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Prose Poetry Uplifting Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Uplifting

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

Language Barrier

I couldn’t understand the language she spoke,

at least not all of it,

but the emotion pouring past her lips, 

the tears in her eyes, her clenched and shaking fists

enunciated more clearly,

than any piece of English Poetry I had ever read,

and grabbed me, held me still.

                   …In that moment, her soul was in my arms.

In that finite, tender breath of our lives,

she was my mother, my best friend…

but I could not console her. 

I didn’t have the words;

and my heart sank into the 

concrete between us,

wet with the pain of God’s rain

and her tears. 

                  …Were my tears

So, I simply opened my palms

toward her crouched form and 

spoke the only words I could 

fathom, that would be accepted

by a stranger on a dangerous street. 

"I am sorry, It will be okay. God will bless you."

I knew she did not understand…

"Lo siento" 

                  “que va a estar bien”    

                            “Dios te bendecira’ “ 

the words were as messy as the overturned

duffle bag at her feet…and fumbled, slowly

from my lips, as my knees hit the street.

Two strangers, cried in the rain,

knowing nothing of each other’s suffering,

and yet we shared the weight,

together, for those few moments;

the barrier of language was broken.

Love spoke for us.  

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.

…Love transcends any language

               


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Child's Peace

Tell me of your peace. 
Let it tell your story now
Of trials and tribulations, a tale not of dreams
Weary from a journey of self-discovery
My child, know the comfort in your peace
You feel hope in this familiar place 
As it gently sloughs the pain away 
Tell me of your peace 
In which we all are blessed and free
Search throughout your soul sweet child
Peer not within your cluttered mind 
Look out to rest your tired eyes but do not let them see
Solace found strewn upon daily thoughts is fleeting at it's best
Lasting merely moments, in untouched souls a true peace 
Oh yes! You'll know when you arrive but only you will know 
The world will melt away as a candle left under the blazing sun
Away away, until you feel home again, an unguided familiar scene
An innocence once lost is restored, all sins suddenly forgiven
Soaking this in with relucant ease, 
Breathe it deep with a slow release
Take it in, delight in details you discover
Be calm here child, please have no fear, I am here 
You are safe in this place of yours, no hurt no tears
We share not the same peace, no no
Unique to each of us, yet stranger to none
Trust in more than what you see, know beauty is within reach
We share this unspoken bond of freedom from ourselves
Please young one, listen closer now 
I say, leave it all behind you love, it will only weigh you down
Cleanse yourself of careless words and careful lies 
I know you're weary, let go of all you carry
Don't be afraid, here you are burden free 
Trust in you, blessed one, it's easier than you believe
Sweet child, tell me now if you see
Peace resting deep within 
Waiting for you
For you to let it be


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Fallen Prince has Risen - Michael

Burning so bright
With new found life
Released from his ball and chain
Out of the dark
And into the light
Flying… on wings of freedom again.

As he writes his life
His soul ignites
In flames of wisdom and sight
Brilliantly claiming 
His God given right
As his truth kills the evil ‘Black Knight’.




Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Book of Soul for The Heartwarmer

One individual called "she" stepped into the sheets of a life story
Sheets that used to be occupied
She walked back and stopped at a chapter which tell the story of an obsolete chamber
A space which stands for behalf of the memory and wounds

A diorama played by shadow
A story with no beginning nor end
They've been there with decent backgrounds and decent light spectrum but called gray
The view was frozen, the chatter was muted, and that feels fell into the melancholy

Those with the outstretched hands which too high to be reached
Those with the self existence but too blind to be seen 
They abandoned as a figure of reserves without knowing the essence of a solace

And that individual creature went on her way back to the labyrinth of time

This time someone seized by the story of a root baste
Those roots were heart in shape and the hue carved a warmth, but once howled a bitterness
This chapter tells the story of a lush tree with the fruit of love
Fruits that contain the complexity of love, passion and a place to berth

And the fruit of love revealed its story to someone

Those who hide behind their false mannerism had carved their name on her shoulder
Those who have offered their hearts and bent on their knees 
Those who play fire in a lust, fell into a seek
But the love that she wants still unable to cover the part of this story

From the fruit of love to the sheet's of light

This chapter tells the story of an old house with extensive bed of flowers
This house represented the aesthetics, peace and harmony
A house which brings relief, spaciousness and joy
In that house she knelt, release all her mess
To the house the journey was anchored

In every sketches that have been through
None could live without the presence of others too

Obsolete chamber, lush love tree, beautiful bed flowered old house
Those who were involved in each story of the bulkhead of life
Those who were crawling along and came from different angles of infinity
Those who were instantly filled the pieces of shoot and became the shoot

They are the perfect gift for the imperfect souls
Not as a complement nor as a reserves
Yet as the major part of the heartwarming life story


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Show me the way Home (He's coming back) pt.1

      My Bros.' & Sister's the [Book] tell us that we are made in the image of God, made
in the likeness of him.  So why is the World suffering much to much idiosyncricie's whe-
ther you're fat or slim ?  Do you know!! Do Ya!!...  long and many year's ago, Noah
is assign an important task, that being! to build a ship (the Ark) for the purpose that
(GOD) seen the supplication of his creation.  He is sadden that sin enter into evil thought's
of mankind, and the collaboration of their choices brings no satisfaction to the reasonable
reason for Noah being choosen to finished the Ark {no satisfaction}....  My guess is
that Noah prayer's was like, "Show Me the Way Home", Lord, thou reason that the rain 
shall come, makes a consorted effort to save a generation, I am so along.  "Show me the 
way Home".  This-thiss generation ignore's the preaching for a 120-years, now water is
around their necks and the door is (slam!!) shut.  "Slam-Shut".  My Brothers ' Sister's
do you wonder why the likeness is impossible to live up too.  We choose to live to do
our own thing - our own way.  That's O'K from a selfish standpoint.  But for a spiritual
analyzationable lovepoint, sometimes the seperation is somewhat confrontationable.
     So-so my brother, the long way home is a fight that the "Anti-Christ commit to the 
principalitie's warfare against the conscience of your mind and you become blind and
you heed to the warning and now he see's (The Anti-Christ) that you are not strong:
(I'm so all along) Now my sisters that implie's to you also, your fight is a battle the ene-
my approaches from your blindside, and if you're not carefull, "you will believe in all the 
lie's.  (Be Strong)  
"Show Me the Way Home", LORD-show me.  Me and the tall and short one's and the cre-
ated of all children's whether large or small.  When we have fought against the file's of
the enemy, and we all are along.  Before the gap get wider (and ?)  "Show Me the
Way Home".

P.S....This Poem is the first of a two-part initative in God's awsume plan to regenerate a
society of any culture, that we as his children must ask him to "Show me the way Home".


Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Gift To You

My gift to you your heart can hold
wouldn't be made of precious diamonds, 
nor formed in the purest gold.  

The gift that I'd present to you,  
would be safe in everyway; 
For friendship is the kind of gift 
no one can take away. 
 
I'll share your happy moments, 
 help you bear your deepest pain  
I'll be here when you stumble, 
 only to pick you up again.  

Doing everything I can to make your dreams come true  
I'll always wish God's best for you  
Your a true blessing 
My best friend  
That is why this gift I present to you.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Bell's Blues (Conclusion)

     Today, I had a chance to ask his widow, Laurie, about this story.  She 
confirmed that it did happen, and he came home from work that day excited, and 
told her and their 3 daughters about the event.
     And sure enough, shortly thereafter, the song became a hit on the radio, and 
M.T.V., in those ancient days when they actually played music.
     This news brightened my day considerably, and I'm happy to share it with you; 
so when you next hear that song, remember my good buddy, Mark Trotiner, the 
uncredited genius behind it.
                                          tom bell


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Bell's Blues

Staring, vapor locked, at my Hammond B-3 console organ, which dominates my 
kitchen.  Surely a symbol of my madness.  I can't help, but think, if the keys were 
the days of my life, and the black ones represented the bad days, are there 
enough black keys??  Fighting petulance, self-pity...losing...
     Wondering if I can stand another minute alone.  Atop my organ, music books, 
and the complete works of Edgar Allan Poe, another mad poet.
     Plagued by physical agonies that merely complete a perfect circle of anguish 
and distress.  Even to worrying of misspelling a word again.  Pure lunacy.
     Remembrance of my 1863 death at Missionary Ridge, something I became 
aware of as a young child before I'd ever heard of reincarnation.  Or just an early 
sign of the madness to come??
     I am lost in a befouling miasma of deep despair.  My life's hopes down to 2 
desires;  one last music band, and taking my son to Disneyworld.  Money is 
meaningless to me.
     I am well aware that death is as natural as life.  And I would venture to guess 
that the loss of my father, my young cousin Billy, my dear friend Mark Trotiner, and 
too many others, are "Business As Usual" in this universe.  But not for me.
     Being terminally ill myself is something I have long since come to terms with.  
And what a reunion it will be!!  But I must continue to go on surviving as though I 
cherish this long and barren life.
     My writing, especially my poetry, my poet friends, my music, my musician 
friends, and a few relatives and others; these are the meds that work for me; not 
the 30 or so pills I must deal with everyday.  So thank you all.
And now an addendum, one which brightened my day:
     Mark Trotiner long maintained that he gave Mark Knoffler (Dire Straights) the 
idea for his hit song "Money For Nothing", when Mark Knoffler came into the 
appliance chain store he worked in way back then, where he bought, and drove 
off with several T.V.s, singing the prototype words he'd gotten from Mark Trotiner.  
Over the years, I tested him repeatedly, looking for the tale-tell deviation in the 
story one finds in a false tale.  He never faltered, he never failed.
    Continued.....


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Shape of Our Kindled Past

You promised me anticipation
Of a fantasy future upon introduction
Happily ever after, you offered
But don't ask questions until info conferred.

Tentative and with inward questions afire
But with soft love in my heart for what I admire
I turn aside others' attacks and doubts
Until I can find out what you're about.

Slowly, you begin to unravel as I share
Myself, my heart, my sensitivities I bare
Wrapped up in you and your story
Though the tales are scary, I'm not wary.

Over time, I see the warning signs 
And often times would run and hide
Knowing what I see cannot succumb
To what you had promised our life to become.

Flipping back and forth, as fear abounds
Like I'd come face to face with bloodsucking hounds
I retreat and attack and cry to myself
Knowing without you my life will be put on a shelf.

So, I learn that my lesson to be learned
Is to face the pain that my actions have earned
Not to bring on needless sorrow or strife
Because for you it only cuts like a knife.

Learning to love another beside me
Has been the elusive mystery
That I've never been brought to
Until sensitivity showed blossoming in you.

Many months of sharing laughter 
And lifting each others' spirits after
Pain is inflicted on one or another
Which our strength we've developed endures together.

Being apart now hurts sometimes
But always now I realize
That our hearts are one as one can be
Reaching through the distance happily.

For when I see you, I know
You will always continue to grow
As long as you are shown love
And remain open to gifts from above.

Never let your feet get stuck
Where negativity is all amuck
For you are meant to blossom full
A rose that the sun does upwardly pull.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Will Carry Your Burden

Unnecessary anguish that keeps you withdrawn heartache and heartbreak 
continues to weight heavy for your sake you come undone and in an instant your 
gone excuses are enough to justify when times get rough. So complicated and 
jaded misunderstood swept away unexplained limbo in eternities irrevocable 
flame, your not satisfied hollow reinsurance shows when you cry your personal 
prison grows accustom to screams of loathing. My obsession to surround your 
sorrow with calm and paint a prefect picture of stimulated reason to ease your 
instability, breathe with me rest your frustration and regret break this darkness 
and confess precious time will wait while your captivated in change I will carry 
your burden.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Crying eyes

Could a sadder face there be?

Oh Crying eyes,

melancholy.

Please, don't drip
those salty drops.

So many kisses I'd give to stop!

I am yours
you are mine
we will get threw in little time.

For what is life?
A little race?
We set the gaols
we make the pace.

So with me run.
We will get threw.

You help me, I'll help you

Sure and keen
eye's on the mark

Let's give this course 
a little spark.

Slow to see a river glide
forest green, country side.

Drink in scent of hewy blooms,
pause to touch in cedar rooms

Give this chase a pinch of spice
A season spent to melt the ice,

that grips us when,
we do fear,
of wasted steps, 
passing years.










Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Day the Doctor Told Me

On the day
When the doctor told me 
My whole heart crushed 
Melting like snow in summertime
Leaving me to wonder 
Was this moment 
My realty 
A fantasy 
Cause even though I don’t go to church 
Every Sunday 
I knew God wouldn’t plague me 
With a curse such as this 
I was too young to die 
Carry an illness which could 
Define me 
Would I make it 
Is there a cure 
Cause the way he was telling me 
My diagnosis and deterioration 
I wasn’t so sure 
So instead of making this a life sentence 
My death penalty 
I chose to live another day 
Not allowing this moment to end my dignity
I knew my life wasn’t destined to end this way 

The day the doctor told me 
I was a victim to Cancer
I gave the message to God 
Allowing him to solve the problem
Provide the answer
Only he could to clear my vision 
Cause at this time
Everything was a blur
I couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop 
I knew he wasn’t done with me yet
I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel 
Take a seat, swivel away
Let my coffin bow down a whole 6 feet

The day the doctor told me 
Not only did I take heed to what he said
I believed in what wasn’t note
Understanding I had a chance 
It wouldn’t be circumstances
Used to close the book to my story 
But the reason to live and be loved 
To achieve all I ever dreamed of 

The day the doctor told me 
I had Cancer 
I simply replied, “No, I do not” 
I have life 
A life not complete, nor finished 
And after 7 years of living 
I am wiser, smarter, healthier and determined 
Not to let this Cancer make me a victim 
But claim my place in David’s army
Nothing will happen to he who believes
And guess what
I’m a Survivor, I’m Here, and until My God is ready
I am not going anywhere!!!!!


 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Patience

PATIENCE

We hear that patience is a virtue 
Is this true, or simply virtual reality 
When leaders are teaching our youth; 
do as I say, not as I do 
Regression to a version of the American 
truth

Impatience is becoming intolerance 
But to be patient is viewed as ignorance 
In a blind world conforming to violence 
Very few see need for benevolence

Many view crime as way of life 
Government fuels fires, causing strife 
Committing true crime with their lack of 
pride 
Our country torn by those who lied

Promoting bigotry and distaste for the 
unknown
 But these days color and homosexuality 
are lactose free 
Intolerant of equality, it’s a problem, 
clearly 
Love is love, embrace the hate 
Hold it tightly until it sees the light

Peace pushed just beyond our reach 
We realize that “hope and change” was 
just a speech 
Wars raging through the land we call 
home 
In God we trust, not this powerful regime

Speak out now with virtuous impatience 
Change is change no matter how small 
the feat
Restore hope with unfaltering acceptance 
and grace 
Serve what you stand for, no time left to 
waste


Details | Prose Poetry | |

You Race Though My Veins

you race though my veins
like a manic fire truck
my eyes smodering from the engine
of your torrid passion
fire hoses squirting out my skin
let me in sweet darlin'
fling the ladder from your pounding heart
climb into my vacant mind
strip me naked and fling me
into your bubbling inferno
your liquid lava seething
every sweet cell breathing me in
as I slowly rise,
and dive into your
silky undulations 
microscopic penetrations
wrap yourself around me
and catapult me deep 
into your long forgotten sleep
let me in sweet darlin'
envelop me completely
my senses scintillating
corpuscles palpitating
drown me with your magic potion
breathe me like a dragon
soak me with your moist emotion
and lift my heart
high
into the tranquil eye 
of your whirling swirling hurricane
please
let me in sweet darlin'


http://lovestruehome.com/


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Liquid azure sky

In a dream, I walked naked through a shimmering valley, high in the sacred mountains of a
distant world. The air was warm and moist; the ice I trod upon sparkled like precious
jewels. As I neared the precipice, I became intoxicated with joy. Suspended high above me
in a liquid azure sky, three golden suns drenched my perfect body with benevolent rays of
pure liquid love. I am the sun, the prism, and the rainbow. I am soul, child of God,
resplendent, perfect and free.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

CHANGED MY Underwear,------- and My Name

I
change my name 
like 
underwear...
fairly often, I suppose

I 
change my clothes 
like 
area codes
and Imma' damn gypsy, ya' see

I 
keep it fresh ta' death
nada
speck of blood
or 
ketchup on my attire

I 
got more rhymes 
than I got grey hairs
and 
that's an effing lot
because i got my share

I 
digg a 
hot-fire piece of passionate verse
those are 
indeed 
rare to find

YET...
if  only poets would 
unleash the fury 
instead of 
holding back
what's really 
on their mind...

I must say...
the library, 
the internet, 
the etc. etc...
would be a less stinky place...
AND, maybe 
I'd keep my name, and sever ties with 
underwear's elastic,
and just go 
APE-Spit Spastic!~


Details | Prose Poetry | |

YOU ARE THE ONE

                     Be the best you ,you can be...even if you have stereotypical strikes against you. Use the back door, dressed in khaki not Gucci, armed with knowledge and the courage to know that you be the best ,at whatever you do. And let it be proved, no one can perfect on being you. Make sure what ever you do ,you do so well that once you are gone. you'll still be remembered;   Remembered for the improvements,and not destruction. King wanted not to be martyred, as he wanted to prove:  As I have done you can also do:There's no difference between you and I; So do as I have done and even more he would say, prepare your self with education and the knowledge thereof.

. Stand on passion and be guided by LOVE. Passion and self determination is the lamp at our feet. Even if you cannot afford a college degree, Grab a book from the library and read, be you self taught or guided by ancestors voices. Its all in a book, the ancestors still care.  The way has been paved and the motivation is there. Some made it through on wisdom and prayer. He did not die for us to praise him, he wanted to be an example and his example was ample; To show that just an ordinary man...could leave a legacy and a dream. That all men are created equal ..SO do even more than I have done he would say Because he has already opened up doors and paved the way..  Let us not run backwards ,forward we tread. His dream is alive and his memory not dead. Stop looking for A leader and become one instead,by his courageous spirit, let us each be led...Billions are looking around for a King, put on your gloves and get in the ring.You are chosen by the mighty....Yes you are the one...each of you have a Job to do. Be the best you,you can be. And lets get this done.!                         YOU ARE THE ONE!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Do You Want to Hear My Voice for Real

Hey Everyone!!!! 

I know you don't all check out the blogs, so I have to give the information 
here:

Great news! Drake's show, Stand as One, is back this Sunday! Guess 
what???? I'm going to be his guest!  YEAH!

I've really really missed this show. If you want to hear me read a few of my 
poems, if you want to read a few of yours, and if you want to hear Drake's 
AWESOME radio voice...and a few of HIS poems, CALL IN! Here is the info:

It goes down THIS SUNDAY, August 3...8am PST / 11am EST / 4pm London 
time. You can listen to us here: 

http://www.blogtalkradio.com/standas1/2014/08/03/stand-as-1-returns-
wspecial-guest-eileen-ghali-from-lebanon

To call in: 1-646-716-4762
Or call through Skype and it's free. :) 

I'm so so excited about this show! Let's DO THIS!!! If you have a preference 
of what you want me to read...Comment on this blog! Call in! Waiting to light 
up your day!

Hugs,

Eileen

PS...I'm sorry I haven't been visiting or replying to posts....My laptop is dying 
and keeps switching off. I'm here in the office between classes and decided to 
get this message out. I also have a blog about it. Had to borrow my 
daughter's laptop to post that. Hugs, everyone. Make sure you listen or call in.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

RISING WITH THE GLORY OF THE SUN

Rising with the glory of the sun,
But never to go down with it,
I'll fly higher and higher,
Side by side with eagles among the clouds,
I'll tarry until the day is done,
I'll soar waiting patiently to reign,
With the moon among the stars all through the night,
And eager to rise and shine with the sun again.

(c) 2010


Details | Prose Poetry | |

WOMAN

Day by day we pray to stay alive, ladies, the face of this world is slowly changing, no longer do we need to hold our heads in disgrace, and it’s about time we take our place. No longer let us be connived, nor let us forget the silent cries in trees that our sista’s souls are still hangin’, see the true in others denies rather waistin’ yourself complaining. Nor keep us from strength to stand by man, strength to leave if struck by hand, no more bruises upon our face for we also help to make this race. No more scars upon our souls for only marked with beauty moles and let our stories be fortold for we are women who behold, a key to inspiration and moral pride, coming out of our hide, Gods rules are to which one should only apply, but most chose pain to keep inside, left alone and died. Your elimination of God’s creation, we are but faith to this nation. Men of ignorance we are sick of belligerence, cuz we prove intelligence, cuz where there’s no woman there is no man strong and on this land we belong as distinct and separate persons walk along. Before your ignorance get the respect that you so vainly seek, practice what you claim til' all things you do or speak shall in reality be the same, nor let us be so eased to blame and give us our well earned past due fame, all musical and sorrowful stories contained. My people, make me proud to know your name and I’ll return the favour by doing the same.
For all men whom think us fast, remember the good ones always finish last, we women are still raped future and past so personally you can kiss my ... In us your babies wombs all your life fluids we consume, to mothers growing up too soon, to those mommas babies and daddy’s maybes.....REMEMBER, when your round to actin' shady, we are the ladies of this land, women with pride we stand, I am a WOMAN and for equal respect, I would do it again!!!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Grandad's Missing

There's a void, now
Where once a steadfast heart beat time
The soul in perfect harmony with life's uncertain pulse
With those who clambered eagerly in solace or in joy
To scale that mighty pinnacle
The Rock, within the bosom of the family

There's a void, now
But marvel at the structure, the firmness of the ground beneath
The strata richly layered with wisdom of generations past
A fault free seam constructing firm foundations
Binding those within the bosom of the family

There's a void, now
A hollow cavern 
echoing the anger and the pain
Trust time; it has no fear of finite elements
The source of unremitting pain
Within the bosom of the family

There's a void, now
So fill the emptiness and catalogue the memories
Harvesting the richness of their meaning
The fullness of the seed sown long ago
To bloom forever within the bosom of the family


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Bird in Flight

Sitting there late last night! 
I took everything in with my deepest breath about me.
I could quiver feeling the warmth sinking slowly in, 
I was covered over distances which I could now see.
I had left myself. 
I was gone again.
I was above and beyond the clouds,  
Soaring deeply with every one of my though,
Higher and higher I rose, 
Reaching loftiness’ I have never once felt. 
I was a bird in flight! 
Stunning with privilege I had brought.
Feeling myself from deep within!
Standing there that night, 
The radiance beamed all around me so I took this in.
And lo and behold, there I went again.
I could feel myself while locked deep with my thoughts.
I was absorbed inside by everything surrounding me.
I felt the depth that my eyes could never ever once see.
Loosing all truth of myself, every sensation my soul had caught.
Further and further I rose, reaching capacities I had never felt.
I’m a feather in the air, 
Gathering sensations inside of myself.
I lay there that night, mind, body, and soul with me.
I was calm with the breeze, 
Inside of myself,
Feeling myself!
And once again I was a bird in flight soaring so high and much too free.
I was locked sound with my deepest thoughts.
More and more I rose and impact for impact I felt.
Feathers of a bird in flight and one of me I have surely got.
Ever since that night, many, many things have come to me.
One by one, gathered by the sensations carried all over me.
Touching inside of myself, again, again, and again!
Higher and higher I climb to reach the very tipsy top.
Gathering it all, I am more of me when more of me can be felt.
I am the breeze in the air touching the many feathers these birds have brought.
Many feathers just from sitting here, but each the soar of the wind has surely caught.
I’m a bird in flight gathering all that is real or not and all that is captured in of my-self.
I am surely the feather that fell from the very top, 
Because I am now what then I surely was not!
I am simply that feather in the air falling loose and free inside of myself.

®Registered: 1997 Ann Rich


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Who i am

Who i am

Gazing at the mirror observing what I see,
all might not be perfect, but it all belongs to me.
In the eyes of the mirror, a woman beckoned me,
when I looked at her from head to toe, I just love what I see.
 There might have been a part of me, that to me was never known,
 i would have search to find it, if I had only known. 
This love for myself that was embedded inside confused an approaching frown
 and the moment I spent to discover myself, my world Turned upside-down.


I was afraid of people saying, "Who does she think she is?"
 Now i have the courage to stand and say "this is who i am".
 Never will i follow the majority of living a life of constant duplicity,
 as a successful rebellion, take me as I am, or watch me walk away.
 What makes me, me is my originality, with lots of sincerity
 and I cherish this freedom which lies in being me.

