The Christian believer is fully blessed
having been called a child of God
knowing you are privileged above all
from the heart, praise to shed abroad
Consider deeply God's love for us
those who have sinned in every way
but yet God still shows us His great love
a perfect love that won't ever go away
This love moves God to redeem
His chosen people to be His very own
which took Jesus, God's son, to Calvary
to shed His own blood, our sin to atone
This redemption takes us even higher
to be with Jesus in His exalted state
as His priests forever in His kingdom
bringing glory to God at heaven's gate
Loved, redeemed and exalted
this is God's blessed picture
to His saints on this earth
revealing God's permanent fixture
("and from Jesus Christ, who is the faithful witness, and the first begotten of the dead, and the prince of the kings of the earth. Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, 6and hath made us kings and priests unto God and his Father; to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen. ")
Revelation 1: 5-6 (KJV)
strangely for you, i am yours.
odd defiance of the greatest,
my body craving what your hunger lay.
trace my ache with your warmth,
fiercely dissolve it under your tongue.
wishes upon the stars
on the river where dogs bathe,
wailed in agony within this realm
this realm of your embrace
i do love you, i do unravel
like fixtures of the skylight burning my skin,
a ticket to the sun in itself as a gift
undiscovered
—
tragically for you, i am yours.
screams of agony under the willow tree,
bled into the snow covered ground.
darts of misfortune piercing your skin,
fixed towards your unbroken fixture.
frightening darkness fleeting above you,
all the stars have died along with your last breath.
spontaneous lament sprayed among the graveyard,
built for your gracious grieving.
you do love, you do unravel.
heavenly kiss from above,
travelled around the sun in search for your lips
discovered
bicycle Bert was a fixture in this small Iowa town
We waved to him and yelled happy thoughts, all around.
Bert rode his bike in parades, all decorated and such.
The town truly loved this unique individual, very very much.
Gratitude, a mental notion,
The soul’s healing potion
A daily habit, a practice so true
Seeding joy and peace anew.
With thankful heart and focused mind,
A world of blessings our heart to divine.
Every moment, major or minor,
Is a chance to make the practice finer
Sunrise, sunset, or firmament of stars,
Laughter, tears, even healing scars.
The birds that sing and clouds that dance,
Provide us with yet another chance.
Gratitude, a balm for our pains,
A way to break the past’s cold chains.
It lifts us up, it instills true peace,
A formula for stress’ release.
So let our mind be full aware,
And live life with a grateful air.
For gratitude, the soul’s elixir,
Should forever be our heart fixture.
Painting a picture,
Without any scripture,
Soon to be a permanent fixture.
A mixture of all types of things,
I'm excited to see what it brings.
Feel the colors sing,
Timelines condensing,
Closing,
Superimposing,
Shadows showing,
Dimensions are growing,
Bestowing stroke after stroke.
Adding in a little joke,
You're never broke,
Take a little toke,
Poke the bear,
Stay aware,
Prepare for a new medium.
As life hands you them,
Premium products of perfection,
Placing them for your selection,
As you choose each direction,
Painting a reflection of life's projection.
A fixture of grief,
anchored where memory splits.
The quest unfolds in fog—
no path, just pulses
of unease mimicking direction.
Every thought incurs penalty.
Fear taxes breath.
Dread rewrites the map
before the journey begins.
An unseen impact
knocks the axis off center—
consciousness spirals,
fractured, repeating.
Focus becomes a casualty.
There are voices,
but they speak only in sanctions.
No comment.
No deviation.
No witness.
Even breath becomes strategic—
withheld, rationed,
used to mask retreat.
I speak in silence now.
Each word I don't say
becomes another wound
I have to learn to live around.
Lost in the maze, my mind's in a whirl,
Heart bound by chains, my life in despair.
Mom says she's trying, but I keep stumbling,
Yet I push everyone away who tries to share.
Dad's belief in me feels distant,
Sister struggles to understand my pain.
But why do I persist this way,
Am I doomed to feel the same?
And when I want to cry, I fight the tears,
Afraid of being weak, I lock it all away.
It's like the monsters hiding under the bed,
Devouring my soul, leaving me hollow
And my mind feels lost, a never-ending desert,
But I'm still here, though I feel so alone,
Told those around me I'm fine, despite the truth,
I agree with those who cause me pain,
As if I deserve the scars they left behind,
Unsure of what lies ahead or who I'll become.
