Why are Christians dying for their religious love and pride
Why was slavery allowed for so long
Why are so many people living wrong
Why do many teenage mothers now exist
Why are many children slitting their writs
Why are drugs so easy to find
Why does the government keep us blind
Why is there cancer and all types of disease
“Ms. Help me understand all this please”
I looked over at this boy while tears dripped off my face
My friend this world I admit is one crazy place
Many things God never wanted for the human race
But we are blessed to have his Amazing Grace
His love will never go away
Yet, many live in disarray
God gave us all free will
At this point his eyes started to spill
We were created with choices
we all have our own voices
Angels were created to do whatever God may say
Humans have the option to disobey
One day we will fully understand
God’s original master plan
Someday we will have the privilege to see
What God intended life to be
One day evil will forever be locked away
Many will have to eternally pay
One day all that was ever taken from you
God will reinstate and make bran new
One day in this life you will grow up and be
A man with morals, values and integrity
For your present pain will not be in vain
You’re going to break those generational chains
Your sorrow 
will help others survive their tomorrow
There are divine appointments and I believe you just had one
I know that in your pocket you have a loaded gun
I know where you have been
I promise you the dilemmas of your life, you will win!
Even when you fall
You can still fulfill your call
I must admit
You only fail if you quit
One day some teenager will ask you to explain
And you will remember this night and everything you have gained.


BY: Sabina Nicole
Contest: Dilemmas


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The Indian Ocean Tsunami

My heart cries for thousands and thousands of people
those who perished in the earthquake-spawned waves;
known as tsunami, the worst natural disaster
that caused tons and tons of deaths across Asian countries.

It’s a great tragedy, a giant blow to humanity,
with its repercussions to all spheres of life –
a wake-up call, an immediate response
that needs to be attended to and done forthwith.

Global mourning takes its course in every nation,
particularly in these countries of Asia where –
Indonesia, Thailand, Sri Lanka are faced with difficulties;
in coping with destructions, tragedies, and other commotions
indeed, an urgent call that needs an international attention.

In four decades this catastrophe has ceased its wrath,
but after that starts another episode, so terrifying
that people who are caught up in that mere situation
can solemnly declare and profess their fears.

Oh, Mother Nature! at times we don’t know
your reactions that cause pandemonium,
tragedy, destruction, sorrow, and pain to all
like this one, a very strong and powerful disaster.

However, across the world, people show their compassion
with their unwavering generosity that floods in all levels
it’s an illustration that we’re humans with caring behaviors
to all those who’re afflicted and severely hit by this phenomenon.

I can’t imagine how the world mobilizes and responds
showing their love and concern to these people in pain
loss of lives, heart brokenness, and other misfortunes;
these generate an answer to be mindful of them in many ways.

I see the unprecedented generosity that rolls in every land,
institutions and other organizations make a collaboration
in what is conceived and put into action: fund raising,
charity, and pledges of thousands of donors.

Horrific media images shown in television channels,
are remarkable pointers for reflection and yet an invitation;
for someone who needs conversion and a return to church call,
that life can be as quick as those giant waves that killed many people.

It’s a theological reflection which embraces human sufferings,
Like a pathway to profound invocation, faith and trust in Him;
Oh God, our source of strength and goal to fulfill this portion
Where we unite ourselves to all those who’re in afflictions.


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Will to Live


I look ahead to the ends promised in my mind
But always reality clouds my eyes with the peppers of life
Sometimes I make hasty progress
Only a few steps ahead to be forced more steps to regress

Sometimes my hope gets a boost from a fine line I read off a book
But as soon as I lay down the book 
The reality of a stool beneath my foot
Makes me anticipate the pain of the noose

Still I have a will and I know that soon I will
On the back of the winged unicorn of my dreams 
...I will soar free
This reality is for the benefit of my dreams
On its harsh grindstones I will sharpen my will to live


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Holding Back

Nothing here is wrong because nothing ever could.
It has been so long,
A time that just never would!

Nothing here was ever lost because nothing was ever found.
It has been a toss,
A time that simply counted down!
Holding back the tears,
Puddles of many lost years!
Holding back my time,
I’m a prisoner with no crime.

There’s nothing here to hold because there never was.
It has been so cold,
A time for just because!
Holding back the pain,
My chronic death inside!
I have nothing to lose because there’s nothing to gain.
Holding back the strength of all my earned pride,
I’m just a moment gained with a will that eventually dies inside!


®Registered: 1997  Ann Rich 


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Serenity, The Bridge That Brought You to Thee

how could a girl so sweet and elegant, like the most beautiful flower to exist, like the sun 
that sets in the east, be able to bring me to my knees, with tears streaming down my face, i 
look into those eyes, SERENITY, bleeds from the eyes of thee, we built this bridge from the 
northwest down to the south, the biggest smile comes across her mouth, we built this on our 
own, now we stand face to face, a picture perfect showing, by the grace of the gods, and 
with our own bare hands we built this  bridge from the ground up, with the finest forms of 
gold, now the beauty is ours, for the two of us to hold, don't let go girl, just take my hand, i'll 
place the whole world in your palms, you've given me the ability to stand on my own two 
feet again, everything is ours! you wipe the tears that fall down my cheek, that have 
covered the skin on my face, who knew the void in my heart could be so easily replaced, the 
light from heaven lays its hands down on us, the grace of your hands, such an elegant 
touch, this means so much, we built this golden bridge from the ground up. Everything will 
be fine. your eyes lock to mine, there is nothing that could have the power to bring this 
down, we'll stand here till the end of time! don't lose hope. keep the faith. realize that this is 
our place. our place in life. the silence exalts thee, not a word needs to be said, i can see the 
story written so delicately on your precious face, your smile brings me to my knees, dear 
God please, what we've given to save ourselves. what's happened between us, oceans have 
bridged us far apart, nothing could separate the passion in our hearts, the breathing never 
got too hard, i look into the eyes of an angel, we've written the pages of our own gospel. this 
is a story of courage, strength, perseverance, devotion, and and a woman and a man. 
whose backs have been pressed up against the the wall for far too long! now we stand hand 
in hand, as the sun beats down our necks, the breathing has gotten easier, now that we are 
not so far apart.


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Competition

We have come from every district
In the whole of our large state.
We hold a big  convention,
Every year around this date.
We greet each other cheerfully,
I’ve been friends with some for years,
Then turn back to our creations as
Completion deadline nears.

We know what the judges hope to find, 
They come from our own ranks.
They look for beauty and harmony.
Their only pay is thanks. 
We’ve memorized the scale of points
On which entries will be judged.
Each judge knows the rules by heart
And will notice if we’ve fudged. 

I stand back from my exhibit
And sincerely make a try
To see not as a mother views her child,
But with honest judge’s eye.
I carefully adjust another line
Before it is time to depart.
The judges are impatient for 
Their judging rounds to start.

I wander to another room
Where judging is all done.
I find to my amazement that
My chamaecypais nookatensis has won.
It has taken the arboreal award.
That is a nice surprise.
But it is in the other room
Where result of my labor lies.

We try to cheer each other
As we stay to hear our fate.
The judging books are closing.
We will not have long to wait.
I spy from far across the way,
Red ribbon lying there.
My flower arrangement’s taken second,
Which to first cannot compare.

I hide my disappointment
And hold back a falling tear.
And vow to win the big one
In the Flower Show next year.



 








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Tsunamis

The brevity of life shifts with the sand
As with the tide the waves so bend.
Further, further out to sea flows the hand
Of prosperity to plunder at depth’s end
To return unexpectedly upon the land
There to reap to apprehend, nay to pretend
With benevolence, a harvest to demand.
Churning discord from the deep thrashes
Wildly so to seek, the lives of men to steal;
Warning not its hapless meal;

Higher, higher one must flee the outstretched
Arms of poverty there to stand in defiance
Of hopelessness and self-reliance.
Search ye must for the Fallen, so to save
From the grave, lest they stumble in 
The darkness, lonely and afraid.
Many, many souls are lost from this
Our dying world, never shall we again
Embrace the innocence of bliss.

Turned from hours into days our memories
Etched with grief display an embrace
That once was, and that will someday be
Waiting for us in eternity. 
 
Though the earth gives way, and the mountains
Fall into the sea, though its waters churn with foam,
We are not alone, “The Lord of hosts is on our side, 
Our safety to secure; the God of Jacob is for us,
A refuge strong and sure.”
 
We walk by faith into tomorrow uncertain of the day,
Yet, our Good Shepherd, Christ our Lord is protecting us
All the way.  He sustains us daily by His grace, this joy
We often know; though even in our darkest hours 
He’s present where we go.  

Our Shepherd leads us gently home over mountains
And valleys low; though evil all around us lurks
All eager to devour, we tremble not; we fear no ill
For our salvation, Christ fulfilled.

Jonathan M. Bellmann


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It's Time

It’s Time

By BJ Welsh


The sun shines brightly each morn’
Life goes on although the heart is torn
Only you wished for rain instead
Exposure to light is what you’ve dread
Breathing in life that you’ve been given
Spitting it back out to those who are livin’
It’s time, you think, to worry no more
There’s only always silence at the door

The shades don’t work as you think they should
Sun rays seeping through as only mother nature could
What more could you do to keep things dark?
Close your eyes, go ahead, you’ve left your mark
It’s time, you think, to worry no more
There’s surely silence at the door

The mind works in mysterious ways
Your paralyzed and in a daze
The things you lost have never been yours
Borrowed for a while, so take a pause
It’s time to repay that long ago debt
Promises made and you thought kept
You followed a map uncharted at best
A life re-invented and put through the test
It’s time, you thought, to worry no more
But there’s no more silence at the door







 


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Tears upon fear

My head is heavy
And your know where near
Our lives are slowly crumbling
And we're not there to hear

Sand bag to wall
We're there when each other fall
Release your load
Only so much you can take
Give it to me
I'll hold your world on my shoulders

Sandbag to wall
I'll do my best not to fall
In turn
I know we'll soon switch
My shoulders are in a slouch
And life's becoming too big of a bit©h

Your silent words spoken
Things said but not heard
A hoax in communication
A bridge thats now been burnt
Each lie and blameful word
Melted in a smoldering pot
Craters into your life
Strips you left with only a soul to show

The meteoroid was left standing there
Some what in tacked
But left a tear
Like a dagger in the heart
You refuse to take out
Time over time
The meteoroid has dissapeared
but still you imagine its there
Stuck in the past 
Your stubborn as a ass
When will you move on

We cleaned up the debris
Everyday we came by
Between each heart fulled hi and goodbye
We'd fill our baby up
Trying to help him get by
But no matter how hard we tried
He was just a hole

I look back to dusk
And see my blooming flower
So many bees all around
They were bound to sting
Ignore all signs and look at you now
After they all fly high
And leave you under the great blue sky

Everyday Ill come
And lay there with a rope
Waiting to pull you back
And carry you into a world of hope
Because I'm afraid  of your other ways to cope


 


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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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Learning from The Eagle

There is a reason as to why the eagle of king of all birds
It may be because he is the wisest of them all
For when the storms of life come
He merely spreads his wings 
And uses the energy of the destructive winds
...to effortlessly lift him up, higher and higher above it all
Where he hovers on calm and unperturbed
As all the birds below get drenched on their trees

One thing that one has to appreciate of the eagle
Is that it clearly fathoms its worth
For it lives on the highest tree on the tallest peak
Not down below like the chicken does
The chicken too does have its worth
...but it’s usually that which the owner sets on it
Whereas the eagle determines its own
And is bound by no variable except those it sets on itself

Two lessons thus arise
Always be wise enough to use the stormy winds of trouble
...directed your way with malicious intents or just by fate
	...to lift you even higher up to calmer levels
When all about you are losing their heads
Be sure to keep yours in check
When all about you are busy trying to outdo others in lashing tongues
...find yourself a beach and write down your slander, anger and curses in the sand
But never express them with your tongue
You will never be sorry for that which you didn’t say

Wise people see through life
...they see through today and into tomorrow
Do not look at your problems with a magnifying glass
...but with a powerful binoculars that sees far beyond
	...into the dreams and visions that are tomorrow bound to be
For the bottom line is
...we were born to live
	...and to live means being happy, always


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ ~ ~
Dedicated to my dear friend Andrea
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~ ~ ~




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The Eagle Escapes from the Chicken Pen

A little bit before the usual time
My mind dawned in spite of the short time dozed
I didn’t even plan to have it as I have
But least known to my thoughts
Today was the day long destined by fate to be mine

A few minutes passed as current affairs sipped into my mind 
Then somehow a pen found its way to my hand and with it I jotted the recipes
That was a few minutes to four a.m.
Least known to me the journey had begun

By the time my mind had emptied the facts on paper
I saw clearly that I couldn’t be a moment late
Yesterday my horoscope warned me against Sagittarius’ cautious ways
Since today seemed to be the day
I decided to let my carelessness spirit me away

Events driven frantically by rampaging heartbeats
Moments devoured hastily by anticipating anxieties
Scenery changed as did the imagery
And as magic would have it, here I now am
In a reality hundreds of miles away from yesterday’s realities
Seated on a bed in a cheap yet comfy boarding room
Planning, plotting, anticipating the beauty and liberties of a new reality

Today I feel free
Today I thank my spirit for driving me to this bliss
Today I seize the opportunity to crystallize my dreams
I am in the wake of my destiny
And for that I indeed do believe divinity endows me 
Tomorrow I hope to be led to the nest where my dreams shall be hatched

Today the eagle brood over by a chicken
Has escaped the meagre chicken pen to the beauty of freedom
Today the eagle is soaring free in the sky where it belongs
The sky where the spirits of achievements are high

Today I feel the wind soothe the muscles beneath my wings 
Today I feel the strength of my feathers
I have hope! I believe even more in my dreams
Today has washed away all my past sorrows
Today I forever bar away yesterday’s pains
And only usher in the joys of tomorrow
Today and the many today’s that shall follow
I shall live as only I can

Finally, my time to live has come
And to live I shall, only in the greatest way I can
Finally, I am glad to be a part of the heavens I used to see above
Finally, I’m rid of the worries those contented to be on the dust have
Finally, I’ve risen to earn my rights 
Finally, I can honestly thank and say I’m glad


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Liberty Street and Church Street

An eerie perception,"lets go,grab my hand, lets go......" as somber as midnight black
amid horrific pain the shrieking iron grinds upon iron in an imploding imbrication upon a 
clear autumn day, a feeling fugacious in hope , a plan surreptitious had arrived in the 
innocent morning sky, minutes to hours hour to days, a truth that would cry out 
evermore. An eerie perception, a voice screaming within...."lets go, grab my hand,
lets go......"
 
Upon his powdered white face, a stream of burgundy flow, his love, woebegone....
she lay deparate below within a black hell penumbra as chaos ran ramped above,
she struggled to move within an airless tomb, her arm stretched out in a desperate 
need, survival would become apparently clear, her fate would find a willing chance, a 
hero had come near, her life, would be blessed.....she would persevere....  

survival......perched at the edge of Liberty and Church street.  


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Monkey Business

I once got myself a monkey
(God knows what breed his was).
He was black, with dark, big eyes--
A devil-thing you could never pass.

Pearly-teeth shone in his mouth,
When you but pleased this thing;
We'd get-along well together,
(Me thought we could do with some training)
And, I tried teaching him
And taught him little tricks,
But my word! The poor thing,
Got rounded in the basics:

A few things of course, took him time,
While others, he could never learn:
Like when I said,"Sit Marcel",
He'd start to jump up and run...!
(Which wasn't quite the big deal,
For he was still learning what to do)
At least it was better than
When his filth I found in my shoe!

I coached him about 'toilet-culture'--
Taught him where men with a pot always rushed;
When that one day, on missing  my spects,
I found them only being flushed...

Nonetheless, we glued well as pals,
But for a diner's calamity:
When I ask him once,"Get me that rice",
He sat on the tray and chose to pee!

He sought a perch upon my head
So I always had unkempt hair;
He'd sit, digging deep and hard,
I don't know for what thing up there.
(A small cheery, childish thing,
He'd always place himself with me)
But if he'd not torn my favourite shirts,
I say, I'd be much, much happy...

We used to talk as great pals: 
He'd face me then, and play his part,
Although upon losing interest,
He'd slap me, scratch me, and cut me short!

This training and all friendliness,
Sure made each grow fond of the other
When I realized, he had to leave somehow
(Leaving  me to shrug and shudder):

As a final mischief of his,
He'd got himself in a dirty puddle,
Then placed himself in the cupboard,
Disturbing order to a state of muddle...!
When that I asked him to get down,
He looked at me somewhat askance;
As if he knew what it was--
The unpleasant thing that had come to chance...

The grin on that face I was to miss 
I know--the parting was like Hell...
He knew not what would change for us,
I still miss good ol'Marcel...


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In Your Grace, I Abide

For today I am here,			
Tomorrow shall appear,		
Though I yearn to be with You, Lord.
						
In Your grace I abide			
Through life’s valley’s I stride,		
Lost within my foolish pride.
						
When darkness fills the day, 
I seldom kneel to pray
To ask You for support.

I look up to the sky
And I want to know, why?
Where then is my Lord? 
I say.

On my own I’m alone
Terrified I hide, 
I run from You away. 
But, when all seems at its worst 
You come to me first, 
Through the solace of Your Word.

You rid from me forever
The chains of sin, You sever
In Your righteousness, I am clothed.

No deed of my own, 
By faith in You alone
Do I place my confidence. 

As I sleep soundly this night, 
May I wake in Your light, refreshed  
To greet a new day.		
 
	


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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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''Runaway Wanted''

I see my breathe.
Night has fell upon a frost.
Gods' chill lye now on my shoulders.
Alone yet not.
Silence now before the icey rain.
Surrender as my nervous teeth chatter.
For the warmth of a home is all that is desired.
My empty haven.
But,I am filled with a heart that is full.
Want nor wait.
Arms now cover me like a blanket.
Gust of wind has carried your unwaivered heart.
Candles lit a way to find what is left.
Merely an image of what once was.
Break down into a sob.
Remains frozen solid as climate has taken its' vengence.
I suffer no more,weak body.
Now only in spirit.
Shall I rest.


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RETURNS

Midst fear and doubt 
When prayers have ceased
Unannounced 
Without a sound
Returns the clouds
And falls the rain
Again on barren ground


…Jeff Bresee


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Shadowed by guilt and shame

Shame must have burned her countenance,
along with fear that gripped her heart;
she’s a woman in the gospel  brought into the open,
by those Pharisees and Sadducees in their attempt –
to entrap Jesus on the horns of a dilemma.

Known as legalistic in their respect for the Law of Moses,
they professed as guardians of moral principles;
they claimed as protectors of the Jewish traditions,
however, in truth, they had a wicked motive to ruin Jesus
to discredit him for all the things he’s doing for his own people.

His growing popularity especially to the Jewish men and women,
becomes a raison d’etre to ruin his good reputation;
oh, such a malady that continues to exist through generations,
the seed of original sin – its consequence to human behavior
reflected its aftermath, the evil tendency that is encrusted deep within.

Jesus’ statement, “let him who is without sin cast the first stone,”
made the religious leaders withdraw from the scene and,
starting from the elders they walked away and talked no more;
a sign of shame, an honest reaction to what is shadowed by guilt.

The entire incident focused on Jesus’ endless forgiveness,
his compassion for the woman being bogged down with disgrace;
like a moral stigma, a scarlet letter etched in the hearts of people,
with Jesus she had her past but she also has a future to look forward to.

Just as the prophet Ezekiel says, “I will give you a new heart –
and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone
and give you a heart of flesh . . .”  its power and meaning can assure,
God’s love is everlasting; our salvation is his prime concern. 




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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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What Could Be This Emotional

What was that liquid drops?
Could it be the sweat of the sky or probably, the tears of angels hiding behind the sky.
I peep through my window to stir at the lonely streets at dawn only to hear hens cackling in pairs and goats bleating undertone.
Is it that their caretakers refused them food?
What could be that emotional?

I searched for days without answer, till one day I figured the direction the sky was staring shyly at as well as the direction the farm animals were gossiping towards, only to see one little fellow murmuring to himself.
'Where could his parents be? ', I think to myself.
However, the story of the hen and the chicks dawn on me.
Weeks after being hatched, mother hen can no longer feed so many mouths besides hers. So it becomes an everyone for itself affair.
What could be that emotional?

Every night with the aid of the glowingly moon, he stares motionlessly at the Nelson Mandela billboard along the street with a tear in his eye.
I noticed he beats himself up first thing every dawn though he affords a smile every night lying at the bus stop.
Mornings indeed have its problems it comes with.
Has he no friend?
Perhaps the billboard and the sky would be.
What could be that emotional?

Should I invite him in for a cup of coffee or buy him new clothes for a change?
Doing just one for him cannot put a long lasting smile on his face.
Yes! , perhaps I could say a prayer for him, with the hope that the Compassionate Creator will send rain to wash away his tears, that the rain will make his grounds fertile and that the healing rain will heal his bruised heart.
What could be this emotional?


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Suture

It’s 3 am
I’m naked & naive
Undressed by shadows
Jetsam of scuttled me
I can feel their fingers
Howling down my back
Lightning crashes
Whispers
Your window cracked

Pull me in
Cast me out
Bleed the truth
Suture my mouth
If hope is dead
Then grieve with me
Caress their silence
Now we’re free

Do you see my face
Sewn by jagged night
My burdened brow
Scorn’s lurid light
Reaching for perfection
In this world we bend
Am I really
Their means to my end

Pull me in
Cast me out
Bleed the truth
Suture my mouth
If hope is dead
Then grieve with me
Caress their silence
Now we’re free

I have no sword
But my pen is spry
Cut me down
These words will rise
Hold my heartbeat
Breathe my last breath
Are you my savior
Am I your friend

Passion and persuasion
Nothing I hate is
Life is love
Your faith my payment


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Let it go

Dinner was over an hour ago
Counters wiped clean, dishes are washed and dried
I hold my glass up to the light like a color slide,
   and see the world, warped, and blurred through the half glass of rosy wine

It makes everything seem clearer, somehow, and sobers my mind

From our long silhouettes, we sit on the lawn, and gaze to the mountains,
                    talking quietly, and sipping the pink charodonnay

Dark of the shade seems to drink up the light of day

Summer carols being sung by two mourning doves, 
                    are accompanied by a choir of crickets in the dewy grass
                    calling for reverence in honor of a dying sun
  
Soft voices are lifted in still air
The pink light seems to paralyze time.

We have found kindness here, 
                     and somehow the grueling trials of the year
                     seem smaller than they did yesterday

Now the day turns toward the darkness
                     and we have rid our taste of the dry and bitter dust
                     of everything that has been said and done

The north wind shakes the trees
                      and the last leaf that clung so fast and tight
                      releases its grip, and disappears into the dusk

We shall never need to see where it lands 
                      for we  are  forbidden strangers to the dark
Let us remain friends with the light

Let us unclench our old resistance

And after we have finished the last drop of wine
                      we will turn, and go inside
                      and thank our stars
                      for the pungent taste
                      that yet lingers
                      on our tongues

                      in case
                      we might
                      need
                      proof 
                      that some years will harvest a bitter taste....

                      and  
                      some
                      years
                      will
                      harvest
                      a
                      crop
                      blessed
                      by
                      the
                      sun
                      

                      



_____________________________________
For Deb's Contest: "Referential" 
reference: Chris Aechtner's Poem:  unclench fists


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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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Witches Potions

I really can't stand
to feel anything at all.	
But being sober 
feelings begin to crawl.
Into my brain 
and than they invade my heart.
Why can"t they keep me
and my feelings apart?"
What am I supposed to do
with all of these emotions?
Is there something I can take?
Perhaps, some witches potions.
I get so confused
I thought I buried love.
Why did they dig it up?
Please, I've had enough.
Oh no, it seems I'm starting
to care about people again.
I know that care walked out on me 
just like most of my friends.
Please God deliver me
I don't think I can cope.
I pray it's not too much to ask.
But could I have a little hope?


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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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Divine Vision

Alone, I sank myself that night,
In prayer, deep, divine and true.
And in my mind, I saw a sight- 
A vision I was meant to view:

Amidst the acres- stretching land,
And before a palace great, 
I found myself, with Jesus, stand,
And gaze at what might be my fate.

A voice was heard- Him asking me,
"Is this your long-gone destiny?
Or is it up to you to leave 
It all behind and work for me?"

I thought no more and answered fast,
And chose to go with Him to life-
Life eternal, waiting, vast,
And full of bliss, but not a sigh!


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Resurrected By An Angel

When I wanted it all to end and there was no one there to help,
God sent an angel to my side to save me from myself.
"What about your family?" The angel said to me.
I am all alone in this world. I'm done. Just leave me be.
"God loves you even though right now you can't see it.
He has a plan for your life. Submit and just believe it."
How can God still love me after everything I have done?
"Well let me tell you,'For God so loved the world that He gave His only Son."
If He loves me so much then why did my life fall apart?
"Oh sweet child, could you not feel Him speaking to your  heart?
Have some faith in Him. Don't make your parents bury you.
If you trust fully in Him, when you can't walk He will carry you."
Ok I will give in to Him. I submit to His will.
My legs have grown so weary from fighting this battle uphill.
"Now you will never be alone. He will always stand by your side,
So when life gets rough again you won't have to run and hide.
Stand firm in your salvation. Stand firm and do what's right.
For God will change your heart so you can walk out of the dark into the Light."


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Hope Less but Hopeful

Tranquility inside;
Tenderness within;
That’s my home, 
My mommy’s womb.

Fervently coveting to unite;
With the near and dear;
Certainly, shall indeed arise as a limelight;
Anxiously until…..

I heed loud screams, hue and cry;
Began to toss rapidly within,
Mommy began to run quickly thereby;
Panic-stricken, I continued to tailspin;

Alas!!! It was my last gulp of air;
I lay within, soundless;
My ideas and dreams devastated;
Mom rested speechless;
Dad howled deafeningly in pain;
He is missing me and so am I;

Those gigantic waves gushed in;
Took my breath away;
Took my dreams away;
Tsunami was the cause;
Helpless were numerous;
Effects were agonizing;
I lay cold;
I lay within;

God....
Why me?
What have I done?
Why have I been castigated?
Why can’t I talk to dad and mom?
Why have my dreams been shattered?
Why can’t I be there to explore the world?

Unanswered are these questions…..
I still lay rigid….

Tears flowing….
Hoping to get an answer;
Hoping to convince god;
I want to go back;
Back to the place where I came from;
A place full of dreams and aspirations
A place full of love and affection;

Alas!!!
I still lay cold
I still lay within…


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Honor of Friendship-Part One

08/20/2012
---------------------
In glowing light you saturate them in words of precious gold, honors adorned by you electing them to be your true friends. Telling me that you adore them, love them, so; that they listen quite often to what you say, that you can tell them anything without fear of them judging you and all the while I listen to such high praise. As you bestow upon them the highest honor one can receive from you-the gift of true friends- I listen, but I can’t help it as my mind wonders ‘where do I fit among those you praise’? Between the lines I remain, unsure as to where I truly belong.
Can I find myself; the monster, the witch, amongst these silver knights of yours, or shall I stay hidden, beside myself watching, loving, caring for you from afar?
I never really know just where I stand; I don’t know what or who I am to you.
But on you go about them, your true, amazing friends as I listen, secretly listening wish I too, could make you so happy. I hope that maybe someday, you will see just what you mean to me, that you’ll understand you are my one true friend-My best friend. The only one who has stayed by my side? And I’ll continue to listen to you. Continue to read all you write for the others, and I’ll continue to give you all I have until you hold the entirety of my heart in your hand until there’s nothing more of me but emptiness and all I have you shall receive, as it’s reserved for just you until the very last breath I have leaves me.
Never will you really know how your lack of words is so much louder than any words that could ever be spoken. But still I keep everything for you because you are everything to me-my best friend, the only one to have ever stuck around…I so wish I could do the same, but I am not like the others. I am the nothing that fills the empty space around you, the nothing that hovers and clings to you like a leech. I am a nobody, a nothing but a ‘someone’…
A someone unknown to most, a someone who cannot express a damned thing in a way that makes sense.
But still I sit by you, I stand by your side and hope you know I am here for you; always here forever. If ever you need someone to lean on, someone to carry you up the mountain of turmoil…I will.


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" I 'AM"

Its dark cold and wet below
I'am all alone does anyone know?
I fell the warmth of my padded earth;
Trying to make out what life is worth.

I wonder what's up there?.......how will I know?
It must be good from that great glow.
HeY! I broke through....I can see.....
There is more around than just me.
Ah,what a releif I'am not alone;
I see others small like me too growing strong.

It feels so good to be on top.....but I am still growing, will I ever stop?
Up,up,up and out is how I go,in heat,rain,wind or snow.........
Alas........I AM.


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Untold Story

Walkin barefoot in the streets of an infested city,
  could'nt find mercy or any with pity.
Lookin for love, had given up hope,
 Everything lost for the price of my dope.

Pain and grief my only friend, looking for a closer end.
 Sitting on the city bus, humilitation was a must.
Uncontrolled, the tears to the ground,
 and man named mesu' came to sit down.

He spoke gently, wiping the tears with his hand.
 Stunned because I did not know this man!
Jumping away after he kissed my face,
 I ran to the driver, but mesu' was gone with no trace.

Sitting back down in my devastation,
 sitting next to me a track from the book of revelation.

 "He will wipe every tear from their eyes,
there will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things 
has passed away."


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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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Jar of Love and such

She walked around this earth with a jar filled with love
Dipping into its commodities when she saw someone in need of

a smile, encouragement, understanding and compassion
Her jar was always running over bringing others satisfaction

Oneday while on a daily routine she saw a tattered old man
Sleeping on a bench, in his right hand he had an aluminum can

She dipped into her jar and pulled out a mysterious note
She had held it for quit sometime a poem she had long ago wrote

She parked her car around the way
It was a cold and rainy November day

Then walked up quietly to this sleeping guy
and suddenly formed tears in her sensitive eyes

She took the poem from out of her jar
Put it inside his portable bar

Then quickly tip towed away
Hoping to God he would read what it had to say

The poem was a love letter to anyone
That had given up on life and had completely shunned

the world out because of many horrible trails
The poem was written to encourage someone and inspire

It was signed with just a smile and a phone number too
A nearby church and rehab center who

Took men in for absolutly free 
helped them to discover who they were really meant to be,

A week later this girl drove that same way
There was no sign of this man she so often saw on that bench during the day

A month later, on a Sunday morning she could not believe her eyes
She was in church and to her surprise

The same old man that had been dirty, drunk and out of social reach
Stood in front of this giant congregation and made a beautiful speech

All bright, clean and with tears in his eyes
He told a story about an angel who stopped him from suicide 

He said there had to be a God for he woke to take his last sip
And in his “jar” of beer he found a poem and decided to read it

And now he had been sober for thirty days
He found his two lost sons and he just wanted to give God praise

This girl and her "jar" never said a word
She just sat in her chair as her soul sang like a bird

So never be afraid to carry goodness in your life jars
For you never know when you may be a persons saving star!!!


Sabina Nicole
Written:1-17-12
Based on The contest :JARS


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hello Jesus I'm Johnny Cash

                         
                         hello Jesus I’m Johnny Cash
                         its been a long and winding dusty road
                         that I have traveled to get here
                         I know that I have stepped off 
                         the right path a few times in my life
                         but I have known and loved you since 
                         I was just a little boy
                         I really hope that that counts for something
                         in my life I have tried to do the best I can
                         to help and be of comfort to my fellow man 
                         by my deeds and my songs 
                         the talent that you gave to me
                         I pray I have used it well and made you proud
                         singing for my supper in the beginning was not easy for me  
                         one of the greatest gifts that I ever received from you
                         and I believe that you had something to do 
                         with finding the love of my life my wife June
                         I thank you for that gift that changed me for the better
                         June was the wind beneath my wings
                         I have always known she was an angel 
                         from heaven you sent to me
                         I stand before you at the gates of heaven 
                         a humble man with hat in hand
                         my hope is that you will let me into heaven
                         and be invited to join your band

                        
                         
                         
                         
                         
                       
                        
                         
                       
                          
                        
                         
                        
                         
                        
                  
                         
            


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Looking Back

Dedicated to my children who have kept my dreams alive.

LOOKING BACK We can’t go back To the days of yesteryear To capture those lost feelings With those whom we loved so dear I am just looking back to see Where all of my dreams first start You know those deep seeded dreams Buried way down deep in your heart I’m not trying to revive a lost love That I once had forty years ago Or even trying to replace the twenty years Of not seeing my grandchildren grow There were times of much struggle Filled with pain, fear and torture It was the love I had for my children That developed my strength to endure My children only remember the 2nd set Of twenty years that have come and gone When they were all moving out on their own And when all of the grandchildren came along It’s like I was locked in a rock Throughout those 20 to 40 years Not able to see my grandchildren Filled my heart with so many tears The bitterness you feel towards me Is understandable and really okay My children, you all have the right To your feelings and to feel that way I have finally made the escape Since that rock has split wide open I want you all to know who I really am I haven’t changed at all, only my situation The gift of feelings we have in our heart Whether right or wrong, just happen It matters not what others may think We should let out our own self expression No feelings are really ever wrong In another’s view or even our own Our thoughts trigger our feelings inside The feelings we have are ours alone Looking back strengthens my heart Reminding me I want to pass along To all of you, just who I really am Before my time on earth is gone One day I hope you will realize With you I have always been Filling you up with that extra love You may have noticed you’ve been given You have all filled up Such a big part Of all the dreams Living in my heart My best friend Grace, reminded me That our feelings are meant to be and to last God wouldn’t put the dreams in our heart If He didn’t plan to bring the dreams to pass My dreams haven’t changed I am not letting them go They are for new adventures With new beginnings of tomorrow Now that I’m looking back I’m so glad to have survived I know now, my love for all of you Has always kept my dreams alive Florence McMillian (Flo)


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Stentorian in our hearts

The song still reverberates
with a clarion call to everyone
love as its predominant cry
embodies the message of being human.

It’s also what the gospel says
in Christ the Lord, our Model,
who always tells his disciples
love God and one another.

An act of charity or act of love,
shows already what God is all about;
through him we  become part of his kingdom.

However, a radical response implies,
especially at the major crossroads
when we don’t get along well
with our companions or friends in our lives.

To love our enemies can be hard
when our vulnerability is hurt
and even tested in a number of times
It’s really a test of faith, a challenge indeed.

St Luke in his gospel says, ‘love your enemies,’
‘pray for those who mistreat you,’ 
involves a huge amount of renunciation,
emptying and saying , ‘all for the Lord.’

Pride causes everything to get crippled
from within where the heart dictates us
never mind and ‘bury the hatchet now’
because God himself did it himself for us all.

Like those crooked lines deep within us
are lines that depict envy, hatred and anger;
through our efforts and God’s assistance
we can straighten them in a gradual way.

The historical figure of Christ,
our measure in today’s world;
he’s the compendium and source of all
that love we share to everyone.


Note:

Stentorian means extremely loud


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Can This Be Love

Can This Be Love
 
It seems that I am nowhere
Am I floating in the air?
Or is it the love I felt?
When you asked for my name.
 
Did I heard it right?
Or I’m just in my damn side?
I hope to see a bright light
To help me realize if it’s right.
 
I was a little bit shocked
I lost my memory or just blocked
I just can’t believe it’s true
That my fantasy came true.
 
When you sat beside me
Suddenly you held my hand
I felt an electricity
Flowing into my veins.
 
Can this be love I felt?
Is it love you also felt?
I hope your answer is: “Yes.”
‘Coz for me
I think, it’s a: “Yes.”


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It is Here Again

It is Here Again

By BJ Welsh

It’s raining and raining as requested
The thought I’ve just really digested
Watching and staring as the raindrops fall
Who do you think would miss me after all?

I sit and wonder without nary an expression
Days pass to weeks with only further digression
Time it seems is not on my side
The rain I pray will never ever hide

Rain used to be such a welcome sight
To clean the earth from dirt and its’ blight
Now I look for only grey clouded skies
Matching the look and sadness in my eyes

The rain it seems must never ever end
For which it is my only dearest friend
I seek it out with such joy and delight
Watching and waiting sometimes all night

The rain’s come again to see me through
This life of misery is well past due
It’s soothing and a welcome pleasure too
For which I have but very few

Tomorrow is another day for rain?
I can only hope I’m still here and sane
To live to see it is but a dream
I’m not long for this world, or so it would seem







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Why Church called Catholic

Church is a she Bride of Father Christ Church is Catholic Church is people Catholic related to the whole Greek kat’holon Father Christ called Profess whole faith Preserve all Sacraments To administer To proclaim Good News Sent her to all nations (YOUCAT) 4092013


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Church View Other Religions

Church view other religions Church respects other religions That is good and true She respects and promotes freedom of religion Human right Effect of the Truth will be seen later She knows Father Christ, sole redeemer of mankind He alone is “the way, the truth and the life” ([St.] Jn 14 : 6) (YOUCAT) 4092013


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Four Words, One reason

I knew what it said before I even opened it
But when I unfolded the letter, it hit
Water washing over me, coming undone
Instantly forgetting everything we were to become
Those thoughts and you were in the past
My prayers unanswered on hoping this would last
I threw away the pain and the matches
Blowing the flame, before the fire would catch us
we were already burning before you even left
Forty three days and I still haven't slept
Thoughts of us just kept keeping me awake
Next time I would fall away before you could take
what isn't yours, now I'm here on your street
What am I going to prove, is this even for me
Or for the satisfaction of its self 
Or for you to go through pure hell
Like I did, if you read this I hope you know
I would have said something as I watched you go
My words were not vocal, better through poem
Whoever is reading this, I hope you never know him


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The sapling and the wood

The sapling and the wood..                   Steve Hudson

What would I tell my sons if my days were soon ending?
I would tell them:
Oh my dear precious sons
Our time on this earth is too short,
My eyes dim for a moment, only to brighten on larger frames,
With your heads on my chest, I embrace you, afraid of letting go,
Wanting to spare you from the world I left behind, with its terrors of the night,

Sometimes life will cut you down
You will feel like you can’t carry its burden
And hope may lose all definition
But find your heart in the face of doubt and uncertainty.