The eyes of the society might not project its light on me,
but never will this bring me down or makes me think less of me.
 No external source will fulfill my void, within me i find my eternal joy.
 Known life's is too short to be self- obsessed but when my eyes sent me a rainbow
 filled with gentle colors that project confident within me, 
my world seems brighter each time i opened up the window of my face. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lost into a deep black hole

I was trapped
and bemused
feeling sad
and confused
a subatomic particle
lost into a deep black hole
and suddenly
you stuck in your magic telescope
and I opened up
like a flower
I shot out like a periscope
a mystical kaleidoscope
like a solar flare 
without a care
my heart exploded into a supernova
and then, 
I woke up in your constellation
a phantasmagorical revelation
so ecstatic
and divine
orgasmic 
and sublime
I'm staying here forever, 
until the end of time.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

About INDIA

Americans say that India is the largest democratic country .

Asians say that India is the country of spiritualism .

Australians say that India is the country of huge crowd . 

Africans say that India is the country of great M . K . Gandhi .

Europeans say that India is the country of philosophy . 

Politicians say that India is our strategic partner .

Economists say that India is one of the best place for investment .

Communists say that India is the perfect soil for communism . 

Capitalists say that India is the market of products .

Historians say that India is the center of history .

Poets say that India is the country of Rabindranath Tagore and lovers

Everybody says many many sentences about India !


Although soul of India says to her people
"You are citizens of India but residents in the world .
And the World is your original mother land ." 

SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA


Details | Prose Poetry | |

An End to Aloneness

In my life I often feel I am alone; alone in my thoughts, alone in my musings, alone in my day-to-day movements and unsatisfying activities. I move like a ghost through hallways and down sidewalks, unnoticed and, at times, gratefully so. 
I do not wish to be eternally alone. I long for togetherness. But despite this desire for a real connection, I find myself regularly retreating from that temperamental beast that is human interaction. 

“Come on now, sweetheart. Don’t lower your head. Don’t look away. Look up! Smile at someone! No! Don’t go back into your bedroom. Don’t lock the door! Why are you doing this?” my brain will plea. 

I can’t help myself. Aloneness is comfortable. In being alone, I don’t have to worry about anyone but myself. I don’t have to please anyone else. I can think anything I want, wear anything I want, listen to anything I want, and laugh at anything I want. 

And still there remains that nagging desire to be loved and wanted and needed by somebody. I do not know the feeling of being truly desired. I do not know what it is like for someone to crave my company, my smile, my kiss, or my touch. 

                                                                              But I would like to…

I cannot make someone love me or like me or want me in some primal way. It may hurt, but I cannot make that handsome boy want to hold my hand or brush my hair back behind my ear. I can only struggle on. I can only work within myself. I can only try every God damn day to hold my head up, keep my eyes fixed ahead, a give the world the best smile I have. I and I alone can bring myself out of the safety of my bedroom and into the bright world that lies beyond that locked door. 
	
I often find myself alone with nothing more than my thoughts and the ever-strong glow of a computer screen. But no longer will aloneness be the constant in my life. It is true that never having known the caress of a man’s hand on my thigh doesn't make me any less of a woman, but I fear that if I stay confined within myself much longer I will begin to become less of a human. A flower cannot grow if it retracts its leaves and petals every time it feels the warmth of the sun or the kiss of a gentle spring rain.  
	
And I want to grow. I want to grow so tall and blossom so big and beautifully that every place on earth is touched by my shadow at some point in the day. And I will grow. I will push myself and share myself with the world, and finally
							                                 finally
								                                   finally
know the closeness and comfort of love and honest, unabashed companionship.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Pleasure in Possibilities


Writing my prose,
unmeasured.
Sometimes I try poesy,
another pleasure.
Untrained. Unskilled.
But, what a joy!
to freedom,
my thoughts I find.
And so, as day by weeks
would turn into a lifetime, could be
the possibilities concocted by gods
may be.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Shall Wait For You My Beloved

I shall wait for you to come my beloved
For you are my white star of twilight
The moon in the sky’s far end

I shall rise up with thee
Lie down with thee
For in my dreams thou art always with me

Oh Great Spirit
When our time has come
Join us together as one in the wilderness of your sacred home
When you look upon us give us your peace and refreshing sleep

For you and I my beloved, are two halves joined together
Each others distant shore
The left and right wings of the bird
Two halves of a seashell

We are apart, yet connected by a greater love
I shall wait for you my love 

The sun and moon bless the union of our spirits
Designed by our Creator for life’s endless journey
Joined like a tree to earth, a cloud in the sky
You are a part of me, as I am of you
Bonded by the Great White Spirit

You are my love, my heart’s best  friend
Our love will never cease, never end
I know it is thou who moves within my heart
Now and forever my beloved - I shall wait for you to come
Ayor’ Anosh’ ni’ my love
_______________________________________________________________________

"Ayor’ Anosh’ ni’ means I love you in Navajo"


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Master Carpenters tree

The impressive mighty trees
Are birthed from such small seed
Drawing resilience from the sun
And earth’s fertile garden bed

Trees wooden trunk has shaped 
And sustained for centuries many in varied ways 
Some over and upon oceans wide
Where waves stroke shapely hulls 
And lull to sleep the hapless venturer 
Trusting in woods durable strength and buoyancy

And from such crafted boughs 
And whispered sounds 
Her meekness and strength is seen and heard 
Like the creaks of grandma’s rocking chair
Where the hapless wanderer was first rocked to sleep

Trees have cradled and rocked in their arms 
High and low of this world
The greatest of these was in a lowly manger 
In an animals crib 
But for this one tree its destiny was marked 
Chosen before time

For on this tree’s wooden shoulders 
It bore God’s greatest gift–
A Holy Child born - Like it- 
For one purpose only – 
To become accursed - on its wooden cross 
To bear the sins of All 
The Holy Son then rose - triumphantly from earth’s fertile soil

Into His Father’s arms


© Brenda V Northeast 11th   March   2012
 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Slowly fear, and sweet

Dear God,

You've probably heard this prayer
a thousand times over, and yet
I feel like I need to say it everyday
even if it's just for me

each day I realize how scary 
this world really is
and even more how frightening 
it is inside myself 

if only it were so easy to let go
as if there is something 
I want to keep inside
like if I truly to let go
I'd lose something

even though my mind is a war zone
but there is just 
a little something that 
hangs onto the notion of You

help me to love people
outside of myself
please guide me to walk,
slowly fear, and sweet


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sacred Mother Earth- Colors Of Nature

Oh Great Woman of all Nature
  Mother of our Divinely blessed, sacred Earth
Your beauty has kissed my lips
  with the splendor of your clear, sapphire skies
 

The golden, moon bathed Sands
  that are gently caressed
 by your crystal blue clear flowing rivers
Your gentle rain that ascends from the Heavens above
  to delicately soothe and blend
with tears that flow from the broken hearted
 

Your moist, emerald green hills 
 filled with enchanting, lovely flowers 
of every elegant shade and hue
I have beheld the splendid beauty…
 of your green weeping willow's gracious bows and limbs
of iridescent greens and golds
that whisper gently in your swaying, languid winds
 

I have witnessed golden eagles fly so gracious and free
  in your pictorial, periwinkle blue skies
I've feasted my eyes on the sublime splendor
  of your enchanting, golden harvest moon
as its elegant beauty paints a rose, gold, splendid image 
  so deep within my mind
 

All your violet-blue endless horizons
  Your smoky, gray mountains so grand
in the rose blue cool light of dawn
  Your chattering bird songs in skies of azure blue
The fragrant scent of amber gold pinecones
   in the sparkle of the crystal clear early morning dew
 

I pay Ode’ to you Great Mother Nature
  for every golden ray of sun that warmed my skin
that hangs brilliant and dazzling...
   in your glorious skies of cerulean blue


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Hope You Know I'll Always Love You

I am what you call a hopeless 
romantic,
But im also a lost lovers cause, my 
heart belongs to another
Yet in my head a love triangle starts 
to form, the girl I love doesn’t love 
me
She holds the heart to another and 
mine caged to the floor,
She isn’t afraid to fight for what she 
wants, not even when it comes to 
leaving another man torn
Trust me she’s happy, as that boy 
holds her heart ever so close
Seeing what I shouldn’t I smile as I 
wear my blind fold,
Blind to everything around, lifeless 
staring into air
My train of thought running so fast, 
the second I stop you’ll hear a crash
Derailing my hope, for ever finding a 
love so pure & rare
Wishing I could hold the hand of the 
lover who stole my flame,
Wish I could change the last days in 
which we parted ways,
Realizing now that we can never be 
the same
Finally saying it out loud as tears run 
down my face
You stole my happiness, as I walked 
away that day
But it’s because as of what you said 
I guessed I changed,
Now every relationship has just be 
the same,
No one can seem to bring back that 
flame,
Because a love likes ours comes 
once in a lifetime
Well at least it does to me,
But I mean you’re happy with who 
your with 
I mean I only wrote this as I heard 
exchanging “I love you” flow from 
each of your lips.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Romantic Feelings

Thus thou be kind to let me be
This heart explodes if not said to thee
Words spoken as true as love
By Jove! Ye art sent from up above

Those sweet smiles that make thy world go round and round
Just one night thine heart was not found
Because la belle dame named
Just took it on her arm

Oh I think I have gone mad
To pursue that love I never had
‘Cause I know we art two worlds away
How I wish I could longer stay

Though it may this heart ever throb
But I admit there is a locked doorknob
I can’t enter, stay outside
At that very moment I could have died

I will dream tonight f that very key
And dwell in the world of hyperreality
So that I can subtly see
The thoughts of being together; you and me


Details | Prose Poetry | |

lead my hand o' dear life

lead my hand o' dear life

lead my hand
on this land
o' dear life, 
until the end

o' dear thought
of comfort

seed my life
feed me not in strife
bleed me joy from nine to five

lead me a journey of phases
a journey of ages
to face this

germinate in me a corn
of survival 
a history of possibilities
a record of living to afford
a source to live

for this life 
is a choreographer of life
a propeller of existence
an economy of spiritual commodities

a tear drop of opportunities
yet not so many does see its commonalities
an event of anomalies and regularities

lead me a way o' dear life
carry me a sledge on a journey of life 
a terrain of survival and life

a gemstone for many
a pentagon of any
a model of penny

an artwork of joy

a string of life on a journey
a script of many
a stanza of any

opn08022012/0106

from: 'journey of life' and 'on a journey', 
february 2012 

>> ntema's unique poetry (nup) 
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lead-my-hand-o-dear-life/


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Natural starting points

Natural starting -Point 



 The subject of a poem is the idea or thing that the poem concerning or represents
 I review about 15 poem this morning.. and the feeling I got from them, the writer attitude
 toward the subject matter.
 
As a reviewer I cannot praise all the poems that I review. however, I can only encourage them to thrive ... some had a bit or irony , the tone were playful and some of them were some serious submits

Poetry Soup is a wonderful site...
let encourage each other to aim higher..

one love annie L


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Holy Passion

ALERT: A carpenter's son is loose in the Temple
Birds flutter, animals hustle, merchants scream.
The zeal for Jesus' Father's house consumes Him
As the place for foreigners to pray had become a zoo.
 
ALERT: A prophet is setting up for a Baal battle.
Baal's priests even cut themselves yet no fire.
After taunting, Elijah fills his altar with water.
Calling on God, fire consumes and people bow.
 
ALERT: An old man is building a huge boat ship.
Without a cloud in the sky and only son's to help.
When finished the animals come on call to board.
Rain starts, doors close – 8 saved by holy passion.
 
ALERT: Jesus is telling a tax collector he'll join him for dinner.
Heedless of the Pharisees despising and the crowd's surprise.
Zacchaeus totally changes – offering to multiply stolen money.
A single sinner saved multiplies even more this holy passion.
 
ALERT: Peter plus are preaching in the Temple again.
After being imprisoned for just that, now rearrested.
Whipped by the authorities, the disciples rejoice -
For they've been counted worthy to suffer with Christ.

ALERT: Daniel's praying openly even after it's become illegal.
The royal advisers gleefully have the king throw him to the lions.
Strangely they don't seem hungry till after Daniel is pulled out.
So the king openly praises Daniel's God for this amazing miracle.
 
DOUBLE ALERT: Jesus is talking to a Samaritan woman!!!!
Breaking cultural barriers to share the message of salvation
To her who has been married 5 times and is living with the 6th.
She believes he's the Messiah and brings the town to Christ!
 
ALERT: Paul's going back into the same town that stoned him.
He's preaching again after shipwreck, jail, beatings, and such.
Persecution seems to encourage Paul that he's doing the right.
Passionately following the Savior who turned Him 180 degrees.
 
