God is the law over the nature of the Universe.
God's order of things is great and diverse.
God is timeless in his sense of being.
God is not of the temporal succession of existence in his laws of decreeing.
God's measurement of time is perfect in his creations.
God's force is in the fullness of divine interpretation.
God created a fine tune in physicists of energy and spiritual continuity.
God's amazing ingenuity.
God's creations are the reflection of his Glory.
The wonderment of his handiwork tells his story.
THE ACTOR
He in his life had played so many parts
Enriched them with beguiling vocal essence
Those icons wrought: of such an incandescence
They still excite a lifting of our hearts
Yet with a sadness that he was beset
Averring that, save characters deployed
Down deep within lay nothing but a void
That he was but a hollow marionette
But there he had unwittingly perceived
A fundamental truth of our true being
We can assert a part in life decreeing
We are not merely what is preconceived
A character compelled by rods and strings
Requires direction by a puppeteer
He who plays a part may yet the drama steer
Breath life into a role, and give it wings
If given choice: to be of nature planned
With form determined by another mind
Or take multiple parts to be refined
I choose the patterns drawn by my own hand
The being that we are and give credential
Is not a cast of clay manipulation
But godlike spirit blessed to make creation
A void with an unlimited potential
She sat on my bed, red mouth scattering.
Drinking my smoke and comfort.
I was dancing diet pill, with ear buds.
Pestering on my shoulder,
was her dead lovely.
I, am smell of sometimes,
Her, a voice of flavor on the tip.
A whisper of fever,
In her caves,of poor light.
Desire is focused in holes in ceiling tiles,
Ear into eyes, unable to divert.
Her wisdom , a days mock frolic,
Shutting down my nervous faculties.
Feeling small in her Uni-verse,
Mime tracing her outline,
Stubbornly secret,in her intent,
The words flint for wanting.
Adaptation the influence,
No one wants to see,
I loving a soul, be for ********.
In the moment stunned by her pristine.
Her works she read,
I realized consumed,
The famine mentor, critiquing me rightly,
Charring to a birth within.
And to give shine to an apple,
In her decreeing eye,
I became a heroin's lover,
Microsoft Zen for months.
Regretting I wrote weak-soft,
Now to coffee and wanting it bitter black,
Muse subservient to her a speaking fantasy,
As her red mouth scattered.
(for Silva)
When a feeling is deep within your soul,
A sadness so prolific it begins to rot a hole,
Loneliness lingers like a dark cloud,
The words remain unspoken from you aloud,
The fear of judgement surrounds your being,
The voices of paranoia commanding and decreeing,
Unable to flee your muddled minds manipulation,
You have no choice but to bow to the voices damnation,
Dragged deeper into a mental vortex of darkness,
Shadows lurk awaiting to take advantage of your inwardness,
Procrastinating becomes your only capability,
Self worth, depression, anxiety ruin your minds stability,
Before you no it your trapped in a cycle off gloom,
It slowly closes in creating an all consuming tomb,
Now your trapped in your own minds labyrinth,
How do you escape an emotional counterfeit,
With no exit.
Echoes of Their Eternity
When angels fly the essence of their being are fruitfully freeing
With their frugal fluorescence beaming and sight forever seeing
Their hearts thumping thunder moving skies with blinding eyes
In an ethereal ecstasy of wonder, they arise with a winking wise
A love of paradisiacal pouring like waterfalls from heaven’s halls
Servants of serenity soaring amidst the seagulls spiraling sprawls
Compounding compassion, they observe with parental preserve
To their masters' mansion with a spinning swerve a sacred serve
~~~
This absolute angelic soul from many a mile and seraphical smile
Stirring of the soup bowl with stunning style and feminine fertile
With a heart of gold in our meeting upon a fortuitous foreseeing
Her love tenfold in life’s meaning a dimensional divine decreeing.
June.11.2018
Qualities You Admire in Friends
Sponsored by: Carolyn Devonshire
As I look at this empty Pew, I can't help but miss you
I thought of you in a special way, realizing you did not come here to stay
you took to heaven's airway.
Declaring a Hat at Rest.
Remembering and honoring you so well
you had to answer Heaven's Bell
You are the best of the best
The only reason your hat is at rest, I can attest
because you are resting safely in his arms.
Declaring a Hat at Rest.
The crown that you received from the Lord, has been next to your sword
This crown will be the best you have worn, it will never be outgrown
full of gold, diamonds, rubies, and jewels, my grief it has fueled
Enjoy your crown, you've past life test
Declaring a Hat at Rest.
Can't be with you now, but I will see you soon for death, I am not immune
You traded hats for crowns, smiles for frowns, and brims for wings
and so many other things
Declaring!!! Decreeing!!! a Hat at Rest.
