Long Storehouse Poems
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Fast steady steps but not sure where to go
Strong sturdy arms but ready to give in
Warm playful gaze with a hue of sadness
A cursing tongue
capable of sweet innocent promises
Wrap me in your arms
Hide me in your smile
But baby don’t drag me for a mile
Fill me, consummate my soul
A touch that could burn
A look of yearn
Words that could calm my spirit
An embrace that shields me
A smell that rubs off
A presence that could linger
A face that could show me the world
A being that makes life unfold before me
I wish i could be the one
Who could be with you when you are afraid
Placate your fears
Chase the dark shadows of your past
Close your wounds
Heal your scars
I want to be the one to te tell you that
Snowflakes do not taste good
That flowers do bloom in the spring
And that splinters hurt
I just want to be there for you
Make sure that your everything is going to be alright
I want to make you believe
That true love exists
I want to smother you with feathery kisses
If i can't hug you long enough
tell you I love you too often
Know that I believe in us together
Even if it can’t be all that
I have given you the rarest opportunity
To allow you to see my own beauty
All the reasons i have in me
My qualms, realms, pent up emotions
New perspective and even my uncertainties
You have reached that special part of me
Where you could hear my heart flutter
Listen to me when i say nothing a
But i mean something
When you could thrust me deep
In the night sky’s feverish theme
In return you have share with me
A place where we can confront our needs
dreams and unspoken fears
The storehouse of our hope that encompasses
The essence of who we truly are
But when i see a furrow in your brow
A glitch of sadness in those eyes
Or hear you curse and yell
Sense anger in your voice
I shudder with fear but somehow
make myself strong enough
So i could run and hold you
rock you gently
Say it's okay baby
In your world where everybody hates
a happy ending story
Let me be the one to say forever and ever
before the end
I hope time will not come when my dawn will break
Giving light to your mind that we are meant
But this time with you is not wasted in sorrow
But spent in smiles
Despite the future’s call
My case i now rest my heart i now give
Myself i surrender before my time slips
And runs out with fate.
there are profits to be had if you listen to a prophet of the Lord
blessings of infinite proportions if you choose to get on board
the prophecy of a prophet, the words from a man of God
a man whom God will use, a man after His own heart
one who is willing to sacrifice and still do all that he can
to spread the gospel, intercede for others and follow God's master plan
but where are those kinds of prophets today?
true men of God whom we desire to obey
many of them have forsaken their ministries and compromised their callings
and can't seem to realize that spiritually they seem to be stalling
for it's quality and not quantity that the Lord God desires
it's not how many, but how devoted are those whom you inspire
Elijah was a prophet who had an intimate relationship with Christ
he lived during the times of Queen Jezebel's opulent life
but Elijah was a simple man of God who was most adamant
he stood on the word of God and was determined to follow the commandments
he declared one day that God said there would be a drought
and until the people changed their wicked ways, the rains would not pour out
one day on his earthly tour Elijah met a lost soul
a widowed woman of little means who had abandoned all of her goals
Elijah asked her for some water and then he asked her for some bread
she said I only have enough for one last meal and then I will be dead
she had given up, she was defeated, she had relinquished all hope
she had forsaken her belief system and no longer had a desire to cope
yet in the midst of all this virulence and all of this stress
Elijah said to trust in God's word so her testimony would progress
and after she committed to the word and took that leap of faith
she received a profit from the prophet's prophecy, she got a food rebate
when you trust in the Lord to provide all of your needs
He will overflow your storehouse with an abundance of seeds
if you believe in Him, you'll then receive from Him, come out of your comfort zone
trust in a prophet's prophecy it has the power of the heavenly throne
be obedient to God's commands, on His word you can depend
trust in God's promises, they will profit you in the end
the profits in a prophet's prophecy you will then receive
just say yes to all God asks of you and in His word truly believe
Turtle heard that Salt Woman was on the road again, and he was
wanting a taste of her. Some miles from Cochiti, he stopped
for directions at a Speedway gas station.
The dwarf who ran the garage could not speak, but Turtle
using the language of Sandhill cranes put a spell on him,
making him dance directions. The dwarf’s jerky movements
became more fluid as Turtle urged him to relate more of the
Salt Woman.
In these parts, Salt Woman had a rep. She traveled
with a wooden puppet that she called her grandson.