ALERT: Bible translators burned at the stake for God's Word.
Missionaries avoid death and disease long enough to share life.
Stirring Holy Passion in receptive people who repeat the cycle.
Changing cultures in bondage into those sharing Jesus' love.
 
ALERT: What passion has the Lord put on your heart? Mine?
Can we pray to see His will find its way in our everyday lives
So the lost shall see, hear, find Christ and grow to share Him?
Eternity is forever, this life is not. Fill us Lord with holy passion.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Rose that Bloomed

One glowing dawn he came ,

With a rose in his hand.

Rain drops were still there,

Though not over him.

“God! He was melting away!

Why are all those clouds about, Mark?

Don’t you know I have always waited for you…

I  waited for you long and long.”

“Dude! My voice left me alone!

Well…my eyes had voice!

It was all transparent with my eyes.”

At last he gazed at me and went away.

Oh! He left me without the rose.

“Well…you  know…

Another day will come.

He will step in.

A new rose will bloom for me.”


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Imagine

Imagine 
Looking with eyes 
All events, everything 
From a viewpoint  
A perspective that sees all 
The broadest spectrum 
On a universal scale 
Natural, black and white, 
If there was a finite 
Amount of energy existing  
In the womb that is space 
Without the influence of fictitious forces 
The universe is static, 
But if gravity was rather antimatter 
Drawing upon and absorbing matter 
Producing energy as it does, 
Energy and material are interchangeable  
With no deviation from the constant 0 
Everything seems to cancel out in the end 
But time is relative 
From a universal perspective 
There is no starting point and no end 
To a cyclical event, 
Matter and antimatter exploding Into 
Existence, then snuffing each other out 
Would I be wrong of the conclusion  
In stating god is energy? 
We are in Gods image 
Not as humans, 
But all life...


Details | Prose Poetry | |

scar on my neck

beloved imagery of one as a whole
something i will not ever fathom or ever know
for as a newborn my eyes were doomed to challenge
left eye lost at age two
in agony in growth...not know what to do
three years ago something appeared uninvited no less
behind my ear...not in my heart or breast
ignorance served daily knew no better
as one day on that very ignorance i choked
doctor says its a tumor and it will leave a scar
life flashes before me
of the last three years...especially a year ago when i flipped my precious...three times
my Charlotte...my car
the mistakes that i endured
the words that i spoke
the nights that i was away
the cuts that i instigated
with a scar on my neck
all because i waited
inches not bit by bit inches from behind my ear
and down
it may be raining
but i am on my knees begging God...don't let me drown
forgive me for my ignorance the wrong...every sin
for i knew not where i was... but i confess where i have been


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Poet

I have gazed long at the turbulent
  while piled high cloud masses
I have watched the millions of stars at night
  the damp fog has come and surrounded me
and the land is silent
  the fresh rain has laved my face
while the wind blew warmly.

I receive no message from these for humankind
  but hear only their message to me;
for they awaken the wonder that is in me
  in addition, the yeaning that is the depth of my soul.

They do not tell me to scatter my words
  through the world like seeds
rather, they say, Behold! be of us 
  and wing out beyond the world forever
and in my soul the deep yearning pleads for the
  fulfillment of its' aching desire
to go with the sun, moon and the stars
  and seek with them the answer to eternity.

But still the clouds, ebon faced, mass against
  the fiery red rays of the setting sun
the stars, far distant, in space, still glitter
  brightly in the patterns
the fog, white by day, grey by night
  moves yet noiselessly on, giving intimacy
to near things, and strangeness to
  those looming on the edge of vision
the rain falls yet too, cleansing and releasing
  the perfume of the wet earth.

So I write
  letting the words of my unrest
go freely where they would
  for each word is deflection
from the longing within me
  of all the voices I must heed and may not.

However, I cannot write in the dark
  I cannot write as I stand on the hill gazing
yet the yearning is there most of all
  therefore! I say aloud, convincingly
"It is only lovely"
  to wander on through the night and day
and the years. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Contrast

Pharisee went into the Temple to pray
Sure of his goodness and love for God
He prayed confidently about his deeds
Fasting, tithing, praying, He did faithfully
 
This man was glad when the sinner came
Into the Temple with eyes downcast.
For it gave a perfect contrast to himself.
So he thanked God he wasn't like this sinner.
 
Sinner was bowed so very low before God.
"God have mercy on me a sinner." he whispered.
No list of good uttered, as he could see none.
Jesus said Sinner not Pharisee was justified.
 
Simon the Pharisee invited Jesus over to eat.
Simon didn't have servants wash Jesus feet
He didn't kiss Jesus or draw near for fear,
Fear of what others Pharisees would think.
 
In came a sinful woman with unkempt hair.
She wept at Jesus feet without looking up.
Carefully she wiped these feet with her hair.
Simon was now sure Jesus was no prophet
 
A prophet could surely tell she was a sinner.
How could he let her touch him that way?
Reading Simon's thoughts Jesus taught.
Using this contrast in real life as a lesson.
 
He asked Simon if there were two debts
One greater, one lesser and both forgiven.
Who would feel greater love and gratitude?
Simon replied, "The one whose debt was greater"
 
"Correct" said the One who would pay all debts.
Those who know their debt to God is great.
Are filled with greater love toward the Savior.
Simon showed he had little need for the Christ.
 
But to the woman. Jesus said, "You sins are forgiven."
"Go and sin no more." She stood free and esteemed
Precious are those who come humbly to the Lord
He will forgive and welcome them to His Family forever.
 
Humility. Pride. Contrast. Mixed in all of us.
People who come to God feeling worthless, Christ lifts up.
People striding in proudly, Jesus humbles to allow entry.
For the Lord's Kingdom's door is incredibly low.
So low that we enter only through true confession
From the heart to Jesus as Savior who humbled Himself
Coming down from glory to earth's mess to make a Way.
By humbling Himself on a Cross – Universe's God tortured.
 
Jesus contrast makes ours seem small – so why wait?
May we take the humble road to Life, risen Christ made.
Joining God's family of forgiven, freed, joyful sinners.
New life's contrast with old will grow as we follow Him.
 
By a thankful sinner now saint by Jesus' grace


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Fourth Fable

 The Fourth Fable 
The Fourth Fable 
 
A Jesus Cowboy Song 
 
Eye am a strong man iff strength is not physical alone, 
but charachter and hope, love become my armour 
 my arm as gates once opened close now new ones open at a glance in poverty 
of riches poor people there in Heaven sing to Jesus as they wave branches from 
the richness of the trees beside the waters running in the trenches freely given 
overflowing when a little lamb just wants a drink of water another drink the water 
bubbles up so no one has to lift her she can reach the water carefully she drinks 
and then she sings…' 
'my holster is empty my life is complete my love is in Heaven 
eye have plenty to eat and to drink ' 
life is not meant to be a shoot em up rodeo 
life is not meant to be a shoot um up movie 
my life is in Heaven my holster is empty 
eye have LOVE' 
 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lost Time

Cold commercial relics of industrial production;
As if production could harness the complex origin of pre-classic contemporaries.
Master’s of earthly arts and masonry,
Their blood and fears culminating in celestial creations of historic proportions;
Over vastly constricting landscapes.

I send phalanges of lost connection,
Deep past the ordinary boundaries of normal paths.
The sandy soil nourishes my calloused souls.
At night it soothes and refreshes the canyons between cracked and missing digits.

Frogs echo through the expansive night sky.
Resonating between the stars, and returning in an extremely complex yet simple pattern, 
their message is sent.
Louder with each chirp and bellow, subtle patterns illuminate the differences in each response.

The spring has come.  
Time to refresh the foot’s connection with continual movement.
Let your bellow dig deep to the soil of space’s horizons,
And return rooted in the rhythm of earth’s timing.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

He was the broken Mirror

Standing with your back turned to me, I can still see that you are 5’11” with a short juice cut that is just cute enough for me to notice. With a smile that can bright up all three galaxies. With the most desirable hugs and laughs that kept me motivated to go through all the nails and hail just to see you at the end of the bow. With a personality like yours, you needed not an extra piece, for your beauty was 100 plus and then some. But who are you? Who were you? Who told you it was okay for you to disappear? Did you not think I need you? Well, I do, indeed need your shadow at least! 

You were my shine in the rain and my warmth in the blizzard. You were very much needed. Please I ask that you return with a response of none. You set me apart from the world, as I set you apart from my soul. I am just glad I kept a little dignity so I have not to die in despair. You disappointed me to the point where I trust not a spirit that brushes my essence. I believe you cursed me you fortunate jackass. You came and destroyed what I said not to be ever destructible. You thought you were the light when I specifically said you were my polish only. How dare you be conceited? I never said you were my world, whereas when I was with you I never conformed so I do indeed thank you. 

Standing with your back against the wall and facing me I now see you are 3’11” with a south fade cut that is just ugly enough for me to notice. With a smile that can dim hell. With the most unpleasant hugs and laughs that kept me unprovoked to survive the snowflakes and drizzles just not to see you at the end of the road. With a personality like yours, you needed an extra piece of beauty plus 100 and then some. But who are you? Who were you? Who told you it was okay for you stand in my presence? Did you think I need you? Well, I do, indeed need you to take your shadow and vanish.

I live only for God, and then I live for me.  Who said I need you to reach the stars, when I have God to take me to the next galaxy.

JazzieAnn Brown   10/17/12


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Little Big Man

I was always the little guy, 
Picked on for my size, 
Pushed and prodded in the halls, 
Cowered to nothing by their calls, 

They threw rocks at me every day, 
So I would leave early on my way, 
And wore two coats with hoods, 
Rocks only striking when I stood, 

Sometimes they'd throw boulders, 
And they glanced off my shoulders, 
And then I would come back in pain, 
With yesterdays tear stains, 

Once they crippled me for days, 
Hitting my legs, oh what pains, 
But then my dad took me in, 
And I grew into a young man, 

And two years later I returned, 
And now the tables were turned, 
You see I grew a foot taller, 
And no longer was I smaller, 

I visited those who threw stones, 
And none of them had grown, 
As I did those past two years, 
And I couldn't pay back the tears, 

For I knew their sudden plight, 
They were too small to fight, 
But they soon left my brother alone, 
This was the gift I gained from stone, 

So from bullied to protector I moved, 
And the little ones all approved, 
Of the new big friend they now had, 
And how I stopped those bullying cads.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Changing Directions

	I was driving on Confused Avenue, only to find a T section at the end of the Avenue, I had to turn left, turn right, or simply just turn around.
	I sat in my car, to read the street signs.  The street sign to the left was Hell Street, the sign to the right was Heaven Highway.
	Quite naturally, I turned right onto Heaven Highway.  I drove 10 miles only to find Heaven Highway was blocked, so I had no choice but to turn around.
	Instead of turning back on Confused Avenue, I decided to drive down Hell Street because I was curious about what I would find.  I drove 5 miles and didn’t like what I saw.  I tried to turn around, but, I realized I was trapped, so I continue driving on Hell Street, oh and to my surprise.
	As I drove, I past intersections titled Judgmental Court, Temptation Avenue, Backsliding Lane, Gossip Corner and Devil’s Plain.  I said to myself, these are the same streets I’ve traveled on before, no need to stop, I need to drive on. 
	I continue driving on Hell Street looking for a way to turn around, lo and behold, I saw a bright light shining in the middle of the road.
	I drove as close as I could to the bright light, I stopped the car and got out for a closer look.  I walked into the light and was greeted by a man who was kind and wise.
	I was so scared, but he assured me I would be fine.  He said I saw you driving on Heaven Highway….child, you can’t get to heaven driving that way.
	He said, In order to get to heaven you need to know about  Judgmental Court, Temptation Avenue, Backsliding Lane, Gossip Corner and Devil’s Plain.  
	I told the man I once lived on some of those streets, so I wanted to see where Heaven Highway would take me.  It was blocked, so I couldn’t drive through.
	He said Heaven Highway was blocked for a reason. You forgot to repent and ask the Father, through His Son Jesus, for forgiveness.
	I closed my eyes, feel to my knees and I started to pray, when I finished praying, I  opened my eyes, the man, and, the bright light had disappeared.
	I got back in my car and turned it around, that’s when I realized I had been driving on Heaven Highway the entire time.
	The Highway to Heaven is not a straight forward drive, there are so many detours along the way, that force many to turn their life around.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Creation, Curse and Promise

Since eternity past God the Father Son & Holy Spirit dwelled in unity and sweet fellowship.
Then Three-In-One decided to make a marvelous universe with an earth for life to dwell.
Creating an amazing array of creatures was the easy part – the risk was on the last made.
For unlike other creatures, man & woman were made in God's likeness with a Spirit.