For you have a father who loves beyond measure
Here on earth, and in Heaven,
A father who will never stop fighting for you, believing for you
Pursue the one thing that makes you come alive
And be that to the world around you,
May Jesus Christ be the center and purpose of your very being.
For nothing on this earth will satisfy like the Bread of Life.
If you’re afraid, do it anyway, 
And know that if its right, whatever happens because of it
Is worth the outcome.

Never lose the wonder of the first time,
Live with honor, valor and passion,
Be the men you want others to be
Walk in such a way, that they would not quickly try you,
Though such would quickly follow you to the end.

Know that I have done my best for you with what I had,
My hope is that it was enough.


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Trepidations

In my golden sunken eyes

In see the future of my life

Fraught with uncertainty

A name without sanctity

I made a world of desires.

Lost along the line of fires

A dreadful isolated life,

Where I had so long survived

The showdown begins with the start

The ray of hope falling from my heart

I pray for the grave which death promises to take

The life that my destiny gave

The endless voyage ended with despair

Oscillating between hope and despair

Now I sleep in complete silence

A soul free from turbulence…

 

 

MY MATERNAL AUNT DIED IN YR 2003 JUNE OWING TO LIVER CANCER. I LOVED HER 
SO MUCH AND I WILL NOT HESITATE CONFESSING THAT I LOVED HER MORE THAN MY 
MOM....I JUST PHRASED HER WORDS . [PUBLISHED IN 2007 DECEMBER - TIMES OF 
INDIA]
 
 Leighann Anderson's contest ''  Sea of Words''


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The King of Charm

The King of Charm I have searched for and wondered Just who my prince charming would be You know the one who was made Specifically for me He will want to treat me Like I am the very best He will make me feel like I’m better than all of the rest He will really want to hold me Not only when I ask him to It will just be something He truly wants to do The kisses he gives to me Will be so very sweet That I’ll tingle all over From my head to my feet His love for me Will be so real That I’ll know how A woman should feel He will be my soul mate Though I have had one before We never shared our life together So this time will certainly be more It’s as if the journey Goes on and on again As if it’s in a spin cycle Without reaching an end I’m really in a higher category As a friend pointed out to me I actually need a level above Who a prince charming would be Now the next level up From a prince charming love Would have to be a king’s status So that’s why I’ve only had love duds I may only be the queen of drama As is what my friend actually said It still carries the category of a queen So those are the steps I’m going to tread Now I am turning in a new direction Away from those prince charming men They seem to be galloping all around me Just not meeting the criteria of my searching So it really must be the king of charm The one who will find true love with me Together we will share our dreams of life And live together forever very happily Florence McMillian (Flo)


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Limitless Lust

Introduction: Limit itself has a limit of its own…


A walk, mile after mile
In quest for my lost soul,
I had forgotten how to smile
Everything felt out of control,
I fought too hard to be worthwhile
By that I got lost in my life’s hole

The regrets for mistakes I’ve made
It took me off the edge, way too far away;
Yet I tried again so hard to get off from that shade
But got caught up in my brutal fray,
The same song keeps playing with such a vicious rage,
I find myself down to my knees, nowhere to go - So I pray

A prayer to leave the worst and move onto more,
Come off this fantasy and onto reality, to be -
Closer to something I’ve been fighting for
The touch of the light cutting through the night, it rains down upon me
As I overcome the grief and believe, recovery lies ashore,
Only three steps remain, to be fixed and free.

A lesson of value I earned from my faults -
Never push yourself off the edge,
You’ll lose the only key to the vault
A life you never had to live – It too could forever be lost,
So stay confined within the limits of the limit
As it seems - Your control over lust, only can make you complete.


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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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Scars

.The survivors. Yes, that's what we call ourselves. We've lived through the terrors of life. 
Gentle hands, soft spoken, safe in his arms. Obey, and listen, and the swirling melody of 
love plays throughout the scene. And yet, this masquerade is always broken to reveal the 
truth. Words sharper than daggers explode around our ears. Bruises appear on our skin. 
We've "fallen", the clumsy females we are. We fell. A sports injury, a car crash, a freak 
accident. Freak accident of hatred. Much like the lion, quiet and stalking, and then exploding 
into a flurry of the hunt. Of the hurt. Swift blows, and blood drips from noses, tears stream 
from eyes in a silver river of desperate please, bruises decorate us in tawnys and majestic 
purples. Reminders of our "wrong doings". We need to pay for our sins. The only witness are 
the walls, and the moonbeams that dance about our dizzy heads. On the ground. Steel toes 
to the back. A crack. Fire. Pain. And then, a cool silence. The rage subsides, and apologies 
appear. "I'll never do it again" and "I lost control" replay in the back of our heads. Our deja-
vu from the previous night. Always the same. Always the pain. The survivors. Thats what we 
call ourselves. And by the dark dance of the moon against the velvet sky, as stars twinkle 
like sequins, and fade into the dawn, we pick ourselves up. New excuses. New plates to buy. 
A new alarm clock. New knives, doors, but no new hearts, stabbed until the hemmoragging 
hurts like a firestorm. Alone. We are alone. We, the Survivors, have lived not an apocalypse, 
not a plane crash, but the darkest part of our lives. Therapy can lock it away, but never 
remove the dark stain of dried blood upon our souls. Lost. We come together, and escape. 
We start anew, but are never the same. Dark dreams, paranoia haunting our shadows, and 
the jumps that come with shattered glass of the clink of dishes. Never the same, but 
stronger. What doesn't kill you is sure to leave a horrible scar, but wounds heal And while 
scars remain as a reminder of the pain endured, we are, for the better, stronger. We 
survived.

.


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Traveling Through the Fog

From time to time We all run into A fog of some kind Yes, even you do Your path becomes A big thick haze And then for some The mind reaches a daze Uncertainty can get you When it is so unclear Obscuring the view All around so near A type of trap maybe Inside a clouded mass Blinding the vision we see As if the fog will not pass I travel through just fine For me that’s when it seems To be my most favorite time To dream the impossible dreams When times are the toughest Where the darkest moments are Mountains are climbed highest And I reach for the brightest star Not one thing will stop me From dreaming of tomorrow My hopes go as high as can be Tossing away thoughts of sorrow We all pass through A bit of fog sometime Just remember it is true The sun will again shine Florence McMillian (Flo)


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'Dream in color'


I walked away with my mind and body in tact yet again my heart was bruised I didn't even realize how badly this time until I sat down and analyzed my thoughts my whole being felt torn will it ever get to its previous state of pretension? I guess the only one way to find out Is to unearth my treasure trove try and close my eyes see if I get to dream in color tonight if I get that right, I’ll start anew in the morning the hope and promise of seeing a new day Inspired by Linda Marie’s Treasure Trove Contest Written by: Wilma Neels
©040320122115


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THE LESSON REVISED

met a man that had no shoes,
druken and pathetic.
looked as if he's nothing to lose,
 and i felt so sympathetic.
i thought that it would help,
 if i offered  him some change
 but he looked at me and laugh
 which i really thought was strange
 he said young man you know nothing about me 
,or why i live like i choose,
 for i am happy just the way things are,
 and i need no pity from you ,
i never harmed anyone ! 
never begged borrowed or robbed
, -for i'll have everything i could dream-
 as long as i have faith in God,
so go ahead with your money
and put it towards something worth while
 trust me i have plenty
for i am my father's child 
by meeting that old man 
i learned a very important lesson that day
before you judge you must first understand
what brought them to be that way
so i left that day with alot in mind
to not be so judgemental of the people i meet
for who knows at any giving time
that could be me living in the streets


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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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Alzheimer's



A quandary of memory 
stands here before me, 
with yesterday's long gone.
Fifty years ago, 
just like the minute before; 
I started this life long poem.
There's times it seems, 
the probable things, 
are lost on the tip of my tongue.
Every ladder I've climbed, 
is left behind,
pushed to years ago when I was young.
My friends let me know,
every detailed episode,
that pulls at my confused brain.
Is it present or past, 
and this time will it last,
never my mind to return to this day.
Solitude is my enemy,
but then again a friend to me,
for it's where I find in my mind,
the things I find so dear to me,
as I travel once more;  back in time.


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cant live my life without you

Tell me have you ever loved someone that no matter what they did you still needed 
them by your side?... Slipping slowley loseing my mind... Always thinking about 
you... but wondering baby why cant i just do things right?.... But i can see it now 
and i see it when i look into your eyes,... that i dont deserve you in my life.... soo 
many nights ive sat and fought with you, not even realising that at any moment i 
could lose you... never admiting that i made mistakes,.. not knowing more as for the 
tears falling down your sweet face,... But some times love is hard too recognise 
even when you can see it with your own eyes,... why do i feel this way in my life?... 
why cant i just run and hide?... hide away from the pain ive given too you,.. tell me why cause i dont deserve someonelike you?


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What Have We Become

I took a walk in the city 
watched the people that I passed. 
Took a real good look 
then started to do the math. 

Not many paid the time 
to give a smile or even a nod. 
Barreling right through my path 
chins tucked down, ears plugged in 
barely stepping to the side. 

How is it we’ve become so disconnected 
from our fellow man... 
plugged in 
turned on 
zoned in 
turned up 
tuned out 
Too bothered with our devices… 
checking in 
chatting up 
updating our pages 
Distracted from the world around us. 

I pondered all of this as I went 
the lack of courtesy of years gone by. 
Realizing how accustom we’ve become 
with just civility, even on that you can’t rely. 
When now a simple please or thank you 
has become a rare affair. 

So as I walked the sun got higher 
the morning streets filled up. 
And a woman caught my eye 
with large boxes piled high. 
I could see she only managed just 
so I did a quick check round. 
There were plenty men to spare 
But not a single one offered aid 
not a helping hand was found. 
None could bother to be delayed 
as they continued on their way. 

Gone the days of curtsy 
a tip of the hat is just not that 
of something you still see. 
Chivalry is dead they say 
and I’m starting to believe. 
The manners that once were 
are gone and never to be seen. 

That what started as a silly game 
a way to pass the time. 
Quickly turned my day a sour, 
damaging my confidence 
in that of our mankind. 

I decide to treat myself 
before heading home. 
A little coffee pick me up 
is sure to get me feeling fine. 

As I reached for the door 
there’s a hand that brushes mine. 
Looking up I see a handsome guy 
with a flash of smile in his eye. 
“After you!” he says 
and gestures to go ahead. 
I thank the man, somewhat stunned 
and make my way on by. 

Warm with its creamy taste 
I savor my hot treat. 
And think maybe, just maybe 
death has yet to come 
to common decency. 



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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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My World

when i think of my world its all a dream
in my dream world people don`t just come and go
but in the regular world they do\

i wish this world had people last forever
i would`ve never thought i would be facing realiity
where i wouold have to see my grama go and disappear


now i see theres a time where people get sick and might have to pass away
until then you going to have to deal with it in the only way that you can 
and my way is talking about writing about my feelings in poem 

sometimes i just think that life can be a preiouse thing or i might just say sometimes life can 
be thorn up and thrown away. i just dont get why when people are close to you they just die and go away.
some say to a better place is it true 

some may say its crazy to question a thing like that or they might even say that you won`t get in to heavean like that
but what i belive is that there is one but not everyone always get in the place called heavean.  depends on there soul.. but i hope when the times write when the time comes her precouice soul will be protected by a such thing callled i dont know God. i dont  question it i know i belive in it but i do wonder sometimes about it. is it true what they say or just they saying mytholical things so everything can blown away

i watch people abandon 
i watch someone die 
i even watched a women who lived a lie
i know whats wright 
i know whats wrong but tell me this is whats right not wtong

im confused im depressed help me now so i can be happy as an lovely dove if best

            writen for hope to anyone that lost someone that was really close to them 
R I P my loving grandma


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A Declaration of Love

My wife maintained her spirit and humor all through the pre-op preparation process.  She 
joked and laughed with the nurses, assistants and doctors as they poked her, pushed her, squeezed her, took blood, took measurements, poked her some more and basically, just abused the hell out of her in preparation for what we knew was a serious operation.

Many of the healthcare professionals did not know what to make of her smiling face, 
sarcastic tone and bubbling humor as they were all well aware of the seriousness and risks involved with the upcoming surgical procedure.  But her good humor was unwavering.

In the six months since her dissection and the two months since the decision to perform this operation, my wife did her homework.  She knew exactly how serious her condition was and the risks involved with this necessary operation.  And yet, she kept her spirits high and her optimism never dipped.

When the anesthesiologist came out just minutes before they rolled her into the operating room and explained, for what seemed like the one thousandth time in the last two weeks, the risks and seriousness of her procedure, for the first time, I noticed signs of fear on her face and saw tears well up in her eyes. 

Holding my hand as we approached the operating room where I was to be left behind, she looked up at me and said, “Take care of yourself and our Spencer”.  The doors swung close and the six hour operation commenced.

It’s now seven days later and Cindy is well on her way to a full recovery.  The doctors could not be more pleased with how the surgery went and with the rapidity of her recovery.  There is no reason to believe that, within 8 – 10 weeks, she cannot be back to her normal, active self.

She is back to joking, being sarcastic and a regular pain in everyone’s ass – she is slowly 
becoming Cindy again.

I will never forget, however, in the one second of fear and worry, how her concerns were 
about the well-being of me and our son – and, not about herself.

I love you Cindy Flach.

And, I hope that if you ever decide to read any of my poems – given you do not understand my obsession with writing these silly things – I hope like hell, you choose to read this one.

Welcome home, love.


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ANOTHER CHANCE FOR REDEMPTION AND SALVATION

Trumpets sounded loudly towards dusk
as they did in ancient times,
to warn all warriors of an imminent battle,
there I saw throngs of angels
with glorious Jesus in their mist....
a thick book was opened by Gabriel;
below, Satan was waiting for the condemned souls.
A huge crowd looked up gleefully
and was raptured as He called out their names,
I waited and waited, but there's was
no mention of mine through those pages;
could have Jesus, so perfect and just,
have overlooked, or forgotten to call it... 
I wasn't mistaken..it wasn't called!
I looked inside to scrutinize my non-so-spotless conscience,
and guilts of past deeds surfaced instantly
as the remains of a ship-wreck floating on a turbulent sea;
and to realize this tragedy, it took plenty of tears!
I wept and no one heard me, but Lucifer was hysterical and joyful
to have won and ready to torment me in Hell.
Oh, no...did Dante describe it well, if he had never seen it?
Horror, fright, despair, darkness and crackliing flames
were the awful feelings and eerie images of that vision too ambiguous.
I fell on my shivering knees and cried out:
" Lord didn't you promise from the cross,
 "You will be with me in Paradise, today?"
"If you forgave the Good Thief, why can't you forgive me?"
There's was no reply from the Savior whose blood
had the power to cleanse all inequities with His sacrifice...
I called out again with a frightened, louder voice,
"Lord, my Redeemer, have you searched for the other stranded sheep
which can't find his way back; is he stuck in a shrub with thorns?"
I looked around and all the raptured people followed Jesus,
leaving me behind as Lucifer laughed and danced down below,
but a terrible thought came to me, " Was I going to be his next victim, 
and allow my flesh to eternally burn in that abyss called Inferno?"
The first shadows dimmed the orange-colored sky,
I started to yawn and suddenly I fell asleep. When I woke up,
I saw Christ, the Redeemer and King, leaning over me softly saying,
" I haven't forgotten about you, Andrew...I wanted you to feel
the disappointment of not being raptured and saved;
even an imperfect person like you can enter my kingdom, if his heart repents.
My sacrifice is enough to wash your past and present sins with my shed blood."
My awe and disbelief surpassed the realm of my reality...
yes, indeed I had another chance for redemption and salvation! 

 




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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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MY TREASURE BENEATH THE TIDES

The murky rolling waves subject
to the whims of the February's wind, 
far above the secluded lighthouse;
the roaming aircrafts vanish through thick clouds,
leaving behind a trail of hazardous vapors...
but the geese and seagulls can't continue their existence!  

And still the sea offers them its promise,
a distant shore untouched by man...
by his greedy ways and incompassion,
causing the extinction of many species;
my reflection is based on fact :
we can't survive without them!

The stylish wild birds engage,
as if striken by a sudden rage,
in their frantic, daily dance over the marina,
as I listen the melancholic lyrics of  " Nessun Dorma "...  
the exquisite area of Puccini,
which comes alive through the extraordinary voice of Bocelli!
   
 At four the fog thickens and shrouds the shoreline,
the brass lampposts light up with reluctance...
to shy away the presence of any ghost; 
I, in transitive joy, hide my treasure beneath the tides,
hoping someone will find it  and remember my work... 
long after my thoughts will be no longer alive! 


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Rays of Hope

While in a gloomy dream of loss
With not a single smile or cheer,
My heart bearing a heavy cross,
My mind overgrowing with fear,

A radiant shine I saw amidst 
My darkest, deepest sea of tears,
Calling out to me as if 
It had a knowledge of my fears.

Oh, how I longed for such a bliss, 
To save me from my deep distress.
Had I not searched, I just could miss
This beam of light, I do confess.

But long it took to realize
The glory of this glowing hope,
Divine, the face of Jesus Christ
Who held towards my hands, a rope.

A rope of faith and bliss it was,
That reached to me for my relief.
But doubt filled my mind because
Of this weak soul's lack of belief.

I paused and thought, "Is this my way?
Is He the Savior of my day?"
Then filled with guilt, I told myself,
"He saved me when I lay astray."

Free of hesitation, I 
Leaped with faith and caught the rope,
Needless to say that till I die,
I'll hold on tight to that good hope.


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TRAPPED IN THE FOG

Can somebody please explain to me?
Why is it that she hates what she sees?
A seemingly perfect life
She is forced to hide behind a smile
Scared to face the truth
With a glance in the mirror, she doesn’t recognize her own reflection
A young girl’s view so distorted she feels so lost
Terrified to disappoint, she forces herself to smile
The girl trapped inside, so desperate to break free
And with every passing moment, the beauty inside begins to fade
It fades further and further away
She has lost herself
So desperate to belong, yet she is unable to move on
Unaware of the damage she has caused, she lives in a dream
She is trapped in the fog
She continues to live her seemingly perfect life
Never showing the fear
Never showing the pain
Never showing the tears, she hides from herself
Her reality is one where the truth can no longer be found
Why is it that no one can see the beauty of the girl trapped inside?
Why it is that no one can see that this girl is me??


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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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As It Rains

Today would be the perfect day
To call out of work
And laugh & play
As the bed lays 
against the window pane
I can hear each drop
As we lay
As it rains

Just the two of us
Trying to keep warm
I breathe your kisses into my lungs
And they heal a heart that’s been torn

You make me so happy
After pain attacked me
But each rain drop explodes
As you grab me

Your kisses to my forehead
Bring tears down my face
I have a bleeding heart
That has been saved
As we lay,
As it rains...


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God or Father Christ

Apostle is a priest
Eternal Son is the Apostle of Eternal Father
Eternal Father gave the name Christ when He was baptized by St. John the Baptist
He ordered the 12 apostle to preach His Gospel

He was the Highest Priest of the Universal Church
Universal means Catholic or Roman Catholic
There is a purgatory
Yes, purgatory is in the bible

The 2nd book of Maccabees, Old Testament
Purgatory or Purification
Intellectually understood 
All as in everybody should be under Eternal Son’s Universal Church

Eternal Son is the Highest Priest of the Catholic or Roman Catholic Church
It is for the righteous to call Eternal Son Father Christ
Eternal Father is in Him
Father Christ sends the Holy Spirit


Christians will be in the Purgatory
Until they learn from their Initiation before going to heaven
On earth is called Rite of Christian Initiation for Adults R.C.I.A. to be the true Christian
Three types are slain

Father Christ is the pathway to heaven
To face Eternal Father and the Divines
It is my job to inform everybody
Visit www.fatherchristdivinetruth.org to know more


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i am a dreamer

She cud feel the attraction between them, 
She took a step closer to him, 
It was like a magnet was pulin her towards him, 
His warmth was like a blanket put on her to keep
 her warm in a winter nyt... 

His breath was warm, 
But it made her feel cold. 
All she wanted was to tuk into his warm arms. 
When he took her in his arms, 
Her world stopped, 
it was all she needed. 

She felt as if she was dreaming, 
She was a dreamer, 
Today she was in a dream, 
A dream she wudnt want to wake up from. 
The feeling came from within her 
She felt her heart dancing, shaking, 
She loved the feeling, everything was clear to her now. 

She cud feel the love... 
Even tho she had neva experienced
 anything of ths kind b4, 
she knew it was love 
Everything felt so real to her. 
He had a smooth touch, 
His lips were sweet nd wet. 
She wud love to keep them locked in his 
for as long as tym cud allow it. 

He talked to her, 
Now she realised that it all is real, 
She is not dreaming. 
His words were those of love. 
He was expressing his undying love for her. 
She felt his presence in her life. 

He was, he is wat she needs, 
She is in a real world with him 
And that's all that matters to her, 
He is the main reason for her everyday smile. 
She put her arms around him 
She kissed him back and smiled. 

She is in love with him too...


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Modern Proverb 7

~
Faith, is the antithesis of proof


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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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Not the Better One

She’s the better one
Beautiful and what you deserve
Comparison is not an option
A rock to a diamond
I make little to none shine
And she can make mountains
Upon a hill of grind

Full with hate of what I've become to day
Disgusted with the monster
That’s been created an atomic bomb
And I feel all the shame
Wishing to change everyday
I am a nothing compared to that

Perfect is what she is
Cute is what you two are
Monstrous is what I am
Killing is what you’re doing
Burning away every dream is what’s happening
She is better one
Wishing it was me
She is the better one


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Escape From a Sinkhole

Escape From a Sinkhole There is a friend of mine He is so very dear to me His smile is like sunshine Friends we will always be He has a heart that is very kind Where others take advantage of Since love tends to really be blind Usually the use is mistaken for love One day when he was helping someone By pulling that person out of a sinkhole He didn’t see his ground caving in some As he pulled, his strength was taking its toll The one who he was helping, didn’t even see That the ground around him was caving in Well I was there, it just so happened to be So I began to pull him from that situation He is just about out of that hole right now As we keep working on setting him free We will figure it out someway somehow For him to get above ground eventually The escape from a sinkhole is hard to do Unless you have a special hand to lend Coming from one, you can hold on to That is only found within a true friend Florence McMillian (Flo)


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THE DAY HER LIFE WENT ASTRAY

The day her life went astray
Just two days before her big day
Barely a teen, unaware of the battle soon to be seen
So adored by all, the first to be there for anyone about to fall
She now wakes up everyday just to find herself wondering why
Was it because of her past that she was destine to crash

She wakes up everyday
Simply to find herself wondering why
Each day the event becoming clearer
Like watching it unwillingly through a two-way mirror
Unable to stop the events about to unfold
He invades her mind, body and soul

Two days before her big day
She moves along emotionless
 Her sixteenth birthday spent in bed wishing she were dead  
Was it because of her path that she was destine to crash
Her life at the mercy of his will
Every sick desire she was forced to fulfill
Once so normal in every way, the last girl anyone thought would go astray

She wakes up everyday
Remembering how the were tears streaming down her face 
Believing that now she was a complete disgrace
To weak to fight
She survived that torturous night by knowing it wasn’t right
She was tricked… 
A repeat like him knew exactly what victim to pick
There was no going back
She then refused to let him derail her off the tracks

I wake up everyday
To find myself realizing there is no answer why  
No longer harboring any part of the blame 
No scarlet letter, no hidden shame
I get pleasure as he rots in an eight by ten cell
And I get to smile again knowing he is stuck in his own personal hell 
He who stole something so dear from me
I can chuckle as he will never be free


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Tis All About the Journey

I’m so thankful for the given path That began when I was just a seed The glorious plan that our God hath Tis all about the journey, indeed Each step in life I take with grace Filled with peace and tranquility Always keeping at a gentle pace I know the best is waiting for me You can’t reach the full bloom Without the growth of the stem Clear the space and make room For the journey provided by Him You gotta step through gritty sand To reach God’s calm sea of ecstasy Slow down and enjoy the given land As it says in that song, Feelin’ Groovy It’s good to be scheduled, almost mostly But some moments are meant to be still Which, always brings to stand a memory Of a moment in time, yes, a really big deal Where ever you are, as you go on your way And it doesn’t even matter where you start Take time often, to be with others and play But be sure you always carry a joyful heart Cherish the yester-moments and live for today Keep dreaming of what the tomorrows might be I may not know for sure, but that’s just what I say And I’ll keep believing, tis all about the journey Florence McMillian (Flo)


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No expectations

I have no expectations I just do the best I can.
Sometimes I awake at night wondering who I am.
The light begins to falter as I slip into the dark.
I feel the void grow larger my soul it seems to mark.

Take me to a station place me on a train.
As the rain still falls it erases all the pain.
I step into the car I don’t know where I’ll go.
The more I see in life the less I seem to know.

The train leaves the station hope is packed on board.
I look into the distance my happiness I should afford.
I wonder where I’m going even if I’m on the track.
I find that once you get this far there is no turning back.

The sun begins to set as I head into the night.
The moon and stars like my hope are shining bright.
I head into this tunnel and wonder of the other side.
I tire from this journey it has been a long hard ride.


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This January Day

As history was awakened,
on this January Day,
a man of hope,
takes his place.

Speaking to the world,
he told of his plan,
where equality is here,
for every woman, and man.

No more will greed,
be allowed to grow,
eyes will be watching,
this you should know.

We are survivors,
and like others before,
we will defend our great country,
from every shore.

Hard work, and sweat,
and prayers from our lips,
united we shall stand,
on this four year trip.


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Lilies Of The Field

Lilies in the field nearby 
Whisper to those who cry.
They give praise to empty graves 
And solace to souls now saved. 
The Seed of faith has sprouted, 
The Word of God has spread
To all who hear and hold quite near 
Our Lord’s baptismal shower. 
The path we tread 
Is strewn with bread 
To guide our way 
Through cloudy days of anxious dread. 
The narrow way 
From whence we stray 
Is never far from sight; 
Our Shepherd’s voice and outstretched hand 
Plucks us from the quickening sand. 
Reconciled to God,
Trusting in His grace we face, 
Another day another way 
To fall into contrition. 
Step forward in faith 
Across time and space 
With every breath proclaim His grace. 
Lilies in the field nearby
Whisper to those who cry.

Johann Myles
Spiritual


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We Danced And Played

Long ago there was a girl;
She was my age; 
We danced and played.

Many years hence over bridges
We went together hand-in-hand;
We danced and played.

Close and tight we spent our
Days loving each other 
Wishing our love would stay; 
We danced and played.

In the sight of God, we vowed 
And prayed for Him to bless us
On our way; 
We danced and played.

My every joy in her I found,
Her beauty deep within me bound;
We danced and played.

As days grew older, 
And her hair grew gray, 
We spent our last hour together to pray.
Across the bridge she said she’ll wait 
Till in her arms we shall be 
Together for all eternity.

Johann Myles
"Romantic"


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SILENT FLIGHT

What lies beneath a sea of numb
Where ships of heart were taken down
Sunk to the bottom with the one
I hated and I meant to drown

For in its hull it carried pain
Instead of what its purpose was
And thus I had immense disdain
Because it never carried love

So yes, I set it in my sights
Then fired all I had and more
Carpet-bombing through the night
To sink it to the ocean floor

And when it finally disappeared
I flew away and did not know
The others ships were likewise pierced
Doomed just as well to slip below

They sank at random, one by one
The ships of pride and hope and fear
Of aspiration, sad and fun
The ship of peace, the ship of tears

The ship of drive, the ship of will
No ship was spared, the plight went on
They fell, and fell, and fell, and fell
Until at last all ships were gone

So now in silent flight I go
No signals come as were before
No guidance from the sea below
No hope of landing…anymore

…Jeff Bresee


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Each Day and Each Night

Once upon a time, 
lived a princess 
who wore a robe 
which covered her feet 
each day and each night 
she dreamed of the day 
her prince charming found her

Once upon a time,
lived a young girl 
who wore barely nothing 
and shivered and shaked
each day and each night 
she dreamed of the day
she had food to eat  

Once upon a time, 
lived a baby girl
who wore no nappy 
and lay there stone cold
each day and each night 
she dreamed of the day 
her parents cared
 
After a while, 
the pretty princess 
who wore a crown on her head 
which shined so bright 
searched for prince charming 
each day and each night 
but still no luck 

After a while,
the yawning young girl 
who wore bags under her eyes
grew tired of looking
but kept on searching 
each day and each night 
for scraps to eat

The end, 
for the pretty princess 
who wore a white dress 
on her big day
found her prince charming 
together they stayed
After a while, 
the beautiful baby 
who wore teary eyes
gave up all hope 
but tried so so hard 
each day and each night 
for a loving stare

The end, 
for the pretty princess 
who wore a white dress 
on her big day
found her prince charming 
together they stayed
each day and each night 

The end, 
for the yawning young girl
who wore a pale face
on her final day
never found them few scraps 
starving she stayed
each day and each night

The end, 
for the beautiful baby 
who wore a clean nappy 
on the new day 
finally found that loving stare 
with a new family she stayed
each day and each night


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SO HATED AND UNDESIDERABLE

He came from humble folks,
an adoptive father
and a virgin mother;
many didn't believe He was the Christ,
and still the parables, written in the Gospels,
amaze us to this day with their might!

Preaching with a fearless voice,
and speaking to them of hope,
of fraternity and unselfish love...
the prodigal son and the tears
of an indecent woman
are the  perfect reminders
how forgiveness can change someone's life;
are we on the same path to destruction,
and do we ever look back:
to reflect and avoid falling into the Devil's trap?

So hated and undesiderable,
 in the sinner's thoughts,
is the One who gave up His life,
so that we could enter the forbidden Paradise;
and didn't His blood, spilled on Calvary's cross,
save everyone...living in sin and pride?

Pope Benedict condemns immorality,
and warns those violating celibacy...
while wicked priests molest innocent children;
what will it take to make this an obedient race?
If Jesus returned today, wouldn't he grab the whip
and start lashing them like a whirl-wind,
so that they would be punished for their sin
 and  their mocking faith?           

Religion has a deceptive look,
it changes and adapts itself 
to the ideology of modern times...
leading many down a dark road;
its light is a flickering candle:
making true faith so hated and undesiderable! 


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Moon Kissed

Shadows chasing shooting stars, the poets cry as they write the future.
Words begin to fall like rain, emotions flow between the wind.

The atmosphere evolves.

A beating heart peaking up beneath the pavement. Vines of green hug the pulsating instrument.
Flowers blossom to the sound, a bitter sweet symphony. Petals dance with pixies  upon trees.

The night is singing.

The air is thick and the moon is watching, the glow of silver pours on down.
A kiss of crimson and the heart starts racing. Midnight lovers of the enchanted woods.

A candle burns.

The wax begins to drip upon the rose, the lovers kiss begins to part.
The dancers stop as the crescendo descends, silence for the beating heart.


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Gemini June

My daughter keeps the time
From a place where I was fine
To a night I won’t forget
To a night I could regret
But I won’t.

Great Meteor showers 
And unspoken words
Nine months, nine days and hours
And I became the Middle-aged Matron
Of a Beautiful Red Haired Daughter.

She came flying into this world
Just as the sky unfurled
During one of the most intense 
storms of that wonderful
Gemini June.

Then the rains that came 
Pouring down
Chose just as quickly then to go
The darkness miraculously abated 
And the dark clouds parted ways
So the sun could put on its show.

A double rainbow was soon filling the skies
God’s sign that he was nigh
A vision that could foretell
His promise that all there was 
And all that had been
And that all would be
Would be 
More than well.

His personal promise to me.
That this child was meant to be
And the world would someday see
In years and years to come
That she would someday mirror 
Both my image and show the better part of me.

In her being she will show
That I did the right thing
And that I didn’t take the easy road.

And I am quite sure
That she will prove
Through her actions, thoughts and deeds
That she will more than deserve
The chance to walk the earth
To live and love and laugh and breathe.

I gave her her life
The gift of having a life.
The chance to create a life.
The chance to be.
I love her so very dearly
She is the well cherished embodiment of me.

(November 13, 2010 Wausau, Wisconsin)

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



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A Mighty King

Last night In the black of the night
Demons came a pounding the gates
Encompassing the walls of my soul.
So, I quickly raised my flag up high
Inverted, and then hid there to wait
In the dungeons for the King's patrol!

In fear, I tried to swim the sewers
To sneak past them by way of the lake
But the disturbance there was great,
And they were camped by the moors
So then, quietly as a water snake
I retreated again to await my fate.

Sleep did in tarrying finally come
And with it sweet comforting escape
From the din of my demonic siege.
I awoke to the silence of enemy drums
And the stillness of my soul unraped
Giving silent thanks to my Liege.

And then while taking tally I went
By the placid still waters of my soul
And there I found a beautiful thing!
My loving Lord's familiar footprints
Where in battle He stood to control
The disturbance, I serve a mighty King!


                               Timothy I. Brumley


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I, Thomas

I found a moment deeply entrained, 
Somewhat rusty and restrained. 
I scoured its tarnished face
Restoring its unblemished angelic grace.
Beneath a splintered cross I stood 
Staring at the blood stained wood; 
Sacrificed upon this tree 
Christ reconciled Himself to me.
At the tomb from whence He lay 
Only gleamed the light of day; 
The stench of sin could not remain 
Neither death my Lord restrain.
Only friends of mine were here, 
Locked within this room of fear;
Suddenly, I knew that Jesus was among us too.
I touched His hands, 
His pierced side; 
“My Lord and my God,” I cried.  
It is finished as Christ said
For He has risen from the dead. 
Guide me Lord in all my ways;
Grant me strength to sing Thy praise.

 


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Post

Waking she goes downstairs with great hope.

And she is not disappointed as the tree is sparkling.

Presents also wake with hope that is great as well.

That house was lovely and with remembrance .

 

The hope that awaited that child wasn't disappointed.

And that boy filled with promise as he ran to whisper to his brother.

"Wake and breath," said he as he later recalled.

And the mother watched as it unfolded.

 

She worked two jobs to see the promises made by the father.

And that father who spent paycheck after paycheck on horses.

He was strong at the promise but weak when it came to the track.

With a cigarette in one hand and the slip in the other.

 

Tomorrow will be different with the smoke and promise.

I will give them Christmas that won't be forgotten.

But The Shadow was to slow coming round that last quarter mile.

And shredding the winning ticket as he read The Shadow the riot act.

 

I can make it all back and parley it to get that Pokeman figure for Jr.

And Simone will love Ken and the Punk Rock Barbie dressed in black.

Post time for the sixth and he bought his ticket as the horses were at the gate.

At the the final pole he leaped out of his seat and was filled with inspiration.


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Daisies in December dec 2001

Winter have come and winters have gone some were very cold and some were a 
little warmer.
But this winter is different so far it hasn't been winter cold it has been so warm that 
the flowers have been blooming!
I know this isn't very spectacular to most because a lot of places have them 
blooming year round.
Around here the climate is usually to cold and the flowers are tucked away in there 
beds.
But this year there up late and showing there heads. 

On 09-11-2001 so many of our flowers died and were taken from us.
And we thought what a cold senseless act it was that caused them to die.
I thought they would never come out again, 
but Christmas is here and people are traveling and hurrying and shopping almost 
like they used to.
I took my daughter to school and the air was a little nippy. 
When we got out of the truck we saw two daisies standing tall and blooming! 
I said to my daughter look how nice God sent us daisies in December.

Life on Purpose Live it before you lose it! ©2009


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Survive You

My only hope was that I would survive you,

But now I don't know why.

Your body was my temple.

I felt useful on my knees and while I worshiped at your feet.

Now, I've lost my religion.

Could you ever know what that means?

To lose your life's blood, but your heart still beats.

Oh, If I could hurt you too

I wouldn't throw a sucker punch

I want you to see it coming

I want you to feel my fist before it connects

To spill your blood with my pale white hands

Could I absorb enough of you to bring the color back to me?

To have my body warmed by your spilled life

I have this empty shell of me and hollow is so hard to fill

What will I do to pass the years?

When life is gone and existence never ends

My only hope was that I would survive you

But now I don't know why.


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Inspiracy

One life story.......

Listen my children and you shall hear
thus quoth he into her ear
With her still months shy of a year.

The Cremation of Sam McGee
Ecclesiastes
The Odyssey

All etched in her mind before she was three.

Then came school
hip, swell and cool
hot days at the swimming pool

Degree decision
nuclear fission
late one night a car collision

Marriage, babies
Mortgage, savings
Moving vans, fights, cleaning ladies.

Separation
Court, divorce
Bankruptcy, self-abrogation

Weighing the merits of annihilation

Poetry, freedom
Wisdom, kids grown
90% of it's just showing up.

