Long Excusing Poems
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Science and spirit,
Never separated,
Oppressive systems aside,
Divinity exists.
It used to be Twin Flames,
Once it was empath vs narcissist,
Tarot and deities,
Psychedelics as an exit.
Unsolicited esoteric knowledge,
Struggling to see straight,
A brain so active with no choice,
I chose this before I came.
Extreme choices while searching,
Deep in the polarity and duality of life,
Experiencing the opposites,
To one day experiencing humanity without shame.
Befriended Sikhs and Mormons,
Shamans and Catholics,
Hindu and Muslim,
Athiest and White washed Spirituality.
Religion was my chosen start,
Brief athiesm I encountered after,
Spirituality then all encompassing,
All rooted in control, what a catastrophe.
Twenties were the worst years,
Building foundations blindly,
Dying endlessly to learn the trade,
To hire myself again.
Embrace my physical vessel,
Use it to help not harm,
Face the darkness indoctrinated,
No longer excusing the choices made.
I hang with Jesus,
Also Odin and my passed loved ones,
Read Tarot and the Bible,
In the same reading.
Devil, human psyche really,
Experiencing light to the lack of early,
The wordly and most ethereal of myself,
Existence is provided when my soul I continue feeding.
The promised hope disappointed,
excusing words in denial anointment.
The lover unanswered certainty,
rescued by solidarity.
The call en mass and its hysterity,
common ground fraternity.
The madness captured liberation,
powered manipulation indoctrination.
The new discovered sensation,
the will in determination.
The longing heat by blind admiration,
consequences in slow damnation.
The fanatic obscurity as separation,
freewill in captured isolation.
Corrupted sacred intention,
survivors by abstention.
The fired water of delusion,
retiring philosophies conclusion.
The broken heart inconspicuous,
the searching doctrine in cognisance.
Guided by light in quotes of wisdom,
recorded solution in precision.
Haloes consumed through purity,
Gods hands applied indefinably.
The visible lights for day and night,
fires from unity combined.
The eternal soul in evolution,
shooting stars in clear volition.
Confession is the telling of our sins to a duly authorized priest, for the purpose of abstaining forgiveness
We are bound to confess our mortal sins. But it is well also to confess our venial sins.
The chief qualities of a good confession are three: it must be humble, sincere and entire.
Our confession is humble when we accuse ourselves of our sins, with a deep sense of shame and sorrow for having offended God
Confession are sincere, when we tell our sins honestly and truthfully either exaggerating nor excusing them
Confession is entire, when we tell the number and kinds of our sins and the circumstances which change their nature
If we cannot remember the number of our sins, we should tell the number as nearly as possible, and say how often we may have sinned in a day, a week or a month and how long the habit or practice lasted.
If without our fault we forget to confess our mortal sin Tour Confession is worthy, and the sin is forgiven; but it must be told on confession if it again comes to our mind
It is grievous offense willfully concealed a mortal sin in Confesasion must not only confess it, but also repeat all the sins he has committed since his last worthy confession.
The priest gives us a penance after Confession, that we may satisfy God for the temporal punishment due to our sins
The Sacrament of Penance remits the eternal punishment due to sin but does not always remit the temporal punishment which God requires as satisfaction for our sins
God requires a temporal punishment as a satisfaction for sin, to teach us the great evil of sin and to prevent us from falling again.
The chief means by which we satisfy God for the temporal punishment due to sin are: Prayer, Fasting, Almsgiving, all spiritual and corporal works of mercy, and the patient suffering of the ills of life
Spiritual works of mercy are 7: To admonish the sinner, to instruct the ignorant, to counsel the doubtful, to comfort the sorrowful, to bear wrongs patiently, to forgive all injuries, and to pray for the living and the dead.
The Chief corporal works of mercy are 7: To feed the hungry, to give drink to the thirsty, to cloth the naked, to ransom the captive, to harbor the harborless, to visit the sick and to bury the dead
Ignorance.
It’s not a lack of knowledge.
Ignorance is the act of ignoring.
It is the denial of Truth, the setting aside of practicality, and the excusing oneself from living.
Ignorance is the favorite child of the ignominious and the ignoble.
It speaks volumes about our commitment to hard work (we don’t have one!)
Ignorance is the running aground of a perfectly good ship, that was going somewhere, because we can’t bear the strain of pulling in the sheets*, of steering the rudder, of ducking the boom.
It runs out of excuses early.
Ignorance is telling Hans Mellqvist ‘no’, when he needs help, and there is nobody else but me.
Yah, IGNORANCE!
It is all about me, and none about you.
Ignorance. The Height of Selfishness.
_____________
* the sheets – lines, used in sailing, to control the movable corners of a sail
This poem is for Pagunda Zahid who asked me
Write a poem before he is reluctantly, thrown out,
A spoiled brat who’s lost his best teddy,
Sure he’s plotting to make trouble already,
An impolite, jealous, trouble making annoying fool,
Trying his hardest to overthrow the winner, not cool.
Accusing the election of being fraudulent, how dare he
Lost his balls, think his marbles have also shrunk to a pea,
Has many rallies where nobody wears a mask
Surely the law should take him to task,
Depression and anger has been said to affect a winkie
The senate might have to keep excusing him to take a tinkie!
Twinkle Twinkle little star,
I wonder from where you are!!
Up above the earth so high
Are you shining with a reliefless sigh?
Magnifiscent and appealing you are
But people loose you
excusing you are too far
Too far too many
No sign of connection I see
But why my heart beats faster,
As theres some realtion meant to be...
