"Is it for gods or fate to tell?",
I wonder, as I peer into the wishing well,
and as I sadly sit,
"Or will these same gods, fate admit?
And will the papers say I fell?"
I have a god
made in my image
god shows up in the mirror
awful in wrath
slow to forgive
god has a ponytail
and little patience.
.
.
A song for this:
Phlamethrower by AJJ
Temperatures are high in Héraclée France.
We bear the heat with the triad of grace, ice, shade
and later in the morning, air conditioning.
The sun is as bright as optical illusion,
‘Worship me, worship me,’ it seems to say,
but I will not look up and ruin my eyes.
Besides, if I’m happy, it looks on indifferently.
if I am wilting, it looks on indifferently,
and I’ve already had one God ghost me.
As I stand in the shade of this ancient deity,
The fact that there’s no cosmic care,
implies no cosmic judgment.
I am an impudent little animal, I suppose.
but a deity should make wondrous promises,
not try to fry you like a falafel.
So, as I negotiate heat and meaning-systems,
- all fiery-Sol foreshadows, is a dry and barren liturgy,
emptied of consolation.
.
.
A song for this:
Meet Me In Love by Blossoms
In the kernel..In the buds, in clouds that wreath above, in the timber feel its form
Its with a direction all things are born,
Maybe sometimes you're inclined to go
Against the grain.' Is that not so.? Maybe
A better way is waiting for you.? But from
What iv'e seen its only God ' who'll see ya
Through.'
The stars are not lanterns
hung by gods...
they are observers,
ancient scribes
etching the memory
of the universe
into the dark scroll
of night.
They invite us to wonder,
to dream...
to remember
that we are made
of the same fire
that burns in Orion’s chest
and sleeps
in the cradle
of the Milky Way.
Gods and angels went away
For an indefinite vacation
“We’re mere ideas anyway
Dignified by population”
Says God, who asked not to be named
“Nowadays it turns ridiculous
Politicians took our fame
Made up maliciously fastidious
All the simple laws we set
And this farcical state of affairs
Is the one we must protect
Though the mess they made is theirs
We, Gods, wash our hands of this
Devil’s game the people play
If they want us Gods be missed
Let them pave their hellish way”
Spoke the God, whose name’s not known
But one angel smiled and said
“Here’s my email and my phone
Ping me up if something’s bad..”
So I wrote her phone and email
Down in my book and slept
The wild wind lashed at our sail
All the way to my homeland.
As the early dawn begins its decent upon the morning skies,
A gentle spring breeze nestles HIS creatures much like a early alarm clock, bunnies, squirrels, robins, gather together as HIS loving flock..
Kids begin to gather with their moms loving hand leading them to the tall wildflower, wheat fields, listening for the concert of bird songs, blue jays, morning doves perched upon a weeping willows branch sunbathing in the morning rays..
This day The Lord has made, let us all pause from our crazy busy day, inhale deeply, close our eyes in for only a moment, for HIS creation is conducting a concert of heavenly sounds.
The wind, trees leaves rustling in the early morning breeze, ducks calling their mate searching for food, robins, cardinals, singing HIS praises, let our SOULS empty out their worries, sadness up to the Lord, exhale Joy, HOPE, LOVE…
When in doubt of FAITH, look around us, for GOD is in everything, just open your ears and your heart, you just might be touched by a bird’s magical song.
(in Senryus)
With poetry we
can take God’s gorgeous sunsets
and make them about us.
With poetry, sad
ness isn’t edited for
your convenience
.
.
A song for this:
Born at midnight (every time) by Born At Midnite
Visual pleasuring
Of a more active
And not at rest, dead-looking
Definable sort.
One's lost soul fragments
A traumatized youth's
Sea's, land's wet and wild torments
From out them retrieved?
Or so drawn, for it, so grieved?
Nor that. Least not now!
Quite the opposite. O'er wow
Deities who cavort.
The pews are rows of silent witnesses,
And my mind is a storm of "not enough,"
But the font keeps talking...
isn't a shout from a mountain peak,
Or a list of the ways I’ve been weak.