Listen my children and you shall hear
Thus quoth he inside her ear
Year after year after precious year

The Cremation of Sam McGee
Ecclesiastes
The Odyssey

Epic narratives - inspiracy


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Spectators

Dedicated to my dear friend Sarah (with an H) for pointing out God's creation of nature in Isaiah 55:12
There are many trees in my yard Beautifully made by our creator Those admired most have names All of the others I call Spectators Each one seems uniquely styled Being the tree it was meant to be Let me introduce you to the ones That seem the most favorite to me In the front begins with Laverne A beautiful, long haired, palm tree The queen of the trees in the yard Wearing green bling for all to see I guess one day, one of the birds That were nesting there one morn Decided to take a seedling to plant Maybe that’s how Shirley was born Then there’s Ruby the rubber tree That always comes back each year Not really sure how that can happen By her stands Buckley, a fake deer In the back I’ll take you to David A big pine tree that the storm injured Still tall enough to see from the front One day I plan to have him sculptured Goliath is the other gigantical pine tree Being like a timer for me when I swim Bringing the biggest shade to the pool Blocking the sun as it heads towards him Angelo, a woodpecker, lives in a dead tree That tree has been named Angelo’s Condo I think the reason he took residence there Was to sculpture the David tree, I hope so The Katy bunch is a pointy tropical group That grow so crazy wild next to my pond Even though we battle at each trimming With each one of them I remain quite fond The Thibodeaux tree stands in the back A little grapefruit tree to one day bloom A day will come when he grows very big I am sure there should be enough room All of the rest of the trees are spectators Watching in hopes to be noticed one day I listen to the sounds of their distant cheer They wave as the wind makes them sway I like to admire the growth cycle of each tree Some offer nesting places for a variety of birds That brings different tunes in their happy songs With the most beautiful sounds I’ve ever heard There are the ones that seem completely confident As they begin to lose their leaves by the time of fall They seem to know it is meant to be and soon to pass As they keep their branches standing up mighty and tall I sure hope you are inspired to notice more of the trees Please remember those spectators that are looking at you Trying to get your attention to perhaps be given a name Maybe now you might even want to name a few too Florence McMillian (Flo)


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There's HOPE by Juliet Rosa 7th grade

You might be in a 
bad situation,
but let me tell you something.
There's HOPE!

You might be willing
to make the wrong choice,
but let me tell you something.
There's HOPE!

You might feel guilty about the traumatic
experience you lived that day,
but let me tell you something.
There's HOPE!

You might be depressed about
what you accidently did,
but let me tell you something.
There's HOPE!

You might be dying on
the inside,
but let me tell you something.
There's HOPE!

You might think there's
no way out,
but let me tell you something.
There's HOPE!


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I Never Found Sense in Burning My Own Poems

You know, I planned on turning in early;
Put myself down to rest, but something 
About the rhythmic tapping always gets the best
Of me. That nervous twitch that supersedes 
Me physically. Drawing out the the words in the only way I know how.
"Standchen" with ears wide open! No need for eyes.
All I need to see is written delicately in front of me.
Poetio Concerto: orchestrated as I feel fit.
I planned on turning in early; putting my pen down.
Days had passed until I asked myself "could I leave something so profound"?
A once burning passion turned draining obsession. 
Every emotion, every waking moment, all of lifes components;
Taken, twisted; cramped into metaphors and analogies.
But who will be the next to read? Not I said the author.
I cannot cut myself with the swords that I have made
Written down on paper are thoughts that I have slayed.
Take them and do with them what you will.
I've hid them, saved them; watched them stale in a pile.
I've kept them safe inside a folder, and I've burned them
Watching every stanza smolder.
I never found sense in burning my own poems,
It helps me forget, at least that's what I told her.
I planned on turning in early but it always seems to find me.
An ugly little thing, this poetry.
"Teasing Comb" an emotional plea turned cruel prophecy.
I will not write my future, I refuse to.
I am no puppet master and puppets I refute you. 
My doubts, my fears, I speak of them freely.
I've learned: speak of your weaknesses and you will seem weak.
Speak of your strengths and you will seem strong.
But speak of your insecurities and you will be underestimated;
Put in a position to prove everyone wrong.
I speak of myself freely to make all of me strengths
And through this I do to prove myself wrong and will continue and any length.


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The new pope, Benedict XVI

His name is Joseph Ratzinger, the new pope Benedict XVI,
Installed as the two hundred sixty-fifth pope since foundation;
he’s a staunch defender of orthodox Catholic doctrine;
he’s German, an accomplished polyglot and theologian,
a good friend with sincerity and humility in every action.

He’s remembered too as someone who’s in opposition
to include Turkey as part of the so-called European Union,
his fear that this Muslim nation may dilute a certain culture
like Christianity in a particular continent vis-a-vis Turkey.

Born on April 16, 1927 in Markti am Inn, in Bavaria,
ordained in 1951 at the age of 24 in his own native town;
his theological studies punctuated with intelligence,
truly, a gift to the church and the whole society at large.

Cardinals from fifty-two countries who voted for him,
veered away from the traditional choice of an Italian successor,
for four hundred fifty-five years before a Polish pope,
Karol Wojtyla, known as Pope John Paul II elected in 1978.

He was fifty-eight years old when he became a pope,
while Cardinal Ratzinger was 78, the oldest pope chosen,
like Pope Clement XII in 1730, same age like his
showed strong leadership, competence and faithfulness.

Being a sovereign pontiff and Vicar of the Catholic Church,
he’s very articulate in a prolific academic achievement;
a man of culture, a voice of careful reservation,
indeed, an answer to the growing darkness of culture and corruption.

I love his maiden speech, his first words as the newly elected pope,
“the Lord will help us, and Mary, his most holy mother, will
be alongside us.”  
tat gave me a strong impact as I carry with me that same hope
along with my desire to be faithful to the Lord in my ministry
a a priest, a humble worker in the Lord’s vineyard.

As the Church in this generation faces a number of issues
so complex and ethical that enable one to be open and faithful;
to the doctrine that heralds its openness to the changing times,
a huge task for his papacy, for his governance and pedagogy.

He’s the right pope for me and I vouch for his abilities,
his gifts and vision as the new pope in this century,
will continue to bring us into the splendor of God’s light,
between believers and nonbelievers alike, he’s our bridge;
who’ll listen to the cries of the mother church and obey God’s will.

Hail to our Pope Benedict XVI, first Germanic pope! 
after nearly five hundred years since the pontiff was of the same background;
his pontificate is a celebration and affirmation of God’s love for us,
with his unwavering leadership - a continuation, a return to earlier traditions.


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Old Satan

Satan has his ways to deceive each of us
maybe through money or wanting too much
satan will give comfort to a sinners soul
and make them believe with a heart so cold
satan is destruction in every way
his purpose for you is to keep you astray
he does not like it when families are strong
this is when he tries them one by one
old satan is sneaky and he knows the ropes
he makes you believe that there is no hope
he gets so mad when you acknowledge Gods work
he thrives on the weak he is such a jerk
his pathway to hell is killing your soul
while keeping your desire for silver and gold
satan will tell you it is all Gods fault
the hard times and sorrow we have all walked that walk
remember choices are given to us
God will forgive us He loves us so much


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Beyond Desires

Beauty can be so enticing, 
seeing what we want, 
but not allowed to have.

The face is beautiful,
the body is curved for 
sexual appeal,
toned perfectly.

The figure is flawless,
the eyes are gorgeous.
Staring into pure beauty.

Yet is this want we want?
Is this all you see?

Anyone can work to have these attributes,
or even pay.

But where is the true desire?
After the physical appearance,
what do they have to offer.

What does the heart look like?
What does their mind really say?
Can the beauty of the heart compare
to the appearance?

What is it that we really seek?
Do we want the outer beauty that fades,
or do we want what lasts longer?

Sometimes we seek what we would rather
desire than what we truly need.

The needs might not have everything
desirable that we want.
The expectations aren't met.

Maybe what we desire
isn't what we really need.

Maybe what we need
is better for us.

Maybe what we need
is right in front of us.


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Stymied by moral transgressions

While the church of today continues to wrestle with prominent issues,
like those of leadership, moral credibility, or fidelity of her members;
society remains critical to address certain weakpoints already at hand,
those seeming endless lawsuits against the clergy and religious members.

Moments in time unfold the wreckage of moral credibility, trust, and confidence;
it’s like a downfall of the human castle formed with the sanctity of wisdom –
continuity in liturgical sacraments, prayer, and reliance on biblical life;
with faith that God is involved in many events both ecclesial and personal.

It’s on a soaring journey where the Jewish concept of bitachon   is needed,
to move on amid the struggles and other evolving deal of human problems;
so inextricable that make one stronger to cope with what life really means,
in this generation where a culture of arguments abounds in moral situations.

It’s sad to think of what’s going on; it’s painful to experience those afflictions,
the church grieves and suffers with all her leaders’ and members’ transgressions;
with the abuse of power, freedom, and prestige of being one of Christ’ ministers,
heaven weeps as evil triumphs to lead those priests into the world of failures.

The turbulent waves of scandals that have wounded the sacred priestly life,
people’s trust and faithfulness to the sacraments of life – a great turmoil!
the whole Catholicism has been shaken and struggled to redeeem her reputation;
her running sore of afflictions – so widespread that only time can heal the wounds.

With the words of Jesus at his farewell discourse in Johannine literature,
“I will not leave you orphans; I will come to you.”   It’s reassuring so far;
the Spirit of truth  is Christ himself who’ll walk with his own people of all races,
his covenant with them, promise to his disciples, and assurance to all who believe in him.

The church echoes hope and perseverance in the throes of sufferings and tribulations,
She calls everyone to look for the true light – Christ, in hiddenness and humility;
His epiphany  in a continuing journey of faith, in the gospel cries, in various events,
Christ shines in one’s heart, along with the Father and the Holy Spirit – the Paraclete.


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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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I Realize

who is this spiritual soul I see dancing amongst the thorns and nails of a desolate ending
perhaps a chosen man.....one to walk alone in the corruption of the filth laden lies
perhaps an angel passing through to display a true light  , a light of love for each
just perhaps.......


perhaps gives birth to a definite divine................................


I realize...


I........


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The Sea Blue Eyes I

Once in a while I meet a person whose eyes tell their story
The story is like the sky reflection on the seas of glory
The eyes are all the wonder of the world
It sees the future, past, and present
The eyes give us knowledge of the world and reflection
The reflection of sadness and weakness of each creature
The wonder of each individual being has a present
To the world who has lots of false images
To arise the moment of that one glance
To follow the heart in romance
Just the reflection that gather in your eyes of blue
What a man and a woman should view
Life is such a pain without stopping to see each eyes
Its like roses you have to enjoy each passion in side
When that moment collides with mind and heart
Nothing in your soul can keep your love apart
Join in the fun look in every eyes of a person beside
With passion and romance I bet you, you would cry
The luster of all the things to come
A bounty of life long needs to be given by just the wonders of the eyes
The blue seas reflects the different depths of our feelings
And it should become revealing
Come to your senses with ravaging hormones of lust
The sea can take you and even the reflection in the eyes of the person
The beauty is not held by one it is held by everyone
Such looks with fear for no relief
Is almost a dreadful part in our human nature
Beware of what can happen when emotions are held
Held to the core of an individual
No such thing is kindness when you find yourself in the Sea Blue Eyes
Calling in your soul by just looking
With ignorance you play around with such futile emotion
Gush away the fear and do not go insane with life so dear
The grasp of the titans comes to reveal
The evil within your heart is so obscenely noticed
You want the sea and you want those eyes to look at you with wishes
The rage in the heart are waves that cannot stop 
It pushes and pushes with no regret
The heart falters and there is only one thing in your mind
The idea of one soul to be with is the ocean 
The rifts that is trying to break to end the wants of desire
Cannot be trusted in a human lier
The beauty of man is destruction 
The beauty of women are commands
The eyes of each does not matter in the sea
Because all emotion and desire is given to those who are true
Command of a person is just one thing 
The desire to destroy is another
The Sea Blue Eyes will see no bother cause it bares it all
Even the utmost desire
To be continue.


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I'm Sorry I Can't Be Perfect

I try not to think about the pain inside
That is the one thing that I always try to hide
It's just to late and we can't turn back
There is one thing, the only thing that I lack
I try so hard to make it but I just can't take
We've lost it all and nothing lasts forever
I feel like you haven't noticed my love ever
I'm never going to be good enough for you
I just wish that our world was made for two
You just don't understand how hard I try
To make your heart love me inside
It hurts me when you can't even see it
I hope that you can at least feel it
I can't stand another fight
My soul is lost every night
I just want you to feel
That my love for you is real
I hope that someday you will see
That you are in love with me...


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The Fight for Perfection

Control over my life is what I seek 
to no longer be unwanted 
to gain the one thing i desire,
perfection
In my head lives a girl, Ana 
she guides me through the hard times
she helps me against my enemy,
food 
Ana is always there for me, no matter what 
to advise me on the bad things 
to remind me of the goal, the aim,
perfection 
My reflection shows the problem areas
which show me how far i still am
which focus me on what to avoid, 
food 
The scales will always tell the truth 
unlike the labels on food packaging 
unlike the people who tell me i will never get it,
perfection
One day i will show the haters 
just what i can do
just what i can be,
PERFECT


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Night of the Ghost Knight...

Tender Rose! watch tonight
I reach thee there, in a wondrous flight
Sighs, storms not any more
as wanton winds soften the roar.
Tearing apart the paths I 'll be
trotting triumph through the untamed sea
hold unto thy dreams for a while
as riding I come charging the vile.
Queen of hearts, my charming bride!
shining I near over the tide
Danger, Death my old delight
truest promise tonight, must see the light.
Dogs, savages of the dark
Come an' they shall be ripped apart
Guides me truly...heavenly a spark
never let Fear rule thy heart.
The moment I kiss this castle enchanted
my silver armor in crimson painted
four or forty heads...I need not know
though fiery monsters shall be lying low
Moonlit sword shall drink the sun
the fire of my breast shall make them burn
Fear not faerie queen then, my faerie dove!
witnesses every move...the angel of love.
Softly like rain...fall into my arms
O' Heavens! Thy countless ethereal charms!
I shall fly thee...through kind the flashes of the moonbeams
away from tempests...to mid summer's night's dreams.!
Unpin the braid...we'll sail in the wind
hoofs won't touch the hard roads blind
into the sea of love...where no chains can bind
as mortal fear, mundane terrains...we leave behind...


Note-As the sailors enter the Thorde sea...they can hear a faint voice singing. As they 
move further deep into the waters...the wind all of a sudden hums low an' the voice grows 
distinct. A clear ringing voice...pain or ecstasy, they cannot make out. It sings of a deathly 
night...of a Knight an' his beloved...the rescue an' an almost successful escape. That 
night..as the two approach the sea...the knight finds his ship...set ablaze by some 
treacherous spirit...gone unbeaten. At this moment of great fix...ten arrows strike the knight 
from the back...poison tipped. The beloved princess is speechless in ecstasy...an' she 
knows nothing of this immediate dreadful strike. As a knight ...never falls or fails...he looks 
above, at the gleaming heaven in earnest pray...an' with his beloved holding him close; he 
storms into the sea with the horse. The waves this moonlit night...remind you the tale once 
more....as in above...


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Betwixt food and human relationship

It’s good to get together as friends and confreres
like in table fellowship or religious convocation
and then, enjoy the company of each other’s culture
as Italians, Colombians, Filipinos or Brazilians.

The day after Easter Sunday adds another occasion
for us Scalabrinians to be reunited at this point in time
sharing the gifts of food, life, humor and relationship 
with a space for fraternity, some updates and good wishes.

Truly, it shows the spirit of oneness and fraternal fellowship
sharing the commonality of our commitmment to faith
as brothers in Christ and members of our Founder’s order,
the religious congregation that cares for migrant people. 

There’s much to do and plan for what we aim to materialize
in today’s world where migration poses a huge issue
like a salad bowl with mozzarella, tomato and olive oil
a metaphor for migration that deals with human cultures.

Described in the Bible as a growing missionary virtue
hospitality as a key to open one’s heart in this journey
With fearlessness and confidence, it’s a major issue
depicting the picture of global movements raised in action.

Our days of darkness, our bickering confreres in places –
where community life matters and features one’s emptiness
in dealing with one another in our quest for human and divine.
it’s indeed a challenge and will always be a test of faith, thus far.

This helps us understand through our setbacks, pains and joys,
with friends around and those who share with us many times
those sacred stories of being called to worship God and be present
especially in the Eucharist that nourishes our souls to be whole.


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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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Triple Distatich-GODFEARING GRANDPA

Godfearing grandpa died over two decades ago,
he had an adventureous spirit bolder than any explorer of long ago;
and in his many voyages: from tumultuous Argentina
to Canada and America...he immensely missed
his faithful and beautiful blue-eyed wife Maria...
and when he dreamed of that face he once caressed,
tears flowed thinking of her with a man's desire,
which too often he bore throughout his dire...
and he could have found a companion, but he resisted that urge
by opening the Bible to remind him of his refuge.



That large barn, which echoed with the peasants' voices and songs,
was the labor of their callous hands storing hazelnuts, chestnuts, grapes 
and grains to be sold in the town's market square...all that was his pride and joy; 
and what made those long furrows with vines so bountful?
Their source was a river flowing through those well-kept farms,
nourishing them with its fresh waters that at times proved to be
very disastrous and fatal when its banks  filled to capacity
when floods occurred making him sad, but seldom he lost hope...
as he glanced far, dreaming of sailing beyond the crimson horizon.
Godfearing grandpa was never stouthearted, he firmly believed in Divine Mercy.


Godfearing grandpa sailed from the Bay of Naples
on a ship cramped with thousands of desperate immigrants, 
to seek fortune outside Italy after Mussolini seized power;
and he didn't curse his native soil for making him leave,
but kept on loving it with same ardor of his youth.
" I will return to my land and my barn as empty as a shell,
dreaming of stacking it with those crops ready to be gathered...
I will smell the ripe apples, the juicy grapes, the yellow pears,
the plump oranges with their strong scent in the crates made of oak!"
He solemny shouted to the reddest sky overlooking his rosy barn.  


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Born Alone Naturally

                                     I am a man born alone
                                     prepared to die alone
                                     in between I will be responsible to me alone
                                     for what I do or who I become 
                                     or what I leave behind when my life is done

                                     my intentions will never be to bring about harm or misery 
                                     but I do intend to face my life and human strife successfully

                                     there may come a time when I’m knocked down
                                     and lay upon the cold and hardened ground
                                     but I will never cast a stone at those who were in my way
                                     only to get back up and start again
                                     in the morning of a brand new day

                                     if I fail that is my choice 
                                     not to listen to your voice
                                     if I succeed that is my choice as well
                                     you’ll never find me cursing or blaming
                                     anyone else that they made my hell

                                     to blame only brings shame in life’s eternal game
                                     when I look into the mirror and face my face alone
                                     I feel the pride inside that I have never cast a stone

                                     we are all self made
                                     but only those who do succeed accept this truth of life
                                     and are willing an able to fight for the right
                                     to stand proud and stand alone 
                                     before we are buried and lay cold under a stone


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Love Can Mend

Within ones mind,
we cannot tread,
unless invited,
a book unread.

Questions arise,
the penetration begins,
answers given,
for healing to begin.

Darkness erased,
then light filters in,
the process,
releasing sin.

Love can conquer,
love understands,
love is the difference,
love brings friends,
love is the first step,
for a heart to mend.



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Hopes and Memories

Like a rattlesnake you coil,
Yet I work and toil...
For a love that is forbidden and forsaken,
My heart is broken and my world is shaken.
Go on and live a life that is in shambles,
I always knew that winning your heart was a highstake gamble.
When my world comes crashing around down my ears,
I want you to be the one to quell my fears.
When everyone gangs up on me and I cower in fright,
I need you my white knight.
If need be I will fall on my knees and beg for your heart,
As my world is being torn apart.
While I am swimming in sewage as far as my eyes can see,
The only light around is your eyes of green.
They are the most beautiful eyes I have ever laid eyes upon,
More beautiful than the dawn.
I may not be the prettiest rose,
But you would regret it if my heart you did lose.
So when the sun arises I will drop to my knees,
And pray that one day you will love me.
When my memory fills with pictures of your face once again,
My heart begins to bend...
When i can no longer picture your smile my heart will shatter,
Because when it comes to soul mates you are the only one who has ever mattered.

MODPS


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I Saw The Inmate Praying

I saw the inmate down on his knees.
I could hear his wondering pleas;

"I'm only an inmate what can I do?
What kind of service can I give you?
I'm here in jail for the crimes I've done.
Who would listen to me, I can't think of one?
Tell me Lord Jesus, what can I give?
What can I do behind these walls where I live?"

The inmate looked up to see me there.
He said this was the answer to his prayer;

Let Me tell you My child, this is what I ask.
I want you to serve Me there and help with My task.
Read your Bible and spread the word.
Hold Bible studies so My message is heard.
Follow My teaching and do what I say.
Stand as My witness living the right way.
Be filled with compassion, kindness and love.
Continually pray to My Father above.
Serve Me in the jail, you can still do so much good.
Treat those who are there as your neighborhood.
Encourage and teach them to come to Me in prayer.
Be a reflection of the relationship we share.
Seek me in stillness, close your cell door.
Stay focused on Me so I can teach you more.
My child, I have not cast you away from My face!
I will always show you mercy and grace!

Inspired by God 12/12/2005


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Rainbow People Let the Gods Fight Their Own War

(To My Proud Daughters of a Man-made World)
We shift shapes and shades all day long
Happy or sad we cleanse our souls with a song. 
Together we sat giving company, counting crows,
The rhythm of our lives echoed in the shore.
We are the rainbow people known to all;
We answered the world to its beck and call.
Then came the fateful day, mighty and dark
We set out on a mission - a journey to embark.
We dreamt of a butterfly dream, soulful and bright
But the passage to heaven was out of sight.
Our glorious land was ravaged by the gods,
We lost our sight and calculated the odds.
Hunger and stupor became our hosts
We were defeated, but all is not lost.
The wind fails to favor our sail, our spirits encumber
In the land of lost we were outnumbered. 
The soul shifts in the endless tyranny of life
Wicked wisdom cuts us through like a knife. 
The golden gate was rusty, the eyes wander for shade 
We marked the silver lining with our rotten blade.
So long my sweet angels I bid thee well
We spread to prosper but I cannot tell.
We are the sisters of a mother’s womb
Until the day we rest on a solitary tomb.
We burned the sacred books to get rid of the cold,
To the world that is yet to come – We are the mold.
________


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Who I was to who I am

There I was and yet here I still am
once chasing that feeling,now with Gods help and by His grace
becoming a good man
my mother prayed and grandma cried... my actions said I didn't care
back there are haunting memories,situations,instances I seldom ever share
when He sat me down in a concrete room... I cried myself to sleep
wondering of who I'd become,trying on my own to be strong... but,still feeling so weak
I prayed and asked Jesus to pick me up once again
I apologized and prayed to my savior "Lord get me out of this sin!"
so here I am years later with a life I call my own
reading my Bible by the morning light,praising my God who has restored so much
and blessed me, with life, a saved wife, and a home!


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My Battle

I was broken and bloody My soul was torn asunder,So death came for me.He thought it would be easy I thought I was done. But when he reached out to take my soul My spirit which was fading fast found its last ounce of strength and began to glow with an amazing power. So a battle began a battle for my soul. My tattered body then feel into a coma to try and save the last bit of its self.The battle raged within me for a full day. Somehow my spirit weak and faded managed to give death all and more then it could take. The battle ended and I awoke....alive the victor. So the question I ask the world is "If I still won the battle that weak and tired. What is there that I can't do if given the time to heal?"


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Undertaking

In ventures dates arise and forth
Musky as tortures I swinging
       Quasi I view myself hate or enrich
Who by pigeonholed proof been
Of actives kinship thy bachelors
       Around I try within of ranged vibrantly
Indeed, handle as matters upon
the dressed encipher it dealt
       Tho doubts or widely inquiries
And sinlessly lo ways ...
In state did so hornily, so straight.
       And jealous by signify, foes smelled
up, the elegy crucial for her, and obvious
Culled off mine attends thy bachelor.


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Not for personal gain or glory

Like the Vikings who left us this word – ‘berserk’ 
some of us may have shown it through human reaction,
where we go berserk against disproportionate behaviors
such anger or infuriation that defines the immediate actions.

It’s still very human to act in this way with sudden eruption,
when inner anger overrules and makes us manifest towards others;
a strong element that fuels harsh words and outrage within,
oh, what a state of mind! so capable to influence us in many ways.

But Jesus Christ’s experience when confronted with torture,
suffering, crucifixion and eventually death in his heroic way;
his courage and humility which are worth mentioning here.
truly, a sublime reaction against those pains and persecutions.

He becomes human who copes with greater risks and pains,
identified not as a historical Jesus of natural stoicism;
with his real grasp of what his destiny may entail along the process,
his only response – to embrace the cross which means so much for us.
On Good Friday reminds us of his passion and crucifixion,
being betrayed, denied and left alone in humiliation;
in darkness and dread, in sorrow and bereavement,
he remains true to his mission and love for all the people.

His lonely agony in the garden of Gethsemane,
touches us so profoundly as he awaits for his destiny;
here is his obedience to the Father whom he prays to,
one with him, distinct in person, one in the Trinity.

Courage or bravery is worth remembering here,
it’s born out of a vision that comprises his self-giving;
that knows no fear but is moved with deep reflection,
all for otherness, all for humanity, all because of his love for people.

In today’s world where we’re constantly tempted with selfishness,
self-centeredness or obsession for power, money and prestige;
Christ’s journey with his disciples makes us reflect what it means,
to be a disciple is to be willing to sacrifice for the sake of others.


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Take the high road

I try to take the high road so I can see just where we are,
I look up at the night sky, wish upon a shooting star.
It’s hard to clean up your act when you are dragged through the mud.
 It hard for me to come up shining, when I am covered in all this crud.

As I embark upon the high road the stars shine just for me.
The full moon provides a beacon of light, so that I can see.
I listen to my heart it knows what I shall be.
I stand upon this high spot my spirit just feels free.

The high road takes longer but the rewards are great.
Hope and faith collide creating my new fate.
So much seems to happen that I simply can’t relate,
As the time flies right by, hope it’s not too late…

Can we meet upon the high road and wonder of the view?
Can we listen to the questions when the answers seem askew?
I start out every morning; it’s a brand new day.
Don’t listen to those people they have all just lost their way.

On the high road we find justice and perhaps a little peace.
The soul shall feel thee freedom from the cage it is released.
When it comes right down to it we are defined by what we do.
It only matters where you’re going, not what you’ve been through.

As we walk upon the high road we see what we’ve become.
The principals become the glue so we don’t just come undone.
Maybe we can sit out on the edge and watch the setting sun.
I find myself simply walking where once I had to run…


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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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I'm Looking

I'm looking for someone I can kiss Oh I'm looking for a good girl but finding a good girl is like surfing the web and not seeing porn. I'm looking for someone to hold at night, Oh I'm looking for a good girl but finding a good girl is like going to the strip club and not getting glitter on your lap. I'm looking for someone to love and love me back. Oh I'm looking for a good girl but finding a good girl is like going to the beach and not getting sand in places there should not be sand. Oh I'm just looking for a good girl.


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The Letter to The Lost

You were the gift that gave me eyes, and grateful I’ll forever be. The poetic beauty inside our loss is within the dark we see. So here I write my letter to you, the following week since you passed. You burst into my life like a firework, burning twice as bright but twice as fast. Unlike a rocket you’ll fail to fade, and your love will never be surpassed. As I pen the ink my words begin to smudge, with tears that start to fall. I feel your presence is close to me, and memories flood back to recall. So here begins my letter dear love, you were a gift and a loss to us all. Like a New York snow fall, on a starry December’s eve. Like an enchanted walk in central park, beneath the flowing trees. I took your hand and felt your pulse, as together we were free. Like a shore walk in paradise, along the edge of a summer’s breeze. Like a boat ride across the crystal blue, a magic sail upon the seas. You make me smile with one quick glance, and you rule my memories. The love for you cannot be described, and the loss can never be healed. I placed the flowers upon your stone, and ached with every petal that pealed. Now I know I’ll see you again someday, as we walk into the golden field. I leave you with a kiss and a hug, and pray you are safe and strong. I’ll count the days till I see you again; I hope that it's not too long.


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Bond And Find Yourself

Grasp the bonding freedom,
Captivate me in an everlasting wisdom,
Tickling our favorable endeavors 

Bond and find our way out of temptation 
Find yourself in this hovering world of lust 
Learn to trust this knowledge and find yourself 
In a bonding life

Grasp the bonding freedom,
Captivate me in an everlasting wisdom,
Tickling our favorable endeavors 

Find yourself
Without these favors in mind 
Bond the unseen knowledge
Plead that you'll not miss a single moment...make up a pledge: 
Flaws will try to prevail 
Don't give up...don't fail 

Bond yourself in this Wisdom 
And you'll know 
How to find yourself...you'll be seeking more and more truth
That's not all you'll know...there's more in the future! 

Learn to trust this knowledge and find yourself 
In a bonding life


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Hope by Allen Argueta 7th grade

I believe, I believe
we can do this together.
One step at a time
as long as we work
together as one.

We can do this
even if we don't
make it, we'll be
together always
until the end.


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thanksgiving

One of America’s most treasured holiday and tradition is known as the celebration of Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving a plentiful feast of food and a gathering of friends and family a holiday began as a feast in the beginning days of Americans is one of the most celebrated traditions .To some thanksgiving is just another holiday that is  unimportant just another reminder that Christmas is just around the calendar .Just a day off of work or school ,a tradition passed on over the years, commonly excuse to over eat , an occasion that is between two months ,November the 4th  Thursday and October the 2nd Monday  for Canadians . 
But in November 1621 ,after the pilgrims first  harvest the Governor William Bradford established a feast and invited a group of the Native American allies .Now remembered as the “first Thanksgiving “ by Americans even though the pilgrims used this terms to describe the feast it was held for three consecutive days .Even though there isn’t a known historic banquet menu of there was record of that several of the Wampanoag guests arrived Bearing five dear by Edward Winslow who wrote in his journal .Also Many Historians suggest that many of the meals were served in traditional Native American spices and cooking methods . Because none of the pilgrims had oven and the Mayflower sugar supply had dwindled there was not the modern day traditional that featured pies, cakes and other desserts .The celebration of Thanksgiving has never changed through the year weather your nationality or faith background it is always been a time to express the thankfulness of family Thanksgiving is the day to reunite with family and feast upon food.
There are many traditions that come with thanksgiving but one that is know over all of America is the food. This tradition is know by many  households is that many families struggle to finish out the thanksgiving without having a Ham or turkey on thanksgiving . Also many us have all heard you cant have a turkey day with football, Not every family in America makes football a part of their tradition but the most do .This could range form watching the game to having a little fun playing a game outside .
But you cant forget the essence of thankfulness this can be saying a prayer of thanks to the family gathering to tell what there most thankful for and There are many ways that this can be expressed.


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A Talisman

There, in the sand, you found me I stood out, alone, brighter than all other stones. Shaped by time, and polished by the tide, you thought of me, just a simple thing. That I would be a memory, a keepsake of a better time, when sadness was not a wound against the sky. I cannot solve the problems in your mind. But as your fingers reach deep to seek and hold…. the coldness of my polished stone, I will remind you…. As you rub my polished hide and hold me in your palm, keep remembering...., that time can smooth, and time can heal, and comfort all the qualms of a troubled world.


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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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EVEN ANGELS MAKE LEMONADE

When I was young and naive, I joined a company where I thought I would stay...
The stay only lasted two years, as the President turned out to be a crook.
I had, at that time a young wife...one whom I had hurt by joining this company against her 
better judgement and who had seen from the first where this would go.
When I got wise and realized that she was right all along, it was too late to save the marriage.

There I was, no wife, no home, no job, $14,000 in debt, and the creditors at the door.  I was 
staying at my mother's house at the time...and being alone one night, I decided to call one of 
the people I used to work with.  He wasn't home, but I spoke to his wife.  She had been one 
of our secretaries, and I knew her as well.  As we spoke of things going on, and the things 
past, she interupted me in mid sentence.  "Dan, don't do It!"    "Do what?", I asked.    "I know 
what you're thinking, and it's not worth it."  She then proceeded to tell me how she would not 
be alive if someone had not found her after she tried to commit suicide after her first 
divorce.  "So, don't do it!"  It was like being hit in the face with cold water!

After hanging up the phone, I realized that she had heard something in my voice to spark 
her comment, and I would have killed myself that night had it not been for her.  I tried to 
sleep, but to no avail.  I decided to go to see an old friend whom I had worked with when I 
was a youngster.  He drove a bread truck, and I used to help him with deliveries.  When I 
saw him I told him that I had nowhere else to go, and didn't know who else to talk to.  
Without hesitation he said, "How much do you need...1,000, 2,000...5,000?"   "No, I just want 
to borrow a few hundred dollars to keep the creditors at bay until I can get myself a job."  
He reached into his pocket, pulled out a roll of bills, handed me $200 and said, "Call me 
tomorrow!"  A second dose of that cold water.

When I called the next day, he had gotten me a job driving one of the bread trucks.  I 
worked for almost a year at that job, paying off most of the creditors in that time.  And 
every time that I wanted to give back the $200 he would say, "Put it in your pocket, you need 
it more than I do".   

That was long ago and seems like a different lifetime.  Yet, I still remember vividly those two 
angels who helped me to still be here to write this for you.  Yes, I was a real lemon...They 
made me into lemonade which can't thank them enough!









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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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The Good Earth

My daddy was a farmer, 
a good one who knew how to 
manipulate the elements in order
to achieve agricultural success. 

He was well aware that all 
of the elements play their part
and are necessary for growth but
the most tangible one is the soil.
I have seen him take
a handful, smell it,
work it and then let it
run through his fingers back
to the good earth from which it came.

If it smelled sour, he would take loads of lime 
and spread them over his vast fields.
If it clumped as he worked it, he knew
it was too wet and he must have patience.
Dry, lifeless soil alerted him
to add living organisms.

He would top dress the soil 
with aged manure,
collected free of charge from
his livestock, cows,
sheep, horses, chickens.
Nothing went to waste on the farm.
Or he might know it was time to
rest a field for a season,  
He would plant a cover crop
which would grow and
be plowed back into the soil
to give it new vigor.

He planted on faith that
the rains would come,
the sun would shine
and the winds would be still,
when the crop seeds  were ripe.
Heavy winds could take his seeds before
he could safely harvest them.

Next year he would start again
and prepare his soil
so that all elements could work together to
insure success. 




Won 3rd


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Mission Of The Messiah

Christ climbed upon the mountain 
To tell us of His love for all 
And teach us how to forgive our fellow man 
To lend a hand to those who might stumble and fall 
The mission of the Messiah 
Was one of His own choice 
The painful path Jesus tread upon 
We will never have to walk 
His rocky path was one 
Of blood sweat and tears 
He bore the pain and took the shame 
To chase away our sinful fears 
Then He asked of His Father 
Salvation for us all 
The mission of the Messiah 
Answers the Father's call 

 

David Gary Pennington 

 


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Come Autumn

"Come Autumn, come Autumn,
Paint the world!
Trees, give me gold,
And riches unfurled!",

The poor man sang,
in a pile of leaves
under the Autumn trees,

The branches digest,
And the gold fell down
Upon the man's happiness,
And all around

And for once,
The man in rags
showered with gold,
was rich.


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Looking Back

Every time I look back
I can remember the good
Maybe I will never get the chance
I still think of the dance
I am glad I didn't know
The way that this would end
Or the path on which it would go
But whenever I think of it
I will always get that grinn
Even if it is a sin
No matter the past
The future will win...


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My World

My world has always been a world of eternal dusk not so dark I could not see but not light enough to see more then a foot in front of me. There are other people in this world I can just barely see them. They are transparent just outlines of people when I watch them move it seems like the air around them is honey they move so slow. I have screamed at them them but they seem unable to hear or see me and I pass right through them If I reach for them. As the years have gone by I have grown to realize that they are not just outlines but I'm the one who is not fully here. This is how I have been living my life as an outline and as the years kept passing I found myself becoming less and less of what I was,slowly began to lose my mind. No longer trying to get people to see me or hear me I have been walking up and down the same road mumbling to myself for the past 10 years. But a week ago a light appeared just a dim light far off into the distance but a light none the less. I have been slowly drawn to this light ever since. It's still so far away but I have begone to hear a soft female voice calling to me. But I'm fading so fast I am trying with everything I have left to reach that light and find where the voice is coming from.


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God Still Rules My Life

 

What do we as Christians do,
    To get our point across to you?
Is violence the only way to make you understand,
    We are not going to take it any longer this is our land.
In a land of democracy the majority rules, 
     It’s time for us to wake up stop acting the part of the fool.
Christianity still leads the way in America today,
     So I think it’s time for us to let the minority hear what we have to say.
For too long we have sat back and swallowed our pride, 
      I for one am not an ostrich and I will not stick my head in the sand to hide.
Start letting the bunch that run our government know what we want.
      Let them know there will be hell to pay if they don’t.
Now they are giving birth control to our children at schools without our consent.
      That gives kids the go ahead and that gets me bent.
Plus they are taking away our God given right of having a say on what they can 
teach our child .
      No wonder things are getting so screwed up and kids are going wild.
I’m not blaming our kids or the schools, I am blaming us the parents for letting 
things get this far.
      Mrs. Goodie Two Shoes and Roger Doright can make rules up all they like, 
but in my house I wear the star.
My kids are grown and now I am raising a grandchild that I love dearly.
     So I know what is happening I see it clearly.
If we don’t draw a line it will only get worse.
     So I ask for support in putting our Lord back where He belongs and that is 
First.
     Thank You!!!


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Ego or Truth

All I have is one external voice
But I have many internal voices
Not the kind of voices that make me crazy
Although the natural struggle is a bit insane

So many thoughts to express with my words
So many words to express with my voice
Expression is subjective
But my voice is absolute

There is a struggle between ego and truth
Ego is judgment, jealousy, envy, rage and hate
Truth is only love.