When she came to a pueblo she would ask for food for
the boy. Some villages offered her food from the communal
storehouse, and she would bless their store with her tears,
while her grandson grew green leaves on the top of his wooden
head, but in some pueblos the mayor would refuse to offer
anything. Salt women would then turn the children of the village
into chaparral jays.
Turtle figured that the garage dwarf was just a fool, but he knew
that a salty woman was worth finding, and so he drove on following
her trail. Sure enough he found her in a bar in the Acoma
settlement known as Sky City.
Her grandson was with her. Turtle took a good look at Salt Woman.
She was not young, her face was lined, but her hips were as round
as fat babies, her belly dimpled, rosy, and delectable. The wooden
child’s eyes opened wide as he watched Turtle walk up to the bar.
Turtle was looking fine in his rhinestone studded jeans, his tan ruby
fringed shirt and his white, eagle-feathered Stetson.
Ordering tequila, he turned to the woman.
"Will you give me one of your tears, mother"? He asked.
"I have a thirst that can only be cured by a greater thirst".
Salt Woman looked at Turtle:
"And what will you give me in return"?
"I will share my salt with you," turtle replied honestly.
"The same as any man then," she said with a curling lip.
"Yes mother, but my salt will make you younger,' turtle lied.
Turtle will promise anything for sex, in this he is no better
than most men.
Salt Woman laughed out loud, yet a teardrop of sadness fell into
Turtle’s tequila. In a flash Turtle drank it down, grabbed hold of
the boy transforming him to a crane, then he took Salt Woman
upstairs where they tasted their thirst – again and again.
As we search the river’s source,
It jumps the banks of our twisted past,
Set sail for the uncharted,
The pale flickering of the pole star,
The ever present circle,
Surrounding, unfolding, revealing,
Where mere words find their ending,
My being extols with creation,
As the unseen manifests,
My heart glows at the hope of promise,
Wings of protection above,
Passover and Pentecost crossing,
The sentient creatures converge,
The fluxing pulse of the Comforter,
And I marvel at the care,
That she left the Teacher’s feet for me,
Within His radiant love,
Lives the sustenance of our spirits,
Behold the divine order,
This ink is the blood of the prophets,
The words that come unbeckoned,
To every thief emboldened by grace,
To whom pardon is granted,
Pension within His magnus opus,
New senses are awakened,
All the expanse of ether alive,
The tongue of my muse proclaims,
The Logos who is Lion and Lamb,
The cloud of saints angelic,
Ever spreading the incense of prayer,
Those sown in humility,
Are the heirs of the royal bloodline,
This is the message of love:
“Tend the spark within; fear is no more”,
So hearing, I am entranced,
Imbued in spinning perpetual,
Beyond the evanescent,
Dreams coalesce in truth triumphant,
On this plane surrounding time,
Reverence is felt in shades of silence,
Communing I am aware,
Our souls form the structure of heaven,
Grafting to the woven chord,
Volition found in acquiescence,
Eyes set to the horizon,
My love drinks in a dawn without end,
The well that will not run dry,
Our longing, His signature sincere,
Washing in resurrection,
With the sign of victory christened,
The Light Incarnate burning,
Baptized by fire, our eyes perfected,
Perceiving that great storehouse,
Where moth and rust could never be known,
There every blessing returns,
In harmony transposed to healing,
Upon her visage reflects,
The Illuminate everlasting,
Burning from our countenance,
The remembrance of locusts and lies,
Latent instinct intrinsic,
Drawing us to our intended home,
Confident in obtaining,
Beatrice kneels before the I AM,
Eternal Author of time,
Whose character fills the Book of Names
Compassion smiles down
Like stars winking through the cosmos
Lifting spirits and warming hearts
Coloring the soul in a tune of light indigo
Hope whispering across my thoughts
Laughing love through my soul
Compassion lights my heart
Warm and wise, welcoming your thoughts
As they sift through the moments
Gentling my naked emotions
Healing me with a kiss, soft breath
Lingering on my fair skin
Compassion holds my dreams
In the curve of their teasing vibrancy
Echoing a prayer of gentle praise
Soothing my longing for serenity that frees
On the sunshine beams of music
With wings, free as the tendency to believe
Compassion caresses my memory
With moonlight hopes that thrill
Awakening my inner senses, breaking through
Wishes, worries, waste from wild
Faith – faith so alive it heals the hurts
Of a past which reminds you of remorse
Compassion burns like fire
Through the soul who knows
Passion and desire from the depths
Of a joy that brings about true yearning
For kindness that absorbs
Sorrow, angst, discouragement
Compassion thrills the sweet spirit
Of one who believes in the brilliance
Of a sunlight moment expressing itself
With gentleness and carefree
Sentiments that erase all the worst
Shading the thoughts with tenderness
Compassion breaks the promise
Of the one who vows to leave behind
The grief that troubles the mind
And brings mourning to the very soul
With the assurance that there is relief
In the elation that comes alive in tomorrow
Compassion is the breath of love
That breathes hope, faith and inspiration
Through the soul who knows
God is alive and wise and sure
More brilliant than ever before
And He knows… our deepest yearnings
As He pours out blessings across our souls
Malachi 3:10 KJV - Bring ye all the tithes into the storehouse, that there may be meat in mine house, and prove me now herewith, saith the LORD of hosts, if I will not open you the windows of heaven, and pour you out a blessing, that there shall not be room enough to receive it.