It’s the breath in my lungs when I’ve lost my own,
The seat at the table where I’m fully known.
Yesterday’s debts are dissolved in the sea,
This is the mercy He’s pouring on me.
Like a wheeping willows long graceful leaves, my sorrows spill out onto the morning dews grass, the wooden kneeler bares my weight, Lord Heavenly Father hear my cries, as I slowly exhale. “Jesus I trust you”, I quietly ask fir your undying Mercy, guide me in my days ahead.
As the sun awakens over the trees
Its beauty shineth upon the jagged sharp rocks lay upon the dry path thirsty for salvation.
Birds too are perched upon a sole tree branch of no leaves to give it color in thus time of spring..no songs of joy no blue skies above as the time of spiritual dryness is upon me.
As I look upon the water of healing, as the rocks are transformed by the rivers current shaping their jagged sides, the birds are beginning to sing, Heavens skies have opened up, a steady sunshine shower soaks us in HIS repentance of GRACE..
As I look up,
A lone eagle has landed in the tree, seeking a resting place as to partake in the feast only GOD can provide, a pike fish sacrificed itself as to feed HIS creatures, as too my SOUL is renewed.
My feet I soak in Christ running brook, for it was by Jesus blood and water that we HIS children must drink and HIS body to live with HIM for eternity..
My life is not mine but For HIM.. I love you Jesus with all my heart.
I deny myself as to carry my Cross and follow YOU.
Its paradise..For those that choose it.'
Eternal seperation for those that loose it.
For the ( predator class! ) maybe they live
With you.? Types Like pope leo epstein mandleson, gates, wexner, andrew, all drew
The shortest straw..Blinded by riches and
Power galore' now the sick-o-phants, who
Once called them elites..Press frantically
On the button delete.' Yet God keeps all the
Tears in a jar.' Of those who were tortured.'
He tells me Ja.! You have read my writes
On the pred-o-viles.' And what did we hear
Epstien advise his (friends erstwhile?) To
molest an innocent girl child.'
Dress as Yeshua..! Now reader you might
Understand.? Gods voice and judge-ment
Are close at hand.!!!!!!!!!
I know I have been faltering
Depression overcame me
I have to repair your altar
And show you kindness,
Like you have done
Oh, to be strong like Thor,
Or fighting against unjust, like Tyr
Or to be wise like Odin
And sit in the walls of Valhalla
But if I die,
I will be fighting.
I will be fighting my own demons
New poem... called God's lessons
If loving you was my lesson
And my temptation
Then why would God ever allow me
To experience all of this
Now my notebooks are filled with memories
And words of emotions that I thought were impossible
The pain and trauma
Are written in blue and black ink
If loving you was my lesson and my temptation
Then why would God ever allow me
To experience any of this
Poems and songs fill pages of my life
Some upbeat and others filled with pain and sadness
The thought that loving someone so hard
Could eventually bring someone close
Close to ending one's life is crazy
The lessons,well they took forever
Forever to realize
I gave to much of myself to others
Others that never deserved it
If loving you was my lesson and my temptation
Then why would God
Ever allow me to experience any of this
I exposed the real uncut version of ME
I got burned
Left unread
Just ghosted.
Once was a time when every hill he held,
When temples there proclaimed his rule divine;
Once was a time when every foe he felled,
When Jove's bright standard led the Roman line.
By thunderbolts his anger seen,
Backed by might and vision keen.
Well known that king of gods was worst of men,
For gods as men from strength do oft grow base;
Left lofty thought, to beast converted when
Pulled down by flesh, his virtue left no trace.
So thus the mortal mixed with god,
Good with evil, fair with odd.
Rome on fair Tiber’s banks was built on law,
For of stern reason were laid down its ways;
Of order, more than sword, arose its awe:
This is the bloom of bright Jupiter’s rays.
The thoughts divine, the troubled heart,
Forged from beast was reason’s start.
Long since to dust and tours gone temple sites,
These things of stone that fell to bitter time;
But yet his guiding hand our pathway lights:
Therein a legacy endures past crime.
He taught so much, when ruled the sky;
Final lesson, how to die.
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