Sometimes I wonder if this is my destiny,
The chains around my heart a permanent fixture,
Or if there's a chance for me to truly live,
Beyond the shadows of regrets and despair.
But for now, I carry the weight of my burdens,
Unseen by the world, trapped in my own labyrinth.
History is history drawn by observation to attract
Up and down motion
The thought of the old Dinosaur Escalators at Macy’s Herald Square
The old fossil’s still work
It gets Macy’s customers from selling floor to selling floor
They still work for sure
I know, I worked at the Macy’s Herald Square Tower for 38 Years on the 13th Floor of the Corporate Executive Office
Those old escalators were established since Macy’s Herald Square was built in brick and mortal
I can assure you I am not a fixture, and wasn’t around when Macy’s Herald Square was put together
Let’s just say I made history working for Macy’s, but I could be considered a Legend
However, I was around during the real MIRACLE ON 34th of the
MACY’S and GIMBEL’S era
The old escalators are still in effect and they have history of their own
No mystery
The old escalators are tour attractions to see in being accompanied in Macy’s Herald Square past and current of old and new.
I always say I have dog ears
they are rather wolf ears
I hear things others do not notice
the blowing fan of an air register irritates me
in the morning I wake to the neighbor’s rooster
or a large garbage truck rumbling up the road
my dogs barely hear these things,
continuing their relaxing slumber.
tingles of a ticking clock bug me
whereas no one else notices them
I can barely concentrate if someone is tapping
right now there is a noise I cannot pinpoint
It seems to permeate the air
it is one of those sounds unnoticeable to other humans
but I have wolf ears
I sit here, irritated, trying to decipher it
It might be a light fixture or a hum of a refrigerator
I cannot type another word, trying to sit in silence
begging for silence, which never comes
because I have wolf ears.
Brown, terrifying, evoking horror.
It sleeps for winter: windless plus serene.
Eminently powerful explorer,
Now juddered in its reflective routine.
Winter’s wild violence ends—spring does chime;
ferocity dwindles, some circumvent.
The cold soldier concludes its trimonth prime.
From it, the brown furry does supplement .
It’s Melursus Ursinus, so you see.
Spring is discernible in this fixture,
Yet the evil monster lurks, winter’s free.
Flowers plus evil combined in mixture:
Virtue with vile, well known rugged tension
Good mixed with evil, whole there’s to mention
ADAGIO
Do not ask why sad music is slow
Reverence should never be rushed
For those memories looking back
A certain thoughtfulness is correct
Allowing remembrance and respect
For all that has now faded to black
And all voices that now are hushed
Yet the river Styx continues to flow
I can’t turn back the hands of time
As our lives must all now move on
Embracing tomorrow not yesterday
Feelings can be seen in many guises
Face a future with its own surprises
Autumn leaves all get blown away
What’s to come, not what has gone
Even if sounding like complex rhyme
There’s always the room for a smile
Grim expressions can’t last for long
Despite whatever the heart may feel
Sadness is not a permanent fixture
We are each made up as a mixture
If the day is cloudy, at least it is real
An occasional look back isn’t wrong
So, remember, if just for a little while
I am sure she is awake from her nap, my daughter said.
I ran up to get her; she is two and dazzlingly beautiful.
She is my granddaughter, Molly Mackenzie Cat.
I changed her pants and brought her downstairs.
After her snack I gave her the toy I had brought.
She was not any more interested than a light fixture.
She will find something to play with, my daughter assured me.
Molly crawled over to a shoebox and pulled out some tissue paper.
She giggled as she shook it and ripped it.
Acted like it was the most fascinating thing she had ever seen.
I marveled that something so simple can entertain a two-year-old.
Next time I will bring her a box with a couple of crackers.
He did not know he was a creepy unknown fey
He crept through the meadow every day
Miniature brownie boy with eyes of crystal blue.
Wearing a hat of goose down, butterfly wings too
His furry legs got wet in the dew, but he kept going.
He would have to find a hideout when it started snowing.
Children chased him a couple of times and got his picture.
In this gorgeous meadow of flowers he was a regular fixture.
Heart, in two places at a time
At times, it is the gravest crime
Its waves leave a broken future
And young souls that thirst for nurture
For shattered hearts, there's no fixture
Like a ship sailing on two seas
In playing fire, there's no peace
Its shadows echo in the mind
It makes then pure heart deaf and blind
And the then caring, so unkind
Before you give your heart away
Make sure your mind will go to stay
Your heart and mind, being at one
To not regret things you've done
More so, when your fairness was gone
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