Overwhelmed by his love,
My lover set out to weave a tent for me
A house, with me in which it would delight him to dwell
A grand mansion over which He spared no expense
Consumed with loving concern for my security,
My maker set about it two formidable lines of defense
To the first He said 'wage war against any and every invader'
And the second He trained in precision and memory
To every command issued, they attacked and grew in number
Knowing His Lady well,
My creek in the rock set forth to install the plumbing
To some vessels He said 'supply', and 'drain' He said to others
And if there be a leakage
He commands the waters 'congeal!'
And they clot in obedience
Despising darkness
The Father of celestial lights set up incomparable wiring
To the Brain He said 'you're the master' and a cord He made its Deputy
And as they coursed down miles and miles of nerves,
To some neurotransmitters He said 'charge' and 'relax' He said to others
And they carried His commands in obeisance
Anticipating my needs
My All-sufficient one set up a beautiful storehouse
To the inlet He said ' curve and dazzle me with her smile'
And He stretched out convoluted tunnels to reap of all I ate
He placed command on the Liver to preserve and replenish
And it said, 'gladly, even if I must grow again'
What house is without ventilation?!
The Breath of life decided; not his bride's!
So He breathed in me and my lungs inflated
And with each time I exhaled
He commanded that I be purified
So afraid of His holy presence, the waste escapes
Paying attention to fine detail
The matchless artist set forth to decorate me
To pheromones He said 'give her fragrance'
And to my gonads He commanded 'keep her soft and supple'
And in delight, they linked with others to keep my house gorgeous
Jealously possessive, this touch is especially His
My Lover set up His secret Chambers
To my Heart He gave a song
And as it sings relentlessly
I hear the echo of his name...
I am, I am, I am.
-laulindah
#the hundredth
Blessing
A blessing is more
Than some words on a page
Or to follow a sneeze
Or break a leg for the stage
It's more than just sentiment
It is conscious decision
To send love and kindness
With a purpose and vision
Not a throwaway niceness
It's so deep and profound
A blessing reclaims
So much more hallowed ground
Not a poem with boundary
No beginning or end
It is never constrained
It is more than just friend
It's the ripples of change
In the pool filled with love
Spilling out when we cast
A request-stone above
A blessing has value
Even more than a prayer
It loves, lingers, leads us
It's a heaven-ward stair
To invoke down a blessing
Is to open earth space
And flood it with goodness
Laced with Spirit and grace
Like an angelic whirlwind
Where the atmosphere alters..
It's the arm of a lover
When your step forward falters
It connects and restores
It has holiness prowess
Like it says on the tin;
It dispels all the darkness
So reach your hand high
And call down that blessing
It can only bring truth,
No fake-news second guessing
Draw the gift from a well
Never known for it's dryness
All the thirst to dispel
With a cup from his Highness
So..
May your life be renewed
May the darker days dwindle
May your eyes see new Hope
May your healing rekindle
May your voice find it's place.
May you outshine the shadows.
May you nurture that seed
So a mighty, strong oak grows
May your neighbours be friends.
May your generous spirit
Be a lighthouse of hope
For the boats harboured in it.
May your journey be fruitful.
May your harvest be plenty.
May your storehouse be shared
Where the hungry soul's empty.
