My heart is stone, my heart was sealed,
Long before you had appeared.
Tell me why, my dear, how, my dear.
You managed to churn up my insides for a whole year.
So, my darling, why so darling?
You throw rocks at my head,
But you willingly catch me before I fall dead.
If not my darling, why so darling?
both sides you show I just so fear.
So tell me, dear, why and how, my dear,
Are you messing with me?
Or are you just darling?
We rise not solely by our own,
But by the seeds of grace we've sown—
In helping hands and kind replies,
In weary smiles and tear-wiped eyes.
No throne outshines a servant’s grace,
Who bends to lift the lowly place.
Their crown is forged in quiet deeds,
In tending wounds, in meeting needs.
The measure of a soul is told.
Not by the wealth their coffers hold,
But by the light their presence gives—
By how they help others live.
A gentle word, a silent prayer,
A soul who simply stops to care—
These acts, though small, are great indeed,
They heal the world in time of need.
For service is a sacred art,
It shapes the hands and molds the heart.
It does not seek the loud applause,
But honors truth, and lifts just cause.
Each time we kneel to bind a shoe,
Or guide a path, or see it through—
We echo through the ancient song
That says: To serve is to belong.
We are not islands set apart
But waves that stir the common heart.
Our fate is bound by thread and flame—
No face is foreign, none to shame.
So let us walk this human way,
With humble strength, day after day.
To serve, to love, to gently be—
The keepers of our dignity.
The murmurs in the wind named me a whore
According to those prayers i never wished for more
Than to be touched by the purest
And held like fine wine
All In the hands of a caliber
I held that knife like i held you darling
And when you told me all i am is ing boring
I threw the knife straight between your eyes
Hoping you wouldn't notice the hole in my mourning
And i told you death was better mercy
In the hands of a caliber
No one can hurt me
So i slashed off my hair
And killed all my friends
Hoping i'd never again find a caliber in my hands
Woah for this winter
Mourn for this winter
Up here in the mountains
No one can hurt you
Expect for the snake
That hides in the hole
With the same name
Same voice, and same clothes
And it hisses at you
To reconcile
All in the hands of a caliber
Arctic front just a little seems to much
A tolerance to something with no passion or no desire
To be that frozen bird on the wire
Burning purpose Burning reason
reason to plant the greatest ideas
A non-touch society bleeding out slowly
As they shape our mold
To be a force or be a commune
Starving the less prepared
Now their army they call us the metronome
Building their power forgetting humanity's moral disaster
Ambiguous though they left us no escape held hostage
Corporations traps us always fighting for food.
Panic it's out of their control
We the people
Hold all the cards
Watching the economy teeple
Expecting only handfuls to be still driving cars
I have been stuck in a black hole
searching for ammo for my soul
Searching for camo
Before gravity takes it's toll
Now it's 2066
They think home will be hit by some close encounter
Some near Earth object is eyeing annihilation
Apophis at 3.4km on 2029 sounds pretty close
Apophis Just go away we don't want you back
Kill in the eyes that see
It could be designated for me
Murder in the mind and heart
Words were spoken, “I want you dead”
No instead
No speculation
Total elimination
Lies that were stated
Truth totally cut off
A journey beyond
Anger on all sides
Nothing to say in provide
No need to hide
Hate being strong
I am not supposed to belong
Still kill on their minds
Thinking sublime
All in the mind
Nothing to say
Anticipate
No appreciate, but hate
Soon will be dead
Nothing in between
Words of wrath just mean
a destructive world is,
a children hands of god
god destructive world is,
a childs destructive world
a childs world is a childs,
destructive world
the hand of destructive is,
the hand of god
creation is a destructive,
hand of creation
creation is gods destructive hand
creation is a childs destructive world
gods child is gods creation
gods child is gods destructive world
gods hand is a childs hand
gods hand is a childs hand of destructive
children is children of creation
children is children of a destructive world
gods children is gods destructive world
gods children is gods creation
gods hand is gods creation
Why the AK-47 in the hands of the innocent
The innocent has cried out
For too long
For too long
We have been ambushed
By strangers
Unknown to us with a trace
Yes we can't suspect who
They are cos they aren't
Far from our lands
The scars of the tribal wars
Before never stops to end today
Our dignity looks marginalized
By those not in peace with us
Tribalism never ends
In Africa
Such as Racism never ends
In the world
We can't be dying for nothing
We can't continue to lose our love ones
In the hands of this strangers
We always face unwanted brutal
Attacks from this strangers
There pursuit is our destruction
So the fight never end
As the innocent chose to defend their right
If you are still wondering
Why the AK-47 in the hand of the innocent
(Dedicated to all Biafrans World wide )
a force the likes of none other
her hands their healing power
over the curves of my back
the wings of my shoulders
arousing without a touch their heat
a magnetic field conjured
pulsating infusion transferred
connecting to the spiritual realm
a breath slowed in conjunction with
the rhythmic motion of a universal pulse
the ethereal life force of eternity
in rare harmony releasing inexplicable tears
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Submitted on September 24, 2020 for contest COMPLETELY YOUR CHOICE (16) sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - HONORABLE MENTION
In this world, there's so many insecurities
so often we've filled with every fear
our hearts tremble so often with thoughts
we're riddled within causing many a tear
But being a true believer in Christ
I have a secure promise to never fail
because Jesus gave me His word
it's sure to stand through wind and gale
Jesus said I give you eternal life
never to perish not even one
no one will be able to snatch you
from the hand of God's blessed son
In my early believing days in mid-80s
doubts crept in, was this really true?