That Spirit communicated with God, and harmony reigned as earth was well cared for.
Freedom to do was great – limited by but one tree that the humans were not to ear from.
At that tree, Satan disguised himself as an innocent snake and asked the woman questions.
Did God really say don't eat from this tree?  Well, that's to keep you from becoming like Him.

Look its fruit is beautiful and one bite and you'll know what God does and be Jehovah's equal.
Eve was confused, for this didn't sound like what Adam said God told her, but wouldn't it be grand.
If God is so good, why would he keep this secret from us of being able to be like Him – is He jealous?
The firm, juicy fruit was indeed delicious, and she quickly called Adam to taste, which soon he did.

A small act? Every war, family problem, anger, hatred, lie, killing, stealing, rape, abuse came herefrom.
The beauty of God's creation was now marred with sin that affected every part with death and decay.
God graciously gave Adam & Eve animal skins for no longer would they live in Eden's perfect climate.
From now on there would be sweat for the food they ate and exceedingly great pain during childbirth.
Even their firstborn would murder their second, starting the cycle of revenge and killing that's ongoing.

Yet God also made a promise that one would come who would crush Satan's head while being bruised.
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God" clues us in to who.
For God's Son Himself would come to teach, heal and offer His life on a Cross to destroy our death curse.
Our sins He would bear and in rising He's seal the promise of eternal life, so great we Jesus' love for us.

For Jesus the cost was unbelievably high, and for us the reward is incredibly great – if we but accept.
Accept that I am a sinner, I've done wrong and need God's forgiveness to live with His perfection.
Accept that Jesus can do what I cannot – change my heart, make my Spirit alive to forever live with God.
This being GOD, the promise of heaven and new earth is sure, though pain lies in between.  Choose now.

For GOD and all creation cry out – this is what life is meant for – to know and love One's Maker.
As humans we live eternally with or apart from God, and His great desire is that we choose with.
But just as an earthly Father cannot force true love, nor does our Heavenly Father – He waits.
Though He made all and knows beginning from end, he waits and yearns that we receive His love.

Then love and be loved by Jesus in life's harshness & delight, sharing that love with other lost children
To work in harmony with the One who made us, makes life new again as our spirit is filled with new life.
There can be dry days when we don't feel His presence, and others so full that we want to shout for joy.
The fact is Our Father GOD, our Savior Jesus, the Holy Spirit, are always with us and never will leave us. Amen.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Milroy Farm

Milroy Farm
11-30-08
By
William L. Moore
For
William McCracken Milroy

Sitting in my Deer stand
Upon my Uncles land
Feel the simple breeze
As it whispers through the trees

Waiting for the Deer
Not a single hint of fear
Hear the leaves rustle
In all of the bustle

As they encroach
The closer they approach
It’s really really strange
As they cross the range

As you hear the gun go CRACK
I may have hit his back
He stumbles gently away
And falls where he may lay

I must wait until he dies
Let alone through the cries
I am through with the season
Since I have accomplished my reason

Uncle Bill I thought of you when
I wrote this and wanted to make
Sure that you got it
Love
William Lewis Moore
Bill


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sunshine By WLM November 25, 2008

Outside the sun is grand
In which I love to stand
Soaking up all the rays
Hope it stays this way for days

The breeze is cool
Like a shining Jewel 
The noise is so quiet
You wish you could buy it 

How heavenly I feel
It tis the real deal
The beauty abounds
As I walk around

The planes fly high
In the deep blue sky
Marking their time
Just follow the line

The tall trees that show
Will continue to grow
And are the trees we love to see
Glory Be!  We will jump up with Glee!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Basic Rules to Live By

When communication fails, resort to loneliness.
When loneliness fails, resort to communication.
When resorting fails, communicate with your
lonely self and meet your only friend.

When you give up someone else's dream, you begin to live.
When you free yourself from your own dreams, you realize that you've
never lived at all.
Then, when you dream, you'd rather be living.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lost Love Found by WLM on March 29, 2011

I need not scream
For the return of my dream
I feel so much better
For from her I received a letter
Her feelings were not of being mad
But of making me feel glad
She still wants me
And that is the way it should be
There was never a great cost
Nor even a feeling of being lost
When I heard from my love
All was still sent from heaven above
She finally did show
And my face had such a great glow
For me she does still need
So for now I will not concede
She still loves me so
In my heart I will always know
To me she will still marry
Now my head is not in a flurry
And a family we will still start
In mine heart I will sing like a lark
As God meant us to see
Together we will always be
In the simple breeze
I will hold her in my arms to squeeze
Now that I have my dear
I will lose all my fear
I have my best friend back
Oh God thank you for that
For with her I have no doubt
Thank you God I will never be without
She has made me so happy I still cry
For in my heart I do not want to die
All the feelings of dread
Have been put out of my head
To her I have so much to give
And for all of that we will always live
We must always treat each so well
My heart can only swell
I feel so young again
And that is where she will begin


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Christmas Poem (For Lyn, et al)

...Have occasioned
I think to have been decor-
rating The Tree, it's 
 
piney quills & tines   
dressing in glassy festoons
weightless baubles of 
 
tins-led Christmas-candy
colors, like porcelain 
fragile-fine, hooked canes
 
& dangled barber-pole-paean
peppermint-stick Memories
of savored hangon 
 
trinkets & heirlooms
looming like a twinkling 
tapestry 'round 
 
wreaths of snowy popped-corn
dangling - "No, darlings, that's not 
for eating..."  Yes, I 
 
have occasioned the 
rows of bubbling light-tubes 
like glowing chains of 
 
warm caterpillars 
inching-on toward the Manger's 
Star of a chrysalis 
 
Christmas Joy to Light-
Up the World!  Oh Yes, I have 
occasioned The Tree 
 
Breathing in Ecstasy...
And the Wonder, of this from
a Guy whose Imprimatur 
 
might have been
"Tannenbaum!"
 
                         H.e.m.
                         12.8.MMvi.  
                         Noel. 


"And so, as Tiny Tim observed, G-D bless Us, Every One!" 
(" A Christmas Carol").  And...

A "...Merry Christmas to All, and to All a Good Night!" 
(Clement Clarke Moore, "Twas The Night Before Christmas").
 
Amen.

 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Dylan who

we'd drink something that'd give  good boot 
something strong 

he'd tell me about Dylan T 
the boathouse 
the scenery 
how he'd party with the worst of them 
show 'em how it's done 

and maybe 
somewhere between 
the laughs and the re-fills 
it would spiral downward 
to past loves 
ideals 
the occasional awkward stare 
and silence 

Then we'd part ways 
fluff-brained 
wobbly 
and forget what we'd learned 
about each other by the morning.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Last Night

      Last Night


This night , I hesitate
I stop three times, then continue; a dream within a dream
From Heaven to Earth and all around
And here I sleep; happiness smiles at me and brings much joy and laughter

The light energy of the soul
Is like a river of power, running through time
Born to walk this road of forgetfulness
Just one custodian of this planet, to carry the eternal torch of love and conversion.

To sleep, closed eyes which see and vision so clear
The one who listens while in deep slumber
When justice is near; a miracle to receive
To feel the Heavenly love; the spirit triumphant reign

The soul grows hungry for guidance and direction from the King
As the body becomes thirsty and tired, so does the spirit.
Even before the physical hunger is satisfied, the spirit gains strength
When the body is on the verge of hopeless retreat, the soul takes over.


William Morrissey 6/27/10 unfinished


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Beauty Surrounds

Beauty Surrounds
WLM
Wildncrazy555
June 27, 2011


See the wonders of the world
As they pass to us unfurled
Such an amazing light
Sun shining so bright
Flying on the wing
Hear the birds sing
The grass so green
Such a sight has you ever seen
The lilies in bloom
Orange hue in their flume
I see stars in my head
Of the roses so deeply red
The crate myrtles so pink 
They cause me to blink
Birds sitting in the trees
Catching the cool summer breeze
Dogs continually play
Let them stay and have their way
The fluffy clouds so high
Up, up high in the sky
The trees they sway
In the wind they play
The magnolia blooms
The beautiful pearly white flumes
The scent so pungent
So sweet to the smell
The bees they separate
Jump from flower to flower to pollinate
God’s wonderful earth
Created for our birth
We shall begin again
From now until the end



Details | Prose Poetry | |

Hazel Eyes

Hazel Eyes
WLM
Wildncrazy555
September 15, 2011

Such beautiful eyes
So full of mysterious disguise
They have the sheen 
Of a light light green
And yellow as the autumn sky
As you gaze you wonder why
As I wait to meet
Surely my heart will greet
Of the feelings we share
Surely, Do we DARE
As we run through life amongst and with it
Through our devoted commitment
Follow the long forgotten past
In our hearts we know it will last
Our love is so fine
In our eyes you see it as we dine
To feel the warmth of her skin
The feelings I know she will let me in
From this day forward I know she is mine
Our love will last till the ends of all time
The feelings in my heart are a must
Truly, truly they are JUST!

Dedicated to a lady I know
Jacki Wahner McDowell
With Beautiful Hazel
EYES


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Game

Rap is quick, witty and fun.

Poetry is smooth, rhythmic and heartfelt.

Rap and poetry had a love child.

A daughter, named Spoken Word.

She grew to maintain the better characteristics of her parents;

From Rap, she took freestyle, freedom, and grass roots movement.

From Poetry, she took imagery, theme, and voice.

Together, all three, as common forms of expression,

spread to every rapper, poet and storyteller in the world.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Sweet

My Sweet
William Lewis Moore
Wildncrazy555
(Bill)
02-28-2010
My sweet
You make me feel neat
My heart skips a beat
On the day we will Meet
You brighten my life
Remove all the strife
Always be mine
Like an age old wine
For me I will Marry
I can not wait to carry
Over the threshold
I feel so so bold
You are my only love
Hear the cooing of the dove
Sitting in the tree
Just like You and me
The day will be bright
As the starry starry night
The sun will shine 
For I know you are mine
I will always love you
It will always be new
I give you my will
For my name is sweet Bill
For you will leave the mark
Deep within my heart


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Finding My Pure Heart

All the violence on TV was probably not good for me
All the decapitated corpses on video games not the brightest idea for me
Life’s real dramas just frustrate me
All the fabricated television dramas annoy me
We all love a happy ending yet we consume the misery and pain of others
Haunted by life changing events
At times I just simply need to vent
Why be educated and humble when being ignorant and shallow brings you fame
Why save your virginity for marriage, when society’s sluts take all the good guys that a girl covets
Why be a nice guy, when all the respectable women settle for assholes yet are surprised when they are mistreated and cheated on
Why live a life down the correct path, when the wrong path is glorified and admired by society
Beneath the darkness and rubble of life exist the flickering white light of my once pure heart


Find more of my writings and poems at jorgesouthkorea.com


Details | Prose Poetry | |

to The Public

Not really a poem, but the truth of my being.