The rollercoaster cycle is inevitable
I choose to move through it with grace
And take lessons from it

It’s the natural cycle of things
Up, down, round, and round loop the loop
Then come back down

Then strait and still, 
back to love, back to truth
My voice is absolute


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Sheik

sleek onyx fur glistens in the midday sun while her blood saturated saliva pools in the dirt below her she howls in grief closing her eyes, she opens her ears to listen they are coming the smell of decaying flesh makes her stomach turn yet she knows what she must do she waits her heart beats fast as she accepts this fate she is close to vomiting just a few more steps tensing her muscles, readying for the fight she takes one long breath and lunges they are on her now and bile rises in her throat as the rotten flesh sticks in her teeth yet she continues she has to do this, rip their flesh so she rips and rips and rips until there is nothing left nothing but shreds of skin and innards resembling confetti if confetti were always so sticky with blood finally allowing herself to purge all this evil she sits on her haunches and breathes it is done the dead are, well, dead again but her family has not returned to her so her anguish remains but what is done cannot be undone so as she looks up at the sky, now brightened by the moon and stars she closes her eyes and listens once more haggard breathing unsteady footsteps and then...Daddy?


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Softly Spoken Scream

I was once out walking
on the road of life one day.
Didn't know when I fell down
that, that was where I'd stay.
I didn't even know that I tripped.
I was tripping on something else.
I didn"t have any directions
but I sure didn't ask for help.
I wondered where I was going
at least a couple times I think.
I told the guy in the mirror once
and then left him with a wink.
I laughed it off so easily. 
I thought it was the life for me.
Sometimes someone would pull me aside
and try to make me see.
I thouight they were just jealous.
That they weren't having any fun. 
their lives were just so serious
and I was strolling in the sun. 
Then one day I woke up
and it was pouring rain.
I tried to think where I was
but remembering was a strain.
Getting lost in yesterday
with tomorrow still a dream.
Watching satan laughing
at my softly spoken scream.
I thought that I hit bottom.
But much to my suprise.
I looked and found a trap door
with a basement there inside.
I still didn't think it was my fault.
I blamed everything else instead.
The only way I was getting out
was either institutionalized or dead.
I prayed to God to help me.
To get out of my personel hell.
Then I heard my conscience
and it was clear as a bell.
That guy that was out walking
has now found someone to blame.
That guy that fell and didn't get up.
They're one and the same.


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I seem to arrive

The sun does shine and the sky is blue
I walk out the door the world looks brand new
All the things I see are as they were before
Perhaps my eyes are open a little bit more.

The birds are singing and flying above the ground
The Squirrels are chasing each other around
No one else here just me and this world
Like flowers opening up the beauty is unfurled.

It seem most of my life I’ve taken so much for granted
It seems to limit my options and my opinions became slanted
Today I just marvel in all of the sights
Where once had been darkness now there is light.

I go to this place right down the street
I see the world placed at my feet
I find a bench and grab a seat
No one is around it feels like a treat.

The only sounds come from the animals around
The dew dries from the grass without making a sound
It is so green and lush it makes me feel alive
With no destination I seem to arrive.


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" Keep Talking " by Pink Floyd

For millions of years mankind lived just like the animals.
Then something happened which unleashed the power of our imagination.
We learned to talk.


These are the words spoken by Stephen Hawking on Pink Floyd's track  Keep Talking
from the Album - Division Bell from 1994.


Is it not a sad indictment on us humans, that we were graced with the cleverist of 
intellegence,
yet we can hardly use it.

I wrote a poem today called Gorillini, and this is the last two lines:-

We are barely their servants
The real King of the primates


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Prayer Request

Please say a prayer,
for my family today,
we are facing,
a storm of grey.

Many of you,
who know my sorrow,
keep giving me hope,
for each new tomorrow.




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Imagine

If all the things I have right now were taken away and I had nothing left I would fantasize about nature and how beautiful it is. I would imagine that I was swinging on an old tire swing in front of a river. In the river were little ducks and I would go feed them. In my life right now I don’t think of nature that way. I think if my freedom was taken away I wouldn’t take it for granted the way I do and I would know how much it actually means to me. I would also imagine my family getting together for my family reunion. We would usually have them in September. My aunt would make her fancy white cake topped with chocolate drizzle. My grandma always made her jello cake; I still don’t know exactly how she makes it. The others would bring KFC, at least three boxes full of chicken and fries. All the kids would sit together and play games and laugh as we threw food at one another. We would have a game where the kids lined up from age 1 to age 13 and you would get to pick a prize appropriate for your age. I would always get stuck with bath soap and tooth brushes.I take a lot of ordinary things for granted and I think a lot of people do but they won’t admit it. Sometimes I even take life and my freedom for granted. I think that if maybe we wouldn’t take things for granted like the trees or our freedom that maybe our lives would be a lot better and things wouldn’t happen the way they do. I have lived long enough to know that it won’t happen, nothing happens the way you want it to. Just a few months ago I lost my grandma and I couldn’t do anything to help her. I took all of the things she did for granted and now that she’s gone I miss her. She used to make this tuna casserole, it was just amazing but I never told her just how much she meant to me. I think if I would have told her that more then I wouldn’t feel so guilty or depressed that she is gone. I never told her what I needed to. If people could use the words of John Lennon “Imagine Peace” and actually think about it then maybe the world wouldn’t have to end because there wouldn’t be any enemies, murders, drugs, none of the bad things would have happened. If we could have just accepted everyone around us for who they are and known that one day we all have to die, we could have stepped back from it all and said I had a good life and I don’t regret any of it. I think it’s no good to step back from something and tell yourself that you could have done something to prevent it.


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Hope in Darkness by John Caleb Martinez 8th grade

The darkness is filling up my room
  nightfall is coming very fast.
Today was really filled with gloom
  good thing the days never last.

I look at my closet and there I see
  something glaring at me.
It's not that big but it will do
  it fills me with joy and not gloom.

This small thing..., it is called hope!
  It is always found, even when I mope.
But it's never lost and never goes
  and this little thing never slows.


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What's Love Got To Do With It?

When she is pregnant, the father long gone, the street her home, she knows she cannot 
afford, or provide for you, yet, will not allow you to be forcefully taken from her womb.

When you are born, she leaves you on a door stoop instead of in a garbage dump.

Where after years of hardship and pain, she finds you once again, you reject her, then 
chastise her sin, send her away, do not let her defend against the hell she lives in.

When you marry in front of all your family and friends, the only one absent, your mother, 
you give nary a thought whether she is alive or dead.

When the day comes your children wonder why you never talk about your mother, they 
question what she did, to make you despise her, like no other.

When you realize there was no shame, she gave life over death, she gave you a chance you 
would never have, a home with a bed, instead of a crate over a grate.

When finally you search, years go by, until one day you discover her upon her death bed, 
your head awash with memories missed, those, you will never have, you look upon a face, 
you once looked upon with hate, tears held in check all these years, flow freely, 
overwhelmed with emotion, barely able to speak, she takes your hand, smiles, then closes 
her eyes.

The last she sees, her son at her bedside telling her he loves her, he wants more time, she 
dies peacefully, happier in this moment than any other time.

What's Love Got To Do With It?
Everything!


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There is Life Beyond Death's Door Part III

away like she did, made him ask what was going on. That yielded no response. The 
silence hung heavily in the kitchen. Finally, he asked, “Is Brian in his room?”  He 
looked at my oldest sister, Winnie who sat next to Papa. She didn’t respond. 
Instead, she looked up at him with tears in her eyes.  Thomas was as tall as Brian.  
At 14years old, they were 6’ tall. Winnie bowed her head to hide her tears.  She 
looked down at her plate before her. Thomas turned halfway around and was about 
to head towards the door leading towards Brian’s room, when Papa let out a deep, 
long sigh and motioned to Thomas to come sit next to him. Winnie got up to give 
Thomas her chair and Papa, with his voice low and cracked, told Thomas that his 
best friend had passed away. The humming of the fridge seemed much louder 
then.   Looking back now, seeing Thomas’s face, I knew he wanted to laugh but he 
stopped just short of that, and his countenance changed in an instant! A painful 
grimace appeared on his face.  His voice became shaky as he tried to mumble 
something.  He looked at each of us as if checking each face to see if someone 
would soon break into laughter, at this absurd joke. After a while, he took a deep 
breath, convinced now, that he was reading everyone’s face correctly. Brian’s Dad 
wouldn’t joke about something like this. He thought to himself. Then all the reactions 
he had seen as he entered the kitchen, finally registered, confirming that this was 
not a joke.  He nearly fell out of the chair, as it toppled over to the floor.  He began 
retreating slowly towards the kitchen door; his whole body still visibly shaking, he 
said loudly, shaking his head in disagreement, that it wasn’t possible.  “It is just not 
possible!” He shouted. Yet, there was no response.  Winnie was sobbing, tears 
rolling down her face.  He then asked if Brian had run away or something. Still the 
room was as quiet as a tomb. Not a sound from anyone, only the constant humming 
and the hymns being played on the local Christian radio station softly wafted across 
the room. He then blurted out, “Because,” he


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Defense

I have always been alone it seems. This life has taken everything from me all my friends have gone walked away into the light where I can't follow. All my family has left and wont tell me where they have gone. So over the years my defenses have been built up and are strong. First the towering outer wall, surrounded by the dead bodies of people that could never get through. Next we have the inner wall, with two guard towers at either side. This wall is not as strong or high but the towers always filled with guards and weapons to strike down any and all who approach. People have reached this far many a time but almost all have fallen here. Second to last is a huge iron gate surrounded by a moat of battery acid to keep all from swimming it. The gate is thick and has never been lowered willingly, the gate keeps all out of the city that is my soul and heart. Only a select few have reached this far and a couple have forced there way in. Then last within the city, there is a golden vault door keeping all out of my inner sanctum. These defenses have been tested and tried but never have they all fallen. So imagine how shocked I was the day I was walking within my sanctum and out of a puff of smoke you appeared without any warning.........


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Forgotten Fate

Introduction: For those who’re wandering confused within the lost and found - seeking silence…


Truth be never futile Stay and see awhile, Call back your forgotten dreams And feel that frozen smile, Linger of Love be worth eternal wait; When the time is right – That verity we do still hate And later we wind up too late, There forth we get lost in fate We get bemused with our innate That we can’t still relate, Don’t take on yourself as bate As never you trust an inmate, Our hopes and thoughts they fade away And we just see closed gates, So slay the lies, dig up the truth Someday you shall find, your forgotten fate…


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Beneath the Snow

I saw a twig from beneath the snow
Yet, nothing from this image proved
That life survived or life let go
The will or jewel or soul less moved
To be described or cherished, no?
What bright sunlight once regaled
The splendor of its name to know
Or girth of shade less height narrated
By friend or foe.
Beneath its benevolence survived
The warring tide of greed and pride
In selfish arrogance revived
The fate of many to provide.
Long ago, days less renowned
Witnessed steadily nature’s tide
When forests grew tall and sound
On healthy unpolluted ground.
Those days were numbered by God alone
Who created everything known
That one day this tree would die
In corruption lie.
No longer proud beneath the snow
Only memories would we know
To place in mind that like our kind
We share this fate to find.

 

 



  


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The Perfect Gift

Nine months is not very long...although
it seems forever, since you've been gone.

I still remember that knock at the door, two
strangers, I recognized, by the uniforms they wore.

Disbelief in the words, I heard them say...killed in
action, on Christmas Day.

When you left me, for a land far away...I ask Jesus
to keep you safe.

I have been so alone, with just my memories of you,
but today your Christmas Present arrived, and he is
so cute.

He came into this world, giving me back my life,
someone I can hold , all through the night.

Merry Christmas, my sweet soldier...the words 
I never got to say, you gave me a gift so perfect,
in every way.

Even though you are not here, to hold your son,
I promise, he will always know his father, and the 
good you have done.

We will decorate our tree in Red- White- and Blue...
"This year, and always, in remembrance of you."

Merry Christmas from us both, your wife, and baby son,
we will all be together one day....when our work is done.


"Please, pray for our soldiers."




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The Angel In My Heart

                                       To my mother who had a kind soul.
                                          
                                    To grow up and be like you was my goal.

                                           You were so kind to all you met.

                                            A trait I haven't conquered yet.

                                            Some day I hope to be like you.

                                          Trying to master the things you'd do.

                                          I know you're up there looking down.

                                         I hope I'm not here making you frown.

                                   You've been gone from here for twenty six years.

                                      And even though I've shed my share of tears.

                                            In that short time you spent on earth.

                                           You showed how much one life is worth.

                                              I treasure the time I spent with you.

                                                 My love for you was always true.

                                          The fondest memories I know we've shared.

                                          You always showed me how much you cared.

                                                   I know your life now is supreme.

                                                  We'll meet again in my next dream.


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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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Thoughts of New York


The ashes and the dust fall like snowflakes to the ground
They seem to drift down gently not knowing where they're bound
I think of all those souls scattered in all the debris
In the ashes of destruction, their souls are finally free.

I think of people jumping like from the pan into the fire
People hand in hand, consumed by their desire
Just a few seconds, until it all will end
The thoughts that they had of making that final descend.

All those tiny pieces of what is left of a dream
The terror in their eyes as they faced the final scene
The dust that settles down are their scattered souls
Seeping into cracks,  falling into holes.

I wonder of life as the cloud of death surrounds
Their voices all are silent, yet their spirit's still around.
I wonder where the dream turned into a nightmare
As I look at the destruction, of the future I am scared.

Where once workers built they see nothing but destruction,
They cut through twisted wreckage, what's left of their construction.
I think of all the people that had to live through this hell
Then I hope we learn some lesson, I hope we learn it well.

There needs to be understanding that we're all not the same
We need to find the answer, instead of assigning blame.
I think of all those heroes, there were so many.
As they look for survivors, hoping to find any.

I wonder of the future what will all this bring
I think of those lost souls as the bell begins to ring.
People join together I hope we find a way?
We need to remember yesterday, as we rebuild today.


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Rest In God's Arms

Rest in God's arms,
give your burdens to Him,
for prayers are answered,
when life seems so grim.

He will lift you up,
from the canyon so deep,
He will give you joy,
in your heart to keep.

No mountain is to high,
for His love to reach,
no valley is to low,
if you believe.

Trust in His word,
and know He is love,
for with Him inside you,
you can feel His work.




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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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temptation of st. anthony

st. anthony,the patron saint of travelars and the return of things lost or stolen,
is more about our soul being and our souls quest.we are all travelars in this 
world,our true quest is our souls journey.along the way,it's possible to become 
lost or a certain sense of wandering,not knowing for sure what it is we are feeling,
but at times that inner feeling can seem more real than our perceptive reality.
the minor detours and distractions along the way are designed to influence 
moments of giving up hope and losing faith.a negative force with only one 
purpose,their "sole"purpose is to steal our "soul"purpose and to mislead and 
distract us into losing our focus of direction,ascension.it's reference to lost or 
stolen things has nothing to do with material wealth,material wealth is but that 
classic carrot dangling on a stick which we'll never reach,designed only to create 
seperation of self,like a wedge.part of st. anthony's creed is, "while treasures lost 
are found again " .......is about the true gold ,the true wealth within' , the golden 
key neccesary for our approach to the golden gate.


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REFLECTIONS

IF ONLY I HAD THIS LIFE TO LIVE OVER AGAIN:

Oh the changes I would have made.
I would have gone sleigh riding in the winter's snow,
I would have realized the miracle of the rainbow...
gazed at a sunset across the meadow.
It seems not so very long ago.
Forgive me Lord. I just didn't know!

IF ONLY I HAD THIS LIFE TO LIVE OVER AGAIN:

Oh the changes I would have made.
I would have hiked through a forest and hugged a tree...
spent more time with friends and family...
learned the lesson of the honeybee.
Unawareness is such a tragedy;
I was blind and did not see!

IF ONLY I HAD THIS LIFE TO LIVE OVER AGAIN:

Oh the changes I would have made.
I would have reflected more on what would carryon...
that which would endure long after I was gone...
thanked The Lord for the gift of each new dawn...
discovered the purpose of being born...
regrets forever I will mourn.

IF ONLY I HAD THIS LIFE TO LIVE OVER AGAIN:

Oh what different choices I would have made.
I would have set my mind on things above...
laughed more, played more, and shared God's Love...
listened to the songs of the turtledove;
for this is what life is made of.
God is the hand and we are the glove.

My eyes are slowly closing.
Something is happening to me!
There's a Bright Light I see!
I feel such peace...a serenity!


Milton L. Delgado
October 6, 1998


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Face The Mirror

Here I stand facing liquid glass,
the flowing of the faces are haunting out my past.
Stepping through the mirror to face my pulsing fears,
I pass the corridor of the damned, and collect the angels tears.

The price of pain I caused is peeling away my face,
the features that catalyst the sorrow, are crumbling with pace.
My bright blue eyes become grey stone, and wrinkles invade the smooth.
The sands of time begin to rush, as the angels cries are soothed.

The scales of justice begin to balance, as retribution hangs.
I see the writing on the wall, and written red across my hands.
I find myself truly redemptive and understand my wrong.
The angels recognise my growth, and begin their final song.

Suddenly the corridor falls, baring an empty room.
It's the attic of the house I live in, my face is back in bloom.
The mirror holds a sheet of the future, a warning in advance.
I take my errors and correct them, and start my second chance.


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The Day The Innocence Died


The cold winds are blowing the skies are so clear
Winter is upon me as the end grows near
No understanding just me and fear
The sorrow just grows as I shed a tear...

Visions of destruction are stuck in my head
As I look all around so many people are dead
A plane streaks the sky and then bursts into flames
As the fortress tumbles down nothing is left the same.

Sorrow grows in my heart as teardrops fill my eyes
There just seems no reason for all who have died
The towers tumble down and then fall to the ground
Death just arises without making a sound.

I look above thought I heard the angels cry
It just was the sound of the innocence that died.

Candles are lit as they flicker with hope
While the fate of mankind seems to hang from a rope
People gather together to share how they feel
It's just so much happened it doesn't seem real.

Visions reappear as the bell starts to toll 
It's seems to ring out for all those lost souls
Where once stood a fortress there now is a hole
I try to run and hide but there's nowhere left to go.

There's silence today no planes in the sky
The bell just tolls on as the day passes by
I feel so much sorrow I can't help but cry
A country in mourning the day the innocence died.

I try to make some sense but still can't understand
How can I go on I don't know if I can?
I feel like a stranger in a stranger land
It's the day of no innocence the time is at hand.

Visions retreat my mind needs a rest
I try to survive I give it my best
But I just can't stop thinking of all that has died
I can't shake the sorrow guilt stands at its side.

I wonder what happened where it all went wrong
The freedom that we have lost becomes what we long
It's history repeating as we hear that same sad song
Is it too late now that the innocence is gone?


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The Sea Blue Eyes II

There she is the false image standing quietly
She is just standing looking at a beautiful flower
She notices her passion of earthy desire
Something is happening she burst into the sun
I look up as her hands grasp my face
Her sea blue eyes gazed at me
Her warm hand and then a bright light blinded me
I went down on my knees and cried
The salty water dropped on to the ground 
I live by the ocean so deep
I do not know how to swim
By the thought of a beautiful look 
That made me shake
With fear in my head I saw those Sea Blue Eyes
I cannot restrain myself she burst into the sun
What is going on is it just the feeling of being left behind
She was a desire and now I have none
Driving nuts and insane what will I do
Believing such a image is a dream
I walk on the sand by the ocean with flowers in my hand
Raising it to the sky and trying my best to lure her
The image came close 
It pulled me into the ocean I was soaked
What a lonely human being I am
I grope the sky with such desire
I look pitiful and look anguished
What horrible feeling I have to pull the beauty that is nature down
The wind blew one day the image once more appeared
A young woman standing beside a flower with deep Sea Blue Eyes
Looked at me a glance of hope and happiness came
I reached for her and all of a sudden I fell into a deep sleep
Months past they had told me that I jump off a cliff 
They explained that the flower patch was by it
I realize heaven and earth cannot be reached with out a sacrifice
With meaningless thoughts I would wonder of to the cliff area
To see the ocean were it meets and ends
I was told a story long ago that the feelings of the ocean can seep into your soul
The trend of this story came shortly after some deaths
I was fooled the lady with the Sea Blue Eyes can manipulate anyone
Ladies and men, she is an illusion of the utmost desire
Blaming everyone human kind knowing they are lyres
The ghostly images that creeps everyone is oneself
Desire falls upon those who are lonely 
Believe of the unnatural becomes science
The Sea Blue Eyes is no lie cause they have been taking souls
Through century they have been taking souls for tolls
I stood once again near the ocean reaching to the sky
Lonely I was ready to disappear 
One day she not the lady of the sea it was the one I knew
I was blessed that day she embrace me 
I then fell into a slumber of bliss and desire
Now I just hear voices and I am paralyze down
A disappointment I was fooled once more by the Sea Blue Eyes 

To be continue.


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Bittersweet Wisdom

Death, in its unhurried wisdom
ends all doubt and sorrow.
It is a lasting remedy for all
illness, insecurity and loneliness.
The finality of it ends all pain, with
a sweetness not otherwise known.
It's sweetness is known only by those,
who, in their passing,
have smelled its fragrance.
The pain of those left behind
has a fragrance all its own, a bittersweet
emanation that assails the
senses with its pungency. The strength of
the void, left by the passing
of one loved seems endless.
Time and faith, working in unison,
will lessen the strength and fill the void.


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UNKNOWN TIME

It was a miserable day out 
once during the hot summer
all through the evening
I heard only the children playing outside;
I looked out through my window
to recollect my childhood days..
something i found at that moment
a smile on my face
with tears in my eyes
I imagined that was a life otherside.

I saw the sun to settle down but 
that evening the moon didn't wake up
The stars were somewhere in the sky
that day it was out of sight through naked eyes.
A calm environment made someone's whisper louder
moment later a strong wind breaking that whisper
making miserable haunted clattering sounds outside.
Again i looked through my window
now i found the environment has changed 
from a hot sunny day to a dark lightning evening;
drops of water falling from the dark thunder clouds.
I experienced three different situations on the same day
from a miserable summer day to a calm evening 
from the calm evening to a haunted dark night.

I closed my eyes and counted from hundred to one
'it had been a miserable day
once during the hot summer;
It had been a painful life
once making a long journey'
'all through the evening
i heard only childrens' playing outside;
all through my life
i heard my own voice from inside'
'i looked through my window
to recollect my childhood days;
I asked my own heart
where i found only one name'
something I found at that moment
a smile on my face
with tears in my eyes
I imagined that was a life otherside.

I closed my eyes and counted from one to hundred-
I realized day by day my love to her perished down
this realization brought me a new life
but i found no love left within me
until i learnt there were no more water left in my eyes.
i met that unknown time when i heard another whisper
but moment later love brought me a natural death.
again i asked my heart
now i found it answered something has changed
from love to the coldest end.
I picked up the broken glasses and tried to see my own face
the images i got are solely all different.
and I'd rather remember it as it was at its best than mend it 
and see the broken glasses as long as I live.

------------------x---------------------------------


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Seeking Hope by Alexandros Carellas 7th grade

Hope is where I seek God.
   He helps me throughout the day,
No matter how I pray.

Hope is for the kids that
   suffer throughout the day...
but I still pray.

Hope is in the house...
   I pray in the house...
I sleep in the house...

But I still have a roof over 
   my head.

Hope that's all you need
   to succeed.


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So Pretty by Brandon Serrano 7th grade

It is just so scary
and I just don't know.
I even have fear.

She's just so pretty
and I'm not good looking either.
I wish there was some way
I could just talk to her.

I truly wish to impress her
but I just don't know how.
I really need some help.

I really hope for a chance.
Does she like me?
Or does she like someone else?


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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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Where do I belong


The sun comes up to start the day
I feel the warmth of it’s rays
I’m searching for the words to say
Something seems to get in the way.

I brought back to memories of my sister
I understand how much I miss her
A teardrop comes and then it goes
Where does the time go nobody knows?

I think about the journey I am on
The path is before me but then it’s gone
I wonder did I take too long
I just can’t find where I belong.

I wander through the rest of the day
I get lost in the words you say
We don’t have tomorrow let’s live for today
I begin to see things a different way.

I take an inventory of what I received
The world has brought me to my knees
I look to the sky and ask God please
I turn to run but I just freeze.

It’s funny how it all works out
Understanding arises from the shadows of doubt
I turn to speak but start to shout
What is my life all about?


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GRACE (cont. 3 )

I reminisce, of my lonely youth : every other month a different MOM and DAD.
        I often pretended to be happy : I never PRETENDED to be (MAD) or SAD.
        Excuse me sir; my name is GRACE We thank-you for your generosity.
        I look upon the innocent with their magical, mystical , hide me from 
everything cloak
        I  could see, through a tiny glimps of their eyes These children were strong 
as an oak.
        As I drifted, in a daze : my brain not cognizant; floating nowhere, until Grace 
spoke.
       We are children of darkness, the daytime people look at us in disgust, we 
prefer night.
        Mama died, and DAD is LOST : I know not who to turn to; I cried somber 
tears :
                                                                     FOR THESE CHILDREN OF THE NIGHT


                                       ( to be continued )


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Ekphrasis-DESCENT FROM THE CROSS

Jesus' dead body is taken down from the cross slowly,
Nicodemus' hands support it while His mother Mary,
not contorted by grief, is consoled by a glorious vision,
which will be revealed in the majestic morning of resurrection;
Mary Magdalene, not a virgin or chaste woman...once a part of the sinful world,
shares in that undying hope when Christ will be awaken by the trumpets sound.


Carved in precious marble by Michelangelo's masterful hands and ingenuity,
this awesome depiction is more intense than his own undisputed religiosity,
Christ still bleeds for Mankind's salvation, but death will not prevail;  three long
days He will lay down in the darkest and coldest tomb, and towards dawn
He will be resurrected by the voice of the Father whom He invoked before He died...
yes, sorrow is deeply expressed by these three figures, but their tears will be exiled!  
  

And Michelangelo abandoned the unfinished sculpture due to a marble's imperfection,
not realizing that he had captured the excruciating expression of the sacrificial Lamb,
and before these wailing faces, he must have knelt and fervently prayed,
humbly staring at Christ's lifeless head drooping and believing in Man's redemption;
and Nicodemus' face has indeed Michelangelo's resemblance, exuding much revelation... 
come closer, unbeliever and stare at this magnificent sculpture with profound admiration. 


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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hope - part one

for you, m
-------------

pale horse led by shrouded spectre through foggy thicket
dark days behind them illuminated by soaring ember skies
saturated soil slick under their feet impeding their ascent
leafy shelter their only escape from the rainy elements

their trek is treacherously long, winding over the countryside
days on end, not another living, breathing soul in sight
the spectre locked in inescapable conversation with his mind
rationalizing the pain and loss given and taken without ask

muscles sore, aching back, throbbing feet, gasping lungs
resting against damp bark, drinking water from a leaf
looking, his eyes piercing through the thick foilage
a sign of life comes to him, the humming of a muse's song

a lady in white, aimlessly about, content to herself
her fingertips gently caressing both flora and fauna
stumbling over a tree root, her majestic dress soiled
the spectre witnessing, rushes over, aiding her recovery

her arm draped over his neck, rolled ankle hindering her steps
taking her fully into his arms, he seats her atop his steed
back on route to new life, the company now made three
her inquiries met with silence, not so much as a name spoken

destination reached, he retrieves the damsel from on high
carrying her through the inn threshold, to her rented loft
dressing her ankle, elevating it and massaging away discomfort
his eyes fixated on hers, remnants of his past reflecting out

== see part two ==


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THE MOMENT OF SADNESS

While adventuring into our known destination
Encountered we some iron pillars of the storied building
Hope we then for a great adventure
Because backbones have we discovered 
To stand on and to

But a sudden volcanic hurricane erupted
This great edifies and pillars collapse
Wherein was our hope for a great adventure
Could this great edifies and pillars be unfortified?
Sad became we as all hope was almost lost

And while telescoping into our destination 
Imaginations fill our hearts where we would’ve been
No soul could help but be sad at this juncture
And wondered we why this sudden collapse
Then discovered we by expertise a faulty foundation
This indeed was a moment of sadness

But the west wind blew to-us-ward
And there came sudden restoration of hope
Now I know the ills of faulty foundation
And the dangers of its damages
But hope was restored
As discoveries were made by expertise 


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HAPPY OR HURTING WE BLESS


HAPPY OR HURTING WE BLESS

Seeking happiness in a world of misery
Is futile folly indeed.
We're not here just to be happy,
But to help others in need.

If in the course of life
We experience happiness,
We'll find that as we pass it on,
We are doubly blessed.

But if sorrow rips our hearts apart,
That helps us others to heal,
By letting those we find in pain,
Understand we care how they feel.


Wounded Healer
Submitted 8/25/09
Written 8/25/09


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STRANGER

This strange feeling doesn’t seem to leave
But it only becomes more extreme.
Everything around me seems positive
Ready to take on the world before me.
Nothing can diminish my enthusiasm
And I hope how I feel is not a spasm.

If only I knew what to make of it
I would know what to do with it.
I pray that this is not temporary
For I want to be in this state for eternity.
Now I see things I could never before
And want things I thought I never needed.

I hope this feeling that was a strange for me
Does not become a stranger to me.
No more do I want to put it off for long
But want to indulge in this till it lasts.
I wish to have this stranger inside me
And pray it lasts till the last breath in me.


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Hope, Faith and Love by Crismarie Perdomo 8th grade

Through horrifying, death, sickness, poor and helplessness,
it is a scar the world will never heal from 
but you still have to have hope.
Is it faith?
The people we love die everyday.
Is hope what we fight for?
Hope is the only thing we have to survive.
Hope is the light that guides us.
When someone is missing a soul, you help and give them hope.
Hope is the joy of life.
Hope is the bird with wings to guide you if you're lost.


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This New Life I Found

My words always seem to find a new home.
The journey is easier when you’re not alone.
People reach out to lend a helping hand.
Help me to realize, just who I am.

The days pass and I move down the road
Over the rainbow may be that pot of gold.
First I must dream for them to come true.
What you become becomes a part of you.

As the day goes I slip into night.
The moon and stars are now in sight.
They are like beacons to guide me from dark.
The dogs bite remain much worse than it bark.

 I just close my eyes I am almost there.
I seem to remember I just need to care.
Whenever I slip I raise myself up.
When I have thirst I drink of life’s cup.

Soon the sun rises brings forth this new day.
Maybe the dream shall come true today?
As it shines down it warms the ground.
I look with surprise at the new life I found.

Every day is different though seems the same’.
I step up to the mark because it is my name.
I don’t know the future or where I am bound.
I learn to embrace this new life I found.


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Honor To Mother Mary is Honor To Father Christ

“The honor of the Mother reflects on Father Christ”
“Whatever honor and praise are given to the Mother bounces to the Son”
“The honor given to the Queen bestowed on the King”
The Honor we give to the Mother of the Lord was referred to Him Who was made incarnate (personified) of her”

The Mother is honored for her Son’s sake”
“Indeed in loving Mother Mary, we honor Eternal God”
“We will never love her as He loved her”
Father Christ was the first to honor her as His mother
“We will never be able to equal with which Father Christ loved her”

4202013


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On the holiest day marks Ashoura

Watching television these days
can draw another line; a perspective –
with a variety of advertisements, news,
talk shows and other entertainments
indeed, a so-called form of ‘literature in a hurry.’

With a spate of information to know and digest,
with discoveries rolling through events,
with episodes shown in different contexts
provide certain answers in countless reportings.

A hodge-podge of issues trembles in situations,
with that continuing war, violence and kiling;
afflict the whole world with fear and sorrow,
oh, America! Cradle of power and opportunity.

Screaming headlines in various newspapers,
continue to soar almost beyond proportion;
with endless quest and wish against tragedy,
like a Christian mantra: peace in the whole world!

Religion among the Muslim countries,
plays a vital role in their whole life spectrum;
with the Shiites, Sunnis and Baathists, for instance,
another perspective, a magnet to all devotees.

As Shiites mark Ashoura in Beirut, Lebanon,
many Shiite Muslim men march the streets;
beating their chests and others slashing their heads
like a Christian flagellation done in Lenten season.

It’s a radical interpretation with inerrancy in their culture
Such a manifestation that shows grief in human actions;
adds substance to their celebration – being holy,
there’s deep supplication across the length of day;
albeit, the cry of pain makes them strong in their faith.

Note:

Ashoura.  The tenth day of Muharram – the Shiites’ holiest day.  It marks the killing of Imam Hussein, the grandson of Prophet Muhammad, in 680 A.D. battle at Karbala in Basra, Iraq.


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Me and Him

We can't share this body any longer Him and Me.He is killing me and draining me of my strength.He is a weak and pathetic excuse for a person. Oh how I despise him He is always crying and Constantly trying to kill us both. He has even come close a couple times it was my strength that brought us back! Oh how he makes my blood boil. I want him gone, I want to kill him! But he runs and hides from the light and has survived everything I have thrown at him. His only good quilty is that He just wont die. He is nothing but a cockroach and I want him GONE!


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Mother Our Lighthouse

Your love surronds us like a lighthouse on the shore
God had a purpose this is what He made mothers for
always a beacon that shines so bright
always giving hope in the deep of night
He made you our mother with so much love
a light of hope and always a hug
He gave you wisdom so you would know
just how to guide us back to the shore
safe from harm and  lost no more
He made you so beautiful like a garden in spring
God has a reason for everything
He gave you a heart and filled it with love
a special gift from God above
a mother is special in so many ways
a lighthouse for her children everyday
we will miss you our mother when you are with us no more
but a lighthouse you will be on God's golden shore


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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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Don't Tell

A cold drop of rainwater fell on my eye,
          Awakening me from a deep sleep;
I felt queer:
              "Hope my freckles haven't faded,
For summer's come and gone;
                     Today is cleaning day...
Bedroom...first;"
                   I turned on John Mellencamp,
And washed my walls which
                       Were painted antique white;
After rearranging my furniture,
             I placed on my brass bed, a new
Ensemble of white satin ~ oh, so gentle;
   "I really hope my freckles haven't faded,
For summer has come and gone;"
        I carefully washed my window till it...
Squeaked,
Then stood for a long while;
        I removed my oversized flannel shirt,
and felt the sun's warmth on my breasts;
"Perhaps my freckles faded but little;"
Upon buttoning my shirt, I hung exquisite
              White satin curtains that brushed
                                       The floor;
Candles of violet, light blue and white
Were placed randomly throughout,
Just prior to polishing the sturdy oak floor;
       Finishing touch...a crystal chandelier...
Heroic...Hanging from my ceiling...
          I stood in admiration...observing the 
Magical sun dancing in hues of red, violet
                                 And blue;
As I showered, the warm water enchanted
My slender body...and...my soul;
             Never before had I felt so peaceful;
As I slowly massaged my thighs with
     Vanilla cream, I observed that freckles 
Yet coveted my nose...bosom...legs...
    Summer embraced my waist and softly
          Whispered the secret into my ear...
I proceeded downstairs, poured a glass
                 Of wine, then...

              I politely asked my lover to leave.


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Sam, I am

If I had a secret that I wanted to share with you Dare you open your mind and let my creativity ensue? I don’t build bridges with bricks, I hang them with rope I can generate your fantasies and incubate your hope Open the pages of my mind, reading the fiery words of my heart Enter Pandora’s Box, and the epic journey will start! Follow me down south, through the mirror of liquid glass You’ll feel the calmness take over and watch the fear pass What a wonderful feeling, letting your inhibitions go into the night Now step forward onto the phoenix, as you drift into the light This journey isn’t everlasting, you know that it comes with a price? What? Did you think it was free? wouldn't that have been nice Open your eyes from delusion, and friend you will piece things together My name is Sam, Satan or The devil, that’s how I'll been known as forever! OK, so I tricked you, with my words and devilish charm What were you expecting? I’m frigging Satan dude, my job is sadistic harm! You look at me with those puppy dog eyes, you realise you've lost all of your family ties My head tells me to give you a second chance, double or quits is where my desire lies Do you accept the new twist, on my board game that is your life? I’ll take that hesitant nod as a yes, and commence this game of strife Give me the name of a family member and they can take your place However I will warn you, if you can’t then I win this twisted race No! You scream, and that’s your final answer which I’ll have to take Now I own not only your soul, but your families when they next shall wake He took my hand and promised peace for my sisters and brothers Now I’ve gambled with the devil and he owns my beloved others The deal is now done and a fiery rain begins to fall Burning me down to ash, disintegrating my world and all


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The gospel of hospitality

Described as a pillar of commitment
in relationships between hosts and guests
hospitality plays the major role
in making Scriptures speak to life situations.

The biblical recounts about these people,
like Abraham, Lot, Ruth, David, and many others;
their expressions of how hospitality is understood,
in the ancient Near East cultures and traditions;
dubbed as a sacred obligation that strangers 
be treated well and recognized as one of our own.

When the Israelites were freed from oppression,
God walked with them along the wilderness;
they might have complained so much
but God listened to them with the heart of compassion.

Those prophets and other biblical characters,
their sense of otherness makes a big explanation;
that part of being human there’s a connection
between what is needed and God’s call to everyone.

Well, Christ teaches during meal fellowships
inclusion of those who don’t flow in the mainstream;
these are the poor, oppressed, defenseless, and many others;
that they become the guests in his eternal kingdom.

It’s a great deal of openness to welcome those
immigrants in this country of opportunity;
in spite of growing difficulties in many spheres
America remains a magnet to all cultures around the globe.

While strangers these days become like a threat,
even a continuing question that knows no answer
here in this world we still find how hospitable
the American people in years of that long history of immigration.


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On Thanksgiving Day

It’s another red-letter day
a holiday in the U.S.
a national, religious holiday
known also as a ‘Turkey Day’
a very important day.

A chance to be reconnected,
a moment of being together,
a salutary occasion for gratitude,
full with family folderol.

There are historic reasons 
this American celebration
has its origin centuries ago;
as the Pilgrims did it and -
invited neighboring Indian tribes.

