The need to talk to the Heavenly Father
Despair moment
Struggle barrier
Guidance in advice
Understanding that is precise
Talk and tears being sincere
The need for an uplift to preserver
Through the shadows into the depths of uncertainty
I will not fear
The Holy one is always near
Having a stronger Faith
The need to stand and face reality
Every length
The width domain
Deliverance now and forever
Endure the endurance
Encouragement influence
Conquering Satan’s block
Breaking the struggle that bind
Prayer time
You are genuine
Through the valley’s below and the mountains above
Your name I will always think of.
Dancing on one leg,
On one leg we live with agony.
Agony shapes our wobbly footsteps.
Footsteps made into inaudible power.
Power blossoms through a series of gaffes.
Gaffes in life we must encounter.
Encounter the collapse,
Collapse that let us instill how to soar
Soar through tornadoes.
Tornadoes that hover steadiness
Steadiness leading to respire hesitation.
Hesitation converts into intensity.
Intensity that coals irrepressible souls.
Souls molded by cracks
Cracks that find cadence in the obscure.
Obscure leads to dawn
Dawn still pirouetting on one leg
Poem by N. Mugisho
I.
One cloudless day, without spring shower
or monsoon, angels made their stand;
and conjured otherworldly power,
one cloudless day, without spring shower.
When God chose me that fateful hour,
as I held lightning in my hand,
that cloudless day without spring shower,
I was marked for evil to devour.
II.
Though crucified, reviled by hate,
I dwelt in my ivory tower;
inspired by love, what I create,
though crucified, reviled by hate.
My sweet songs showed how God was great;
fertilized by life's manure, my flower
bled, crucified, reviled by hate,
by evil men, the world, and fate.
Is persecution a sign of weakness
prosecution a sign of strength
To the victors go the spoils
from might makes right
the world recoils
On one stormy night
My love shall knock at your locked door
Pleading, anchoring at your shore
On that stormy night.
On that stormy night
My love will stand aloof, apart,
And you will see its wounded heart
Pulsating in plight.
And you’ll see that night
My bleeding wound, all soaked in love,
Reciprocated nor requited,
Gasping in its plight.
And in the morning
When you wake, out of cosy bed,
My love, all bled and all but dead,
You’ll see departing far above.
_______________________
Musings |26.01.2025| love, night
How I wished that a road to your heart
Hadn't come to a dead end
You say you love me
Or do you just pretend
There's no feeling in your kiss
No warmth in your smile
You never tell me that I was missed
You turn your back on me in bed
Never listen any more
And you mess around with my head
I never know if I'm coming or going
If the sun shines or it rains
And there's no way of showing
I feel trapped choked and beyond control
A little lost child left out in the snow
You not only took my heart but you also stole my soul
I wish I'd never met you
But I can't find the strength or will to go
Chained and shackled to
Only you have the key
To unlock me
And set me free.
'Every man is proud of what he does well; and no man is proud of what
he does not do well. With the former, his heart is in his work; and he will
do twice as much of it with less fatigue. The latter performs a little imperfectly,
looks at it in disgust, turns from it, and imagines himself exceedingly tired.
The little he has done, comes to nothing, for want of finishing.'
Abraham Lincoln.
'When a man is led to believe that the pride in the work that he thought was done well, is undermined by himself, or others, for lack of instruction, where such instruction would not be rebuffed, then those whom could so instruct are just as responsible for the want of his finish. For when his heart is in his work and he seemed tireless in the pursuit of it's perfection, while knowing full well that nothing is perfect, when if fortunate enough, then his efforts could at the very least be perceived as his willingness to bring himself up from his past failure'.
James McLain Saturday, November 1, 2014
Gathering, waiting
As dusk settles near,
Patiently anticipating
To watch and to hear
The first shooting spark
To utter a boom,
And fill up the dark
With a crackling bloom
Familiar faces angled
To get the best view,
Of a sky spangled
With red, white and blue
Joined by the fireflies
And their show of light,
'Til the last firework dies
On one July night.
His mama said one candy when she sent him inside.
The shy bunny boy glanced down, as if to sort of hide.
Shopkeeper rabbit put her own opinions aside.
She pointed out some goodies, and then let him decide.
Oh, woe is me! Oh my! Oh my!
I am going to be singing this song until I die, oh man!
"I’m Henry the Eighth I am. Henry the Eighth I am I am!"
I’d stop singing if I could; I am not even a fan….
This poem is stuck in my head forevermore.
"I got married to the widow next door; she’s been married seven times before!
I’d love to stop strumming and singing; it’s starting to be a bore!
It is a song I used to kind of adore…..
"Everyone was an ‘Enry, ENRY! Aint’ had a Willy or a Sam!
Or a Sam!
I’m the eighth I am, I’m ‘Enry, Enry the eighth I am I am
‘Enry the Eight I am I am."
"Seventeenth verse, same as the first."
Would singing another song be better or worse?
I cannot believe this song is stuck in my head.
I’ll be forced to sing it until I’m dead.
Happy birthday, Sister Mylene,
Let these words in lines warm your heart;
Your life always prefers to lean
On one God's guidance at day's start.
Topic: Birthday of Mylene Asuncion (March 14)
on a giant oak,
small birds are flapping their wings~
gearing for take-off
The spirit of God is in the words to make generally known
Of the mind that touch the heart to express and proclaim
The mystery and to establish the existence of words;
Widely, deeply, expressible, alive, powerful and remarkable.
I seat, I stand, and think, I views the life deeply in its own
Specific time. "Where my life comes from? My life comes from
The Lord, the maker of heaven and earth."
Let your mind think of me, breathe on me. Love me, know me.
I will open your eyes to see miracle from me. I will sort it
Out everything for you, so you can easily make it through.
Stay with me, I will make my words known to you that I am
Yours, and you are mine. I know that you love me.
I am watching you, guiding you from the time you was born.
Fix your eyes on me. I will transform you to never ending life
That I promise you.
Love God
(c) Jocelyn Dunbar
11 October 2020
9:30 AM
Never again this moment will come,
you just know that, so,
Mending of hearts would take a lot of time,
to fix a mood, low
My sleep is getting darker and denser,
A rather dreamless one
Things in life are withering out,
leaving so many tasks undone.
One fine morning, when sunlight will be melting down
The rays of dawn
I will kiss your sleeping face,
I will whisper in your ear in a gentle tone
“Do you still have time to see the horses in your dream,
Did you see them?”
This will wake you up. Your naive face will have a question.
For me or for them...
“Why did you not wake me up before?“
Leaving an echo only questioning the same.
I was walking back home through a park tonight
when something happened that gave me fright.
A big dog romped up and placed its teeth round my heel
and then romped away without taking a bite.
Good thing this dog must have just had a good meal.
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