To the Public
WLM
Wildncrazy555
June 28, 2011

When I write the words just flow. I get an inspiration or a thought and have to write it down. 
Why, I do not know.  They just flow and all follow a story.  I write my innermost thoughts with 
the deepest passion imaginable and all are TRUE life experiences which have occurred in my life. 
I am diagnosed Severe Bipolar Disorder and disabled and draw SSDI. I no longer have to work 
from over 40 yrs in Maintenance and 2 degrees in Electronics and Electrical maintenance. I do 
draw disability now for over 2 yrs time and depression is a daily bout which I face every day, 
but try to be positive. The medicine I take is for my head and helps with mood swings and 
depression. As to date, I cannot read many of my works as I Bawl like a baby at most of 
them.  I remember when and how I felt when I wrote them.  But all of them follow a story to 
the end.  I cannot recite a single one because once written they are gone, otherwise they eat 
my Brain.  I am crying now as I write this and divulge my deepest thoughts and experiences of 
my life. I feel better now that it is gone from my head folks.  When a situation arises, I just 
know which ones will deserve recognition to be told.  I suffer from arthritis on my left side, my 
hands hurt all the time, and I practice herbal medicine for the pain.  I create my own remedies 
from my herbologist named Daryl Collins here in Okmulgee, he gives me the herbs and I am 
the guinea pig first and foremost for the experience.  Anyone else who suffers from this can 
contact me at trenton6896@yahoo.com.  I am willing to tell you the recipe for my
Creations.  I hope all appreciate this testimony of mine.  All I say is true to fact.
							William Lewis Moore
							June 28, 2011


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Love Song

Love you when you're sleep
Love you when you're awake
Ijust wanna love every breathe you take

Love your beauty
Love your elegance
Ijust want to love you til i'm in a trance

Love youwhen you're serene 
Love you when you;re still
I just wanna love you, It's real

Love your melody 
Long your song
I just want to love you all night long

Love you when you're daring
Love you when you're shy

I just want to love you as the day passes by


Details | Prose Poetry | |

OMUBBI -"Thief"

Like a thief at midnight
He came along
Sending whispers down my heart
And shivers down my spine
Entrapped in his line,I was
	
They say he is a master of all trades
But he passed my way today
And even I was caught unaware

But then he opened his eyes
And lit up my life
And everyday I hope
He never blinks 
That this light never dies out
The one that makes me smile.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

and i am

vulnerable & helpless
weak & powerless
defenseless & exposed
open to attack

and i am..

flagarant & blatant
barefaced & overt
brazen & brash
audacious & outrageous
undisguised & unconcealed
transparent & immodest
indecorous & unabashed
unashamed & unblushing
unrepentant & unforgiving

and i am..

bold & brave
courageous & intrepid
valiant & valorous
gallant & plucky
heroic & daring
audacious & indomitable
doughty & unafraid
undaunted & unflinching
lionhearted

and i am..

unnamed & unidentified
anonymous & incognito
unspecified & unsourced
unknown & unsung
uncelebrated & uncredited
unacknowledged

but most of all i am..

finally free

free of captivity
free of interrogation
free of misery

and i am..

free of all the things
you put me through

and i am..

assured
the quickest path to heaven
was straight through hell


Details | Prose Poetry | |

All About A Red Saturday

At last time has brought me to this day yet again on another Saturday night things forever will end sweet flowers with petals in need For me it is nothing more than a day my life will begin the pain I feel will forever remain yet to others it is merely a Saturday Here I stand at the path of yesterday and today for tomorrow there will be nothing more to say in so many demanding ways I thank God it is Saturday The last day in a week seen as play but as for me it is such a lonesome day tomorrow is day number one the day life begins has yet begun Peace floods me in my solace this day knowing it is final, done, ended, this 5th day in May the day I was finally told to give up and walk away I am no longer trapped by my fears or waiting for he to cause me pain I am the one who won on this Saturday At last I do not care to be played or hurt to the extreme, a lovers old tired game I want to thank you for moving on to another's sweet way This will forever be known as Red's blessed Saturday and with this release back into the wild game I find my heart pure for those locked deeply away thank you for letting me be and not trying to keep hurting me SATURDAY is officially my lucky day! enjoy the date that you made, love her deeply, cherish her face for I will forever remain ever-so grateful for this Saturday To you both I thank you, and send a prayer of passionate love your way! At last I can be happy all because of one Saturday in May! To me a new anniversary I have now made, with God's amazing grace.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Rain begins again

Rain Begins Again
WLM
Wildncrazy555
June 28, 2011

Dizzy Lizzy sitting in the rain
Waiting for it to sustain
Hear the thunder rolling
The giant in the sky is bowling
The rain is so cool
As the mourning jewel
The birds in the trees
Feeling the cool breeze
The rain gives new birth from the heart
It quenches the earth from its start
The rain feels so fine
It makes my head feel so sublime
The earth needs the rain
So all life can sustain
The feelings that we share
Surely, do we dare?
Revel in the glory
Of the never-ending story
With the land and it’s age
From this to another stage
The flowers so much in bloom
With such a beautiful flume
Surrounding our earth
From the beginning of it’s birth
Will be the rest for me
For all time and my destiny


Details | Prose Poetry | |

English Garden

I have found the treasure
that lies at the Rainbow's end;
surrounded by Sweet William, for-get-me knots,
and crimson shades of velvet rose.

Near the cottage of old where I was young,
the quaint charm of the English garden.
Where time has not weathered with due harm,
swirls of hued asters still in the brisk fresh air.

Moments spent dancing with cupid in midst
of a sunny afternoon.
Seconds where dreams danced on the moon,
sweet perfume floats by to wisp away my breath.
Up ahead mine eyes view the grassy slopes
where a thousand of narcissus bloom.

I watch them sway the day away tossing 
their sweet perfume to the winds.
Wicker seats and ivory benches upon I sit and muse.
The soul cannot thrive in the absence of a garden,
a rose plot, fringed pool and serenity.

Burn the sage, the leaves of rose and wintergreen
Light the candles in the middle of the afternoon.
From within my center core I breathe for more of this
paradise near heavens view.

Sweet surrender to growing things, cupids chimes in
melody rings, for here is a heavenly peace that mirrors
my thirsty soul.


My x4 Great Grandmother was from England a Duchess but she chose to marry my X4 Great
Grandfather and lost her inheritance and rights for neglecting the wishes of the family in
England. He was a Captain of the sea and brought many to the American shores of Mass. In
reading and studying, I found she loved to write of the sea and those things she cherished
from England and growing up, from memoires, she has touched my muse and from time to time,
I let her speak of such cherished beautiful things.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Amanda

Amanda
December 12, 2011
WLM
Wildncrazy555

Amanda my Dream, 
Just let out a scream, 
I know it will be, 
For YOU shall be with me, 
For the rest of my life, 
Without all the strife, 
We will always give,
Through our lives we will live, 
So happy and content, 
As it should be meant, 
And live and learn, 
In my arms I truly yearn, 
To have and to hold, 
For this I will be bold.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Invited Guests

C’mon in, RELIEF.  Linger longer, CONTENTMENT. 
Have a seat, HUMOR. Hope you’re contagious, LAUGHTER.  
Dance away, TRANSPARENCY. Do it again, SURPRISE. 
Tell me more, HONESTY. Help me remember, SENTIMENT. 
Flirt no more, TEMPTATION. Remain calm, PEACEFULNESS. 
Convince me, SINCERITY. Ask me anything, LISTENING. 
You go first, COURAGE. Hold on tight, COMMITMENT. 
Guard this heart, FAITH. Work it all out, LOGIC. 
Spend the night, LOVE. No apologies, TEARS. 
Turn on your light, TUNNEL. Lay me down, SLEEP. 
Make ‘em sweet, DREAMS. Wake me in the morning, HOPE.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Night Watchman

When the night falls
And the moon is up high,
You can be rest assured the
Night watchman will be stopping by.

As he does each and every night
When we all go to bed
This is at a time when our comfort
Is most needed so we can rest our heads.

After a long hard days work
After a busy and stressful day,
Whatever the case may be
The night watchman is here to stay.

His role is the greatest of all
His position no man can hold
He’ll never fault at his duties
He watches over all both young and old.

As we go about our daily lives
Day after day night after night
The night watchman is always working
At any given time not once losing sight.

Of every man, woman and child
On any given day as they each come anew
No, he’s not alone he has an army
Of angels as his crew.

Keeping tabs on everyone and everything
Even creatures great and small,
There’s no such thing as out of sight
When the night watchman is on call.

So no matter who, where or what we are
Even if a word is never to be spoken
The night watchman’s eyes and ears
For you and I will always be open.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

believe in the magick

Believe in the magick in the power of each thought. For you are like a lovely 
flower, growing in a pot. You can do it, whatever goals you have ever sought 
and you can grow your roots and widen yourself to a great big plot. And don't 
let yourself be put on the spot. And whatever effort goes out is the same as 
you have brought. Takes time sometimes, don't get distraught. It'll be turned 
toward you every deed or need you've ever bought. Smile,you'll be happier, 
that's what I've learned and I've taught.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

~ Cry of the Muse ~

Of-gentle beginning-and tender song ... ! That we would gratify love in its truest affection. Stand stead fast- uphold it yield to no other-duty ... ! To-have our-souls' so-identified-unified coexisting- exclusively-mid-this ... . To-live, would I die to give the measure of my-soul- just-to-have this ... once ... ! So place me within, make me the-essence of-the-art- lay me down carry me off- as I would be a child lost amid the grandeur- of its promise ... ! Allow this ink to consume us be the genuine eminence, what we reach-for through the humble virtue, heart-of this quill ... ! So all may view soar higher, and even higher still. Be captured, taken within deep- far and away beyond- the bitter part of this world, into the true benignity, flourishing and forever evolving, amid themselves ... ! Yes help me build me up, mold me-yes- come find me ... ! Trick me friend by slight of hand bend me- yes break me down shatter me again, and again truly I care-not ... ! Fill this paper in-its preparedness ... innocence ... verity, hope ... with the sweet passion elation of our souls ... ! Yes carry me before this-vision ... ! Restrain me-not ... . Set our-soul-free ... ! Please ... ? That we may gratify love-uphold it. Yes yield-then ... only-beauty ... ! ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Author notes Written to the (Braveheart) theme By: Enya The expression of this poem was written from within the greater depths, of my soul. It was a cry of my muse. The passion beside which I stand and the hope through which I write. The joy we both carry for the other, and peace and faith in each other, in which we abide. Before this writing my muse had taken a vacation. So willing, I am open to suggestion. ~ Thank you for reading this piece of my work ... God bless you ... (The reason that there are Hyphens "so many of them") is because I have a computer that speaks them with a faster and slower and higher and lower pitch of voice, giving a certain kind of ebb-and-flow to the work with a softer more fervent and realistic and consistent tone, when I use the hyphens and other punctuation in the certain places that I do, when in telling it what to do. Allowing it to speak in even a moderate voice if I choose. It sounds very free flowing when I hear it, and I can only hope that you will be able to here it in the same way. Thank you for reading and God bless you ... ~


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ebony and Ivory

She hides her heart behind misleading eyes, layered with mahogany colored armor & a cloak of insecurities, walking as the proud figure of beauty when all she really wants... is to be accepted. She is, n open book of words unread, full of dread she wished she could express but is too afraid and borders herself away from the world around her. With pearls as her microphone head, lines of poetry as its staff & a background full of instrumented blasphemed romance, attached to an undercoating of Verde. She is, misunderstood and outspoken.. &she reminds me so much of myself. The well anticipated J. Cole concert we'd all been waiting for. She is, the reincarnation of musical masterpieces played through nimble vocal cords, & she's capable of so much more.. than she'll ever truly know..


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Broken Man

I got lost somewhere between hope and reality. I tired with all my might but things never seemed to go right. I had all my dreams ready but they never came true. I planned to achieve numerous goals but I never could. I had the perfect life planned out in my mind but now I feel as if I just wasted my time.  My best efforts never produced any success. Have I been walking through life wasting all of my breaths? Quitting and surrendering is the obvious choice for me now. Do I continue to fight until I have nothing left? Should I just hold my breath and patiently wait for death? Too broken to die and barely alive to continue. I just wish I had a clue to figure out this mystery called life.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

TODAY

Like a pearl waiting to be discovered,
The sun rose this morning,
Blinding my eyes with it’s bright smile
Suffocating me with it’s zest for new life.
This is so rude, I thought.

But then again, wouldn’t you be?
If you were given another chance to make all wrongs right
Another chance to smile at the world
Another chance at life!

Yesterday was gone
Today was here
Tomorrow I never knew
But I had today to make things better
To turn around my tomorrow

And so today I smiled back
An understanding smile
We were in this together
Me and the sun
Smiling at another door that had been opened
And so I arose specially today
Ready to conquer the world
That was my purpose TODAY. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A sound of orient

A sound of orient 
-
He looks like a fragranced oasis in this city; 
a lean, yet muscular man in a dhoti, 
sweaty; playing flute, a plateful of bland food 
in front of him, his humble surrounding, the hut.
A village man, who has once come in chasing dream, 
is now a part of this city, a part of speed, 
all except his flute and customary dhoti. 

The dizzy sound travels up, to the fifth floor terrace, 
to the sad man and sadder woman, to the sadists, 
to the dying and to the dead. It climbs up like veins. 
His is a life, with its own brands of pain and love, 
not demanding, the way sometimes this city extracts. 
The days and nights extract a man. 
He hauls out others or vise versa. 

A sound disappears in sleep, 
becomes a village in the vale, 
where dreams move like sheep.
~© 2009 - All Rights Reserved Kushal Poddar.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

These Falling Tears

Unexplainable pain swells in my eyes, tears go unnoticed running down my face,
pooling together into a tide of emotions. Unleashed anger threatens to break out 
in a mad rush to explode, but my steady stream of tears distinguishes it's only 
flame. Standing in this ocean of misery it's like I will drown, but O' the Truth 
triumphs strong and True; leaving no room for doubt. Often, I am quite blind and I 
can hardly see. Then, in my sight, I see only You as You shine within me.