To hold it with a feast –
A celebration for God’s blessing.
giving thanks for a common purpose,
freedom, justice, and worship in God.
Through Sarah Josepha Hale 
this event has become a tradition
a realization that came to fulfillment
marked with significance, thus far.

With church services elsewhere
wth family reunions all over 
with customary turkey dinner
oh, a reminder of the historic past:
at the Pilgrims’  big celebration.

In many homes and families
Table fellowships spice up the day
with turkey, mashed potatoes, 
cranberry sauce, maize, pumpkin pie
and other vegetables and desserts.
a complete picture of this great tradition.


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A Glimpse Of Heaven!

I was whisked away to Heaven;
It truly must have been a dream!
How else could I be writing this,
And telling you what I had seen?

The streets are transparent gold,
I can't believe my eyes!
It's as though I am floating,
In the heavenly skies!

The multi colored city walls,
Are made of precious stone.
And everywhere you walk to,
You are never there alone!

Everywhere you look to see,
Are God's people big and small.
Most amazing to me is that,
I knew the names of them all!

Overflowing with great joy,
Were those with whom I spoke.
No one was in pain or crippled,
Nor even a heart that was broke!

It wasn't lit by sun or moon,
But by God's glorious light!
I have never before seen,
Such a beautiful sight!

Then in the light's midst,
A humbling figure I did gaze!
Jesus my Lord and King,
Falling to my knees I offered Him praise!

I was overwhelmed as,
Jesus took hold of my hand!
Welcome home He said to me,
And then He lifted me so I could stand!

He gave me a hug,
And we began to walk.
I listened intently,
As Jesus did talk!

We came to a stop,
And I looked at His face.
I said "Thank you for the cross,
And taking my place!"

"Thank you for sacrificing,
Your blood and life for me.
So I can stay here,
With you for all eternity!"

Inspired by God
12/22/2006
Neal A. Carl


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It only takes

It only takes three words to make someone happy
It only takes one action to show that you care
It only takes one second for something to become different
It only takes a lifetime to do what our parents didn't
It only takes one cry to make someone listen
It only takes one person to makes dreams glisten
It only takes one thought to creat imagination
It only took me until now to realize where my place is
Travelling with you to foreign, wonderous places.


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Jonah

The lost and found 
all walk this earth.
We trudge along
till death from birth.

At the age of eighteen
the Lord found me
wallowing around
in my misery.

I asked for His help
and He showed me His love.
But when things got better
I suddenly had enough.

I was bound and determined
to do it my way.
My lust for the flesh
led me astray.

I never even knew
I was so alone.
My heart was so lonely.
It turned to stone.

Believing my life wasn't 
as bad as it appears. 
Lost in my addiction
of sex, drugs, and beers.

Stubbornly I continued
to live the lie.
Pretending I was happy
with no love in my life.

No matter how hard I tried 
all I could do was fail.
I guess I was Jonah
and the earth was the whale.

Battered and beaten
after the world swallowed me. 
Confused inside the belly.
of the whale in the sea.

I felt like a captive
and I had to get out.
Quietly whispered prayers
with a head full of doubt.

So lost in my sins 
I didn't think He was near.
Softly I said, Lord are you there?
And You said, "I'm still here".

No longer living the life
of a sinners neglect.
Your forgiveness is love
that I'll never forget.

Now I know I haven't been forgotten.
Of this I have no doubt.
Because the Lord tickled that whale
and the earth spit me out.     Amen


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Remember

                          As we embark on the 10 year anniversery of 9/11,
                  I look up in the sky and realize how lucky I am to be alive.
                   So many people lost their loved ones on that tragic day.
        All the brave, couragous, selfeless people that ran in to help total strangers!
         They never for once thought about their life but, only wanted to others survive.
            The day the two towers fell, those suicide bomber's died and went to hell!
               The United States suffered a great loss, so much death was in the air.
        I pray every night for those who lost their life, for their families to keep astride.
          I know what it is like to lose loved ones but, in the mist of all the tragedy, 
                           a phoenix shall rise and the eagel shall fly high!
                        The terrorists thought we would just run and hide.
                             But, what we did was fly OLD GLORY HIGH! 
              We as a nation banded together and helped pray for one another.
                    September 11,2001, we will never foreget all the losses.
               All the people that did not survive, they are watching over us,
                                              dancing high in the skies!


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hope - part two

sorrowed and sullied, averting his eyes with a half-hearted smile
making his way down from her loft, on creaky steps, into the rain
over his shoulder, her fireplace casting a warm glow through her window
and the ember of hope residing inside him finally rekindled

stoking the flames, she did for nearly four annuals
until one evening, by the song of a siren, her spectre did disappear
without warning, without reasoning, without expecting return
openly she wept for his return, quietly he wept at his newfound pain

lost and tortured, he screamed - both from inside and outside himself
only his memories of the lady in white keeping him tethered to life
nearly a full decade, his persistent persecution echoing over ages
his memories of her all but gone, she now a spectre in his mind

released and relieved from the rack, his broken mind and body rest
the cool floor against his chest and cheek comforting to his soul
fragments flashing of the one, the only one, who he met so long ago
peeling his broken body from the floor, his wounds barely healed

his trek back a mirror image of the one taken from years past
taking him back to the land where his entire life went up in flames
hanging his head, he speaks to his maternal and inamoratal ghosts
finally relinquishing that pain, carrying forward, hopeful of his new life

lady in white, unsuspecting when the spectre returns
her loving embrace, warm smile and sincerity in her words melt over him
worry of her loss escaping through his first expelled breath
relief and retribution entering as his breathes her vanilla scent once more

----------
m, thank you for all you've done for me throughout the years. even when you weren't there physically, you were always that angel on my shoulder, making me question my negative actions. i am so glad to have you back in my life after so long. and i promise, i will never leave you hanging again. hugz & kisses - Raven


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When I was lost

When I sank...the friend I had were blind leaders; 
Among thorns and thistle and innocent robbers 
I did spend and spread my gold without manners;
I was rotten and dying but was soaked in flatters.

Parasites and predators build mansions within me, 
Arrows and shadows stings and threatens me: 
All these terrors I could not see but could feel,
…I was lost in the mist and could not see.

As a sheep without shepherd I went astray,
Useless as the sewage; I was rotten, stinking and decay,
Hopeless and restless; hopeful in nonsense I was all day;
For in the factory of fear and failure I did serve without pay.

In seasons of sorrow there was none to comfort 
Blind masters could only help increased my tears with cost, 
All they could offer torn my pocket and emptied my pot,
Master of all misers was I when I was lost.

The days are gone but now are stories: 
I was blind and blurred and used bad glasses,
I was weak and lame and used broken clutches 
So I came to the cross and rolled in dust and ashes. 

I surrendered my sins and sorrow;
Now, His saving grace and glory I know,
I’m free from the forceful, fiery foe,
I now enjoy God’s glory grace and glow.


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Unite

Streaming down an untouched mountain side
an innocent river tumbles to freedom in a picturesque paradise
graceful green pines brush the climbing mountain side,
standing proud in Gods grace as they sway in a blissful August breeze
I slip down a beautiful ravine into a moss covered fortress
an opening in the dense foliage reveals a bald eagle searching the basin for life
a realization engulfs my spirit soul , a special love , a beauty 
a song of grandeur echoes free.........




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Voluntary Blind

Voluntary blind
I can tell you why, if you want to know
I can show you how, if you are willing to try
I can teach you easily, If you decide to become responsible
It is not easy, but anyone can try
I see them, but feel nothing
Touching them, but have no call
Watching them moving, but I am like sleeping
If you ask me why, my kids’ future is in my mind
They are prettier than mine, but don't have my attention
Better educated and have to offer, they force me to act
But my heart is far away and my feeling is jailing
I am a voluntary blind to save my marriage
I want to save it for my kids’ future
I am engaging with God to be there for them
As he was killed to save my soul
I am voluntary handcuffed
To not using my hands because they can put me in trouble
I keep my eyes, voice, hand, knowledge, and body freezing
To save my promise to the one that I love
I am a voluntary blind to manly live not use


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Apache's Final Thoughts

Indignant, his head hung low, eyes glassy, all he has is his memories.
Within the pain he can no longer tolerate, within the hundreds of enmeshed bodies…
Stinking and rotting.
All he has is his memories.
Escaping the frightful screams of death and the smell of blood,
He is remembering his fist love. He was so young, as was she.
Beautiful girl, kind hands, sweet voice and a carrot ever present in her pocket.
They rode and rode, hundreds of miles through trails and streams, as one
They loved each other’s company. Then a day came when she never showed.
He didn’t understand…but he could sense something wrong. SHE was gone.
Never coming back.
Then came a man, callous of hand,  took him- roughly. He didn’t understand.
Pushed into a trailer, his feet fell through the rusted bottom- PAIN…
The man whipped him into another place. He stood bleeding as they drove away.
Arriving to a place. So cold, no lush grass, tiny area, no place to run and frollick-
The MAN took him out of the trailer, bleeding hocks and all- shuffled him into a barn
where the stench was raw. Threw a huge, heavy, ill fitting saddle upon his back. This man,
A Goliath even to this horse, pulled the cinch so tight he could not breathe.  A bit
shoved in his mouth.
OUCH! A spade splitting his tongue- the huge man grabbed a whip and jumped right on.
“I’ll teach you not to be a WOMANS’ horse. You are now mine- you will be a MANS’ horse, and
Work like a horse should!” Shouting, the MAN spurred the horse into action- foot bleeding
the entire time.
The spade biting into his tongue, the horse raised his head, only to be beat between the
ears- the MAN was furious.  Flying round and round they went-
   This cruelty, this circus continued for many years. He was broken of leg and spirit at
the age of ten- whence upon the MAN called the “Meat guy”, and for a few hundred this
horse was sent to his end.
He stood in the corral of death awaiting his turn, for the bolt to shoot into his brain
and slide  down the conveyor belt.
   He remembered his first love during the last few seconds- her spirit came to him…
“Join me Apache, my beautiful mount, in Heaven we will be together where no one can hurt us…
FOREVER!” 
He didn’t know what the words meant- but he knew his love was there to save him… he left
the crippled body behind and joined his true love before the cleaver sliced him apart.

*This is written for the thousands of horses sent to slaughter each year.
A. Green


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Call Archimedes Again

My heart is beating once again!
Call Archimedes from his grave so we may celebrate!
Eureka! I found it again!
My heart’s pain has gone away!
My life’s darkness has lifted away!
Stark in the middle of the wilderness I have regained the way!
Oh! How beautiful it is to see and feel me back on my way!

Eureka! I found it again!
Call Archimedes from his grave so we may celebrate again!
Writing literature in my dreams,
While praying for success in my sleep!
Writing poems in my head while strolling ahead!
Painting masterpieces in my head while bathing at midday!
Seeing tomorrow today while it’s still too much work away!
Oh! How beautiful it is to see and feel me back on my way!


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The Fantastic Voyage

Living on the edge was a suicide way before my time!
A soul spread wide open with a spirit that truly believes.
Walking on water and backwards with life that glares over the sunshine!
The fantastic voyage rides the high and almighty waves of the greatest seas.
A voyage to never-never land right where I know I will always want to be.
True uninhibited expression is my addiction all within myself.
A soul climaxing in the exhibition of capturing all of the free empty space!
Walking the planks with the thrill of excitement from what’s consumed as it’s felt,
The fantastic voyage is aimed straight for that perfect little happy place.
My voyage to never-never land is where I know I will always want to stay.
Unpredictable with such balance is my mystery out there all on its own.
My soul opens and wills me to explore the depths of all that is real or such.
Walking the tight rope and looking down with my talent so proudly shown.
The fantastic voyage is never enough but is always over by too much.
My voyage to never-never land is where I know I will always want to feel what I touch.
Deep within the depths of all the deepness is where my connection is found.
A vibrant soul with brilliance magnified by a common need that has just got to give!
Walking narrow ledges with confidence and truly the one that has got to be proud!
The fantastic voyage gained my moments in time that I can say were actually lived.
My voyage to never-never land is where I will surrender standing on top of my deadly ground!


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The pieces of the puzzle

I awake this morning and I’m really not so sure. 
I’m trying to do this jigsaw puzzle before it rains anymore.
Some of the pieces are missing, some are scattered on the floor.
Time just stands still as the fabric of life tore.

I always seem to wonder about what’s coming next,
There doesn’t seem an answer; it’s not in any text.
I just hope it better than it was before,
I brace myself to see what the future has in store.

I go out in the world but no one seems to see.
I’m walking down this path it seems it’s only me.
The leaves are changing colors in some of the trees,
Soon we shall feel the cold winters’ freeze.

All I ever wanted was just to fit in.
Instead I can’t even find a place to begin.
So I gather up the pieces, it’s time to move on.
Still I do this puzzle though so many pieces are gone.


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My Temple

Your body is My temple,
When I dwell within your heart.
To give you a new foundation,
Is what I came in to start.

Each day I work to make you,
A better person than before.
Cleansing you of bad habits,
Giving you strength to sin no more.

I know part of you will fall,
And I will quickly come repair.
That which had broken down,
I won't leave you in despair!

Each day I will forgive you,
When you confess your sins to me.
I want to beautify this temple,
For the entire world to see!

And because I live inside you,
It is Me that you represent!
So when you speak to others,
They should see you did repent!

The changes in you I make,
Will be seen by one and all.
So follow My direction closely,
I want others My name to call!

Inspired by God 

Reference; 1 Corinthians 6:9-20


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GRACE (cont.)

Her clothes where tattered and shabby : What are you doing out so late at night?
  Green eyes  speaking, before her voice : will you buy an origami swan in flight?
     I reached into my pocket : a dime, a nickel , and two pennies : seventeen cents.
         Beyond her, I saw silhouettes behind  my flowers, in my garden.
         Babies  with faces : cold and rough, expressionless, and hardened.
         Are they with you? I asked , yes she said,  I truly beg your pardon.
        Come inside : do not let the night increase the children ‘s fears.
         She grabbed her baby brother ; her two kid sisters followed her in. I cried;
                                                                                                                     Somber Tears

                                                (to be continued)


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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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Steeped in memories

I can still visualize my hometown in Gumaca, Quezon 
both in my mind and in my heart, with vivid mem’ries
rich with natural resources, the place where I was born
source of my childhood, a passage to my changing self.

It’s like a landscape of my continuing inspiration
a connecting link to my goal, the beginning of my calling.
our neighborhood and other activities at the main población
reminds me of those people who really care for their neighbors.

Their echoes of pain, hopelessness and other complaints
motivates me to keep going, follow that path that leads to God;
being called to serve Him with his influential voice within me
I can see and feel what they need with compelling movements.
people’s endless dream to grow and make a difference anyway,
becomes my own struggle, my own wish to blend in situations;
providing me with a new language that shapes me with freedom.

It resonates with profundity and claims its meaning to everyone,
those customs and traditions, popular religiosity and occupations,
they’re Filipino treasures with labyrinthine ways to articulate them
indeed, they draw people in as they take part in varioius gatherings.

Mem’ries of the past, a treasure trove of what life is all about;
being in my own homeland I can feel that I’ve my own freedom.
where I was, I grew up with friends, siblings, and other loved ones;
sometimes a challenge but characterized with so much wisdom.

Realities at hard times, economy with shortage in many banks
they’re key figures in preparation for what church says and suggests
Potuit, decuit ergo feut,  and I remember that with real gratitude
deep within my heart I see myself then with thanks and blessing.


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The end of the line


I find it harder to even write
Day becomes dark like the night.
I try to see where happiness went
I wish to find peace and feel content.

I know if I write I shall feel better
The rain starts to fall and I get wetter.
I was hoping it would be different today
The words are not what I wish to say.

As the day lingers I hold on
I don’t look back at what is gone.
I move forward one step at a time
Sometimes it feels like the end of the line.

I head into darkness moon beams I see
Maybe I’ll do better, my mind will free.
The stars sparkle they seem so bright
Maybe tonight I shall be alright.

My mind slows and begins to relax
Sometimes I fall in between the cracks.
I always manage to pick up the pieces
I lay my head down my sorrow decreases.


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A New Direction

Today is just the beginning,
of what is about to come,
a man of new ideas,
beating a different drum.

He comes to give us hope,
where none had wings to fly,
and beneath the ashes of survival,
he has the courage to try.

The changing of old habits,
where hope shall set us free,
he sees the world is waiting,
for fresh new air to breath.

He speaks with words to all,
as his title is about to change,
speaking of new direction,
but remembering from where he came.

Together as a nation,
let us stand side by side as one,
supporting a new beginning,
knowing together, it can be done.


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The Falling: Part II

Thats all she needs.
She desperatly wants his strong, protective arms to wrap around her and sheild her from this cruel world, this world that has broken her.
She desperatly needs him to whisper to her the words that would set her free.
That everything will be ok, and that he won't ever leave,
Like the many times before, where she would lie in his arms for hours
just listening to him breath in and out. His steady heartbeat playing its beautiful composition in her ear. The most signifigant sound in her world. 
She drops to her knees, pulling her drentched hair from its roots,
Screaming at the heavens.
"WHY?!"
The heavens respond with a loud bellow,
shaking the earth beneath her.
She knows the truth.

Yet she refuses to accept it.

The pouring rain continues to fall.
She continues to break.

He does not exist.
Not anymore.
He never did.

She wanted it too much.
She wanted to feel love.
She wanted to feel human.
She wanted to feel the unconditional need to be with another person,
and have that feeling returned with equal amounts of passion.

Was it too much to ask for?
Is it too much to ask for?

She can not move.
The rain starts to freeze mid air,
violently pelting her exposed body, leaving red marks as proof.
She does not care.
She can not feel.

The heavens cry out to her, begging her to get up, 
To get help.
She refuses.
All she needs is him.
Who ever He is...
Where ever He is...
She will wait.
Wait for all of eternity if need be.
She will wait for the unconditional love.
For that unruly passion that burns in both of their souls.
She waits for the man who was designed to love her,
to need her the same way she needs him.
Forever.
She waits for the man who cannot live without her warmth,
her touch. 

And with that,
She slowly, unwillingly pushes herself off the muddy pavement,
permitting herself one final glance at the angry sky,
catching a glimpse at her diamond among coal
Her only friend in the wake of night.
The moon.
"Save me, my angel...Save me."
she whispers towards the sky, allowing a tiny smile to dance across her pale, desolate face
Before returning back to her throne in her cold, abandon dungon, her in lonly, abandon castle.

Feeling a new emotion she's never felt before.

Hope.

Hope shoots across her sky like a metor.
Shinning so bright, filling her with warmth that blinds her.
The heavens cry out,
Relief.
He will find her one day.
And she will be waiting. 

[.Because Falling in love, Is giving someone the power to break you.]


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Catacombs

Webs of the fallen
Welcome me
To these stone halls
Where the dead walk free

The path below my step
So creek
Alert the dead
To make groans weak

I see my father
Laid dead and bare
I’d shed a tear
But no soul would care

I see my mother
Down proud and strong
Never I cry
But I will play her song

I see a daughter
A girl I once knew
Her car crashed on the ice
And with her I flew

I see a son
A mind beyond its age
Loved him as a brother
Ending cancer took him that day

This murk, these catacombs
All death is but a lie
Amongst these decaying hearts
Their loving memories reside

Finally death is here
To send me on my way
If I only a question to give
Is the world okay?

Death lightly said to me
The world is weary and proud
Its souls are full of dread 
And are covered in my shroud

But surprised I am still
Your hope is all around
It is larger than my will
And muffles my every sound

You have lived a life so long
But welcome to my land
I’m sorry if this welcomes wrong
We have many a man

Now I walk so willingly
From this world to the next
But happy I am still to see 
My love for life was yearly met


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Why, Oh Why

What can you say,
to soften a hard heart,
when actions, and words,
can tear you apart.

Do you ignore,
or stand there, and cry,
asking yourself,
why, oh why.

Trying to help,
I do all I can,
wanting to bring comfort,
and offering my hand.

One day I will answer,
but for only myself,
not for the ones,
I have tried to help.

I pray for you,
I pray for me,
and the understanding,
we both need.







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Under my roof

It’s a welcome departure
from the state of brokenness;
with its implication or
commitment to God, the most high.

At times in my own journey,
the struggles involved overwhelm me
make me feel unworthy
unable to see beyond
God’s message to my life.

but again, with sincere heart and acceptance,
that God’s ways aren’t our ways
to judge ourselves and others.

I see the image of God
who is the God of love;
endless in compassion
genuine in comprehension.

He welcomes the sinners
gives them another chance
like the story of Prodigal Son
his mercy bestowed on him
reminds us how merciful he is.

His great love for humankind
reaches far beyond the rationale
which is why he came here on earth
because he wants us to be like him.

His gift of life and love
the embodiment who God is.
I believe he’s always there
for us men and women
we’re part of his great plan 
to become recipients
of his saving love.

God of History, God of all
You’re the source of life
though at times I stumble
but with my repentant heart
You come under my roof
to show me that you still love me
with your love and healing presence.




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The state of my heart

It’s a journey to be reconciled with the past,
especially when one’s life still carries the wound;
it’s like a running sore that permeates the soul,
a gigantic barrier, an impediment in any way.

God’s promise, “The light shines in the darkness,
and the darkness did not overcome it.”   True!
Comparatively, some shades of darkness
have to be cleared and dispelled in one’s heart 
the revealing darkness that symbolizes pain,
closed windows that block God’s blessing.

Well, it’s a metaphor to the so-called ‘wound’
a kind of silhouette that’s difficult to mirror
a kind of misfortune that ruins disposition.

It’s hard to believe those who’re with God,
those who teach about love and respect,
yet, it’s a tragedy to see them on the contrary
because they live with hypocrisy and irony.

This is what I feel as I welcome the New Year,
mired in hope that someday healing takes place
such a great deal that needs love and understanding
that life may be whole again with a heart that cares.

The throbbing verses of cultures

Chronicled as part of history
the reality gives meaning;
it's a pathway to move along,
a commitment to future dream,
a response to what is ideal.

Addressed as a piece of literature
the struggles involved with one another.
It's a life of experience that forms,
a historical menu to savor,
an enormous task to fulfill.

Lived as a language I best hear
with silence and profound meaning;
It's a human action and reaction,
a point to what we're here for;
being called to serve -
a measure to Christian perfection.

Proclaimed as a gospel of inspiration,
with diversity of cultures
that runs through this generation,
its texture, zest and color,
aptly describes, "we're one nation."

Being grateful for various reasons
with different contexts and situations.
They're hallmarks to great civilization;
with the continuing growth amid some afflictions,
a message of hope, worthy of revelation.


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Aluta continua


Victory! Victory! Victory!
He shouted.
He was optimistic,
But, situation was pessimistic.
He struggle to achieve,
Achievement is far near,
He moved closely, but far.
He tried to accomplish,
Mistakes never allowed.
He ‘dabbled’ and ‘wobbled’.
He fell and stood up. 
He rose and fell.
The road is long and narrow. 
But, he knew, he will succeed. 
He managed to press on.
And when he least expected, 
Victory came, yet aluta continua.




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On cobblestone street

Passing through the inner city,
I see old buildings and landmarks.
With paucity of people walking through the night,
a real picture, wonder and amazement.

It dawns on me the past, its history
as a key to understand the whole lot
I find some answers common to expectations
that civilization caused hard work and labor.

With all those stuffs and items displayed
explain the reason for certain attraction.
Like antiquity, tourism and social meanings
of old cobblestones seen across the centers.

There's an inspiring connotation 
along with a cross of light in the sky.
It reminds me of the labarum symbols
etched in Roman coins
Christianity, the reason for basic principles.

Known collectively as a main achievement
from the ancient age down the contemporary time.
It's unfolding and giving delight to everyone
that stands still amid nature's assaults and destructions.


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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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Three strike then you're out

I step up to the plate and the first pitch is tossed.
Strike one is called out, but I feel a little lost.
I see the audience but things are not as they seem.
They come and they go, just like in a dream.

The second pitch is coming so I ready myself to swing.
I drift back to the people and to the plate what they bring.
The ball comes toward me but curves to one side.
All of a sudden strike two is what is cried.

I start to get nervous my palms start to sweat.
One more strike shall be all that I get.
As I realize that I only get one more strike.
I try to tell myself to get this one right.

I stand at the plate and wonder of the game.
Will I get a hit or strike out in shame.
I’m not all that certain what will be my fate.
I just have my hope as I bang my bat on the plate

The pitch is delivered and I make some contact
I run my fastest and I just don’t look back.
I made it to first; I will need help to get home.
As the next batter step up I’m on base alone.

He hits the ball sharply it goes out of the park.
The lights just turn on to relinquish the dark.
I make it back home I hear the crowd cheer.
Three strikes haven’t come and I’m still here.

I didn’t hit a homerun yet I made it home.
I just needed some help, I couldn’t do it alone.
Still I scored and I have another chance.
So I step back to the plate and hope to advance.


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Mulling Over

He was not a Rock Hudson
Nor she a Marilyn
But it was a glance
Maybe, perchance
She paused in thought
Yet, she felt that she ought – 
To return that smile
For it seemed worthwhile.
Did she over react
Or was it a fact
Is there time to consider
Or does something forbid her.
In a crowded hall
No time to stall.
Another glance
Now is her chance
Must not debate
Or could be too late
Oh, he's moved out of view
Now what does she do
Then, gone out of sight
Not a hope, not tonight.




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My Leave

I stand in the midst of that desolate place.
Once again.

The memories have faded.
The good and the bad.

The ashes remain still,
the sand that swept through my fingers.

So much time lost on these things.
This inferno that has destroyed a part of me.

The turmoil that continued afterwards.
And I stand here wondering of what is to come.

This place is no longer good for me now.
Maybe one day it would become more than what it is.

It is no longer home.
The thought of what is could be kept me here.

Yet no more.
It is time to move on.

Time for me to get up and leave.
These things have all come to an end.

The desolate place in me 
is no more.


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The unspoken fear

While heading out to pick up a few groceries
in the Italian Deli ‘Pastosa’ on Richmond Road,
fear grips me as I’ve something that I forgot
and can only be available in other supermarkets
like Pathmark, Waldbaum , Cash and Carry, etc.

These are vegetables, fruit, and other ingredients
reasonably cheap and expected to be fresh;
with all the choices being displayed and shown
hordes of them can delight a lot of customers.

When I got home carrying all those stuffs
my mobile phone rang and it was from someone
whose voice sounded familiar with a sad tone
that a friend of mine had just passed away.

I couldn’t speak nor utter a single word
overwhelmed with sadness and shocking news;
struck me most as I recalled him, his mem’ries
that wrought an opportunity to pray for him.

This prayerful moment addressed to God
made me realize and think all over again
death as a surprise and yet an unspoken fear
for so many who seemed they’re not ready yet.

Between today and tomorrow I might include him
in sacred celebrations with the nuns who always pray,
in deep silence and heightened recollection;
I’d pray for him that eternal rest may be granted to him.


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Timeline as a chapter opener

How time flies quickly!
especially when one is having fun.
This famous line for the Americans,
shows the truth, indeed, a verisimilitude.

As a happy note to share
there's hope that makes a difference.
Seeing the world in a grain of sand,
can assured the mystery of humankind.

Chronicled and hidden in everyone's heart
aspirations and dreams that await to come;
They really imply a total renewal,
To embrace the challenge
with depth and significance.

We live in an age of competition
with great mobility and anticipation;
with our minds and hearts permeated with preoccupations,
a great deal to keep in tone.

With fears of every sort
With sentiments to unfold;
more experiences follow suit
Day-by-day for the struggles involved.


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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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A Stronger You

Walk tall my friend,
make every step count,
look to the future,
hear the distant sounds.

Flee from yesterdays,
and from satan's hold,
remember one choice,
can destroy it all.

No one is perfect,
how could we be,
but that is no excuse,
to plant bad seeds.

Take responsibility,
then prove your worth,
it is not just one,
actions hurt.

Grow in your self,
take pride as you do,
the reflection looking back,
a stronger you.


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Italy: their triumph over France

It's Sunday afternoon
bright, lovely and good for outdoor functions;
with music that soothes one's emotion,
finds strength in transformation.

What a sight to behold!
with people across the world;
watching the Soccer's World Cup in Rome,
a milestone, a great pride and honor.

In trying to embrace their triumph
Italians at large unfold;
their victory in global doors
to the minds and hearts of every culture.

A big deal of preparations,
both time and effort combined;
a view of integrated system,
shows discipline, vision, and continuation.

Identified in today's world of ambition,
with certain trends as wide as Catholic religion;
Europeans, Asians, Americans, Africans and other cultures,
expand and deepen how sports can strive for perfection.

Congratulations to all Italians! 
such a job well done 
that is enough to understand.
A graced experience, a defining moment,
to tell the world your triumph over odds.


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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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The Falling: part I

Noise. 

Loud noise.

but it was not just noise, no, not to her.
It was the wild cries from the heavens, calling out to her, reassuring her that everything will be ok, that there is somebody out there who understands, who is just like her.
She emerges from her throne, in her cold, abandon dungon, in her lonly, abandon castle where she is kept prisoner. Kept prisoner from her dreams, her temptations, herself.

Serenity.
Bliss.

The scent stunns her.
Memories from her former life proceed to play like a movie in her memory...
a movie that she can not pause, can not forget.
She stumbles, -afraid to move for the thought that this magical moment may dissapear if she becomes too hasty- to her only escape.
Destroying the barriers that stand in her path.

Ice cold.
Refreshing.
The tiny rain drops fall from the sky,
releasing her temporarily from her own personal hell.
From judgment.
From criticism.
From the abandonment that overpowers her.

Lifting her pale, desolate face to the sky
she lets the rain wash away...
Wash away the hate
Wash away the pain
Wash away the lonliness
Wash away her...in the end.

She cries.
No one would notice, the rain unselfishly disguises her pain so any on lookers would assume that the moisture is just from the malicious storm.
The wind.
So rude, so loud, whips past her.
Attempting to knock the fragile being to the ground.
But she is strong, stronger than she thinks.
She is not phased by it's attempt.
Mother nature is kind.
The heavens cry out again,
begging the young girl to remember, to be happy.
But she cannot.
She can't breath.
She can't think.
Her heart stopped beating a long time ago.
Stopped dead in her lonly, broken chest,
and the heavens cannot understand why

No one can.
But no ones ever tried.
Suddenly, the vicious winds attack her once more,
this time getting a reaction.
A violent tremmor shakes her body
raising goosebumbps on her skin.
She barely notices.
Her imagination runs free, 
unleashing all her memories, all her former happiness.
They all consist of Him.....


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Vayikra of Moses

It draws me to think about Moses’ humility 
with his experience of the burning bush in Sinai,
like a place of discovery, so extraordinary!
that it’s burning and yet not consuming.

Being a leader to his own people of Israel,
his charism and fidelity to God he worships well,
reminds me of those responsibilities he had with them;
a great challenge and mired with so much pains.

God’s reassurance to his own people of faith,
his sheltering presence through all those years;
continued to abound with prophecies beyond,
in the heights of crises and difficulties at hand.

The burning bush or zarza ardiente in Spanish
is where God’s divine presence knows no difference
even in a lowly bush or an untrodden place
his message conveys that saving love for his people.

It is God’s Word, his plan and purpose he made with Moses;
there’s a defining experience that brings to fruition,
a remarkable change and perception of God’s will
that whoever believes and follows him becomes a disciple.

Moses in his intimate encounter with God through those years
walked with his people with constant faith in his will;
amid his humility and love for those who are suffering
his identity epitomized the “most humble of all people.” 

Note:

Vayikra: It is written in Torah scrolls with a small letter Aleph.  If we would disregard the small Aleph, the word would read “vayikar” – a word associated with a “chance encounter” – i.e. a much lower level of intimacy.  It is a statement which proclaimed his previousness in G_d’s eyes.  Moses sought to downplay this in a way that did not compromise the meaning of the original text, yet made clear to others that he was still a man of lowly spirit.


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IT'S ALL A MYTH

Hollywood is trying to cash in
on an unrealistic movie about
the Earth's destruction bound
to happen in the next two years...
how could you believe it, fools?
Doesn't God create it to be everlasting?


It's all a myth leading everyone to believe 
that's what exactly will occur almost instantly;
those fiction writers wouldn't care less
where you stand on this ridiculous story...
as long they make a huge profit and laugh
all to way to their bank...don't you agree?


Hollywood used to make great, memorable movies 
to glorify the name of the Almighty, that even now
make a positive and sound impact on all of us;
every possible subject has been exploited
from drug to sex...from politics to bloodshed...
Hollywood has become the haven of ostentatious riches.


I wouldn't waste a buck and stand before
a screen that shamelessly proclaims this lie,
even the most ignorant person wouldn't fall for that!
Don't squander your hard-earned money on stupidity,
and make those greedy movie-makers rich for
a motion picture that promotes chaos and fret!


The Christmas' Season and Hanukkah are almost here and the Devil plots in Hell;
they couldn't have come up with a better idea, or a more inspiring story?
It's criminal and despicable to prey on a gullible audience,
and force them to believe in a fiction that goes beyond any credibility;
it's a time for reflection...to redeem ourselves and get rid of pretense,
refuse to be brainwashed by the entrepreneurs who are awaiting their share! 


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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The scars of losing my parents

Since childhood I’ve dreamed of having a happy family,
I’ve dreamed of seeing my other siblings in harmony;
Like seasons of the year where changes can be seen,
Similar to our human experience dubbed with ups and downs.

As a child I experienced the pain of losing my loved ones,
especially my own father who I never saw when he passed away;
He’s far away, confined in the hospital with my older brother.
I cried so hard, went to my parents’ room and blamed God.

It was one of the great storms that knocked us down,
my own mother had all the responsibilities to shoulder;
She brought us up with all the sufferings and pains
She bore with them like a humble servant of all.

My mother’s mother continued to support us in many ways,
She became part of our disciplined Christian formation;
Her love for us was like a gauge of a mother’s love,
with interiority of faith and mission to think about the poor.

Her role model in our family became a challenge for me.
She impressed in my mind how to live as a responsible man;
given the chance to explore my life in the world of today,
undaunted by fear; encouraged by those who really dream.

The painful spike in our journey as fatherless in the family,
was the tragedy of envy and hatred that truly ruined us;
Yet with an attitude of love and forgiveness deep inside,
I would say that God never sleeps - to be of help to us.

Along with my family relations who came into the picture,
their soaring irritation and impatience to assist us heretofore,
Just a lesson, a part of history that makes me recall in prayer,
a gateway to reconciliation, a ministry to those in trouble.

As themes on faith, knowledge, love and oneness with God
continue to be the revelations of Christ in our journey as persons;
I feel that he’s never written in straight lines but rather in crooked ones,
some of them are our own lines and living witnesses in this world.

I really miss my own mother, my own father: my parents,
in spite of their weaknesses and shortcomings as human beings,
Their love and sacrifices for their children never failed,
because they’re sibling souls who knew about God’s love for all.


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Along for the ride

As I sit down to write my thoughts scatter.
What was important today doesn’t matter.
I spend all this time trying to find the right thing,
Outside my window I hear the birds sing.

I think of my purpose and where I shall go.
I planted some seeds in hope they will grow.
The sun hits the horizon and puts on a show.
Outside my window there’s much I don’t know.

I get up and get myself dressed.
Sometimes life is a constant test.
All I can do is to give it my best.
Things I can’t change I put to rest.

I write back to some friends their words make me smile.
Their words have beauty and grace and teach me of style.
I feel quite fortunate to have all of them around.
My heads in the clouds my feet on the ground.

I go outside to see what’s going on
The world looks the same though some pieces are gone.
I jump into my car and drive into the sun
My eyes shall see all that is to become.

I know that it’s early but no one’s around.
I listen but I seem to make the only sound.
Where once I was lost I seem to be found.
I haven’t a clue to where I am bound.

Life flies by and appears as a blur.
I take it all in even though I’m not sure.
It doesn’t really matter with hope at my side,
I just sit back and go along for the ride…


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Strong echoes

In today’s highlight of moral issues:
leadership of clergy in the Catholic Church;
seen as a major backlog of urgent need
that came out as the topic of our guest speaker.

She’s Dr Monica Applewhite, Ph.D.
who presented ‘leadership’ in perspective
held at St Joseph’s Seminary in Yonkers;
a huge place, a better rendezvous for this event.

Understanding the problem as the first item
brought us to embrace our roles as priests;
safe environments for children and adolescents
the main issue that was explored and shared.

The clergy of the whole archdiocese of New York
attended this session with learning experience;
it’s an update and a continuing information
that Church’s faith points to a shared witness.

With the presence of our beloved Cardinal Egan
who reinforced a plea for his clergy people,
alertness, action, vigilance and prayer
that’s how he drew the process in a nutshell.

Defined as a decision that demands seriousness,
our discipleship, our calling entails commitment;
as men of God in service to his own people,
our priority has its share of sorrows and joys.

To battle with the world, the flesh and the devil,
these are constant forces, tests and trials;
involved in this journey of following him,
Christ, our model and source of inspiration.

The cost of discipleship for someone like me,
embraces situations common to all people
how life is being led with depth and allegiance;
a biblical portrait, a priority matter, that Christ –
has called me to commit and be of service.


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Some mental notes about the poor

Every time I pass by Flushing, Bedford, or Lee Street in Brooklyn
I see Jewish people in complete uniform; most of them in black color,
their faith and loyalty to the Book of Torah makes me reflect
about my own relationship with God, along with my own people.

It’s become a reminder for me as I connect my own journey
to the mysteries of being called to serve and witness to faith;
certain things to develop and deepen along with inner longings
fidelity stressed by the Gospel marks the sign of being one of them.

Discipleship is truly costly as one invests his whole life in it,
there’s a radical shift of lifestyle that follows like a measure -
gauging that genuineness in dialogue with life and other cultures;
needed as a fundamental criterion to carry on God’s mission.