I am the way that I am but it does not define me
I am a child an adolescent released from captivity
I am the brick to a wall
I am the sail on a sail big and tall
I am here this time to tell it all
I am better than I use to be
I am free
I am the anti that put bullying to shame
I am the corner who hears badgering some one's name
I am dedicated to stand when I want to fall
I am who I am I except the call
I am to speak loud and clear
I am the drum beating in the ear
I am the canal of surf and wind
I am have found a heart to mend
I am the needle with thread
I am to stitch a circle put shame to bed
I am that I am and here I am
I am the one who stands
I am the one who never was denied
i am have been talked about and lied
i am the one who was wearing a mask to
i am here to tell the truth
I am help at this time if need
I am sits here and I am is free
Go forth and spread the good news,
We are unchained.
Our hands are free to do as they
please.
Peace be with you,
And peace be among you.
There is a light that feels better
Than all the other lights.
The feeling is a decreeing of invited love
Towards all others.
Harder than pushing a train, I know.
But I am here only for you.
Give me all your pain.
Let us squeeze laughter out of it.
Have All Been in Heaven
While wondering where all the time went,
Asked God to graciously give me a hint;
Might be near well when I was wishing
Or times you found me to be fishing.
Throughout life poems have been writing;
Were great and by Queen she was knighting;
A Poet Laureate want to end up being
Title on me by President be decreeing.
Made deal with God after I did wrangle;
Make me become a bright, new angel;
Have everyone in heaven start to rejoice;
Vast improvements were applied to my voice.
My fingers, forever flew through the air,
Writing beautiful poems beyond compare;
God read them not finding anything wrong,
And each one became an unbelievable song.
There is Presley, Porter and Charlie Pride,
And Rich and Ritter romping right beside,
Wagging their tails and singing slick songs;
Now are all in heaven where each one belongs.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Faith defines being
As His Glory you are seeing
In so decreeing
The Muse
She sat on my bed, red mouth scattering.
Drinking my smoke and comfort.
I was dancing diet pill, with ear buds.
Pestering on my shoulder,
was her dead lovely.
I, am smell of sometimes,
Her, a voice of flavor on the tip.
A whisper of fever,
In her caves,of poor light.
Desire is focused in holes in ceiling tiles,
Ear into eyes, unable to divert.
Her wisdom , a days mock frolic,
Shutting down my nervous faculties.
Feeling small in her Uni-verse,
Mime tracing her outline,
Stubbornly secret,in her intent,
The words flint for wanting.
Adaptation the influence,
No one wants to see,
I loving a soul, be for ********.
In the moment stunned by her pristine.
Her works she read,
I realized consumed,
The famine mentor, critiquing me rightly,
Charring to a birth within.
And to give shine to an apple,
In her decreeing eye,
I became a heroin's lover,
Microsoft Zen for months.
Regretting I wrote weak-soft,
Now to coffee and wanting it bitter black,
Muse subservient to her a speaking fantasy,
As her red mouth scattered.
(for Silva)
I fell asleep
In middle of the night
Or perhaps it was a day
Feigning of the darkness.
There was a beggar
At my tapped door
Begging for a silver spoon
Or perhaps for a pot of gold.
A limpid long life
Like flow of a river
Descending into the dust
Perhaps in harassed fever.
If I was asleep
Who was the other I?
Cajoling, decreeing
Perhaps a child with a dagger
Or a painted being in swagger.
Days come and go
But the sun without a race
Soulful of its luminosity
In a jocund dark space.
I fell asleep
In middle of the night
Or perhaps it was a day
Feigning of the darkness.
There was a beggar
At my tapped door
Begging for a silver spoon
Or perhaps for a pot of gold.
A limpid long life
Like flow of a river
Descending into the dust
Perhaps in harassed fever.
If I was asleep
Who was the other I?
Cajoling, decreeing
Perhaps a child with a dagger
Or a painted being in swagger.
Days come and go
But the sun without a race
Soulful of its luminosity
In a jocund dark space.
He slowly opened the window sash
Deeply breathing the cool morning air
Feeling the warmth of the sunshine
Embracing the morning so completely
Bringing the spark of life to his face
Listening to the sonnets of Warblers
Inside the beauty of a summertime dawn…
Slowly wandering to the Lilac gardens
Resting on the soft greenery tufts
He leaned into the white purple blossoms
Inhaling deep the warm honeyed perfume
Feeling the silk tendrils upon his face
As the pure tiny droplets fell upon him
A baptism in a pergola of morning blooms…
The gentle whisper of Monarch’s in flight
Brought him to his feet in easy chase
Reaching out chasing the sound of flutter
He tumbled down the slope laughing
Laying in the flower bed he reached skyward
Decreeing the miracle of Mother Nature, he said
“I only wish I could see it”…
Eyes of abhorrence…
A hatred of humanity…
Shrilling of silver tongues…
Decreeing noxious mandates
Spurning absolute control…
This recluse contesting…
Hands gripped in bloody fists…
Striking at scarred old men…
Bleeding century old wounds
Pits overflow in battles chaos…
Friend versus friend and foe versus foe…
Exchanging arrows for bullets…
Beating plowshared swords into rifles…
Lead flying in shrapnel burstings…
To “Bring freedom to all mankind”
A prospect dim…
Without success or hope…
Burns the voice of misanthropy
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