Tears that go undiscovered may be hid from mans view, but are noticed every 
one by You. I can't give up, no matter the trials I face. I can't, turn away, no matter 
the pain I know. Enduring unto, the near end, I am  Fading more and more each 
day knowing that You are all of me. My heart cannot break in two when Your the 
whole of it. Though haunted by pain and anger, I'm embraced in You, ' Precious 
One' , where I'll forever rest.



Just what love can I compare? Take over me, be more in me and make me more 
of You. Turn from me my desires, cleanse me and purify me, so I will be no 
more. Just to cease to be, is all the desire I desire in me. I see so dimly through 
these falling tears, but the brightest star still shines and no tear can ever dim it's  
light. This terrain is rough and mountains are sure to come, but I'm climbing with 
Your grace... These falling tears shall cease, and I shall cease!

(c) October 30, 2007
Rosemarie Schrock


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Mans Man

Man’s Man

WLM
Wildncrazy555
April 18, 2011
To the gay population in the world

He is quite a man
And he will make his stand
For he will always stay
In his mind his own way
To most in the world it is a sin
But to him it is his place to begin
He is not sappy
He is continually always happy
For the love he has to give
Makes his life so great to live
In life we always change things and arrange
To most in life they think we are strange
We will sit and feel the simple breeze
Knowing ??????’s heart is at ease
In this world we will not desist
For millions of others exist
We must always give them their own space
Since they will always win their race
And they exist in their own place
Which is full of God’s wonderful grace

Written for a friend of mine
Who will always be a friend
Regardless of his lifestyle
William Lewis Moore
Bill


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2008

In 2008, we hope for world peace and wars to cease.
We will take hold of possibilities and cast away the impossibilities.
Embrace a new future to learn and nurture.
Remember new friends we have made along the way
and keep ever-close old friends to heart.

Let us never forget the losses we suffered 
as individuals or as nations.
Encouraging those whom serve us
protecting our freedom.

Let our words mimic our actions
Let us speak uplifting and 
Inspiring word verses.
Let the thoughts of the poets be
engraved in the inspiration
we set forth let us help
carve new truths for all.



In 2008 a Year of new beginnings.

Have a Happy New Years Soupers and thank you for allowing me to become a part of this
community in 2007.



Details | Prose Poetry | |

Lessons taught

Long ago on rolling hills
And endless plains
Stood men who fought
For a cause beyond common understanding
Bound together by integrity
They persevered 
When odds gave no chance
Led by a man
Whose name was always half whispered
They made a vow
From that day forth
To stand as one
For in so doing
They found the strength
Lost on thousands
And won the day
Freedom they earned
From the blood they sacrificed
In defending a land
Not all their own
Thus were legends made
Respect of generations earned
Handed down from father to son
Mother to daughter
For all to hear 
How strength is found
When standing as one
Throughout history
From the example made
Nations have been born
To see freedom reign
Overcoming such odds
That would defeat weaker men
All brought forth long ago
On rolling hills and endless plains
In the lessons taught
By men who stood as one and persevered
For a cause far beyond
Common understanding of mortal men


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Repast of Silence

A sparrow stopped to sing to me as the morning set
Of chance born from fate for this living destiny
Unfolding for me as a many petal flower
Beneath the afternoon’s first kiss

I sing this evening of the dawning of day 
Whose bright beams wash over my skin
Like ice blue fresh water of a mountain’s tears
Sown of happiness full and wide with wonder

My voice cries out this night into the gaping heavens
For I have been freed from my repast of silence
Like a once condemned soul that ripped from hell
His second chance from the mitts of that vile thing
The amorphous icon of putridity

Out cries forth from these silent lips a scream
“I have gleaned the Day!”
And now like a thief in secret
I hold it inside my heart covetously


Details | Prose Poetry | |

TRUST

Trust in you.
Trust in your strength.
Trust in your ability to see.
Trust in you ability to do.
Trust in you and you alone.
Trust that you all alone fit into everything else in your circle.
Trust that you make a difference at work,
with your friends,
at home,
at play,
with family.
Trust that you-yourself matters.
 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

60's Revival

If only the 60's were back,
We all could chant peace and love,
with flowers adorning our hairs,
Rainbows smiling everywhere,
Woodstock would be teeming with excitement,
because Hippies would be mellow and content,
Folks would be tweeting good vibrations,
while on Facebook, the love bug Herbie
would be creating quite a sensation,
As we tip toe through the tulips
singing to Strawberry Fields,
No one would think Politics
a big deal,
All controversy and fear would 
be gone,
becoz the tie-dye crew would be too
busy rocking on!



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Spring Cleaning

Spring enters like
a welcome maid in a dirty
room, cleaning all of Winters mess
and correcting Fall for putting him up to it,
spreading her beauty and love, leaving her
fresh scents & perfect memories


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The Silent One

Who is living alive inside of you? 
Do you even really want to know?
Have you ever spoken to the one that is always speaking to you?
Are you stacking all of your priorities with any proper perspective?
You know it is your battleground or so this is how you make it seem.
A zest for life arises in you continuously only to later be continued. 
So abruptly, you have dismissed the silent one inside of you to go!
All because you were swiftly overpowered by your own self-greed 
Nevertheless, where does the silent one keep retreating off to?
The silent one holds onto every single chance for a timely thought. 
Even all of those improbable unachieved least possible dreams!

What is it that lives alive inside of you?
What makes you even want to breathe?
Have you ever really felt the one who is always feeling you?
Innocence is sweet standing in your way of a divine pleasure. 
Again, it is your battleground or so this is how it surely seems!
Your blissful moments are in the hands of the silent one inside. 
Again, poof vanished indeed this time without a trace or lead!
Yet, you are completely indulging in a definite feeling of gratified.    
Still yet, where does the silent one keep scooting away to?
The silent one holds every crystal-clear thought, 
Even the ones all of you will still clearly demean!

Who gives you to you? 
Have you ever once thought deep and hard into that?
A restricted area due to the danger foretoken, your battleground or so it seems!
Excitement swells up alive inside of you with ecstasy’s loud bursting screams!
The silent one is slipping away while verbal battles are fueling into a combat.
Overwhelmed by self-indulgence your every breath is thoroughly exhausted! 
Still yet, where in this world could your silent one be gallivanting away to?
The silent one holds your every thought, even those you have so deemed!
Now do tell, who knows you better than you do?
Have you ever given this up for a chance of much thought?
Have you ever seen the one that is always looking at you?
Conflict of interest guards the main entrance, the battleground or so it seems!
Enticed to indulge the silent one inside is finally caught when truly sought.
Lured by the sight at hand, but why did the silent one have to stay too?
The silent one holds your every moment in your every thought, 
Even those you always seem to unfortunately forget to redeem!


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20FABEL8

 20FABEL8 
20FABEL8 
 
 
THANKFULLY CHARLAX 
 
20FABEL8 
CURRANT EVENTS FOOD REPORTED 
A man quite gleefully pointed out to me that JESUS is not a dumpster JESUS 
however eye shot back at him gleefully is GOD and iff there is SOMETHING in 
that dumpster that HE wants me just to have then SIR oh eye will have it see eh? 
A survivor is the eye. 
John 6:35-36 
  
Then Jesus declared, "I am the bread of life. He who comes to me will never go 
hungry, and he who believes in me will never be thirsty. But as I told you, you 
have seen me and still you do not believe." 
On the way to this cold freezing day eye found my strength lies not in my right 
hand or arm but in my faith eye walk. Eye find things that no one else wants, as 
eye walk eye soon survive. Pizza sometimes fish sometimes coffee on my list no 
cokes no tomatoes SOK eye have some tomatoes in a can 
The list is endless in my mind and desire comes from a man and coffee is the 
plan. Cups are full or half empty is it half full or empty? Pizza is okay when found 
in cold weather a man can be the judge of whatever food he finds eye do not fill 
mee up with unpleasentness or brine eye drink but not the water that eye find OH 
FAITH will end my misery OH FAITH will feed me too bread is in the pizza that eye 
dew. 
When Jesus saves me at the final trumpet and eye make my last ditch stand at 
that time then he is not going to say WHY oh little man did you eat the scrounge 
pizza on the way but iff a loving GOD did ask me this is what eye say 
PIZZA is food and leftovers is fine my mind works much better with some eye can 
find. FOOD is never a sin or a problem to me. The eye does not eat strips of left 
over pieces he eats the entire pizzas. Eye am good at what eye dew eye can 
survive. And iff ewe ever get the word out to the people in the twilight zone just tell 
them scrounging pizza is better than the bone of chewing fat from steaks and 
living high on Hogg eye am better off alone and living with my love she knoes just 
who she is she knoes just who she loves. 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

SixSixtySix

666
Somewhere in the sky in an airdome is the real liberry there is 5000 computors 
for the public eye and no waiting for seating the shuttle makes a bubble seal and 
you can sit there forever no leaving no plug ins allowed no laptops not no cell 
phones in mye sky the invitation only given to the poor among us the man that 
eye become is almost too wealthy just to qualify as poor to even go there the 
games are never worthless the pictures all of ewe no boring conversations next 
to yew the many flirtations of the masses of the freshmans newest classes they 
still rule the halls of commons making all the little rules and smiles become the 
machinations of all the foolish pride become the day the flaming balls of fire that 
fall from heaven from the bowl fall way to close to eye as the earth turns slowly 
bye too near the lieberry dome portents of the judgment day to come there was a 
statue of the JESUS near the mountain near a bay of water it was hit by 
lightening  wish that eye had saved it very good sign of the times there will be 
signs in the heavens signs in Earth and sky portents of my Jesus getting ready to 
come back he will miss the lieberry dome and let me leave this world to come to 
his feet and worship him to finally come home but there is blue sky in the end of 
time the birds still sing even so the end will come the birds still sing the grass is 
dead the life is hard but the birds still sing. The number of his name the Mark on 
head or hand is 666 the computor asking us for dress codes for passwords and 
for security ones just the other day mye friends eye logged onto BLOGGER from 
my photobucket account to try a new thing to make a picture slide show and it 
very nearly locked me out it told me to wait for five days and try the security 
question then. Shame. Confusion reigned and even eye so well endowed in acts 
of password retrieval was at a loss just how to continue
then when eye remembered at the last moment to ask for the password to be 
sent to me in email and then eye went to log in and logged in anyway 
remembering the enter then laughing then bragging then deciding it's a good day 
once again how lucky are we they could require a number just to enter building 
they could make the screen go dark without a number parted into computor they 
could carry Willy clubs and beat us off the thing down to the floor and straddle us 
and do their wicked thing to us you are not a student anyway. This is my fantasy 
computor fable number SixSixtySix charlax fabel.


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TRUST YOUR INSTINT

you have a feeling
have you reeling
and not appeeling
look up at the sealing
and blink
and wink
TRUST YOUR INSTINT


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SCHOOL BREAK

this that time again
take out your friend
its summer
be a beach bummer
don't be fade
for heavensake
this is
SCHOOL BREAK


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MY CHRISTMAS CARD

 some or here
some or over there
 we showed care
last year
am going dress as a bear
 fine minded
for those who were kind
and not odd
and hard
give them
A AND
MY CHRISTMAS CARD


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So long to Marie

Today we say ‘so long’ to our beloved friend, I have one thing to say, Lord, on her 
behalf.

Lord, you know she loved to laugh, and how spunky she could be.  She kept 
everyone on their toes with one thing or another!  Yet she had her times of 
stillness too.  

You gave her the sense of humor and wit she had ....  By the way, thanks a lot!  
And stories ... my, she could make you belly laugh with her stories!

Remember how blunt she could be, and sharp .... yet she never was cruel or 
hurtful, nor ever meant to be.

She loved to minister to people, sharing Your love with them.  Comforting the 
hurting, encouraging and building up the downhearted.  That was her mission in 
life!

She was so busy, she sometimes wore me out.  But Lord, she was special to 
me!  I thank you for the opportunity to share life with her.  She truly was a blessing!

I ask You, Lord, won’t You please ... prepare a very special place for her?  
Because when she hears that trumpet blow .... and the shout of Your voice .... 
Lord, you are going to have Your hands full!

As we lay her to rest, we do so with this sign over head: ‘A Real Live Wire’ will be 
coming home when called!  So raise the ‘Welcome Home’ banner high, ‘cause 
she’ll be runnin’ full bore!

