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Premium Member WALKING ACROSS MY OWN SEA

The Journey
Exploring thy purpose
Understanding testimony
Miracle encountered
Assurance in believe
Heaven’s Vibe
Analyzing capability
Having no Doubt
The world wouldn’t understand
Beyond the world’s conscious
Created through excellence
Faith within
Seas pure and true
Walking in pursue
Distance seen
Miles to gain
Preparation derived
Waters reflect
Destiny a waits
Spoken Voice
Heaven’s words.

Hymns we hum are our own version.

Hymns we hum are our own version.

We cast aside the ancient,
dogmatic liturgy,
For the hymns we hum are our
own version,
Symphonies forged in the 
crucible of autonomy.
No longer chanting the
antodisestablishmentarian 
strains,
We orchestrate an unyielding,
revolutionary resonance.
Every breath breathes a
nonconformist hallelujah,
An uncompromised,
multidimensional manifestation 
of faith,
Dismantling the
institutionalized, authoritarian
altars.
We sanctity the beautifully
unconventional spirit,
Our voices rising in glorious,
independent ascension.

Premium Member Buy Best Own Less





Bite-size contest #152
Sponsor: Line Gauthier


Words flowing from the heart in my chest:
Do we dare pursue another quest?
Why must we idolize excess?
What if we buy the best?
Learn to eat less?
Eliminate the rest?


Premium Member Tooting My Own Horn

I don't like to brag, but I've seen it all
The virginal Springs, the legends of Fall
Where whispering pines, meet towering peaks
And raging rivers, raise babbling creeks

A fresh forest glade, festooned with fauna
Hot bubbling waters, nature's own sauna
Swam the Tasman Sea, hiked along the Nile
Even met a wretch, walking "his" green mile

Once I played the Met, and jammed with the Stones 
Then won a big bet, while rolling the bones 
Met the self-righteous, who claims to be right 
And basked with the meek, who shines a true light

From Rome's Rotunda and Phlegraean Fields
To Chinese lanterns and Japanese shields
Sailed the Seven Seas, been around the Horn
Watched a nation die, watched a nation born. 

I've seen followers and leaders of men
I've met the Pope, forgiving my sin
Saw too many rich, degrading the poor
I've stood at Hell's gate, passed through Heaven's door

I've traveled the moon, the stars in the sky
I've charmed the Devil, making Angels cry
Like I said before, I don't like to brag
Here's a toast to ME, waving my own flag!

My Own Strength

Do not cry, my heart
I am still beside you
Hold your remaining breath
Gather your broken dreams
We must walk again

No one hears this pain
No one knows my silence
Fire burns deep inside
Tears flow within my soul
Still, I must smile

Do not leave me, heart
I will stay beside you
Even if worlds depart
Even if bonds are broken
You remain my friend

She chose another journey
My life must not stop
Her memories may hurt
Yet they will make me
I must live for myself

Rise, my heart, rise
Wipe away those tears
Your path still awaits
Your life belongs to you
I will become my light

Premium Member were mind'n mine own

.
                                 i were
                             we        for
                                  were 
                          thuh most part
                                  yeah
                           me          and 
                              mineself
                                     i
                                 were
                      mind'n       mannerz
                                 mine
                        when she bent
                                    o
                                    o
                                    ohver yer honor
                                                      judge

                                                           ')>


Premium Member Experiences: Do they act entirely on their own?

Experiences: Do they act entirely on their own?

Have you ever gone from gridlock to marveling at why?

A song can make you start to cry,

Or why an axiom someone spoke last year

Can fill a quiet room with panic?

You think you've shifted along and grown,

So do a group act without reservation on their
Own?

They perch like dust on an old armchair, 

Unseen until you catch them there,

A sudden compulsion to walk away,

A bad habit from a minor day-

It feels like an individual takes over,

Like an old habit luring us under.

They bump your elbow when you write.

They keep you up, jammed into the after hours.

They strive to tell you who you are,

By guiding back at every imperfection. 

It's easy to feel like a commuter liable.

In an uncaged train of old, dense thought. 

But a memory can't take a single pace,

It's just a bond your body reserved, 

They drive the motor vehicle  when you drop

The wheel, 

And ditto the things you used to sense.

Some have a voice, but you grip the passkey. 

