Siddhis or powers on us may be bestowed,
just as petals open of a blooming rose
but addiction to allurements is best stowed,
that poised in stillness and dwelling in repose,
we see there’s no purpose in tweaking the dream,
which in duality does endlessly stream,
save for the purpose of sharing love and light,
as a beacon of hope in darkness of night.
please
tell me truths
that you hold inside
which no one else has heard
is it greed, to beg for this part of you?
to wish for something no other has had
to want all of you
perhaps, its important to know,
you already have all of me
i dont say this for fairness
and never for the sake of trade
it is more than that
hold it as safety, as promise
you already have all of me
and i only want to give you more
i dont ask for the purpose of return
and as i lay against you by the river,
pressed by the cold and dark,
but warmed by your stars and shaky laughs
i just want to say
through each orbit and rotation
im here, and i always will be
They (the Legacy media) persist in their use of deceptive practices with the intent to obfuscate what is true. They conveniently avoid facts, that are known, intending to mislead those who are superficially engaged.
The freedoms granted to the media by our constitution, as intended, was for the protection of the masses against rogue governments and or political abuses.
However principled the intentions of our forefathers in granting this freedom of the press, they would most certainly be appalled by the ongoing, intentional distorting of what is true, and what is currently being disseminated to the public by the majority of legacy media.
Today's abundance of available media sources, for those who seek what's true, only adds to the confusion and mistrust of this information. The media's use of their platforms to promote an agenda, or for the purpose of propaganda to benefit a political party or political outcome, is exactly why we are no longer,
(United States)!
A very rich man, not the one who springs to mind
likes to leave behind as many children as he can
Clearly, it would be wrong to have an affair with so many women, almost immoral, where emotions disturb the proceedings, therefore, artificial insemination is used
The rich man is in a sterile room, masturbating into a tube, the result he hands to a flunky who carries the result into another room where the business is done, but sometimes things go wrong and he has to repeat, for this there is a stack of pornographic pictures he can look until he get an ******** suitable for the purpose
Sometimes a baby girl is born, which he accepts but would rather have boys; he aims to have thirty children and hopes there is no mishap generations ago giving him a child of the wrong race. Should this happen, he will not despair, but happily point out he is not a racist
Who knows
how many
layers
over
generations
have been
used.
Sprayed on,
and caked on,
and smeared on
thick
for the purpose
of covering
the truth.
Oh ye who
through the ages
have done this,
though
your layers
be deep,
know this -
that the truth
will break though.
Not a thing
you can do.
For all
of the truth
is his.
Ever love a one
and she loves so
Ever love a woman
and you love her
As she is her essence, her soul
Never ever thinking about her body
Nothing physical
She so I love
She says she loves me
Yet doesn't want to be a wife
I say that I love her
I want to provide, be still
Be ever in her life
Ever love a one
and she loves so
Ever love a woman
And you love her
As she is her essence, her soul
We both have the same heavenly Father
All she once to be though is for me to just be her brother
So God knows the purpose for our life
Am I to be her forever "Brother"
Or is she to be my "Wife"
To God be the Glory, for the purpose in Our life
Husband and Wife or Sister and Brother
One or both shall be our purpose
For He chooses and allows what's right
1/17/25
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr. 2025©
Lanccelot went thro' the lists ticking off heads,
lost count of how many that he'd had in his beds,
handing a garter to the queen was wrong gender,
although he supposed that she could return to sender.
That brat Ivanhoe often arrived to spoil the party,
anyway with that demeanour he just looked tarty;
different generations linked them historically together,
so check your history, it really happened, don't say never.
For the purpose of this treatise - make it the same time,
have you never felt that someone was a friend of mine;
imagine that you were illegal, perhaps free for all later,
who programmed you and where was the instigator?
How would you have coped thro' - thought not quite right,
he was tired of body checking and fancied an early knight.
Lies deeply in thy self conscious thought
that one's thinking could control the souls
matter allowing one's self to be opened
purely for the purpose of being here thus not
being judged the excitement for another being
to yearn the pleasure of your passion to be
absorbed in a place that can't fit your soul
and mine so crowd thinking crowded beliefs
infiltrates the soul with out touching how
than do we destroy the living environment of
one's self how than do we leave lessons
learned and at the same time be defeated by
the envy to know some one else's soul
herein the way we love the way we live shall
capture a none existing soul of terror a soul
so blatenly covered in desire and pain
all of who we are comes before the knowledge
of Moses if we allow one of us to have the
word and freely so unselfishly speak it
Written by Yolanda Nicholsen May 14 2004 Fort Myers Florida my sons high school graduation day 7 months after my brain injury suffering with traumatic headaches and alienation from affection I couldn't stop writing my brain was fighting to live sparks were flying so I wrote all day.