Will you scream out What &why?
So this heart lessen up his cry
One in millions gets us attracted to
Is that a sign of the space shared by only we two?
I know you try to reach me
But loose your life in the down flee..
This may be the reason to fullfill a wish
Of people you cannot even distinguish!!
The pain you felt may be the reason but you know..
Color changes with every season!!
People are overwhelmed untill they get their work out
No worry,if its at cost of a life
AND how much ones love shout.
Deep in the sea then you rest
Ending up by twinkling your best
Ill reach you one day
So this won't be the ending I 'll pray..
May that lord give each one a twknkling heart
Those who can erase themselves
To fullfill others grant.......
Summit Times Ja Just Gotta Walk Away...
Excusing yourself as if...
going to the bidet,
an immense water closet
(perhaps the size of
Mar A Lago type getup),
sans human waste
(after flushing hearing
heavenly suctioned whoosh)
empties into prez Donald's bay,
where one bum wrapped aforementioned
toilet finely (and finally) enthrones
derriere exquisitely, and, delicately
intricately, chiseled wrought with cloisonné
ah...enjoying simple pleasure a$$ I say
sipping one after another Red Bull, whence
with one final trumpet of the rump -
(as acknowledgment to angry 1%),
though quite reluctantly did pay -
hitting the custom built in combination
handsome replica Taj Mahal fountainhead golf
course made from clay
baked Adobe bathroom links
(whew...long Atlas) shrugging off
responsibilities, escorted
by migrant compadre
Russian Putin lookalike uncannily
also resembles plucked Kernel Sanders
advocating consuming buttered Thomas
English muffins with oreos can delay,
tending to government, who successfully
playfully, melodiously preaches, sermonizes
and absolute zero values benefits burning
off calories, where couples sashay,
asper square and/or contra dancing,
where the caller hollers hip hip hooray
barely audible above
noisy fracas and fray
of crowded house,
avast throng of village people stomp
louder than a quiet
riot global military foray
anathema to dogma,
karma, persona... of
Jacques Cousteau, or green like
minded millennials and/or gray
bearded whelk homed by elasmobranchii.
There’s Who I am, What I’ve done,
And Where I want to be.
And how I choose to view them each
Sets their priority.
Just saying this is Who I am
Excusing What I’ve done
Means Where I want to be remains
The place where I’ve begun
But if I say that What I’ve done
shapes Who I am complete
Then Where I want to be becomes
A goal I cannot meet
Yet knowing Where I want to be
Without the other two
Will leave me lost and wandering
In deserts I’ve gone through
Let What I’ve done be marker stones
On pathways within me
That guide me up from Who I am
To Where I want to be
10/16/22
ER: Enlightenment Recovery Poetry Contest
Like the autumn weaves warmth
With hope and grace,
Inspirations in temptations of laughing scarlet,
Blazing tangerine and glorious gold,
Soothing away the darkness as beautiful
Casts its shadow over my spirit,
A dream reflecting peace that rouses me to remember
Where there was a choice, reserved for joy,
Light was the sustaining power –
Arriving in my unwritten absence,
When bold flames of passionate bronze
Faded into the summer and reminded me why,
Why I was like the dwindling moon, sliding beneath
Stardust dreams, coloring the night
In ebony history – grimly waning ways,
Soothing away the fog of yesterday and creating
Intimacy in the bonds of laughter and compassion,
The seclusion so liberating, smiling into the moments,
Erasing the black and putting away the smallest tasks
Excusing melancholy and blaming dusk
For its exasperating way of giving in to doubt,
Listening to the enchantress, lunation
Who boldly praises the nocturnal memories,
Roaring and seeking temptations,
So wise and wonderful they cling to the flesh,
Like sweat shimmering and sliding,
Sticking to the moments in an abiding grace –
Is memory so brave as the reflection it gave,
The intimacy between two echoes,
Night and day, yesterday, the past – weaved
Into the present moment, erasing the wistful wish
Who dreams light yet focuses on the night
And remembers only to agree with autumn’s brave kindness,
The memory like a taunting of two thoughts,
One of love and one of sorrow, each with their own fears
Their very own tears and so many trusted years
When everywhere there was light
Poured out on endless stirrings of what it is
To give in to the past and its spirit,
The blessings rising like a mist across the mountains,
The moments when life fades in sterling sands
Visions of kindness when life is truth
And life binds the days with praise,
An aching praise who restores and renews,
Invites the beautiful to breathe
And the sadness to grieve…
This is the past and it’s healing will give hope
To the ones who remember
A clinging ache, meant to break…
Yes, there is victory in the faith who believes
God wins – in the end, GOD WINS!
If all people accept evil, color the world, Red.
We have lost genuine respect and love for all life!
Yes, I do mean Communism, with whom America, sleeps in bed.
Innocent unborn, slashed to pieces, with an abortionist’s shiny knife.
And, oh how we howl and berate with jealosy,all the wealthy!
We gave up caring for our children’s innocent, bright souls..
Excusing those elected, who steal our money quite stealthily.
Who teach ungodly sex, and that was never, ever our goal!
Teachers cannot replace your familiy’s Judaeo-Christian values.
So, get them out of public schools, for as a parent you are mocked.
Transgenderism is the new, abominable, government, regious rule.
Even one Supreme Court judge, knows not what a woman is, a total shock.
In the USA, people proudly march, drool and shout for death!
Standing for life or God, makes one the object of brutality.
And howling for murder is not considered any threat?
Thus, we give birth to a total heathen, egotistical dynasty.
4/22/2023