May the places you walk
Find your presence refreshing
For we all have a choice
To bring heavenly blessing.
Jinjagoliath
8th May 2021
When you gave me your news
The sides of my mouth rose in a maniacal grin
Was this some kind of cruel joke
Blood rushed away from my brain
Leaving me feeling faint
I could not comprehend
The possibility
The reality
Of your mortality
It was like it was happening to me
"How could this be happening to me!"
You have always been here
I know you are not going anywhere soon
But this forces me to see
None of us is here forever
So I will not take you for granted
I will celebrate each moment of our laughter
I will fill up the storehouse of my memories
I will be the giver and receiver of hugs
Smiles will adorn my lips
Still, I will not be afraid of my tears
Today
Yes today
This very day
I will scream
Scream out my anguish
Scream until I release my inner sadness
Until I am endowed with your strength
For you do not allow yourself to wither in pity
You dance
You celebrate what is
Not what is lost
You do what needs to be done
You prepare for battle with a warrior's heart
The blood you have given me
Pumps from my heart
Back to my brain
To my eyes that see you
To my ears that love hearing you
To my hands that enjoy your familiar touch
To my tongue that never tires of talking to you
All the parts of me that fully enjoy
Our time
One day there will be a time beyond us
Yet that time is not now
So for now I will love you
I will appreciate the gift of you
When your time arrives
There is a part of you that will stay with me
The part that I will carry with me
To guide me along my own finite path
Until the time I bring it back to you
into the next world
The place that we will discover
Once and for always
That there is
indeed
Forever!
..............Baby Steps Out..
..........There's a waiting world
.......Doctors nurses eager staff
......A doting father, mother in pain
.....It is said that we chose our birth
....An act of free will, desired destiny
....The paths are all charted by our will
....This birthday I decided to recall..loll
......A memory jog, back to time of birth
.........An unborn peeping into his future
..............The little steps on roads ahead
.................Unfolding destiny milestones
.....................Cherished moments in wait
.....................Some vivid some smudged
.....................Hand drawn on masterprint
..................Paths to travel people to meet
................The resting places n thirst stops
...............Careful leaps on stepping stones
...........The journeys that were yet to unfold
.........All vivid in storehouse before take-off
.....In the sojourn I was told: Precious is birth
...In baby steps or our giant strides a purpose
.The joys or sufferings are like passing screens
There is an axis a polestar guiding & connecting
A constant the unchanging in all that is changing
Distracted get our senses by colors cacophonies
.Not difficult to lose the picture in such a journey
...Precious is birth- holds many a promise....es ....
......like many seeds...finding ground.. ..yes !!
.........pods germinate ..stored... ..loved ..
...............friends near far ...unmet :)
......................thank you.....<3.....
.................................Fam ....frnds
.........................................................for remembering
.............................................................flowing wishes
Where can I go to bury love?
To the cemetery at dusk when the mist softens
Further the already worn corners of granite markers?
“Beloved Father and Friend”
“Cherished Wife”
Sister, Brother, Son, Daughter—
What will my epitaph read?
Here lie the ashes of a life remade
Time and time again.
No epithet or adjective,
For ephemeral forms like the scent of lilies,
Clinging to each form and shape, permeating the air;
I can be whatever the sun makes of me:
Rain, fog, snowflake kaleidoscope.
But enough—
Through the weeds and the overgrown plots
To the mausoleum where all the old loves lie.
Each crypt contains the remains of
Laughter and tears, midnight words and sunrise fears.
The memories of meetings between hands, eyes, lips—
And they make prayers as ghostly pilgrims do!
Tomb of cherished and forgotten things,
that I could not keep within the confines of this heart.
And here I lay to rest
The brush of your lips on my forehead,
The swell of your chest under the blankets in the dark,
The small furry warmth on my breast of your smile.
Someday, Friend, my bones will lie here too,
And all of the feverish hope and love will awaken,
Be reabsorbed and make me new.
But until then, there are miles to travel,
So many other crypts for loves to come.
Until then, pearl of my soul,
Adieu!
Wait for me in this storehouse of treasured things,
Do not mind the dust and the corpses
They were once treasure too.
Until I return to lay down what I have gained
And become one with what I have lost,
Here lie the ashes of a love remade
Until the fire scorched what it lit.
No epithet, no adjective,
Rest in peace until we meet again.