but God brought this verse to my heart
He had chosen me, doesn't matter how I feel
For no matter what my feelings are
God's done it, eternally be, so it's complete
safe in the hands of Jesus never to perish
now eternally safe among God's elite
(" I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand.") John 10: 28 (ESV)
Somewhere between 12 and 20 per minute
that's how many breaths we all make
where do they come from? not luck or chance
for the older we get it can be a cause to ache
The scriptures tell us much about this
God himself gives all mortals breath(Acts 17:25)
Daniel spoke of our breath is in God's hand (Daniel 5: 13)
all mankind's breath God holds as purely his (Job 12: 10)
So God who created all things on earth
giving breath to the people living upon it
without receiving our breath we're nothing
every minute we live and move to be fit
We must recognise our thankfulness to God
He gives us the ability to breathe in air
God numbers our days even our final breath
so seek Gods face kneeling down in prayer
God doesn't owe any of us another breath
it's all of His mercy and sovereign grace
what would it profit us if we stopped breathing?
Jesus breathed His last dying in our place
(Some interesting thoughts on our breath we breathe each day realising they all come from God.)
I-n the hands of God,
V-ictory lies without a doubt;
Y-our life breathes the air in and out of your mouth.
F-rom the hands of God
A-ll your needs are coming;
L-et His grace overflow,
A-s well as His blessing.
M-aker's long loving arm
I-s filled with mercy and love;
N-inth of May Tuesday
I-s sharing the blue sky above.
A-lmighty Father makes
N-oontime drought or midnight flood;
O-ne bad dream or bright future is in the hands of God.
My life has been a tangled path with many falls,
Each time it was impossible God held my hand;
I know whatever happens with me he will stand,
The gift of writing given- to release my pain.
Mother lost her faith but not me I heard God's call,
A little girl opening the doors of the church;
For answers in the Stations Of The Cross I would search;
Oh, this pain kept all these years has made a heavy chain,
And on my heart and soul a scar- a deep red stain.
I have prayed to God for the answer to my whys,
Why God does everyone that I loved in time - dies;
I open the door and wake the pigeons where they perch,
Tiptoeing- my feet so loud in the silent glow,
God now I am putting my faith in you- I am letting go.
_________________________
May 4, 2016
Poetry/Canzone/In The Hands OF God
Copyright Protected, ID 16-786-551-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Faith
sponsor, Nayda Ivette Negron
First Place
where does
evil rest assure
but
in the hands
of our
advisors
administrators
magicians and
court jesters or
fire in the
hands of
Prometheus
When heartache or uncertainty fill your days and nights,
Remember now, more than ever, just don't give up the fight!
His hands are layed upon you each and every day.
Listen quietly and you'll feel it, not only when you pray.
Sharing with a trusted friend will help to see you through.
The outcome of your life you know, depends on what you DO.
It only takes a willing heart and actions that seem odd,
but through your struggles, you'll find strength - in the hands of God.
If the day
contemplated a year
then,
I have lived lifetimes
in an hour.
if a moment
could have moulded me,
it was this one
when our atoms danced
at first contact,
in the static
and uncomfortable,
I felt a rub that said
‘stand sharp’
I watched the blue
of your eyes
cloud with a storm,
and your fingers twitched
I unfolded my wings,
burnt, torn and scarred,
and with the balm
of your palms
my wings were bandaged
soothed
healed
now I soar
as you watch
and,as I fly
the tempest
in your eyes spreads,
I ride the lightning
embraced in a thunderclap
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