It’s in this way that some highlights of my faith enable me
to see beyond the texts of the Holy Scriptures, images of truth
that convey love relationships with people particularly the poor.

Being open to welcome some wounds and other afflictions
in today’s world where everyone competes with other factors
amid strong forces of secularism and cultural impositions
on life’s situations where the Lord’s teaching dwells.

Although God doesn’t give us all what we really want,
but he provides us with certain things we really need;
it’s a familiar wisdom, a continuing hope as Christians
that his great love for us is often reiterated in many ways.

A priority to “be mindful of the poor”  and have love for them,
an attitude with an evolving deal of surrender to God’s will
no matter how rough the roads will be in reaching out to them
reference to the poor connotes a constant clarion call for all.


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GYPSIES FROM EGYPT

Not far from my bustling town of Baiano, which welcomed anyone, 
there was a camp set up for gypsies,
not with dangerous tramps and thieves,
it looked like a concentration camp:
a territory restricted and feared
by the locals when they burned logs themselves to keep warm;
and despite alienation and distrust, out of it came inner beauty.
Mandisa and I became friends,
and we chatted after I finished school;
many wonderful stories of Egypt she told me:
from every Pharaoh who ever lived to the last tribe of gypsies.
While everybody was suspicious and kept the distance,
prejudice didn't keep me away from her...we shared the same feelings
of two young people, but mine were somewhat more real,
hers were not too realistic considering the condition she lived in:
a camp that resembled a ghetto without any help from the Government.
At dusk, the males played the Ouds and Riqs
that surely brightened up a cloudy sky over their squalid tents...
residents listened, but thought their music was dedicated to their Goddess Iris:
what a misconception they had about theses gypsies who never hurt anyone!
With arms hugged across my chest, feeling the crispness of the evening breeze,
I listened to every song they sang with a nostalgia an outsider couldn't describe,
then I grabbed Mandisa's hand and started to dance!
They cheered and played that music louder..everyone came out of their homes
thinking that a concert was in progress, but they were taken by shock:
their bitter looks changed to human tenderness seeing two kids dance,
one of their own country: beautiful Italy and the other from 
mysterious Egypt which they knew little about.
We looked at them and smiled and invited them to join us to form a ring
where all held each other hand: two races coming together 
in friendship and harmony that before seemed a mere impossibility!


Copyright 2012 by Andrew Crisci


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Hooked

He took almost everything he brought to 
Or ever bought in nine years 
It's hard to remember what is whose.  

He may have forgotten the cactus in the den 
	with its big pulpy stalk,
Was the first gift he sent me,
The one that fell on the receptionist at the office,
Leaking a white ooze from its injury,
And she a red one from hers,
	because he took it.  
And my birthday lamp, too.
He took it.

I'm liquidating what's left, 
and even though I love that maple table,
I'll have to let it go.
There won't be room in my smaller place.

I want to press my cheek against its cool shiny 
Smoothness and smell the wood one last time, 
But my daughter already feels guilty enough 
For the fight they had 
The final one, the reason she thinks he left.

So Goodbye, I say, to each piece of the puzzle,
Unraveling the years like so much yarn.
Stepping out now into uncertainty, 
I'm hoping the universe opens up to
Fill this void with something other
Than what I have filled it with too quickly in the past.

That's how they get you, you know
With that great wonderful hook.


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Toir, a quest

It’s hard to make a recount
of my own journey - a religious life;
it’s like Odysseus adventures,
with so many tests and encounters.

I stumbled so many times
met different people; 
with certain personalities
that at times could be -
difficult to live by.

But the grace of God
hastened to keep me going;
led me to walk through
and be undaunted by rough times.

I think in each chapter
of my struggles within;
there’s always a whisper
where God was invoked within.

I couldn’t deny the fact
that his presence through the years
made me see what following 
or discipleship really means.

It cost a fortune, it’s a great deal;
that I need to wrestle with,
Be attuned to and focused on him
as my Master and Lord of all.

Those people that I met,
along the way in formation,
ministry and social affairs,
molded the wealth of my faith.

I thank and wish them well
for they made a big difference
in the so-called ‘toir’ within
that aims to serve God as his follower.


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Yeah, This is it

Yeah! This is it!
The music is so fine
The tea is so right
The life is so bright

Yeah! This is what I sought!
Every morning on my way to town on clean highways lined with neat trees
I mingle with my dreams passing by on parallel lanes
How can I fail to pursue my dreams when I perceive the reality of it

Yeah! This is it!
This is the opportunity I needed to put my dreams to test
This is the chance for me to cultivate my best seeds
At last here I am, an escape from mediocrity to the realm of possibilities

Yeah! It is as it should be!
Hard work, late night coffee, red eyes, lots of music
Longer hours in pursuit of happiness
Soon, my reality shall justify my sacrifices


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A Plea to Infinity

The Infinite Mind of all eternity
In all your wisdom you decided reality to have me
Of all I know about you, profit is supreme
Please help me succeed too in securing my dreams
For it falls within the functions you purposed in me
Moreover, me being a product of thee
Means embedded in me are the elements of supreme skills
Designed to succeed in the highest scale of reality

The infinite mind of all eternity
Everything about me reflects the virtues of thee
My bodily beings daily grow and my heart never stops
Most times I’m all alone but I always feel You around 
Perhaps it may be that if I call upon thee
The wisdom of how to carry my burdens with ease
	...will be revealed to me
Oh, how I wish this weight on my back would turn into wings
	...and fly me far and fast, to the lands of appreciation and rewards
Away from the dreadful past stuck right at my back


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The Bridge

 An obstruction can be overcome by building a bridge
Whether the obstacle is of land or of sea
But the bridge most essential to all of mankind
Is the one that leads to God, no other way to Him we'll find

With three nails and a cross, Jesus built us a bridge
To carry us across sin's deep abyss
There is no other way, for without Him we are lost
Jesus saves with a bridge made of three nails and a cross

God the Father was willing to send His only Son
God the Son obeyed and left His home on high
Born of a virgin by God's Spirit, clothed in humanity
Born to die, to rise again, He bridged the gap for you and me

We are such loathsome sinners, while God is so pure
It's impossible to match His perfect ways
No earthly bridge can reach over a chasm so wide
Only one such bridge exists, the one that Jesus provides

With three nails and a cross, Jesus built us a bridge
It's the only way to span sin's great divide
He offered up His life, there is no greater cost
Thank the Lord, He built a bridge with three nails and a cross

There has been many bridges built by the hands of men
Much skillfulness and toil they did employ
But none can be compared to, or was made with such love
As the bridge our Lord supplies for us, that leads to God above

Jesus offers free passage for you to cross that bridge
It's the only way, the Bible tells us so
No toll is required, it was paid for with His blood
Accept His gracious gift and He will guide you by His love

With three nails and a cross, Jesus built us a bridge
It's the only way to span sin's great divide
He offered up His life, there is no greater cost
I'm so thankful He built a bridge with three nails and a cross


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I Can't Wait

I think of the moment of inspiration to me
It’s like being blind and then suddenly you can see
All that has happened was meant to be
The apple never falls very far from the tree.

I am saved by those who learn from my mistakes
The sun brings forth light as my fate waits
I don’t know the destination I climb on board
The price of my happiness I should be able to afford.

I sit down to write because my heart needs to speak
As the curtain does rise I see what I seek
It was always right before me though I couldn’t see
The answers to the questions were inside of me.

I seem more thankful perhaps I have more grace
I gaze in the mirror yet don’t recognize the face
Still I am better than I ever was before
I can’t wait for tomorrow to see what is in store.


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' Jennie - Pennie (My Big Sister)

Everywhere I Look … I See Jennie
Short, Red-Hair and a Smile, So Bright and Pretty
Jeanette … my Older, Big Sister… I Wish I was More Like Her…
        … My Dear Jennie … My Sweet Jennie …

Treated me like I was Her Baby … That was Jennie
Helped me to be a Real-Lady … Just like Jennie
Taught me how to Share and just how to say my Prayers …
        … Jennie … Great Lady Jennie

She was in Her Early Adult Years and I was Young Too
… when Mama Left… There was nothing, We Could Do …
            … Cancer … is not a Loving Word …
        I Wish It Had Been The Last I’d Heard …
                … Oh Jennie … Loving Jennie …

In that Cold-Clinical-Room … Lay Jennie
She Would Be Leaving Soon – God ! … Not Jennie !
She asked me, ‘Did She Fulfill … God and Our Mama’s Will …?’
        Yes, You Did Jennie… I Said You Did Jennie !

… She was in Her Late, 40-Years, but Still, Much Too Young To…
… Like when Mama Left… There was nothing, We Could Do …
                     … Cancer … is not a Loving Word …
                    I Wish It Had Been The Last I’d Heard …
                           … Oh Jennie … I Love Jennie …

When I Wrote This Song … I was Missing Jennie
God … We Can’t Believe She’s Gone … I Loved Jennie
        Jennie-Pennie … You Kept Your Promise…
                  Mama Will Be Proud of Us…

… May Jesus, Call Jennie … When The Time Comes, Please Call Jennie
          Lord Call Jennie … Lord Call Mama … and Then Lord Call Me …

            Jennie, Left Loved Ones... February 29th, 1992 …
          I hate Leap-Years Now …. ‘til I Leap of Faith to You …
                     … Cancer … is Not A Loving Word ! ! !
                             Will It Be The Last I Heard ? …


                      In Memory of my Beloved Sister
                                        Jeanette


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STRIKING IT RICH

Never attempting of striking it rich,
whenever my cravings give me another itch,
I'm used to a quite and simple life:
enjoying good food and sharing a coldl glass of wine 
when relatives and friends drop by;
why be someone you weren't meant to be?
Any millionaire around the globe,
sipping champagne desiring what I love?



With my beach cap pulled down, 
so that my short hair doesn't sizzle and change color,
as my light skin turns to a golden tan;
yes, I thank God for a breeze cooler than a fan!
Whole afternoons are spend on this pristine beach,
with a waterfront that a Californian will envy,
to melt away that old cliche' of vanity;
come down here...the East Coast is a wonderful shore! 



Low class, middle class and the upper one,
all share this unquenchable feeling,
to lay on the salty sand and begin to dream;
Am I talking non-sense or tackling the zest for living...
that this society has been unawarely denying??
 


Striking it rich is a temporary fancy,
imagining the possessions money will buy,
and many untaught temptations will materialize;
some will die by snorting deadly coke,
others squandering it on mistresses and hookers...
God, how the human spirit is corrupt  and consumed by lurid
and unhealthy desires that once were out of reach!  
And hopefully someone will ponder this,
to wake up to this gruesome, and parlous reality
and spend his or her fortunes wisely! 



What good people will do for the betterment of the deprived ones?
First give them love from the heart, then help them financially...
that's the smart way caring, of planning to strike it rich;
what's the use of looking at your glittering gold,
and not giveit  away to help anyone whose thirst and hunger
show in the sunken eyes...waiting for someone to feed their bellies!



If I ever stroke it rich, I wouldn't be here enjoying this sunshine, 
but I'll get out there and search for the needy and helpless ones,
and stop the selfishness and madness that money provides;
if I share my good fortune with them, others will follow my example,
and a real change will take place...no poverty everywhere in our world!
Follow me, and search for everyone alive...to give them back their precious life!

 

Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Child Dreamer

The view I see so beautiful a new horizon a bright sky
everything’s falling into place.
Vibrations have started paving the way for a new life
Magnificent sights and wonders captured within my mind
Excitement within my heart beating faster
Air I breath I'm feeling good
Born with a gift within my labyrinth
Like the magic of a crystal
Images I see time talks to me
I close my eyes century’s pass me by
Looking in the sky my mind can fly messages I hear
By the water my power grows
By the touch of a hand a deep emotion I feel
I am the messenger from the light
My life force has the everlasting glow
The road that I travel lies deep within a realm of enlightened thought
In this land I am a mystic
Abilities within my heart and mind have no boundaries
My wisdom teaches the children of life
My thoughts can move the megaliths
With the wave of my hand a portal open up
Through this dimension angels guide my inner soul
Listen closely an echoing voice calls out
Now watch as my arms turn into wings
Hold tight prepare for an adventure through fantasy
Higher 'n higher into heaven sky
The many sounds that surround
A breeze that breaths
Look into my eyes watch me turn into a star shooting through the sky.
Tonight something beautiful is about to begin
In a world of wonder everything comes alive.
In the corner of a small bed room, 
A sleeping child soon will hear magic. 
A picture on the wall. a battered guitar by the window
This picture is filled with visions of harmony and dreams.
That guitar is magical it works for any child that makes wish.
Outside the window a shooting star with 
the power and magic to create dreams into reality.
A gentle breeze rushes in; an angel like glow ignites the picture
A symphony of color engulfs the room.
The guitar begins to play. A gentle voice fills the air singing
Dream that dream watch 'n see 
What you have always known and wished for soon will become reality
You are the one we’ll come to know and love
I know you’ve been abused it’s in your eyes
It’s alright to cry open up let the emotions soar
You are the star, climb the sky show the truth to the world
Show them what you can do, we have seen you do it and we know
You’ve been hidden from so many, a child so gifted and beautiful. 
That little voice you keep hearing is you guiding you along 
There are no boundaries for you and I in life.
Dream that dream keep creating
Watch and see what you have always known and wished for soon will be reality


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Lost Value

He is as a field of lost value
Neglected by unknown reasons.
Seemed to have outwalked the furthest city light.
Becoming acquainted with the night.

A dark cloud covered him still
By those he never thought could still.
Help seems afar,
Like the stars in the boundaries of the sky.

Dealt by the strokes of the white water
That fall to earth.
A blessing he thought it was
For then sun never shinned its presence.

Sought for refugee,
As he was withering away
And made a fast decree.
But he had soon become a castaway.


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You Are My Curse

I had to let it all go,
The day and night,
Their hours ran too slow.
It was more than just a fight.
I trusted you and knew you,
My love succumbed to the worst,
Faith and loyalty just wouldn’t do.
You became my curse.
 
I was pulled down to Earth’s plane,
And judgment did set in.
Then new days begin.
I stood parallel as many went insane.
My heart drenched and my soul crunched,
I couldn’t let my heart take this very much.
I died and I died losing each endless breath,
I swallowed the victory and ate your death.
 
You reaped and I sowed,
But I saw no one grow,
Not even you.
What was I to do?
I let it go very slow,
Now I am all grown,
And I’m on my own.
I died watching you go.
 
I will always remember begging mercy,
I will always know this pain,
You are my curse you see,
And nothing did you gain.
I can never just be alright,
I can never love you the same again.
I died watching you go out of sight.
You are my curse and forever in my heart you made an end.


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This is it

So the dream is already real
At least the greater part of it
It’s now up to me 
It’s time for me to show what I’m made of
The lights are on me 
The audience of fate and opportunity are waiting 
Will I put on a show
Or will I kill the show

Somehow I have to find a way
To bring all the best that I’ve got in me
Somehow I have to find a way
To bring out the best of me that I’ve always been dreaming to give
The audience is silent
The eyes of criticism are searching me
The eyes of appreciation are waiting to applaud me
Will I impress or will I fail

The anxiety is overwhelming
But still doesn’t change the fact that here I am
Live on the stage of life
Now I must act
…for all have paid to get their worth
I must throw all care to the wind and fit in the cast
The only care I should keep 
…should be of the sequence in the script

So here I go
This is what I’ve been waiting for 
This is what I’ve been yeaning for
This is what I’ve been practicing for 
Now I shall perform for the applause I wish to own
I hope you enjoy the show


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In A New World

I?m in a new world of strange sounds
I?m in a familiar world yet of different tongues
And I somehow feel at home
This was the dream I wanted to own

Yesterday I was so down, eager for a dreamy reality to own
Today here I am, my dreams having won, yet still stuck in ?Now?
I wanna dream even more of the heavens yet to be
I wanna live like a mortal with the destiny of a king

Still the sounds are so clear in my mind
I feel the vibrations of their laughter in my heart
I feel the fire of pain in the wounds they hurt
Yet I still have that voice of forgiveness humming deep in my heart

I am the prince and the prophet
The price of their peace is in my wallet
When the time is right I must pay for their rackets
Such is the game whose rules I squash in my racket

I still believe in the dreams of a better modernity
I still pine and plan to rise in spite of my bondage with mediocrity
I must find a means to benefit from the trash of my history
I must achieve my dreams so as to disapprove the unfavourable history

Warnings abound of my biting off more than I can chew
Confidence within assures me my mouth isn?t as weak hence I can aptly handle my 
chew
I am dancing to a beat so loud within I do not need the party
The path I am treading is of a virgin destiny, hence it can only imprint my new 
footprints


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RAIN FALLING IN OCTOBER

It's so mild in the quite suburbs
with rain falling in October,
and unable to sleep, I face 
insomnia for certain;
rain, keep on falling and let me hear
that steady, pelting sound on
the closed windows....a melody for
the saddest song should be written.


I must choose the right mood,
a minor scale to match this melancholy,
and a slow tempo growing into a crescendo,
and I could even throw in a scherzo;
and transport it with a C Major to smooth
some sadness out of the melody,
which tomorrow somebody
will hum, or whistle by learning the easy tune.


Hoping this song will be a hit,
thanks to the falling rain 
in October for the sudden inspiration...
when I couldn't think of anything else!
Wishing the rain would stop at six,
so I could see the rising sun across
the eastern sky and listen to the lark
that built his nest under my windowsill.


It's past sunrise, and the shimmering clouds hesitate to leave,
and with nothing to look forward to... I must believe
that the rain falling in October, 
can teach me the game of solitaire;
and pinned against my warm pillow,
I don't have anything to share but sorrow!
Flap your wide wings, friendly lark and repeat my song,
note by note; and without a lead sheet, I can't play it for very long...


Copyright by Andrew Crisci


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ON THIS DAY: 01.20.09

In 1963 Dr. King gave a speech in Washington D.C.
it was a most stirring address that became a prophecy
he made mention of a dream of an America he had invisioned
one with justice, equality for all and no more racial division

In 1964 the Civil Rights Bill was signed and enacted
that federal law designed to have racism in America impacted
yet the struggle continued and the battle raged on
but God had something coming up on the horizon

In 2004 a man of mixed race decided to take up the cause
a Columbia grad with a Harvard degree who did not stop to pause
based in Illinois he ran for the United States Senate seat
and despite the odds against him the opposition he did beat

In 2007 God move Senator Obama to the next phase
the Spirit compelled him to step up and enter the Presidential race
many thought he was an upstart and by many he was rejected
as he wasn't a part of the early movement and wasn't what they expected
But God will use any kind of man to accomplish His goals
all He requires is an obedient servant who allows Him to be in control

In 2008 the Democratic Primary was a most unpleasant fight
it was not only about gender it became about Black and White
but the youth of today stepped up, joined in and took a stance
and the young Senator from Illinois now had a fighting chance
and after the dust had settled it became a very clear choice
the American people voted and the world heard their voice

that young upstart Senator Barack Obama won the Presidential race
and now the most powerful job in this world belongs to a man with a Black face
but more importantly he's a man who doesn't distinquish himself by his color
he's the President of every American citizen Jews, Gentiles, Sisters and Brothers

It was not a coincidence that on the day he won his party's nomination
it was 45 years to the day that Dr. King addressed the entire nation
it was not a coincidence it was all God's design
that this young intelligent black man would have his season at this time

a people delivered from slavery into the ultimate seat of power
on this day in U.S. history African American's shining hour
to be vindicated and now elevated
to be validated and now celebrated

Oh yes we can for hope has been renewed and restored
Oh yes we can pray that peace will reign again once more
On This Day the Rev. Dr. King's dream become divine
On This Day January 20th in the year 2009
ON THIS DAY


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Beyond 52

Age 52 
In the mirror I see
old, tired 
woman

Age 52 
A life spent chasing that which is
no longer
important

Age 52 
Begin the journey to where I will be
when I turn
Age 53


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The lines on my face

The lines on my face trace the tracks of my tears.
They also record that I’ve survived many years.
The light seems to shine through a crack in the wall.
Hope assures me the decent is worse than the fall.

The lines on my face are like a record of time.
The memories of the past, seem to undermine.
I look into the mirror they appear to grow bold.
The lines perhaps mark a soul that was sold.

The lines on my face remind me where I’ve been.
They don’t mark the end but a place to begin.
Some battles I lose while others I shall win.
I search for my heart like that man made of tin.

The lines on my face aren’t as bad as they seem.
I still have my hope and continue to dream.
I drift off and think of warmer days.
I feel better as I feel the sun’s rays.

The lines on my face define who I am.
It not always perfect I do the best I can.
I learn to realize that they mark a full life.
Hope shall arise from the ashes of strife.


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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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Rape My Future

I want to hide in the closet
My heart jumps with fear
I wish I wasn't here
The arguing begins to come to an end 
Tears began to escape my eyes
The shadow that locks my view
Is so cruel and devious 
I lock the door in fear 
Of what lurks in the shadows
What lurks beyond that door
The door knob turns with creaks of misery
The thought of what the cruel shadow might do 
Escapes my mind to hide in the dark corners 
Of the world that I was once afraid
Even though I fear the loneliness of the dark
The loneliness of the dark comforts my fears
The door opens in inches like a snake 
Awaiting its next meal like prey in the jungle
The pain makes the breathe escape my lips
The flesh to flesh touch makes my body numb
The rivers flow between thy legs
Where is thy protector?
I should speak for the cruel shadow
That shows me his pain and misery throughout life.
And now
Here I stand underneath the belt of poverty 
Rape my future
An I shall be one with poverties own.


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' The Four Horsemen ... '

On A Pure-White Horse, Sits ‘The Champion’
He will Ride on to Victory, ‘til the War is Won
On A Fire-Red Horse, Sits The Warrior
He Rides Forth into Battle, Blood, Rage & Armor

On A Bold-Black Horse, Sits A Dark Guest
His Name is Famine, Poverty, Gloom & Unrest
Scales Balance His Weapon & Weigh Out Threat
…. And On A Pale-Horse… Sits Death…

And The Horsemen Must Ride…
The Horsemen Must Ride…
On an Ever-Rushing Tide
… The Horsemen Must Ride…

On Gathered Clouds Above, I can See Them ‘Cause
This is What The Poets & Our Prayers Speak Of
They’re Racing On The Wind To Glory and To Send…
They Must Keep On Riding, ‘til The Very End

There… See Them On The Horizon…
Blocking Sight Of The Moon and Sun
Holy-Vision, Shows… Here They Come…
… Death, Dark-Guest, The Warrior & The Champion

And The Horsemen Must Ride…
Yes, The Horsemen Must Ride
Following-Each, Side by Side
Ever-Rushing Tide… The Horsemen Must Ride…

The Prince of Peace…
Is The Royal – Heaven Sent Champion
The Rage-Warrior…
Stands for All Wars, ‘til There Are None

The Dark-Guest,
Equals, Eye-for-Eye, ‘til Due is Done…
And Death…
… is Always Coming for Someone

That’s Why The Horsemen Must Ride
The Horsemen Must Ride…
Following – Side by Side, Ever-Rushing Tide
Ranging Far and Wide

The Horsemen Must Ride…


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For Jackson

We run out on the field all together
the crowd erupts at our energy!
a rush of adrenaline pumps inside you
the blood rushes uncontrollably!
We stand together silently
honoring jackson, tears fill my eyes!
the calm of the national anthem
then the sight of 3500 fans screaming endlessly
Down 12 at the half
we never lost faith in one another!
A great comeback, an emotional win
tears fall without chance of stopping!
No sense of embarressment
nothing but pride shines throught in us all!


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-First Glance-

I saw him across the room, my heart melted
Every woman's dream, tall dark beautiful man
A smile playing at his sensuous, tantalizing lips

At a glance I knew I had to meet this man
I slowly worked my way toward him through the crowd
Our eyes met, gazes holding onto each other

A spark flickered between us
Time stood still for mere seconds
In those split seconds we connected

Standing face to face
One word was said between us "Hi"
At that moment, I was his


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Crystal clear



I think back when I was young the world seemed so big
The answers are below the surface so you will have to dig.
I see this little caterpillar absorbing all that it sees
Hope is growing stronger than the tallest trees.

I remember the sky and how I would count stars
I would first find Venus and then I’d look for Mars.
The moon always seemed so big and so bright
Like a beacon to guide me through the night.

As I grew older I would dream that I could fly
Seems this caterpillar has become a butterfly.
I’d watch the dew drops glisten in the morning sun
Only to evaporate as I see who I would become.

Change comes so slowly, yet time goes so fast.
What was once right here has now become the past.
I miss those childhood dreams and what they would bring
But as a butterfly I have to learn to fly as my heart sings.

I know that nothing can ever remain the same.
I just hope to get better at this flying game.
I still see the sky before me so vast yet so near,
The direction I shall take seems to be crystal clear.


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Forgive Me Father

Into the darkness,
where eyes can't see,
only voices crying,
"what is happening to me."
"Is anyone out there,
where daylight dwells,
do you have an answer,
does anyone care?"
Paper stacked up,
with no value at all,
vaults with guards,
behind these walls.
The forgotten word,
from somewhere within,
forgive me Father,
for I know I have sinned.


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Tell Me Why

Tell me why men and women go to war.
Tell me why they die for causes that know one has an explanation for.

Tell me why we rush to the aid of homeless and hungry people who are not from the united 
States.
Tell me why our homeless and hungry don't get the same treatment and our elected leaders 
will tell you its still up for debate.

Tell me why the elderly should have to decide weather to get food or medication.
Tell me why some of them cant remember their name or the last time they went on vacation.

Tell me why I use to pay for my gas with the money from my pocket.
Tell me why now not only do the oil bigwigs get richer, but now i have to also lock it.

Tell me why people that retired a long time ago are suppose to enjoy tier golden years.
Tell me why now those same people are working again just to survive and exist from there 
worst fears.

So someone please tell me why these same questions get asked over and over with no 
certain reply.
I guess we will never know with any certainty the answers, so until then I'll just ask please 
tell me why.


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Poverty through the eyes of a missionary

I was head over heels in love with certain mementos I keep,
they’re like my precious treasures unknown to everyone;
a place where I used to keep them were hidden in my room,
a kind of sanctuary, a private locus sealed with continuity.

I had those stamps collected from different countries and places,
post cards, books, key holders, rosary beads, stampitas, and photos;
they reminded me of my visits to these places where I’d been to,
living memories, collection of souvenirs with values deep within.

Significant places like my home country where my faith began to grow,
along with a diversity of cultures that truly honed and enriched me,
meeting those peoples and experiencing their individual differences,
made me a real person; vulnerable to the needs and issues of being sane.

Across the length of years that I’d spent in keeping those mementos,
some friends, relatives and family members contributed in my own,
as personal stuffs, memoirs, or proofs of having truly been in those places;
from the bottom of my heart, I thank them and indeed, a big difference.

With my constant mobility, however, as one called to serve with migrants,
there’s difficulty to keep them all, carrying them with me wherever I go,
hence, I thought it best to give them away and share with others who like them;
be a simple missionary with nothing much as Christ had told his first disciples.

It’s part of of my religious vows to put into practice what poverty means;
detachment may mean a lot and it embraces nothingness, renunciation –
of one’s will that reflects his agenda for the present and future that holds,
all gets the bottom line - ‘vow of poverty’ in the context of my religious calling.


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Empty

A great sadness has settled down upon me
a misty cloud of cold
I can hardly breathe
and I can barely see
and I'm damp and chilled
and in need of the scent of my lover.

A sometime intellectual but hardly
more than animal in my excruciating desires,
I leave my desk and go out on the street
to pace around the building in the dark
and wish I smoked
so I could fill these empty hands.


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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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A Night of Silence

As I lie in bed,
I hear nothing
I see nothing
And I feel nothing.
I feel empty,
I am scared,
I am afraid
I am ready.
This is a night of silence,
In which is ruined.
I pierce it with my screams.
I cut the silence with my tears,
With my pain
I try to stay quiet.
Whimpers from my bloody lips,
As I touch my heart
The spot where I hurt worse
Where pain has no end.
Where I want to stick this knife.
Not the wrist cutting
Or the gun to the head.
No, it’s a blade 
A blade to my heart,
To cut off the pain
To stop the hurt,
To stop my fast hard breathing.
I pierce the skin
But then I stop,
I can’t go any further
Blood trickles down my chest
But I can still breath.
I touch my left breast
And I feel the blood.
I feel my pain draining
Draining from me,
As if I’m being cleansed.
I cry,
I sit,
I listen,
And I lie in bed 
And I think.
I cleanse myself
Now once again
It’s a night of silence.
I feel right,
I feel strong.
I am ready for the new day.
Ready for the darkness
And ready
For a night of silence.


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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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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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GETTING INTO THE CHRISTMAS SPIRIT

Getting into the Christmas spirit,
by examining my introspection
and making new plans for the future;
and sparking up your imagination...
could anyone imagine me dressed
as Santa Claus, who never has the minimal time
to watch a log consumed by a crackling fire?
Think again, I could be that Saint Nicholas so bold! 



Prejudice is not a part of this Christmas Season,
all kinds of people, of different ages and races, 
celebrate it; and it may vary from country to country
with traditions as far as Saturnalia or Yuletide...
that was a time when pagans started this festivity,
and with the birth of Jesus, the Christians
adopted these traditions as their own...
so should we object and put them aside?    



Getting into the Christmas spirit,
unpacking decorations for my new Christmas Tree, 
from boxes that waited too long for this day of joy;
and even my toddler, Jack, comes downstairs tripping,
handing me Grandma's favorite star, which
she had hidden away into a treasure chest so jealously,
to place on the top of this forest-scented pine tree...
when we all gather and sing," Silent Night."  



Getting into the Christmas spirit, 
adding, not taking away names from my long list;
and even though these are tough economic times,
I plan to be generous to all without feeling the pinch!
Give the very best of your intentions,
either in gift or in warmest embrace;
give and be content to catch that infant's smile in the distance; 
the tender smile of the Holiest Child, who will give of Himself!  


Copyright 2009 by Andrew Crisci


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Quake-stricken town in China

I was truly saddened by the massive quake
that shook China’s Sichuan province;
It was a huge disaster, a furious nature
that at times like this is indeed doleful.

I saw images of devastation all over,
I saw human sufferings in this situation;
I couldn’t believe their profound sadness
seeing deaths in legendary proportions.

Described as one of the worst disasters
in terms of lives claimed and destructions,
there’s superstition or tradition they say
that this might foreshadow in any way
a reigning emperor to have met his death.

Like a historical phenomenon years ago,
when the famous Tangshan quake shook.
the entire land where thousands were killed
and this happened just before the death of
the famous Chinese leader Mao Zedong.

That’s history! An unforgettable event;
a tragic episode that never occurred
to some minds with deep attachments
to this country where Communism 
played the role in varied situations.

Quake victims received great attention
especially in the world of communication;
most of them I heard were migrant workers
from the countryside in search of fortune.

With the growing population elsewhere
I saw how Chinese people struggled
in their own way to overcome misfortunes
that life could go on with their convictions.

Right now, our major print, news and TV media
are sources and avenues of global information;
like epidemics and natural devastations
remind me of our shared, nationwide disasters.

Back in the Philippines where I was born
a litany of calamities and all kinds of anger –
they’re natural catastrophes like volcanic eruption,
all these shaped my vision and love for the people.

Oh, China, our neighboring country in Asia,
I could feel the shadows of your pain and mourning,
Your own people are also in my heart and attention
 with God I pray to him that you’ll be all right.


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Crossing the Red Sea

It is water in the ditch making ponds.
It is ponds of water making streams.
It is streams making lakes.
It took lakes of valley to make rivers.
It took mountains of rivers to make seas.
A cross sections of seas springs oceans.

Just like the Atlantic Ocean.
Just like the pacific.
Looking through the Indian Ocean,
through the rivers crossing the Jordan,
a barricade of  boundaries,
between determination and success.

Crossing the Red Sea, 
Is making the Israelites Journey.
Journey to land of Canaan.
Journey to success.
With a walk through the rigors. 
With a long walk to freedom.



Crossing the Red Sea is divine,
crossing to close the path of the enemies.

Just like Pharaoh was plunge into the Red Sea,
crossing to begin a long walk to freedom.
Aided with signs and wonder
Who is your Red Sea?
Cross him.
Cross him.


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The rain keeps falling

Rain falls down puts out the fire in my heart. 
The cold wind blows ripping the rest apart.
Scattered are the pieces all across the ground.
The rain keeps falling, everywhere around.

The skies are gray and I cannot see the sun.
I remember sunny days when I come undone.
The rain keeps falling, washing all away.
I try to see the future, rain gets in my way.

A fog starts to rise as the snow does melt.
My mind goes numb, I know not what I felt.
I try to drop some cards I hold within my hand.
The rain clouds my thoughts I can’t understand.

I have to go inside seek shelter from the storm.
My body’s soaking wet I need to get it warm.
I wonder if the rain is ever going to stop.
Angels keep on crying, thousands of teardrops.

I rekindle the fire it never went completely out.
I slip within the shadows surrounded by my doubt.
As the fire starts to build I feel some warmth inside
I try to understand all those tears that are cried.

I just close my eyes envisioning the sun
I hope tomorrow shall deliver me some.
The rain keeps falling easing me to sleep
I think of the angels and for whom they weep.


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Searching

I walk and walk the many miles for you.
I give and give until I have nothing more.
I go on and on until I drop or fall,
But I’m searching deep because I search for it all.
Everyday I die more inside. 
Eaten alive by myself inside of my core,
Because I’m left alive with life that only I can sort through!
I just want to see the Sun rising up so full and so high.
I want to see the Sun set so huge with shadowing bits that glow.
So I’ll just believe in this strength that comes through you to me.
I search for you but why should I be the one who has to be one that believes?
Everyday I’m alone and it’s nowhere that I go,
Even when it’s my thoughts that I clearly identify!
I just want to see the Moon so round and so high beaming me into the glow of light.
I want to see the Moon peering through the lighter of my brightest day.
I keep seeing all of these cushioned visions of just you and me.
Searching for you gives me the sight of all that I am to see.
Everyday I beg and beg until I hurt that you will stay.
But I’m left alone with reality in sight.
I just want so much for you and me.
I even want the same air that you breathe.
I keep holding onto this strength that I am I feel I believe.
Searching for you I’m with all that I can ever be!
Everyday I’m straightened by what my eyes can see,
But now I’m alone with what’s left alive and what didn’t flee.
So I’ll just keep searching for you while I search for what will be the all of me.
 


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The Church

I walked into the church, And what did I see? Hundreds of eyes, Just looking at me. What were they thinking, What was on their mind? Was it my new face, Or judgement of some kind? The further I went, The more they did stare. Would I be accepted, Or wouldn't they care? As the service went on, Things began to change. To some I was a target, At the local shooting range! But from many there, I would get a smile. The people next to me, Just looked at me awhile. As the service ended, I stayed in the pew. Hoping that maybe, I would be greeted by a few. But as I looked around, I noticed they were gone. Everyone was in a hurry, No one stayed very long. For more than a month, I returned week after week. Only to find out that, To me they wouldn't speak! I went to find Jesus, And to grow in the Word. But it was only silence, Thats all that I heard! Where was the love, Didn't they really know? It's the Lord Jesus, Our reflection should show? Needless to say, Soon I didn't go back. Loneliness in their church, They did not lack! We must open our hearts, Greet them with a smile. Extend forgiveness and love, Now that's Jesus' style! Reference; Revelation 3: 1-9 (NLT)


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To Love Or Not To Love

To love or not to love,
do we have enough,
can time hold on to the memories,
that once were flames of desire,
Years of thoughts,
locked inside my heart,
shall I free them,
or will I need them.
The spoken word,
love is the key,
unlock my feeling,
let me show you,
a woman,
waiting for her que,
gentle, yet strong,
all night long.


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Yeah I’m Mad

 

Where do they mint our coins these days ?
    Seems they forgot one important phrase.
Like in God We Trust is missing now.
    Are have we stop trusting God somehow?
Isn’t In God We Trust our national motto?
   Are did we change it to buy a ticket, win the lotto?
Push came to shove I’ve had enough!
   Enough is enough it’s time to get tough!
Who am I fighting anyhow? 
   Show your self and feel my POW.
This is my country and I stand for God!
   I’m sick of backing up on my on sod!
Put God back where He belongs.
   You sicko bunch of congressional Ding Dongs.
You treat us like we don’t have a say.
    But I’ll keep praising my Lord till my final day.
If it makes you mad I hope it does.
    Because when they take God out of our country, we’ll be just a country that was.
In God I trust forever more.
   I think it’s time we show those pukes in Washington the door.


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Stones in the Wall

Of many, the stones in the wall have different sizes with different shapes. 
So many there are and each specific with their very own color.
The wall is long with the many miles of stone that support it and strengthen.
What a vision to see a wall that long, because of the many miles this wall has made.
Built stone by stone and layer by layer, yet clearly by the hands of amateurs! 
Old these stones in the wall are, for time can only damage what is already weakened.
Enduring the test of time are endless miles of broken down stones along this old wall,
Chipped away on the outside, but still standing sturdy and firm maintaining a delicate core!
Enduring such strength, for they are all very well defined by their evident and only weakness.
An endless wall of old broken down stones and still they will stand strong and still so very tall.
Miles of evidence from darker times for sure by their obvious structure of neatness!
Beaten and battered these stones are and still they maintain such a strong and sturdy core!
There are many weakened stones along this old broken down wall,
Yet it stands distinct and firm with its battle against its only known weakness.
Individualized by one is the other occupying the many miles of this wall from so long before.
What a vision to see a wall that strong, beaten and weakened only by its evidenced neatness.
Broken down stones hold this old wall and each one with their many different shapes and colors!