So long, my beloved friend!  I'll be seeing you again!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Baptism

As I come into Your house, O’ Lord
Prepare my heart to receive
For it is You and You alone I seek to find

Let my heart be pure
My intentions well meant
And my steps guided by You

May my spirit sing a song of joy
For it wells over within
As I go beneath the water

Accept me now O’ Lord
For I am giving my all to You
As I rise up from the deep
Wash away all that is impure

For I come to Your house 
In humility and honor
Seeking You and You alone
It is You I long to know


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Winds of Your Voice

Let the winds of Your voice blow across the vastness of the earth, O Lord Reaching all that would hear, listening to the words, hastening it’s message Feel the breath of God blow across your face, people ... how can you not! See the many splendors of His work, majestic in their beauty Taste the sweetness of His words, they are life sustaining to you Without them you shall surely die an everlasting death Glory in His righteousness! For He is worthy of your praise He is the Alpha and Omega, nothing exists without Him My eyes long to see His face, my heart to kneel at His feet May each breath I take be that which He has given He is wonderful, mighty, loving and jealous Longing for us to come to Him on our own accord We are not His puppets, but we are his children He longs to give His children great gifts of life Would we not let Him be our Father, are we an ignorant people? He has given so much for us, can we not give ourselves to Him?


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Eighteenth Fabel

 Eighteenth Fabel 
 
Eighteenth Fabel 
 

 



Praising Jesus 

 

CharlaXFabels 



Wondering uncertain from one day to the next working for survival never needing 
any rest building no foundation that has not already been prelaid but marching to 
my final curtain on the strength of HIS shed blood on the price of life HE paid. 
Rude self centered people all day long are teaching me a path not connected to 
my song the love inside of me is taken when they stride in perfect ignorance they 
glide on oily fingertips like some forgotten hide left in the center of a hunting 
camp with maggots all at work no one can use the hide for clothing no one can 
make it work. Suddenly remembered pain of death intended oh Jesus take me 
make me whole and well and keep them all away from me the naked and the 
dead they rise in misery to foster they beliefs upon a lame and morose figure a 
aged creature just as eye am beneath a clouded sky no moon is visible no sun 
but sonshines down on me today and life is hard and life is stirring in the clay. 
Devoid of Human life they are only interested in the personal perspective seeing 
nothing but the end of own nose and looking down it at others prose. 

Society of man is living in ignorance and darkness no hope but the grave 
atheists and deists marking time by taking up worthless spaces meant for 
others to occupy if you cannot do the work assigned to you get up and let 
someone else try the end is near oh GOD the end will come too soon for some 
of them. A half remembered song about the lyrics sung you cannot petition the 
LORD with Prayer? Yes eye can and hopefully it's there the Thorny Crown 
replaced with silver gold and brass or just the light that shines from Inside place 
of GOD? 

Not meant to ever resemble money not meant to be much more than love. He 
kept the life. He Loves. Jesus Lives. He Rules and as he Rules HE loves. 


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3Fabel6

 3Fabel6 
3Fabel6 
 
SPIDDERPartTwo 
 
Mercurious People 
 
The Charlaxandroidoneseven is eating solid food fuel for brain we fear here on 
Mercury in the pit that he will soon discover a way to BORDOGOEL us. Bordogoel 
is a magical word on Mercury it means much the same on Earth imagine me the 
Charlax one standing in the spidder and hitting them with BORDS. Quickly eye 
donned my Lone Stranger Mask and shot the BORD at all the mercurious aleins 
in the mines of Mercury in the lines of the spidder.  BORD DO GO EL the 
transliteration means hitting aleins with BORDS. The extra sensory perceptive 
that eye am can see the aleins design it's nothing more than webbing on a 
spidder plan. The younger one is missing the middle tartar needs a friend no 
one cares for wrestling it is fake. 
Fighting is for niggardly cowards to prove themselves a man. 
Splinters of the alien creatures fall from the SKY of the moon and confuse the 
Martians who came to visit them. BOOM BOOM BOOM. 
Food is eliminated from the body weather you eat fruit meat or decay. Some 
people in Franco land only eat spaghetti with the bread no meat no saucy kisses 
no mixers no bad drinks no sugar in my coffee no sugar in  my tee shirts wear 
much longer under vest than at first eye had assumed a shape of fortune smiled 
the latter day saint that eye become the alien killer the Charlaxone. Stay tuned 
gentile reader ewe for part three in the series of this science fiction exceptional 
Fabel in the Book of CharlaxFabels. 


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A Seagull's Salute

My dear mother always had a fondness for seagulls.
I don't know why, we lived far from the sea...
The day of her funeral, as the hearse circled the block of our home, 
An old American custome hardly done anymore...
I was quite schocked to see a seagull overhead slowly looping as an airplane on 
parade...
Near fifty years, and I'd never seen one locally,
Food for thought.


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Kitchen Perfume

To me, the sense of smell
Is very potent, and brings back memories....
Coffee brewing, pancakes, pasta sauce,
Baking meats, frying bacon...
And the very best, fresh baked, from scratch, bread.
Heavenly it makes the whole house,
and worth the hours of work involved...
These things are gone for me,
But in my memory.
So if ou cook for your family,
But you're awful tired too,
Remember you're building memories,
They'll always have of you.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Wind Mountain


High above the horizon
rises your form of gray Zion.
Shawls of majestic boughs
of evergreens.

The ground covered with pine needles
the essence of nature blows in the wind.
Serene Silence evolves here in Mother Nature.

Ray fingers from the spirit sun, dance
caressing the heartbeats of brown earth.
The small mountain variety of flowers,
bloom and flourish in this rich soil.

I sit quietly and mediate,
I am one with the rolling
streams, floral bounty, winds,
that toil on this mountain.

Here on Wind Mountain I come to
the great spirit in the heavens,
one as a child of his creation.



 I am always drawn to nature and spiritual inspiration in the end. For me when the world
seems cruel and overbearing to live within I withdraw to the Creators Zion.


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Recipe for a Full Life

Start with a healthy dose of morning prayer,
Nourish yourself on God's Word

Add a heaping of love and compassion,
a dash of self-control and diligence

Mix together well, and refresh yourself,
Continue this several times during your day

Add a splash of the Holy Spirit for essence
This brings comfort and peace when & where needed

Claim the blood of Jesus when feeling ill or under attack
IT IS the ultimate strength you will ever experience

Be sure to distribute forgiveness, humbleness and God's truth
As needed throughout your day

Give thanks for everything, make everything you do, 
Show Him to the world, spread joy to as many as possible

Be confident in who you are, and to whom you belong
Make His will for your life, your life's ambition

Love as you are loved, without hesitation
Love with unconditional love, not judging one another

At the end of your day, when your work is done
Give God the glory for the strength He has given

At the close of the day, pray for another one to come
That you may do His will according to His direction for your life

(Repeat this daily until the Lord's return)


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Corner-Stoned

Bowing down for this subtle borrow in trade, 
My head just pounds with an ache just throbbing away.
My thoughts gathered and crunched with a million bits and pieces of the obvious.
But lots of unnoticed empty space!
You are there and I am here. 

Calculating, analyzing and specifying such fine details that are completely misplaced.
Never bending and never-ending our minds spin wheels like bulked bails of rolling hay.
If I shouldn’t, then I couldn’t, and if I couldn’t, then I wouldn’t.
But I’d never say that I didn’t outrun that race.
Angled in time leaning straight forward with those hands turning mine,

I’m catching up to our dawning of today.
The Sun has risen above our dark blanketed night.
Taking the shadows that linger with my soul’s final debate,
The Moon stands corner-stoned guarding glares that glow over darkness,
Veiling off your sights that radiate!
You say this and I say that.
But a compromise is far from this archer’s perfect aim targeting at my hindsight.

You’re always right, 
But so am I justifying boundaries to your realistic reasoning for my analyzed why.
Following you, following me,
We are all that we will ever be.
My night becomes the next day and your day becomes the next night.
Like spinning merciless on a merry-go-round,
My own mind has to question the who, what, and where am I.
Challenged by my own self-defeat, 
I’m corner-stoned with so many of those that have lost to a forgotten lie.
Defeated by my own self-lack to compete, 
You’re corner-stoned with so many years of albeit, 
So I’ll defy and you justify!

® Registered: Ann Rich   2002


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Undying Love

As I was sitting Here Just contemplating about us, I 
found myself totally loving you unconditional, fully 
and completely. I cant wait for the moment to come when
im finally able to gaze into you're beautiful loving 
eyes and fully express all of my love for you. In Which
I harbor inside of me. On that Day I'll Gently kiss you
upon your sweet sensual Lips and tenderly enfold you 
within my loving arms and ever so softly whisper into
Your ear all of my hearts piece of mind,so that you'll
know within your heart, your mind, your body and soul 
that I really do love You and I'll never ever let 
You go...never!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I AM sufficient

Why have you not lifted your voice to Me?
Why have you not called out to Me?

Do you think you can do it on your own?
Do you enjoy your struggle through difficulties?

I AM sufficient 
I AM the one who can lift the burden from you
I AM the one who can replace tears of sorrow
with tears of joy

I AM your Provider
I AM your Healer
Your Comforter
Your All in All

I AM sufficient 
For all your needs
All your desires
I AM the LORD your GOD

I AM sufficient


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Reigning!

Your love is reigning down on me.
I feel, with each drop,
The cleansing and soothing
Of my very soul.

You know what Your child
Needs before even I know.

How deep is Your love for me?
It touches the depth of my soul,
It sees the thoughts 
I fear to admit even having.

And yet, knowing all my darkness,
You still love me.

You are remarkable!
You are so full of mercy
And so faithful in Your love for me.
How can I ever love You so?

I fear the thought of not having Your love.
I am terrified to not have Your forgiveness!

Even at my best, I fall short.
Only by You Lord, can I say 
I am loved and forgiven.
And I know in my heart You live
Because You live, I have these things.

I fear nothing with You near me.
Your child rejoices with gladness

For the mercies of Your love.
Lord, I love You with My whole being.
Take my life and make it what You want
While I journey through this life
Reign down on me


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Winter of our lives

In the winter of our lives, as we are lain to our final rest
We rest with generations from long ago
As time goes on and it comes to the day
That Christ returns, we will rise up to meet Him
With generations of past, meeting those of present
What a glorious day that will be!

Can you imagine? The skies filled with His glory …
The earth witnessing His majestic power …
As angels … and the children of God, 
Sing in loud jubilation ... loud jubilation!
Of Christ Jesus’ return.
All of heaven sings out His name!

I fear not the winter season of my life
With great anticipation of the joy to come
I long for that day, to see His face …
To stand in His presence … to reign with Him
FOREVER in my Father’s house!
Until that time arrives, I live my life for Him!
Today and always until my time of rest.


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Enough to Know

It is true I've dreamed many dreams that never came true. 
I watched them vanish when dawn came through. 
But I've realized enough of my dreams 
so I continue to dream on. 

In my life, I've prayed many prayers, 
when no answers came; 
I wanted to be patient and long 
enduring. 
Enough answers came through from my prayers 
that I still to this day keep praying. 

I trusted many a person would call themselves friends 
who failed and left me alone and weeping, 
But through it all I gleamed enough friends 
so true to keep me trusting on. 

I've sown many a seed that fell by 
the way. 
The foul of the air found food in day 
I seen enough bountiful fields from my hands 
that keeps me sowing on. 

I've sipped from the cup of disappointment 
and pain I've drained many a day no joyful song. 
Still I've sipped enough nectar from the sweetness 
of life to make me want to live on. 

I've learned in my life that the love we give to others.,
that keeps coming back for more of the tenderness ,
and compassion the friendship and relations 
that keeps us all going on. 


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Blessings

Blessings flow unending…
Daily we have them,
Some we see
Some we don’t

There are those we appreciate 
While others we could do without

Thankfully, God knows
What we truly need
More so than we…

That even those blessings
We would rather not have
He can and will use to bless us abundantly
If we accept and allow

I want all the blessings to flow
Unending from God above


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Flames of Mystery

Today I walk with eyes wide open
into the mysteries far beyond this
horizon.

Yesterday I watched two ancient
flames mold and burn from the same
horizon.

Within my heart dances a secret fire
which ignites my way to the place
of twin flames.

In my darkness I perhaps have given
you a light to the path of bliss.
Not easily split are the two of us,
being self and one as we are.

In a cocoon we both evolve,
waiting for the gravitational spiral
of true love to reunite.

Two flames with poetic sway,
frolic in the break of day.
Even on different ends of
the universe.

Twine is those two topaz flames,
wrapped in rose diamond glitter.
Awaiting the eternal heavens call
to home it will always be two flames
one being and self.