Poetry is so very special
it has such an illuminating effect
grabbing one's heart so clear
inspiring one to fully select
It's craft leaves many options
indeed one can adopt various styles
so much scope to experiment
for the pen to flow many a mile
I write for the purpose of calm
leaving all my anxieties behind
becoming very therapeutic inwardly
makes my inner soul feel so kind
Poetry is absolutely an art
portraying one's skill to the full
using all of the English language
to explain all your mind tools
I absolutely love to rhyme
it has a magic of its own
having such inspiration and joy
brings real beauty out of my stone!
In the shadows, harpies linger as agents provocateur,
for the Fallen Watchers, for pecking order.
Prostitute mercenaries,
addicted to mercury and disorder.
Their claws sharp, their cries a shiver,
their motive insanity from hell's hateful quiver.
They pluck you from the light of day,
leave you in the flames to barter the fray,
to drown in the sea of faith no more.
Till nightfall,
where they tend the fires of a black wind,
poking signal lures,
preying for entropic thunder,
and romantic moon,
lyres to ascend your spirit
for the purpose of dropping you again
in despairs pit and swoon.
Denoting your abandonment and seclusion,
shoeing the fit,
wild horses couldn't drag them away.
Hoping to find you behind chaos's fire-line,
enemy mine,
a broken rhyme-
not asKing for a new day;
a soul adrift, in a sea of doubt,
no compass, no sails, no wind,
no faith, "tag you're it, hide your eyes and don't count."
on being saved from the fade to black
from grey lack of faith.
It feels kind of like someone gave me a drug,
mixed for the purpose of stamping out love.
Slipped like a Mickey when I was away.
Slammed down the hatch and now all I can say
is, "I don't know why I feel nothing at all."
Head like a hammer straight into the wall.
Black coat of tar dripping straight from my heart.
Struggle for breath while still acting the part.
Things that I’ve relished no longer seem fun.
Trapped in a cycle but still on the run.
Live for a purpose without any goals.
Watching it slip away as I get old.
Talks with myself and with all who will hear.
None seem to understand and so I fear,
I'm destined to fall, then perhaps they will learn
I was next in line… and 'twas simply my turn.
The Capitulation of the Guardian
Surrender to our fate
Empathy selling me fear crying causing me misery
Is it poison that caught my eye today
Can't I live without floating on a boat in the sea
Diamonds are forever made in the acceptance and free speech
The tear in the fabric of life nowhere to be found
This lonesome town gonna get you down
For the purpose of more than one chair
Is they're More and More in life than this cartoon
The access of drugs without it being a total drag
Opening doors to different parts of my mind
If we could learn to get beyond the insecurities of life.
Too be a finisher of this project called Earth.
Back to the machine
To the Galaxies and different Universes something never seen before
The knowledge to gain the birth of our brain
We people will screw up just like we know it'll rain
Back to the machine
We can save this planet and be what we were born for
More than procreate but less than gods who sit to judge
Do not disturb the message from above
You can knock but you can't come in
Our Rivers flow blood to our heart
The last grip we have and a damn
Good place to start
But stay back from the machine
To pray is a wonderful response
to every challenge comes your way
for God listens to what we speak
when we come sincerely to pray
God wants us to cover all
whatever's our need, just ask
for He owns all the cow's
on every hill, there's no cover mask
Wherever we may be found
at home, in town, or on a walk
God's ears are openly available
so we can utter our concerns to talk
Even in the middle of the night
if we can't sleep being awake
the Lord is all power within
so pray always for His name's sake
The state of our world is grave
calls for us to constantly pray
for it needs God's perfect peace
to stop war and conflict in our day
(This is written for the purpose of looking at the value and accessibility of prayer for everyone as we all need to be praying for our world and the state its in.)
I now walk my pace
For it is surprisingly my master ace
I don’t rush myself to fatigue
I now reckon whatever is out of my league
I don’t slow down to accommodate
Lest I’m doomed to suffer obvious fate
But that my journey be for a reason
And that my arrival be in season
I cease to be anyone
I seek to be someone
A solitary kind for the purpose of God’s Will
Graced with particular favor and skill
If ever I tread a course not trodden before
I lean on God’s wisdom to open every door
Then I will not look and envy another man’s work
That I may work my work and make my mark
Of all men who became at birth
Few are remembered that walked the earth
For many are lured by the world
Upright men twisted, bent and curled
Forming the deplorable sight we see
Chocked and intimidated from what could be
And that is why I must be me
As I also implore thee to be thee
K. Muitherero.
Written: September 24, 2023
_________________________________________________________
I care, I search, for the spark of divinity,
That resides within every soul's vicinity.
In the eyes of a child, so innocent and pure,
I descry the answer, as simple and sure.
In the embrace of a loved one gentle and warm,
I find the solace that can weather any storm.
In the laughter of friends, so joyful and bright,
I decry the link that bestows everything right.
I care, I search, for the meaning of life,
For the purpose that transcends all strife.
In the depths of my heart, a quest unveiled,
To grasp mysteries that have long prevailed.
Through mountains high and valleys low,
I journey on, letting my curiosity grow.
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