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The Eternal Christmas Plan

For thirty years, God's Christmas plan had culminated into a ministry of Love, Hope even
fear and anger. Masses were fed by little, masses were healed, by but a touch of His loving
healing hand. Yet through all this, there was still fear, uncertainty, guile and betrayal.
Even
those chosen to be His Apostles were weary of Him. Even after all He had shown them,
taught them. Yet He foresaw it all, lamentations, denial, betrayal. Then He was brought
before Pilate
a man not wanting to convict nor imprison. Were the Scribes and Priests the ones who really 
held power? Where was God? Where was His guidance? Where was His Love for His Son?
    Yes God's eternal plan was present, through man to sacrifice His Son, who was willing, for
He understood it must be done, so decreed, Heavenly power fulfilling. To Calvary's Cross,
to suffer such loss, to bury in a tomb for three days, whilst resurrection power had begun to 
tower, stone rolled away from the cave. Among Alleluias from Angels on high, parallel to 
the Gloria's sung on Christmas Day, where in a manger He lay, God's pure infant Son. Full
circle was present, revealed to mankind, Birth to Death from Eternal obedience , from 
manger to cross, the story unfolds, year to year, age to age, still intense, still Celebrated
by those who believe Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again. Let us
proclaim the Mystery of Faith........ In the Eternal Christmas Plan........





This is a Collaborative Narrative From Linda Marie ( Sweetheart) Bariana and myself...
Many Thanks Sweetheart for this piece... We hope you all enjoy the read. Merry Christmas
and Happy New Year.....God Bless


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Guilty, Guilty, Guilty

 

As the doors to my prison door slammed shut.
   It was then I realized just how deeply my life had sunk into this rut.
And why, what was the reason that put me here?
   Second degree manslaughter and they said it quite clear.
It seems I plowed into a van full of kids coming from a high school game.
   One mother cryingly said, don’t you have any pity do you feel any shame?
For she lost two sons that night, that night of the game.
    I was there executioner, I was to blame.
I was just out for a good time making all of the bars.
    I didn’t know I was that drunk but I still pack those scars
The jury found me guilty that very first day.
    And the old judge handed me my sentence he said son you must pay.
Well locked in those handcuffs they carried me back to my cell.
     I heard one mother holler, I hope you rot, you rot in hell.
Thirty years was the sentence but not near enough.
     For it was three young men’s lives that I did snuff.
The death penalty would have been more fitting for this deed that I’ve done.
     Letting a drunk person drive is like giving a crazy person a gun.
And I think the people that sell the stuff need to be accountable as well.
     Let them get a little taste of sitting in a cell.
Folks this is just a made up story but it could have been true.
    For there were many nights I was out there driving drunk uncaring of what I 
could do.
I’m the lucky one, for God took my desire to drink and I don’t anymore.
   Alcohol is an addicting drug with a swinging door.
It weakens all your defenses and it makes you a bum.
    And like the man in this story his life will never be worth nothing he turned it to 
scum.
So friend if you’re an alcoholic, admit it to yourself then seek help, and right away.
    But please do it before something like this happens, that’s all I have to say.


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ONE BOLD BLACK SOUL

often in the grand scheme of God's desires
He will use mankind to do what He requires
His providential purposes God's master plans
will utilize any and all types of man

the Pharoah declared a most horrendous decree
of infanticide on Jewish male babies
to put them to death to keep their numbers down
fearful of having too many Jewish males around
but history has a way of repeating itself again and again
as the young Black male populations today hangs by a fringe
with incarcerations, police brutality and killing each other
we're on the verge of eradicating our young Black brothers
a supposed threat to society that same old racist mentality

yet all it takes is for God to send someone to be bold
one person unafraid to break away from the mold
over 400 years of praying and keeping hope alive
a people once in slavery but today they now thrive
from Moses to Jeremiah to the Rev. Dr. King
to President Barak Obama God can change anything
One Bold Black Soul to say what needs to be said
One Bold Black Soul whose life is spirit-led

don't let the world compromise your moral integrity
let prayer be the tool you use to claim the victory
you need some solitude to simply reflect
on that which God desires of you and what of you He expects
God will be what you want no matter what you need
and He will do whatever is needed to help you succeed
so walk in the spirit and just wait for your time
and be ready to act when God gives you a sign
to be called into place with God's saving grace

Jeremiah told the people of the prophecy
about their demise if they confront their enemy
he was then thrown into a pit full of mud and slime
his death to be a certainty in a very short time
but One Bold Black Soul stepped up to the plate
and told the King to save Jeremiah before it was too late
One Bold Black Soul an Ethiopian man
told of the soldiers diabolical plans

to be bold, to be risky, to be resilient in your resolve
to step out of your comfort zone until the problem is solved
from Rosa Parks to Medgar Evers to Malcolm X
to do what is prevalent and not what society expects
creative in courage, inspired with innovation
by any means necessary to change the situation
One Bold Black Soul willing to step out on a limb
to stop history from repeating itself once again


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Morning Star

Across her village far deep in to the forrest Morning Star found peace and 
contentment. Here away from her village, the young girl enjoyed the daylight 
hours with the sounds and beauty of nature and it's animals. Beyond the forrest 
the mountains held a mystery all their own. Their beauty touched her soul and 
spirit yet they seems so far off to her.Her thoughts wondered what lay over them 
and what new world lay beyond those haunting peaks reaching to the sky.
    Suddenly the early morning was shattered by the sounds of gunfire. With all 
the men gone hunting no one was there to protect the village. Morning Star's 
thoughts were of not only the others in the village but of her mother and baby 
sister, she had to get back to them. Screams of women and children cut through 
the forrest as the scent  of smoke and the sounds of horses grew closer.  
Suddenly the sounds began to fade and only the smell of smoke remained. As 
she stood at the clearing, Morning Star saw what was left of her village. Unable to 
move as her eyes looked across the bodies of women and children laying all 
around. Tears filled her eyes as she walked by so many searching for her 
mother and baby sister, hoping that they had fled to safety. There in the dirt lay 
her mother clutching her baby sister, both dead. How could this have happened? 
How could the soldiers have done this to them?
  Morning Star placed a blanket over her their lifeless bodies and slowly walked 
away. Her life as she knew it was gone, dead along with her mother and baby 
sister. She was the only survivor.  Slowly she walked back into the forrest. Dusk 
was beginning and the forrest would keep her safe for the night. Tomorrow she 
would search for a way up to the mountains, there she would find a path to her 
destiny and what the spirits have chosen for her. She would be the only one to 
tell the story of all who had been lost this day. She would be the only one to keep 
their story alive for generations after this.


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My Little Girl

At first amazed consumed with pride,I have a little girl

Could It be just my joy that speaks
or can I be the luckiest man in the world

Each day I watched you come to life
ears piqued by every sound

I would sit for hours with bursting smile
just to watch you crawl around

As the years ensued and you grew before me
my great joy was tinged with worry

Such happiness of which dreams are made
should not pass in such a hurry

Through the years our times were so precious
each little event etched in my mind

Each mornings smile you shown upon me
a sweet and treasured find

And now my little girl stands before me
a woman tall and proud

Yet still if you stood away a million miles
i could touch you in a crowd

The reason I can say this
is because even when where apart

Those sweet memories that we share
we carry deep within our hearts


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TO BE TURNED BY FAITH

people have been thinking of their financial situations 
wondering if they have them in hand
and in this day of global economic fluctuations
wondering about the futures they had planned
people have been thinking about their spiritual walk
wondering if they are only talking the talk
do they tithe enough? do they pray all the time?
do they study the Word? do they keep God on their minds?
to be turned by faith we need to readjust 
our lives in relation to the God we say we trust
to be turned by faith we need to make a move
and get into a whole new spiritual groove

we're so stuck in our ruts in most aspects of our lives
the same tired jobs, the same old friends, the same personal strife
we need to look at our lives through the eyes of God
and rearrange it by making a brand new start
to just step out of the boat without the anchor of fear
to trust in the power of Jesus and remembering He is always near
to be turned by faith never to lose sight 
of the Lord Our God's guiding light
to be turned by faith by being happier and physically fit
totally trusting in that which is the Holy Spirit

God has placed us here for a reason
and will use each of us in due season
we all play a part in God's master plans
just let your belief be the vehicle that delivers you into His hands
the road might be rocky and the journey will be long
just let God position you where you'll prosper and be strong
in the boat with Jesus on the troubled seas of life
holding on and trusting in the power that is Christ
in the boat with Jesus now under His authority
in the boat with Jesus now sailing on calmer seas
to be turned by faith towards higher ground 
now that your situation has been turned around
to be turned by faith to no longer worry about what's up ahead
to be turned by faith with a life that's now spirit-led
to be healthier and happier trusting in God to provide all your needs
to be turned by faith and knowing with God you will succeed


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Knowing The Truth

I watched the sunshine,
fade from your days,
as something so secret,
was stealing you away.

Uneducated, and clueless,
I brushed it aside,
not realizing,
you could have died.

Friends are amazing,
they see what we hide,
then gently confront,
with tears in their eyes.

Knowing the truth,
was the first big step,
I had to admit it,
before you could be helped.

The struggle was hard,
weeks turned into months,
and for days you disappeared,
without calling once.

Then one day,
God answered my prayers,
performing a miracle,
with you in His care.

The love of our Father,
is always here,
but sometimes we are blinded,
by unknown fears.


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Ripples in the Sea

When I see this Moon and gaze deep into the stars,
My mind wanders as I search for where you are.
Looking up, looking down, this enormous Sea is where I can now be found.
Standing alone at the Ocean’s edge and hearing its roar,
My heart pounds and aches for so much more.
Gazing deeper and deeper out into this vast blue Sea,
I can gather myself with this soul that was given to me.
Ripples in the Sea are all that my eyes can see.
One by one they collide with force to touch what was given to me.
Infinity with the depths of this Sea, 
This is what the Moonlit Ocean conveys to the truth inside of me.
Standing alone and afar from the depths of this Sea,
Ripple by ripple captures the every breath that I have inside of me.
Oh how they carry every single thought away from the insides of me!
Reflections of our Moon spread across this glimmering Sea.
Endless and endless ripples!
This vision I know I will forever see!
I hold my breath and carry a true smile, 
Searching for that last ripple to reach its hundredth mile.
Alone I stand at the edge of this Sea, 
The depth of this Ocean covers over me.
I wonder and wonder can I truly hold what was given to me?
So if ever in search for that which you know you believe,
Please remember that I left me standing with the ripples in the Sea.
One by one they collide crashing directly into me.
I stand with a force that was given just for this person that lives inside of me.
Come to me! Please touch what is on the inside of me!
Feel what has been given just for the love of me!
So if ever in doubt for that which you truly know you believe,
Look deeper and deeper out into this incredible huge Sea.
The ripples one by one know you will believe.
They touch, they feel, they hear what is left standing out by the Sea,
And that my friend is the life that God had already chosen for the soul that lives inside of me.
 


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THE SUN IS GOING TO SHINE DOWN ON US ONE DAY

We may not have much money
but we are rich in love,
A lot of times our days may not seem all that sunny
but the Lord will bless the sun to one day come.
We may not can afford a whole lot of possessions
and we may not can afford name brand shoes or clothes,
Our happiness is not dictated by material possessions
neither by how fancy and grand is our home.
We may have to scrape and struggle hard just to survive
just to make the ends meet,
But we are rest assured that the Lord will provide
for us to have whatever we need.
There are days when our spirits may be low and frail
and all prospects seem hopeless and bleak,
We then remember the notion that God never gives us more than we can bare
things are not going to always seem hopeless and bleak.
Our strong faith is what lights our path along the way
in Him we have found a fortress and strength,
We believe strongly that the sunshine is going to shine down on us one day
just as long in God we continue to believe.


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making it great in 2008 (part 21): help a brother out

the rumor was noised about that Jesus was on site
and the spreading of the word was faster than the speed of light
Jesus was in the house preaching the Holy Word
telling the people about things of which they had never heard
when Jesus is in the house the atmosphere is electrified
the Holy Spirit is present and all things are amplified
a transformation is on the horizon
if of Jesus the Christ you keep your eyes on

excited, expectant and enthusiast
knowing that the Messiah was here at last
inspired and encouraged were 4 men who were most devout
looking for a way to help a brother out
their friend was paralyzed and needed spiritual assistance
so they went to see Jesus in a manner most persistent
the house was overcrowded and through the door they could not enter
so they cut a hole in the roof and lowered their friend down front and center
they placed him with his mat right in front of Jesus the Christ
praying and hoping for a miracle to take place in his life
Jesus then said "your sins are forgiven, stand and arise"
the Pharisees were most critical until they came to realize
that standing before them was God's righteous Son
Jesus the Christ, the Messiah, the Anointed One

to have compassion and to care for your fellow man
to help a brother out in anyway that you can
to be willing to climb up on a roof and lower someone down
just to be in the presence of Jesus standing on sacred ground
to have cooperation and coordination to work in unity
to know that together we can claim the victory
for no man is an island and we all need one another
so do what you can in order to help out a brother

to collaborate with others despite your personal feelings
to get the job done so that we all can get some healing
with cooperation, coordination and collaboration first in mind
those 4 friends were determined that of Jesus they would find
with true faith, total trust and nary a doubt 
they did what was needed to help a brother out
by any means necessary with a radical concept
they did a risky thing that no one would ever expect
Jesus looked at that paralytic and immediately dealt with his sin
for in order to be healed you must start with the spirit within
and after the absolution He told him to stand and arise
and all who were present were amazed and stupefied
so when you walk with Jesus walk without doubt
and trust that the Lord will help a brother out


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Memoirs of Pope John Paul II

He gave me a strong impact,
with his gift for immemorial gestures;
he embraced the sick and handicapped
he kissed the soil of the nation on his first vist.

As an occupant of the Chair of St Peter,
he brought the world, a message to everyone
his defense for the poor, a substance to carry on
as a church in her journey across cultures.

The awesome volume of his writings,
reveal the kind of pope he was
as a theologian suffused with faith;
as a philosopher endowed with reason.

In his very person, he was charismatic
as a teacher and defender of faith, 
he set new directions, left a legacy
and continued the Roman Curia, multicultural.

On themes expounded in his documents,
speeches, homilies and reflections,
he brought the Gospel vis-a-vis the Magisterium
in all spheres that concern contemporary life.

As the first non-Italian pope in 455 years,
since the Netherlander Hadrian VI in 1552
and ever since his election to papacy,
by any measure, he’s a man for all seasons.

Albeit, he’d his disappointments,
his own share of sorrows over clergy in misbehavior –
the scandal of sexual abuse, particularly in this nation,
he remained firm and prayerful as a leader.

In spite of his frailty, Parkinson’s disease and other ailments
he continued his journey with deep faith and sacrifice.
his interreligious relations made a difference,
he visited mosques, synagogues and convened those other leaders.

He canonized saints more than 470  of them,
he beatified more than a thousand men and women.
such a milestone in the life of our Catholicism,
the call to holiness woven in discipleship.

He impressed believers of every faith
with his greatness in many ways;
like one of his favorite phrases, 
quoting what St Augustine once said,
“Vobis sum episcopus, vobiscum christianus,” 
he celebrated life, helped shape Christendom
with analyses of countless human lives.


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The book of life

Like the Chinese says…
‘ one generation plants a tree,
another gets the shade’.
If watered verily, the tree blossom.
The tree expands in branches,
and bears seeds for another plant.

This is the story of life.

life is living, live it.
Life is a seed, sow it.
Life is purpose, fulfill it. 
Life is an issue, attend to it.
Life is matter, fill it. 
Life is matter of life and death. 
Life is a mind-blowing experience.


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The Great White Shield

Held prisoner under His Stars, 
I have fallen under the shadows of THE “Great White Shield”.
At a distance, those shimmering lights covered over me.
Built on THE highest plains, I stand parallel even when His rains come down.
My wall stands tall as my fate is promised and sealed.
I see my passage through time as I hold sturdy to my only God given ground.
I am all that I know I can ever be.
Confined by a little world where all that there is has been lost or found,
My bleeding wall holds my “ ALMIGHTY’S Great Armored White Shield“.
Balanced with time even when His rains are pouring down!
It stands to serve and to protect the best of the living me.
Layer by layer it builds with the strength it has lost or found.
For, I am all that is genuinely real.
Conditioned by my endurance, His Stars my eyes still can see.
Ruling the way that I move, His existence is wrapped tightly and I abound.
Parallel on His plains, a sturdy wall I did gradually help Him build.
My wall protects the only person inside of me.
I secure my only ground as I hold onto His “Great White Shield”.
I am all that I have ever truly found.
When the rains pour down on me, 
I stand atop of all His battled ground.
When I am all with my realest deal,
I am all that can or will be found.
When I am all that I know I can ever be,
I carry a strength that alone I can build.
I am the carrier of my Almighty’s Great White Shield”.


®Registered: 1998  Ann Rich


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GRACE

              Nodding off in my dilapidated easy chair; a soft gentle knock on the door
           Stand and stagger to answer it; I kick an empty beer can across the floor.
           Bleary eyed I look through the peek hole, I don’t see anyone there.
           Slowly I turn towards the LIVING ROOM , shaking my finger in my ear.
           The noise startled me : TAP  TAP  TAP that’s all I could hear.
           Do I answer the door , or go get a cold beer.
           I turn back around ( I’m getting dizzy ) the door I quickly open wide.
           A dishearten young girl, nine maybe ten; three days dirt on her face:
                                                                                                       I CRIED

                                          ( to be continued )


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The Sign Reads Life

  
Well Lord here I go again I’m hanging on the edge.
   It just seems like every time I try to climb I wind up out on a ledge.
I don’t know what I keep doing wrong but help me if You can.
   After all You know what I am Sir, I’m just a mortal man.
I’m trying hard I hope You know, I hope You understand.
   The devil had me for so long, when I followed his command.
Since I broke free, he keeps grabbing at me, I think I made him mad.
   But it’s my soul I’m fighting for and if he doesn’t like it I guess it’s just too bad.
I need You to kind of watch my back when he comes slipping around.
   Be glad when he gets sent away, all neat and tightly bound.
Lord I know I’m not much of a catch, but please don’t throw me back.
   It’s mighty hard when you’ve been bad to follow in Your righteous tracks.
I know it’s Your will so I’ll do my best to make You proud of me.
   But I’m fighting hard and I’ve still got a ways until I’m fully free.
Like it says in Matthews, wide is the gate and broad the way which leads to 
destruction.
   Here lately the road I’ve been on has been pretty torn up and full of construction.
There’s a sign up ahead narrow is the way, and strait is the gate.
     On down the road I see the gate with a sign that reads “Life”, could this be my 
fate.
For all you yahoos out there, who think you’re too far gone, think again.
   Man why do you think Jesus died on that cross, so God would forgive us our 
sins.
As long as we’re still alive and breathing we still have a chance.
   Be a soldier in our Saviors army, He paid your way in advance.
Think about it, prove me wrong.
   Bud I’m praying for your soul, while the devil’s just leading you on.
                   


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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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UNTITLED

You are making it near impossible 
for me to stay,
The situation between us has gotten critical
and I feel that I must walk away.
How in the world are we going to make it
when all seems t be falling apart,
We both cannot keep trying to fake it
because the deceit is only making things hard.
I am so tired of being emotional
and you turning a cold shoulder to me,
You no longer want to listen to my problems
I guess you have grown tired of me.
Between us there is just so much pressure and strain
there is no way we can go on,
We are both causing one another heartache and pain
how could something so right go so wrong?
I feel that all is slipping away
and I am trying so hard to hold on to it,
I do not want to resort to walking away
that is why I am determined to hold on to what is left.
But there is only so much I can take
before I say enough is enough,
All I can do is just pray
that with you I do not fall out of love.


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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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Depth of discomfort

What a day! It’s pouring so hard . . .
I’d to go to the airport to pick up somebody
a wet day! ‘un día mojado’, such a day, indeed!
but, I’d to go for he must have arrived already.

When I got there passengers in drove were elsewhere,
cabs, vans, trucks, and many cars were waiting;
while waiting outside, a sheriff came telling us to move on
that made me decide to make another round and see
if he’d be when I come back to pick him up.

However, he hadn’t emerged as yet and therefore,
I decided to take another round and park the car;
still pouring, oh Lord of the Most High!
I found it difficult to get back with certain roads closed
especially in Terminal A where I was heading for;
indeed, what a day! What a disaster! What a mess, so to say.

I felt so sorry for him for that long procession of waiting
Hours in waiting while struggling to find other ways
to meet him – his Excellency, whose eyes were whitened
waiting, waiting, what an annoying day!
then traffic congestion greeted us on our way,
another experience, another test of patience.


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Family Survival

Living in the moment
is so hard to do
When your life is being blown around,
like the wind outside the door.

Not knowing how you will survive
And rebuild your entire life
While trying to protect
your unborn child.

Your house has survived
But all your food is gone,
Electricity did not survive
The monster called The Storm.

Hiding the tears
from those you love,
Trying to be brave
And pushing to be strong.

Taking care of a toddler
With one on the way,
Would not have been possible
But family saved the day.

Living in a house
With ten adults and five kids
Worrying was not allowed
But to live in the day.

God saw us through
And we all survived
It drew the sisters closer
And created a stronger bond.

For all the destruction
That Katrina created,
She could not destroy
The spirit of family.



This is dedicated to my four sisters and my parents. Through many trials and 
tribulations, we have stuck together as a true family. Helping each other is not a 
burden but a privilege. Even as we have little tiffs and fights, we still stick 
together; For we have a special bond that can never be broken.


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God's Grace

The shadows are gone now,
as the sun brings new life,
a new beginning,
as this eagle takes flight.
Yesterdays troubles,
still have their place,
but this humble soul,
was saved by God's Grace.
For unexplained reasons,
my weakness is gone,
I see now the consequence,
of a sinners song.
Fresh is the morning,
warm is the rain,
as a whole new world,
unlocks miseries chains.


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My Life's Song

The lights are fading,
as the shoreline disappears,
where another horizon,
awaits my tears.
How can one know,
or do I dare,
wonder,
does he even care.
Hearts stale with remorse,
broken,
from rejection, and pain,
without hesitation,
I'm between here, and insane.
Salt in my eyes,
the taste on my lips,
remembering,
many a trip.
Still that desire,
an ember so dim,
faintly creeps,
a sillouette of him.
Darkness has fallen,
my mind rambles on,
somewhere,
I will find my life song.




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Two Lights

Lonely shadows surround, life’s flickering light.
Meaningless and cold, they darken the night.

Empty desperation fills the night all around.
Yet wonder and beauty of life still abound.

One day soon, I hope will appear.
Another light’s flicker, for me to be near.

Another light shining forth, pushing shadows away.
To be with me for life, I hope she will stay.

Together our hearts will shine like the stars,
All the wonder and beauty to share will be ours.


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HE NOT ONLY FORGAVE ONE...BUT ALL

Dying on that blood-dripping cross,
Jesus felt sympathy for the wailing and weeping women,
and turning to the good thief:
He promised a place for him in Paradise...
and feeling forsaken He called out to His Father again.
Suddenly lightning stroke,
and thunder caused havoc!
A great earthquake shook the foundations of the Temple,
darkness descended as if it were night and made the Pharisees tremble!
He not only forgave one....but all,
and expiring, he gave up His breath;
and yet some did not believe He would have risen up! 
He lay there for two days, and on the third day He rose:
the tomb's stone swiftly rolled away...
as the Roman soldiers were blinded by a radiant light;
yes, they did see the Christ who had died,
a Christ crowned King: claiming His power and glory! 
He not only forgave one...but all by showing them a love so unsullied;
how could they have been so skeptical about a resurrection that really occurred?


Copyright (C) 2010 by Andrew Crisci


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UNTITLED

Every time I would think about leaving you
a little vice would tell me to stay,
Giving me the will and strength in wanting to make it through
giving me the faith and belief of a brighter and better day.
Whenever times would seem to be getting too rough
my only instinct was wanting to flee,
And I would feel that I would have had enough
allowing so much of the pain to take over my being.
It would be during those times that I would softly hear
a comforting voice say to me:
"Be strong and hold on to his love which is so dear
keep the faith and continue to believe."
It would then be that little voice that would encourage me
to remain by your side until the very end,
I am then finally able to see
that a love like ours is much too good to end.


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Concept

Love is a theory a concept a thought
Yet our knowledge of concept only reflects what's been taught

It's been written and spoken
as though it's essence could be touched

yet definition of a passion
can reveal just so much

The love I have for you is none of these things
It's akin to the moment birds discover there wings

Now I have told you I love,and can say it with a word
But for love to be true it must be more than just heard

Now i can surely say that you love me, this I can do
For when you say these words to me I believe them to be true

So when I tell you I love you,you will also know this is true
And this is because you believe in me as I believe in you


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The Answers

When I think about the way I live.
The way people take all I can give.
They gather all around me now.
They can't feel the love,forgot,somehow.

Their empty eyes and cold dark hearts
save all their worth in shopping carts.
Disconnected by a cold dull knife.
Pain and loneliness seem their way of life.

The open signs that they disdain
attest to where their hearts have lain.
Creating chaos,feeling no shame.
Always looking for someone else to blame.

If they stay on this path then satans won.
Their clouded minds think God is gone.
They must wake up it's not to late.
It's not just a cruel twist of fate.

You may ignore,you may deny.
But deep inside,you want to cry.
You look elsewhere to be fulfilled.
But the answers lie inside you still.


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Mansions in the Sky

The Stars lit up the skies and nothing could I see,
Except these huge Mansions that fly in the sky.
Swirling winds picked me up and carried me high.
Making trails in the clouds it was just me.
It was breathtaking just to be,
Afloat the top of mansions that fly.
The Moon was bright and the Sun a bit dry.
They were huge and magnificent to oversea.
 Mansions in the sky that fly above it all.
Mesmerized I went in and found no end.
None were too small.
None occupied, not even by a friend!
Mansions that fly fill a brilliant sky,
All emptied but not by I!
 
 
© Copyright: Ann Rich  2006


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All My Friends

My many friends, 
this is for all of you,
please know in your heart,
you are so important to me,
in this soup we brew.
Although miles apart,
we are only a click away,
visiting each other,
everyday.
I love you all,
and I wanted you to know,
for so many times,
we forget to show.
You bring me happiness,
I become a part of you,
reading your memories,
when you allow me to.
Sharing your heartache,
joining in a prayer,
each one so special,
please know I care.
When one day is over,
and another begins,
I can't wait to read,
the new words,
of all my friends.


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Children of Divorce

Today’s young generation has its recurring profile,
its tapestry that gets into the mainstream of humanity;
quite a big deal to understand what’s life for them
may mean to generate values and roles to understand.

Traditional gender roles and older generations,
increasingly, reasons to hang on to family values;
with a wider range of scope and tendency to see
that parents in toto contribute to solve other issues.

But without the presence of parents in every home,
children are quite in danger to trace family values;
without guidance and role models to embody them
especially in formation or upbringing in their homeland.

Perhaps the Christian outreach to these children, 
whose identity has to be formed and acknowledged;
in diverse situations where they take part as persons,
a good opportunity to develop their sense of growing.

Children of divorce are still children of our Lord
their own share of hardships and life’s relationships,
are gifts to combine faith in their quest for God’s word,
dimensions of truth and human forces of growth.

Wrapped with human dignity and sense of identity,
these children cope with a giant step through faith
undaunted by the storms and challenges of this world
remain precious creatures of our Lord and Savior.


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Fallen Hero

No man could clarify my pain into one single solitary word
when your hero falls whats there to feel but hurt
such a strong indivual unable to be knocked off their feet
never knowing the definition of lose, now openly admitting defeat
what happened to that strong determined person i had grown to admire
to hear you have fallen from the post of hero from which you have chosen to retire
as you fell from the pedastal i placed you on
i realised my character of admiration wasn't as strong
as the illusion of a person i built my life on
you were the template i drew my life from not what do i do
i'm half way through that drawing so do i finish it and fail like you
before your spirit weakened and your pride collapsed you were all i wanted to be
but now i see you for what you truly are, thats not what i want for me
how can somebody so true, be so free to abondon their honesty
you used to be so kind, noble, helpfull, showing nothing but modesty
you were there to show a better side to the world outdoors 
never taking anything from others but now your taking a great deal more
you were a best friend a honest soul a shoulder to cry on
a solid post an open ear, a person to rely on
now your just an empty room, the bed on which i die on
you used to be an open mind i felt free to talk to
now you have chosen in my words the wrong woods to walk through
how do i tell you exactly how i feel
you know the worlds a dangerous place why let them steal
the one thing that seperates you from us, your precious loving soul
why dont you attack a situation with nothing but your all
you always put your heart before everything including wealth
you haven't just let down the world you've let down your self


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Flos Florum

Seeing how Christians venerate
the Blessed Mother, with the title of Theotokos 
her signficance, role to play in history
reminds everyone of her faith and humility.

She’s destined to be blessed among women
free from original sin, pure in her totality.
to be the Mother of God, the Mother of Christ;
she’s indeed God’s revelation to whole creation.

In those times where faith was being questioned,
doctrines of the church and other Catholic traditions;
divisions and heresies were brought to the fore
like a battle of reasons, faith convictions, and devotions.

Men and women of faith walked through difficult times,
they remained convinced that the Blessed Mother
interceded for them in many ways and times;
thus, their song of joy and trust to her intercession
to God whose love for all can be beyond measure.

She’s Sancta Dei genitrix, Mater divina gratiae         
whose sanctity and faith made a colossal difference,
In God’s plan, the one who’s to come on earth,
will be born by a certain Jewish woman, Mary.     
 
She listened most of the time no matter what,
her faithfulness to God’s covenant revealed
that Mary, her name, became  a global inspiration
through her obedience to God’s will and her culture.

She’s mostly depicted in statues and pictures
as a humble servant, a beautiful mother with a heart
compassionate, faithful, and open to afflictions
with her Son Jesus who suffered and died on the cross.

She’s a paragon of being obedient to God’s words
her basic words uttered in reliance upon his divine will;
that it’s his will, not hers, that matters the whole action
called to take part in the mystery of human salvation.

Oh Mary! Mother of all mankind, seat of wisdom,
you’re the promise foretold by the prophets of old
through your participation in this plan of redemption,
a gift of eternity championed the cause of her Son’s return 
as the Risen Lord gives hope and mercy to whole humanity.


Note:
1)  Flos Florum meaning “flower of flowers,” refers to the lily.  This symbol of purity, associated with the Blessed Virgin Mary and her most chaste spouse St Joseph, is highly appropriate for Paul VI, whose pontificate is best remembered for the promulgation of that widely contested encyclical on marital chastity.
2)  Theotokos  ( “God bearer “ or “Mother of God”) for the Mother of Jesus
3)  Sancta Dei Genitrix means Holy Mother of God
4)  Mater Divina Gratia means Mother of divine grace

                                                   


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Another On The Way

Seemed all was perfect,
in her carefree world,
an only child,
this perfect little girl.
Spoiled to perfection,
nothing she lacked,
a life to dream of,
everything right on track.
Graduation came,
the top of her class,
the gifts were many,
and so much cash.
She told her father,
I want to be a nurse,
but there is something else,
I have to do first.
So she joined the service,
she wanted to serve,
all her friends thought,
she didn't have the nerve.
Up in the ranks,
she started to climb,
such a caring person,
so hard to find.
Then overseas,
she had to go,
her future about to change,
but how could she know.
Into a hospital,
to check some charts,
she had no way of knowing,
someone would capture her heart.
When their eyes met,
she knew it was love,
a feeling like no other,
sent from above.
Now her father,
is tickled pink,
his baby's coming home,
wearing a ring.
Now she is busy,
nursing all day,
the twins are a handful,
and another on the way.




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Irreversable

You can't undo what has been done. 
This bridge has burned. 
I crossed it weeks ago. 
The hour glass has turned over. 
Time has run out like a pen that has bled its last dot of ink. 
You can swim or sink. 
Sink into the whole you have created for yourself. 
It's irreversable. 
You can't go back now. 
No more looking into the rear view. 
Pick up your head or bury it. 
Your eyes have changed.
 I no longer see them shimmer with signs of hope. 
You are up against the ropes. 
You can't go back and rewrite the past. 
Quit looking back. 
I'll break the rear view just look ahead. 
Look alive or you're better off dead. 
What you've done is irreversable. 
Nothing can be changed. 
So pick yourself up and breathe in today. 
Don't look behind just keep walking straight. 
This path has been broken but only you can seal your fate. 
Pick up your head or just start digging your grave. 
Time is too precious to waste.
 The past can't be changed. 
Let it go.


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Letters From Someone You Loved

Dearest love,
I hope this message finds you well,
I only hope I don't die
before I find my way to you
in this letter form I must lye.

Bombs are my goodnight hug
and riffle shot my lullaby;
deaths my goodnight kiss
and war scenes my dreams high.

It's funny how I live in monotony
yet they say expect the unsuspected
as gun shots whiz by
we know, our lives by death have been accepted.

Boys cry for mommy
as their lives bleed away
and it seems the ink I write you in
is their blood after each day.

My love I hope soon to return
to once again be with you my beloved
and hope you can still find me as you look in my eyes
and recognize me as someone you once loved.


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II. Father Jones

The passage was dark and damp
over a month locked inside a cell under the sea somewhere
but when Father Jones planted his feet back on solid ground
and saw the Statue of Liberty rising like a green mountain into the gray sky
he knew he had found his country. The free life was not always so easy,
and he had to work for his milk & honey. After he took 
a bayonet through the lung in Germany, he settled down to turn cogs
in a Pittsburg factory, but knew it was all worth it when he laid eyes on
Mother Jones. Their sons became salesmen, and the youngest 
married a Dutch girl, who adopted my father, who met my mother
studying at Vanderbilt, the Harvard of the south.


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God Bless America

When we pledge our allegiance to the Flag of the United States of America.
    And also to the Republic for which it stands, one Nation under God.
It doesn’t say under budda or allah or any other form of belief that is not 
Christian. Indivisible which means we are not to be divided. With Liberty which 
we have ungrudgingly shared, and Justice which we are daily being deprived of. 
And last it says for All, which I take it to mean for Americans and our way of life. 
This is a pledge only for Americans and intended only for Americans. That was 
written by Americans many years ago that had been suppressed of many rights 
we now take for granite. When we give up one right think of all the blood that was 
let just so you could have that right.

To my brothers and sisters that live in this land.
    Let us reclaim freedom as in God as we stand.
Let us stop the abortions and save the child.
    Return discipline back to the educators in return for a child that is not wild.
Remove elected officials that don’t do their job or do what they say.
   Send those to jail that accept bribery or pay.
Stop turning your head when you see something that is not right.
    Beef up the minutemen and teach them to fight.
Goods can be exchanged at the borders but allow no foreign vehicle to traverse 
cross our land.
    No more immigrants allowed, no more can this country of ours stand.
We are united and we have all sworn the oath.
     To better our country and cherish its growth.


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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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Remembering the Heroes

So many lives lost
On that tragic day
But their memories
Will never fade away
Horrific visions
Forever etched deep within our minds
All the sorrow
For those they could not find
An attack on us all
As we watched in disbelief
So many years later
As we still search for some relief
An entire nation
Joined together as one
Against the horror
That to all of us has been done
With faith and hope
We can move beyond the woes
As we share a moment of silence
Remembering the heroes

The End
By Greg P


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A Long Awaited Thank You


When I was young and in Jr. High I had this teacher who would take jabs at me.
     She’d catch me looking at the clock, and for the whole class to see.
She’d comment things like time will pass but what about you?
     Little things like this she would always do.
She made me feel like I was no good.
     Till she explained one day the best she could.
She said I know you can do so much more, but I have to push you to make you 
give.
     She said apply yourself don’t let your life become a sieve.
I didn’t understand just right away.
    Those prophetic words she gave to me that long ago day.
Now that I’m old and she’s no longer here.
     Those words keep whispering into my ear.
Now I thank her for what she did.
      She saw something in me though I was just a kid.
She said it’s a little thing called discipline.
      Just close your mouth and listen in.
She was right and now I see. 
      I thank you ma’am for your faith in me.
She said always hitch your wagon to a star.
      Believe in yourself and who you are.
This poem is for her and her encouraging words.
     You got my attention and yes I heard.


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Of homecoming

As the old saying goes, “be it ever so humble,
there’s no place like home.”
no matter what the place has promises to make,
to a certain period of time the inner core echoes,
‘I’ve to go soon; I miss my routine along with people.

Priorities at hand and much more the essentials,
given the freedom where I ought to keep that in mind;
it’s a kind of experience, an opportunity that goes hand in hand,
because being at home there’s a vision, a lovely action.

It’s amazing how things can make a great deal of difference,
with depth and length of life, God’s presence forms a meaning
in relationship which is replete with bounds and proportions
that capture the essence of being someone who returns home.

Its metaphorical connection finds an answer to my faith in Him
It’s like an encounter with familiar rhythm of my Asian background,
amid all the apparent successes and failures, or blessings and woes;
with the passage of time along with the flurry of interests done,
certain elements of change become a reason to come by.

There’s excitement and willingness to reconnect with loved ones,
friends, relatives, and all those who’ve been part of the process –
this kind of experience that shapes the wellspring of my perspective
opens the windows to showcase the wealth of mem’ries in depth.


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Hearts Are So Different

Hearts are so different,
the sweet, and the cold,
even from the same family,
the meek, and the bold.
Some offer kindness,
as others bring pain,
some radiates laughter,
while others follow Cain.
Often we are blind,
our patience is thin,
but these lost souls,
could be our next of kin.
A little more time spent,
to show them we care,
maybe a helping hand,
prove you'll be there.
Then you have some,
nothing will soften their hearts,
not until God,
penetrates that part.