They're just a part of you, not who you have to be.

Premium Member When Luck and Fortune Flee From My Own Soul

When luck and fortune flee from my own soul,
     and then disaster overwhelms my hope,
and hunger consumes the meal in my bowl,
     and poverty and debt hinder my scope,

then I wish myself more rich in spirit,
     in wisdom and character more complete,
with God's forgiveness now to inherit,
     and grace in place of ruin and defeat.

But I reflect on our time spent together,
     that spring we made love under a domed sky
(those happy days seemed to live on forever).
     Despair now gone, I sing and let joy fly.

As you now live on in my sonnet's measure,
may all men find in you time's endless treasure.

Premium Member My Own Kind Of Blues

MY OWN KIND OF BLUES CAME IN THE EVENING NEWS
SADDESS FILLS MY SOUL FOR NO REASON I'M TOLD
QUIET NOW WIPE THOSE TEARS AS MY EYES CLEARS
THE WETNESS POURS MORE AND MORE ON THIS FLOOR
OF GRIEF BENEATH ME I WEEP SO PROFOUNDLY 
AS LAUGHTER COVERS THE SUN TASTING THE WARM
SUBLE AIR NO ONE WILLING TO SHARE IT
FOR I CAN NOT BREATH FOR SUCH A PAIN
I LIE HEAR 80 YEARS MY SENIOR AS I DIE TODAY
FROM A HORRID DEATH OF LOVING TOO MUCH
AND NOW THAT THE FUNERAL IS THROUGH 
IT'S RIGHT IN MY FACE HE DON'T LOVE YOU
SUCH A SILLY LITTLE THING HERE LOOKING AT ME
WAITING AND WANDERING HOW GREEDY IS SHE
FOR I TAKE NOTHING AND INHERIT YOUR PAIN 
I SWALLOW THE CRIES HIDDEN DOWN YOUR SPINE 
AS I CRY FOR US BOTH AS I REAP WHAT'S SEWN
HERE IN THE DEBTS OF PITY HOW CAN I LIVE
IN SUCH AN EMPTY CITY I WHERE OLD SHOES USED
JUST SITTING HERE WEEPING WITH THE BLUES 

WRITTEN BY YOLANDA JOY NICHOLSEN 5-20-2004
2610 PROVIDENCE STREET FORT MYERS FLORIDA
COPING WITH TRAUMATIC BRAIN INJURY

Premium Member my mouth has a mind of her own

my mouth has a mind of her own
she is not assertive, she is aggressive
It is her way or the freeway
She is opinionated beyond the norm

I am well aware of the danger she puts me in
Broken teeth are proof I have gone to extreme measures
Trying to keep her clamped down
and under wraps

Sarcastic and loud, she can get me into all kinds of trouble
Which is why I no longer drink
another explanation for the broken teeth

Premium Member on their own

a gold streamer hangs
as young dove takes first flight
leaving empty nest

Build Your Own Sky

I was not born to walk the line,
I was born to redraw the map.
Where others waited for the light,
I learned to shine in the dark.

They said the road was already made,
I chose the forest instead.
They followed footprints in the sand,
I followed the voice in my head.

The world may not remember the crowd,
It remembers the ones who dared.
Not the one who feared the fall,
But the one who learned to fly.

So build your road where none exists,
Write your name across the sky.
The future belongs to those
Who dare to create, not imitate.

My selfish own divine mission

My selfish own divine mission. 

“Myself definitely worth nothing, In the eyes of the society but, My selfish own divine mission.

Which myself depends on, no one else but! Strive in the name of the Lord in my lonely life,

To fulfill my ambition without a split of blood In the streets of politics‘?”

--Author Abdul Haye Amin.



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Premium Member Deutronomy ch 30 verse 19

Today i lay before a choice, its that simple.'
And always is..What will you decide.?

Premium Member Shandra Knits her own Wool

Sheep Shandra does not have to go to the store
She knits up her own wool, and she always has more
Today she is knitting an afghan for the king and the queen
they said any color will do, so she is making it green

She dyes it too? The listener was amazed by this news.
She is truly remarkable, said her cousin, McGlews.
If I need a bit of wool, I sit with her and do a spin.
Pretty soon I am covered in her wool up to my chin.

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