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Remembering

As the fragrance fades,
of love once so deep,
into the unknown,
where she now weeps.
Silent she stares,
at what once was there,
pictures, a reminder,
remembering, 
when her children were there.
Silver is her hair,
her body frail, and weak,
she calls their names,
as the tears roll down her cheeks.
Where have they gone,
why don't they call,
forgotten in time,
trying to recall.
Miles are between them,
their busy days, and nights,
just trying to survive,
and a mother cries.
Lonely she is,
and lonely she will be,
as she hangs their pictures,
on her Christmas Tree.


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In the final mystery

Moments ago I learned about her death
saddened and grieved her loss. 
she's a friend, a sister and a teacher;
she touched my life and helped me hang on to God.

  She's an angel who created a space in my heart
  with her true friendship that she lived through,
  all at the core and on the edge of her life,
  developed that care for a process can share.

I seemed to be tongue-tied, speechless and weak.
reflecting on her precious, vivid memories,
those introspections and pages of her past;
I was grief-stricken; moved with tears and human sadness.

  How I wish my tears could build a stairway;
  and those lovely memories be like a road lane,
  if I would climb the ladder like in Jacob's dream;
  I would not hesitate to bring you home again.

My friend, my friend, I wish you could tell me,
where you're now, I claim you're with your Maker.
you lived your life on earth - with profundity, love and care;
truly, you're a beacon of exemplary life, a model to everyone.


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Five Glychostones

There’s five glychostones and they’re hid very well.

One is a link to the future of a God given Grace.
One is a key to all of the boxes stuffed with mail.
One is a code to an ancient mystery and is a case.
One is a seed that grows throughout all the lands.
Moreover, the last is a main element for survival!

So we go journeying for the glychostones in the kingdom halls up in hands,

What a redemptive Holy revival!
Hands in hands they shall all go.
Not one, but two knows their way.
Just hope and always, always pray!
And never simply say I don’t know!

Just search for the five glychostones enriched in its purest true value,
Moreover, each has essential life sustaining merits of valor or honor, 
Hands fill up in the sands when the farmer awakens inside all of you!

Just search for five glychostones and seek to explore all you can do,
Each glychostone reaps in merits and honors ordained pure and true.

You will find every single one of them decked out in crystallites’ blue!
You are splendid with many abundant blessing hands upon your lands!


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Teach By Example

He looked so sweet, 
as he stared through the window,
a pair of cowboy boots had caught his eye.
watching, as he looked down at his little feet,
I knew what he was thinking,
Cowboy boots, wow, I wish I had these,
was the expression on his face.
(Sometimes we get so caught up in our own self wants,
we don't take the time, to see the needs of others.
It was cold, and his tennis shoes looked as thought they
had seen too many winters.)
I ask, is Santa going to bring you a pair of cowboy boots 
for Christmas?
He did not answer just looked down at his old worn out shoes,
and I knew he had little hope of this happening.
Inside the store a woman was watching; as she walked
over to the window,  and gently knocked on the glass.
 She Pointing to the boots, his eyes lit up in disbelief, as she took
the boots to the counter.
The clerk come out, and ask the boy to come inside for a 
minute.
I knew in my heart, that this kind lady was about to give this
little boy, one of the most valuable lessons in life.
There are still people left in this world, that see the needs of others,
and I know this will stay with him for the rest of his life.


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Walking on Water

I turn my back and look the other way, 
My shadow is a bliss you hope and pray!
I’m walking on water at the stroke of midnight,
Searching for the hope of a breaking daylight!
Everything’s just so incredibly beyond bright!
Closing my eyes to a brand new day,
Shutting down inside and feeling everything just die.
My thoughts surely would make you an empty man inside!
I’m walking on water in the shadows of daybreak,
Searching for the hope of my lost and alone faith!
Everything’s just so outrageously beyond great!
I close my mind to the brand new light of day.
Closing my eyes and just walking away,
But my shadow you hope and pray will surely stay.
I’m walking on water at the peak of nightfall,
Looking for this huge magnificently clear waterfall!
Everything’s just so enormously beyond tall!
I close my eyes and I begin to pray.
My thoughts could surely give hope to all,
For I walk on water on each and every day!


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Try Not To Judge

Come take my hand,
don't turn away,
try not to judge,
I just lost my way.
My journey began,
trying to be cool,
following friends,
who were lost too.
Deeper, and deeper,
into the fire,
without a net,
walking on high wires.
Everything lost,
my family, and faith,
dwelling in misery,
in the hell I made.
Beyond this grave,
I see a light,
oh so faint,
but a wonderful sight.
Positive I must be,
if I am to survive,
does anyone care,
if I am alive?
Alone, and crying,
I clench my fist,
how could I allow,
a tragedy like this?
A new beginning,
someone does care,
help is coming,
from the light somewhere.
A hand I see,
is reaching for me,
please heal me Lord,
from this addicts need.

A prayer for my son..his journey to recovery is about to begin... please pray for him...


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Sin No More


                  
There was a time when I wouldn’t let my Savior in.
    Just your everyday casualty who led a life of sin.
Reveling in myself the way most sinners do.
    This life I was living was just something to get through.
I see myself now on top of the mountain and I’m looking down.
    At the life that I led I was a man who was about to drown.
I feel so ashamed of all that wasted time.
   But Jesus forgives us no matter what the crime.
My heart used to be so calloused and cold.
    You felt all alone even when you had someone to hold.
It was an empty feeling in the pit of your gut.
    The harder you climbed the deeper the rut.
I’m not sure how it happened it just came together one day.
   Maybe it was my wife and my mom, for me, they would constantly pray.
For something got me here, and I’m mighty thankful that it did.
   I was like the little boy who thought he would be punished, I just ran and hid.
Well Lord Jesus I know, that I know I was wrong.
    And I thank You for waiting, and I’m truly sorry that I took so long.
Trying to play catch up I’ve got a lot to learn.
    But you’ve given me a chance to save my soul from hell, and its eternal burn.
This feeling I’ve got since I was born again.
    It feels so great to know I can live a life without sin.
    I Praise You Father!


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Prologue

I remember standing with my feet in the laughing waters of the lake
Watching a feather float on by 
Slowly down the shoreline it went
As if I was meant to follow it and so I did just that

I followed the feather
With its black tip and two stripes
Splashing along after it
In the cold waters 
With the sands between my toes

The sun shinning brightly above me through speckle clouded sky
Where a cooling breeze whispered in across the waters
To soothe my skin and breathe upon my face
Lightly run its fingers through my hair

And there on the lakeshore I came upon her
Beautiful with her black hair
Like the daylight shooting stars cascading through the sky above us
White dress and smile . . . 

A smile such that it held fast my breath
Across her eyes it fell sweetly, tenderly in her lips and cheeks
Sheathed by her hair swaying in the wind’s soft touch

She held the feather in her hand
Her eyes met mine and there in the early morning light of summer’s sighing
I did speak to she . . .

“That’s my feather,” my voice it whispered hardly more than a breath

“It’s beautiful,” said she with a soft voice and shy smile

And still when she smiled I remembered everything
I remembered her
I remember you
As my little fingers with the fullness of life yawning before them 
Tied the feather into your hair
I remembered in a wash of tears streaming down my soul, 
I do, I do, I did and I will again . . .

“My name’s Navriss,” I sighed and though I could not see through these tears

“Hi,” I heard you say. “My name is Rhane.” 

And I remembered then . . .

A smile


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Death of a nun

Her name was Sister Mary Mercedes Gleason,
A tiny woman with so much wisdom and care,
who belonged to the religious congregation -
the Presentation of the Blessed Virgin Mary.

She lived a longer life: 98 years of age,
amazing and a flashing mem’ry to all
her imprint of life she shared with everyone
she dedicated herself to the religious life.

She died in sleep at the early hours of Tuesday, 
with serenity and less suffering thus far;
what a beautiful soul! What a gift of holiness!
truly,  a woman of the Gospel in every sense.

Her community grieved her loss and,
at the same time celebrated for her new birth –
that’s in heaven, in the life hereafter with her Maker;
rejoicing with her triumphant journey with Him.

She lived longer for higher purposes and meanings,
embracing the challenges of being a religious;
expressed in human language and good works,
her examplary life manifested with piety and humility.

With her balm of choice to love and be mindful
of people around her in diverse moods and feelings;
she would love to share with them even in moments
with her caring presence to accost them with a smile.

She’s history, memories and relationship in toto,
Like everyone else, her life went on the calendar;
Like a new chapter that says, ‘to live to die is gain.’ 
her own life is a testimony, an inspiration to all.


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The Night of the Moon

It's the night of the moon
and though it's not in my sight.
The magic will be here soon.
The full moon takes the stage tonight.

I feel as low as the tide. 
The dark clouds set the tone.
Watching waves and sand collide.
I walk the beach all alone.

The clouds are fighting the sun.
They can't keep the bright light behind.
Sunset and beauty become one.
Doubt and hope crowd my mind.

Brilliant hues of orange,pink,and red
contrasting with clouds dark and gray
The sun paints a picture before bed
and then takes the painting away.

Splashing way out there in the sea.
Winking stars playfully laughing out loud.
I wonder,how this can be?
The night wont carry a cloud.

Where have all the clouds gone?
They've been plucked out of the sky.
The battle with the sun was been won.
I question not how, only why?

There's a bright glow in the west.
The curtain goes up for the show.
Dancing lights on the water are next.
Slowly rising the moon seems to grow.

Sometimes it's such a spiritual thing.
When nature reveals what it can truly do.
I can almost hear this moon sing.
So extravagant, it must be alive too.

My memory goes back to a time.
When the moon stole the show like this. 
I was with a girl that was so fine
and remembered that,that night we kissed.

But my memories are what had me down. 
I can't remember too many good.
There was the clouds at sundown
and suddenly I understood.

If I only kept good thoughts in my minds eye
and make all the bad ones just finish.
Maybe then my thoughts wont seem to magnify
what my memory can't seem to diminish.

Out with the bad thoughts in with the new. 
I'll fill my head with good memories only. 
But it seems that there are so few
that my thoughts might just get lonely.

That makes a smile come to my lips
and I wonder, did I just laugh out loud?
I watch enchanted as the moon slips
across the sky without a cloud.

My mood has changed I realize.
I knew I felt that pull.
Now I know hope never dies.
Hope lives in a moon this full.


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Endless concerns

There are countless ways
to see, judge, and act;
like in theology or other disciplines
where values and concerns
reflect the right meaning.

As Christians committed to life
a great taste for relationship
becomes the centerpiece,
the priority in a journey.

It’s in this context though,
that human relationship matters
where there’s a sharing of life,
along with the struggles and joys.

While everyone strives to be human,
at the major crossroads – difficulties
truly, they’re part of life’s experiences
known to shape from within
its interiority, the inner soul.
Many saints have experienced too
those moments of dryness,
doubt and reluctance in their prayers
notwithstanding their spirituality reveals
that right focusing on God alone.

Yet in our life’s articulation,
brings into the limelight – God’s love
it’s always a continuing revelation,
an endless concern in today’s culture;
with God and those around us
remain the basis of what life is all about.


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Docked by Time

Celebrating the glare that glows,
A reflection of you creeps in.
The glory of high rank again!
Somebody you do not know,
But a sacrifice all the same!
Docked by time with a name!
Riding the high tides,
A fear of you sets in.
The smile of pride again,
Somebody you hide,
But a sacrifice all the same!
Docked by time playing the game!
Laughter with the fame you claim,
The sound of you drifts in,
The look of confidence seen again,
Somebody you remain.
But a sacrifice all the same!
Docked by time is such a shame!


®Registered: Ann Rich 1998


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Sequim may still beckon

The quagmire of being a listener and a decider at the same time
may take a challenge on how to respond well to certain actions;
visible or invisible that may entail a careful look or understanding
can be a potential force to generate the so-called explanations.

There are choices to make and the roads seem  rough and bumpy,
at times there are snow storm, blizzard, sleet, or freezing rain;
with highway crews scrambling to clear the roads and pathways,
and the traffic that snarls and many vehicles that squeeze in to some lanes.

Taken together, as these may symbolize some good and bad times,
the sense of being involved and thrown to a particular lifestyle;
this, however, can provide us a better picture for a total vision,
those problems and preoccupations that normally draw us in.

The language of silence – an invitation that happens within,
its core meaning unearths its significance in decision making
like being in sequim where we can think and reflect well;
as we may be attuned to the source of inspiration.

It’s no easy task when we come to grips with a dilemma,
our whole system gets involved especially in our thinking;
it’s like a movement within, with tension in sequim,
but at least in conjunction with the wisdom of our reason.


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Watch Over Him

We have a new President now,
one who wants a change,
a change from that downhill slide,
where everything remained the same.
May God bless him,
watch over him,
and give him,
the strength to accomplish the things
that need to be done.


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A sequel to pain

With certain issues to deal with,
I can't help but be sincere.
The way I perceive and remember
those times when I was in pain.

On the height of my affliction,
I was like a man with no sense of direction;
I walked by, looked around and thought of someone
Hardly could I get what I was looking for.

Perhaps, it might take a while as I come to recall,
To go within and be plunged into the mainstream;
To hold on time and keep pace with reason
where a good perspective becomes a guiding mirror.

I'm convinced though that life must go on,
amid some discomforts and frustrations;
The goal towards reconciliation
makes me believe that Hope can conquer them all.

Leafing through the pages where I've been to
there's one, singularly marked with precaution.
It's on the edge with deep heights and cliffs,
at the crossroads lie the struggles involved.


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Looking to my future

Being mindful of my own roots as a Filipino,
with episodes of successes and failures,
with mirror images of my own culture,
show a sliver of commonality with others
as raised in accordance with Catholic religion.

Beauty in the heart remains a focal point
a criterion that captures a specific connection;
to the highest level – God with people of all nations,
an ongoing conversation between faith and culture.

But with the emerging trend in our civilization,
heroes for youth, sports figures or popular icons
are role models for them with a great deal of competition,
yet, opportunities to strive better and be achievers of honor.

Understanding the mystery of life through faith and trust
in God, whose source of love and compassion never ends;
A lodestar in my way, source of hope and spiritual joy.
King Solomon’s  teaching enables me to recall
that some of our greatest actions come only -
because we fall and this makes us grow,
connect with Him and face what life brings.

As we used to say in Philosophy:
«nemo dat quod non haber» 
indeed, a challenge that, for me, should be lived
along with enthusiasm and commitment to life.

The world in its movement greets every traveler,
with different salutations meant to inspire him
that in spite of a decadent age or conflicting moral answers,
God’s presence never fails to make us aligned to His own will.

It’s with an attitude of optimism that I hangs on to Him
because He is the way, the truth, the life, and everything,
His authorship and genuineness to any need in life’s quest;
He’s my great spiritual achievement, a future for my calling.


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In the Silence of the Night

In the silence of the night
The neighbors could hear
Someone putting up a fight
And shedding some tears
They had an idea of what was going on
But they turned out their lights
Even though they knew it was wrong
Night after Night
It was the same routine
The yelling would begin
Then the pain at 9:15
When the beating was done she would lay in bed
Lay under her covers crying
Praying to God for this all to end
In the morning she would leave for school
Trying to cover her bruises
And not wanting to break a house rule
Everyday, week after week
She came up with a new excuse
Hoping her teacher would not ask for the truth
Even though he knew it was abuse
She anxiously watched the clock
Hoping three never came
Hoping things would be different
But it was always the same
Daddy came home drunk
Mommy was high
Except this time her head hit a trunk
And she knew it was time for good-bye
She used to think it was because she was bad
That mommy would yell
And daddy would get mad
After she hit her head
An Angel came from the sky
It said there would be no more pain
And no more needing to lie
As she lay there bleeding
Blood pouring onto the floor
A huge smile came across her face
Because she knew God heard her prayers
And that she would be in a much better place


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Sonnetina-REKINDLING THAT MATERNAL MEMORY

The affectionate mother, whom I loved has long left
her earthly dwelling to flee
to a Paradise extrasensory peaceful;
and surrounded by angels,
she tenderly flashes an effulgent smile and looks upon  
me and whispers many prayers
for a son whose face is her total resemblance!
And in me her noble soul lives with a sweetness,
which has made me forgotten that there's death...
by rekindling that maternal memory! 

 

Before I go to sleep, I reflect on my day that has passed without dire...  
by staring at a portrait, which makes her facial expressions
seem so real like when she eloquently spoke, glimpsing into tomorrow;
I'm wishing for tears to fall, but none do...too numerous tears
have her child's eyes shed to empty themselves of their sorrow!
Why cry and induce more mourning...when glory has awarded her a halo?
She endured much, and said little, to strengthen me with her example,
and will harsh winters lash me with their furious winds, no fright...
no discouragement can overwhelm me and make me shiver and tremble;
violent storms extirpate trees, fears won't uproot what I extol!
 


Extraordinary was her motherly love: intense and insuperable, 
to build me up when my confidence was down and I refused to have fun; 
and if I felt miserable, she mollified my misery, grief and sadness,
to never let me lose my momentum, to miss out on a great, indelible moment!
Showing my mistrust intensified the tone of her vocal chords...
low esteem wasn't another kind of modesty, just a lost milestone!   
Secular and firm...and yet divine, was her faith emboldening me;
emerging in the form of a lovely rainbow to brigthen my obscurity!
I longed for affection, hoping it would have been long lived...as that love so tangible,
which still guides my footsteps to rekindle that maternal memory!


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Redemption

In a glowing, fearless and inspired articulation
of those fingers in the piano that provide brilliance;
It’s a piece of music, incisive with exceptional signs
so profound and rhapsodic in the entire performance.

I feel like being redeemed as it overwhelms me
with its power and dynamism to echo its meaning;
Those are signs and wonders that make me recall -
my own journey of sufferings and inner pains.

As intertwined in the soul of human affliction
Are sentiments and longings for one’s redemption;
They’re like labyrinthine inducements of persuasion,
That music in the heart is indeed a great consolation.

Classical pieces like those of Tchaikovsky, Sebelius,
Brahms, Beethoven, Chopin, Rachmaninov, et al;
soothe my emotion while getting into the picture,
with imagination and a sense of deeper connection.

It’s a triumph of peace and serenity from within,
As its power conquers me through the whole;
I can feel the heartstring of being attuned then
to the soul of music festooned with confrontation.

The alluring resources that music evokes from within,
are fitting occasions replete with the truth of redemption;
its expressions, movements, textures and other emotions,
reveal the sanctity of what it means to be whole again.


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Reliance on God

I need a space for silence
where I can commune with Him
God, my reason for everything
who calls me even in times of difficulties.

His ways may not be our ways
but his essence speaks the enormity
of humanness and divinity
across this world of frailty.

I guess I have to move on
amid some trials and afflictions;
it’s really a matter of faith conviction
that I have to hang on to His will.

With all the problems I meet each day,
I still stand up and face them with optimism
it’s really a great deal of faith that I’ve to keep going
in this world of struggles awash with denunciation.

I see how it works, along with temptations,
pride and obdurity to insist on my own
but with an attitude of humility and nothingness
makes me rely just on Him for the rest of my life.


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The Visions Blend

Sitting all alone in deep thought, I am a world away.
No Sun, no Stars, and no wind!
My mouth can not speak the words there are to say.
The visions blend carries me to where it never ends.
My God I am here and I demand to stay!
I am here, but gone to where I begin.
Nights and days have come and gone and are now decades away.
No life, no air, and no death!
My God I am alive and dead on this very day.
I am gone, but here with my journey’s quest.
The gift of life is mine as I catch my last breath.
My heart can not hold the words there are to say.
Looking deep into this world where I have come to stay,
No love, no hate, and no sin!
The visions blend carries me to where it all ends.
I am here, but gone to where I begin.
My eyes can see the words there are to say.
My God I am gone and I demand to stay.
Time and time my thoughts have traveled my days,
No time, no light, and no pretend!
The gift of life is mine all over once again.
My God I am dead but alive on this very day.
My ears can not hear the words there are to say.
I am gone, but here absorbing the visions blend.

®Registered: Ann Rich 1997


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Victory In The Distance

Victory in the distance,
it is waiting so quiet,
words spoken daily,
toward The Kingdom,
on High.
Sinners are weeping,
taking refugee today,
realizing Salvation,
is on the way.
Lives being changed,
by His Loving Heart,
little by little,
He heals every part.
Tomorrow may come,
then again it may not,
as the minutes move slowly,
repairing the rot.
Three crosses still remind us,
the price that was paid,
the one in the middle,
and His Blood He gave.
Into a tomb,
then covered by stones,
but these could not keep Him,
away from His Home.
Look toward Heaven,
let your heart rejoice,
and to His Honor,
make a joyful noise.


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Christmas Morn

It is almost here,
that glorious day,
when Christ lay sleeping,
in a manger far away.

Wise men traveled,
bringing gifts so fine,
for they knew this baby,
was intervention divine.

A gift from Heaven,
His Father had a plan,
the only way to eternity,
for every woman, and man.

The season is love,
for a child was born,
remember this,
come Christmas Morn.


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Earthbound sobriety

While crossing Verrazano Narrows Bridge
recurring mem’ries of New York recapture 
history and civilization of the two boroughs
provide me with deep interest and emphasis.

Brooklyn in its old Dutch for “broken land,”
and Staten Island named “Staaten Eylandt”
named in the early 1600s by Henry Hudson,
trailed off on a tangent through centuries.

A myth or perhaps a legend, the island thus far,
was like a quagmire of townships and disputes;
its meaning to immigrants’ culture and religion,
favored silence, security, peace, and integration.

The burden of too many choices based on clans,
growing businesses and stories of interactions;
new immigrants in droves through generations
like an orchestra combined with a sense of drama.

Reflections of their struggles to make ends meet,
reminded me of articulation through interpretation;
in sobriety of heeding of the composer’s intent,
such a musical piece made me suffer and sweat.

Oh, the pedal, rhythmic vitality and expression!
all these elements comprise what piano playing is,
the technique, in a special way, a benchmark item
indeed, a struggle to interiorize those conventions.

But as a human person with some limitations,
with my own history and capability in playing,
I see where I can be fit and freely express myself;
through movements in diverse missionary works.

As it says in French, “bon débarras, il est partí.” 
my life continues with a backlog of other issues,
a different world focused on service to the Lord;
with my own repertory – its beauty to humanity.

It’s true that my prayer for the church at large,
is also a bridge across the gulf of separation;
coming to this borough of Staten Island
a hodge-podge of concerns, covenanted within.

Now that relationship with God and people
brings me to nourish that faith and commitment;
with that long stretch of Verrazano Narrows Bridge,
a metaphor to my own journey as a missionary.


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Little Tag Along

 
This story is about a little dog called Tag Along.
   He loved and followed a little fat boy name of Edwin Armstrong.
The pair were always seen together where ever they went,
    He was the friend little Edwin needed, it was like he was heaven sent.
The kids at school always laughed at Edwin for being fat.
    But not little Tag Along for he’d have none of that.
When Edwin was in class he would patiently wait outside,
    Till Edwin came out then they played run and hide.
Little Tag Along would run ahead of Edwin in a game of tag.
    Then Edwin started noticing his pants would sag.
As months grew into years Edwin grew into a young man who was not fat.
    Because little Tag Along helped to rid little Edwin of that.
It was like little Tag Along knew ,
    What Edwin needed as he grew and grew.
When Edwin graduated the head of his class that once taunted and made fun of 
him.
    He stood there to give his speech so tall and thin, while old Tag Along sat at 
his feet so proper and prim.
He said once upon a time there lived a boy,
   Who had no friends till Tag Along came and brought such joy.
The friend one needs to show him what he needs to do,
    To teach that life is not just something you hurry through.
He said we need to look past our noses and into their hearts,
   For he said that is where to me life gets its start.
Old Tag along knew what I needed more than any of you.
   And he showed me the way to overcome, what I needed to do.
He said I truly would like to honor my friend Tag Along first,
   Why old Tag Along sat up and his little chest started swelling you’d think it 
might burst.
Well old Tag Along barked to the crowd ,
    He just barked and barked real loud, you could tell he was proud.
Well Edwin and Tag Along left that day, 
   He and little Tag Along just packed up and went away.
I’ve heard reports that Edwin has made it real big,
    And that old Tag Along goes along as he checks on his fleet of rigs.


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Drilling For Oil

I have been busy today,
digging in the yard,
looking for oil, I say.
Deeper, and deeper,
one mile, and counting,
wow, my head is ponding.
Everyone must do their part,
so here I am,
getting an early start.
I wonder how far,
this driller can go,
fifty bucks an hour,
I wish this thing
would blow.
My neighbors are looking,
oh, here they come,
nosey, nosey,
did you say, I'm dumb?

I feel silly tonight....


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Shift in mood

Life is a constant cycle of happiness, joy, and sorrow;
at times it’s suffused with exciting events and interactions,
there’s God-given grace and wisdom reflected on them,
it’s experienced and found like an insight from within.
It’s also a season for a number of changes that happen,
Either within or extra each exemplifies change so far;
with a crunch time for individuals to cope with life,
it’s an array of challenges that makes up the fabric –
in every single event that brings forth a message.

Where there’s joy, sadness follows suit;
where there are failures, success may await somewhere,
it’s like a wheel where it rolls over the road;
a reminder that, indeed, human beings are made for it.

When weeping has its moment to reveal the pain,
when happiness has its moment to unfold satisfaction;
their contributions to the manner of living provides –
how important these things that serve us so much.

Growing in faith in the midst of all these struggles,
enables one to remain strong, undaunted by fear;
in a world which at times so harsh or filled with wonder,
only God can make a difference through his own people.

With the scale of ups and downs and the emerging failures,
shifts in lifestyle, attitudes, moods, or human behaviors,
knowing in full the rich blessing and power beyond;
hope can be a harbinger of things that await somewhere.


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Give Them Life

Give them life,
another chance,
don't condemn,
try, and understand.
Addicts need help,
someone who cares,
don't put them away,
they need love, and prayers.
Prisons are for criminals,
the murderers, and such,
addiction needs rehab,
a place that can do much.
Many Judges,
in our courts today,
realize intervention,
saves.



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Mane Nobiscum

Somehow sadness makes me think
Of all those who’re sick and abandoned;
with other people around
whose health becomes
an edge over the rest.
A thing wealth, a great gift
that they can brag about.

Unfortunate as they may be,
Across the changing contours of this world.
But deep in their hearts,
God is with them.

He, who knows how they go through
with their sufferings and pains;
like a change of texture and of pace
their cries, oftentimes, glued to longing
that someday springtime begins
with a miracle of hope and healing.

Relationships in the course of living
Articulate the call and invitation –
‘Stay with us’ even for a moment.

Note:

Mane nobiscum.  It means in Latin, “Stay with us.”


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Dear Lord

While waiting for the time to leave for school
where I’ve been asked to hear confessions,
I can feel that God’s presence leads me,
makes me aware that he’s with me.

I would say it’s an inward gift,
that God gives to his people;
and in the silence of my heart,
I whisper ‘Lord, stay with me.’
especially at this time when I’ll be
your instrument, your alter Christus:
to forgive sins of others,
to bridge human and divine
to heal relationships
and to lift them up to you.

Allowing a space for you O Lord
to speak to me through the sacrament
certain realizations come to the fore
and these enable me to see beyond
that across life’s experiences,
I’m also wounded myself,
And this makes me a healer to them.


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Follow me

In our journey of relationship, God’s presence speaks;
whether in small or big events his message unfolds,
discipleship,  its meaning and encounter through faith –
reminds us to commit and be transformed with the Lord.

It’s an important call which demands obedience in return,
along with faith commitment and freedom to say yes to him;
truly, a Christian reflection, a worldview of life’s calling,
and a yearning to imitate what our Lord Jesus made for all.

We remember those events  when he called his four disciples 
while he was walking by the Sea of Galilee known for fishing
and Jesus said to them that he’d make them “fishers of men,” 
disciples  to be with him fulltime willing to learn and be one.

Literally, Jesus’ words of invitation to be part of his mission,
explain the profundity of what it means to be a real disciple;
yes, it may be easier to say ‘Yes, Lord’ but with a great deal:
of patience, sacrifice, and openness to different lifestyles.

Again, challenges abound as we head towards that road,
through movements and directions in diverse ways or situations;
discipleship gets its essence with its cost and implications,
that indeed we’ve individual role to play as Christ’s disciples.

How we think, feel and act in our own way to follow him,
makes us see beyond the surface of being human in this world;
yet the thing that matters with a weighty element of direction,
is to become his disciples so that we can in turn disciple them.


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A Big Beautiful Rainbow

There is a big, beautiful rainbow,
shining in my life,
you see my son,
has found Jesus Christ.
So many nights,
I prayed for him,
I even ask you,
to remember him.
So many of our family,
they just gave up,
trying to save him,
I guess they had enough.
Now he is different,
even his talk,
calm and sure,
now he walks the walk.
I had to tell you,
God listens to prayers,
He saved my son,
I just had to share.


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Get Ready, Get Set

Step into this dream called love,
where feeling of happiness,
are sealed with a hug.
Once so barren,
your soil unturned,
forgiveness now learned.
Share the message,
within your heart,
tomorrows new start.
Remember the hardships,
they have made you strong,
all the mistakes, all along.
Today is a new day,
the slate is clean,
many blessings to be seen.
Live your life,
share your heart,
get ready, get set, start.


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Next

First draft/ Epilogue to “All the secrets of a wudby poet”

Take the time to see
How a poet creates and plays
Tiz a little different from other books you may have read
Okay a lot different
I mean whoever heard of a poet telling anyone how the magic floes
ice up in midsummer or metaphors taste in early Spring rolls of joy?
Well that’s how it started. What this book does is explain in not so horribly boring 
detail
How and why the poem on the facing page was conceived written spoken 
changed edited
and almost finished.             Almost finished being the key that unlocks  and 
opens reader’s minds
Most of the time, not always there’s a double or hidden meaning  (a wink at 
Fate’s green eye)
So come on in and take a gander Let your feathers fly. Read the poem first. Then 
how it came to be
Then read it again. Does it flow? Is there a break? Why?
There’s barbs and hooks and sweet rewards for they who would be better poets
Ask any critic But have care. Some would suggest improvement to God if She 
happened by
To some poetry is feelings expressed so well the reader feels them
To others it’s a peaceful scene to share
For me it changes with the mood but underneath it all
I am doing my best to get us back to Eden
To leave this world a better place than when I lived here
And hopefully to nudge a couple more along  that loving road


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Filtering

The drudgery of chores keeps me busy,
unable to unwind even just for a day;
It’s usually a whirlwind of obligation,
to stay home and do household chores.

With my parents and grannies long gone,
I’m left to organize my schedule this time,
it’s a question of priority that ought to be done;
at least once a week or to do it twice a week.

Fate moves me quick into this kind of work,
but with a sight to filter other tasks at hand;
I see the spark of endless chores at my side
cleaning or washing done at the same time.

Of course, there’s a moment for relaxation,
right after the run-of-the-mill endeavor
which steps through the doors to leave,
and take a breather as part of my recreation..

Perhaps the so-called ‘adega’  may work
to share with some friends during meals;
It’s something that I’ve never done before
to taste the variety of wine served on the table.

I need to filter some remnants of temptation;
these are sometimes irresistible to deny
but like those who’re inclined to drink wine,
it’s no problem but just take it one at a time.


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Drawn from mainline observations

Described as a ‘nightmare scenario’
in Iraq and the Middle East;
the endless war – its mess
that afflicts people of all races.

More troops have been sent there
more personnel and other organizations
deal with their quest for peace and action
that shape the future for Iraqi people.

It’s like magnet in today’s newspapers,
where everyone gets the information;
either in television or other sources
of media networks and people’s discussions.

With emerging responses and allusions
to previous leaders in this nation;
like Franklin Roosevelt in history,
who saved this country during great Depression.

In his solitary and determination,
George Bush sees it with special attention;
his strategy, along with other options
proves his adamant decision.

Like a dynastic leader with great power
King Louis XV of French kingdom
struggled and fought many foreign wars,
he won but not successful in other invasions.

The eyes of the world remain focused on this place
where chaos, horror and mess create opposition
between Democrats and Republicans
de-funding of the war seems a solution.

Against culture and civilization,
the mark of death and destruction 
shows the collapse of human castle: as God’s co-creators
in sharing his love, peace, and reconciliation. 


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Happy Birthday Jesus

You were born on Christmas Day,
in a land so far away.

Your mother laid you in a manger,
that was made of hay.

The wise men came with gifts of love,
they knew you were special, sent from
above.

You died on a cross, to pay for our sins,
but one day soon, You will come back
here again.

Songs are still sung, about Your birth,
but the sad thing is, some still don't
know Your worth.

An Angel spread the news, to the shepards 
in the fields, telling them rejoice, and go tell
the people in the hills.

Christmas Day is Your birthday, a day to celebrate,
for those that believe, and those without Faith.




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Governor Sonny Perdue, God Bless You

 
Three cheers for Governor Sonny Perdue,
    Such a welcome sight these things you do.
Showing your faith is a thing quite rare,
    Leading your state in open prayer.
You my friend are an answer to many a prayer,
    Showing you trust God and you really care.
Georgia is facing such a devastating drought,
    Rivers and lakes are drying up across the south.
The whole country needs to join the governor in his plight,
    Strong in prayer and as brothers and sisters in Christ we need to unite.
You made my day Brother Sonny Perdue,
    And for what you did I’ll stand with you!


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I Hold No Fear

Tomorrow comes and oh God how it goes!
Do I care, why should I lend all of my spares? 
I’ll never know what tomorrow holds!
“Oh my”, how could I, what is it that I need to do?
Blessed by God, sure he loves me but what about you?
Why today and why tonight I really don’t care! 
I know that I love me no matter what my eyes can see!
Take it all but hold the very last thought that we share! 
My God, My God how I hope you all know what it is that you truly believe!
“Oh my”, capture and redeem my mind!
Complete my being that lives alive inside of me!
God you love me, these eyes have no doubt with that which they can see!
“God”, you know you have done all of this to me! 
Oh how you have loved these things that I can see!
Sheltered, protected, yet, condemned by that which I know you believe!
If I could, I think that I would, but oh God how I do stand here!
Come and get me with all of that, which I know you believe! 
Please God, just come take my all of me! 
I am still here my Lord and I hold no fear!
Tomorrow, hmm just another day for me to believe!
Oh well! Guess I’ll just have to see it through!
Ask me anything and I will tell you! 
I think we all know what it is that we should do!
Escaping the reality of what really should be, 
Oh God, I am so very here do you know what tomorrow will be? 
I’m still here my Lord and I am holding absolutely no fear!
Each morning the Sun rises to approach a brand new day. 
No doubt that I do love me!
Embraced with the thought that you have come just for me, 
I’m engulfed with this moment that I have finally achieved.
Oh my, I know that I could because I am coming to you. 
Where are you my Lord I just need to be so very near!
God you do love me! Oh how I knew that you always would! 
I’ve walked so many miles with you each and every single day, 
And I am still right here my Lord and I hold no fear!

© COPYRIGHT: 1997  ANN RICH


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Black Rose

I am hanging on to this rose
In where I am hoping you will come
My hope for our love is high
Couldn't imagined what we had become

You surrounded me with your smiles
My fantasy built up with you
Colours of red only in my sight
And saw you always dress in blue

Love was in my mind
When I realised we had our first kiss
A way to figure out
That love was not actually a risk

I finally found her towards the end
Where no man could survived that far
My Hope was to build a new beginning
And to be as what we are

I know our love was strong
It was never wrong
I know this is what you want
Where we truly belong

When that one day comes
The sky turned dead black
Filled my world with emptiness
She would not go back

She left me but a note
A note that did not change my world
But it was a note
That change my heart

I could not forget about her
Her face, mind and soul was in me
I wish I could get out
To a day when I could be free

I know she still had my rose
I know she still had my heart
Our lives could not move on
With us staying apart

I wonder in my own fantasy
Where love did not exist in there
I couldn't erased these memories
These haunted memories I couldn't bear!

From here till the present
Where her figure started to fade
I wonder if the rose still had the same colour
That rose which I Believe will no longer be red


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Through These Eyes

Through this journey,
I call my life,
many a beauty,
has been seen,
through these eyes.
My course not chartered,
during my younger years,
which led me to heartache,
and many a tear.
Loved ones have passed,
but sweet memories remain,
through this sorrow,
much wisdom I gained.
Trying to recall,
all the paths I've been,
the ink would empty,
from my many pens.
All this, and more,
make me who I am,
and I am bleesed,
To  still be around.


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God Planted A Seed

Hidden in the pages, 
of this once read book,
lies a story of happiness,
somehow, overlooked.
Seldom read,
tucked neatly away,
holds tales of dreams,
of much younger days.
A masterpiece waiting,
high on a shelf,
word after word,
time has kept.
Years have come,
then fade away,
leaving their mark,
where hope once lay.
Dusty from neglect,
but a treasure indeed,
within these pages,
God planted a seed.


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Can You Hear Me Up There Today?

can you hear me
up there today
away in eternity
i hope you are proud of me
so many years between us now
i can't remember 
the sound of your voice
or whatever you said
without your photoraph
your image is misty
suddenly our time together 
disappeared unannounced
it came to an end

sometimes i think about
why it had to
turn out this way
you up there
me down here
your departed soul
left my childhood shattered
i kept looking for you everywhere
some people i met
reminded me of you
their unspoken manner 
made me feel safe
oh how i missed you

other times i wondered
what life would be like
id you were here by my side
without the nearness of you
i stumbled and fell
searching for the missing pieces
to recitify my mistakes
i yearned for a chance
to do what mothers and daughters do
as my children grew
i counted the moments lost
precious time of love
that only grandmothers could fill

now on in years
wrapped in the arms  of wisdom
i remiknese upon my life
discerning all the numerous  tears
with a peaceful contenance
i can finally comprehend
that within all my darkest hours
the echo of your love from above
came in loud and clear
your voice was  my intuition
"do not stray my dear i am here"
can you he