Sometimes I wonder if eventually the rot leaves way for love,
if the thick layer of hope on my lips is enough to get myself out of the trenches,
I wonder if I’m held captive to my past because my past is just a reason to hate,
Am I in fact hateful?
do I hate the fact that it feels as though my past has deteriorated any thought of being loved future?
sometimes I just want to crawl out of my skin and soak it in bleach,
Allow every last sin to burn away at the chemicals on my skin
am I dirty forever?
is it really purity culture or just a lack of self esteem
I love myself repeatedly but it never seems to stick in the moments that truly decipher one’s loyalty to themselves
Conflict-ion of loyalty, love, and desperation.
- V.B
Nervously I wonder if
I’m better than what’s passed–
Surely thou must think so now,
At least while thou shalt last.
And though my standards be quite high,
(Considering my art not vast),
The tests I’ve conjured–fast and strict–
Save but one–you’ve passed.
With strangers whom thou mingled be,
Doth thou reminisce?
And when thou art holding me,
Yet are they still missed?
Couldst thou be a honey bee,
Which passes with one sting,
Or rather likened shouldst thou be
To resilient wasps on wing?
And even if thou be’st that wasp,
As kindly as thou seem,
Thou sting’st as a naughty knave,
And made those two girls scream.
Passed around you sadly seem
To this girl who’s firm and chaste;
But if thou can prove’st to me
You’re wiser now–steadfast–
I’d look past your transgressions
And look not to the past.
A summer shower was photographed by
The child's father and professionally set
in a picture frame a few days later.
One day as he was fixated upon the sound
of the water drops dripping against the window
Panes as well as starring at the picture
Photographed and framed by his father,
The young lad asked his devoted dad,
"Why does it rain?" The father's reply was,
"It rains to take away some of the pain and
Shame that would otherwise overtake us.
Without the rain, said the dad, there would
Be more people without purity, without which there would be a world filled with more Shame.
Until that day of gazing into the picture frame,
The lad never realized there was so much
To be gained from the rain.
PURITY OF FORM-:-
achieving
complementary
verifiable
experimental
approaches
true TO PHENOMENA
autonomous
representational
synthesis
personal
perspectives
to CLOTHE IDEAS
sensitively
subordinated
elaborate
allusive
adornments
416.
Purity of Heart & Body
Human body must be treated with respect
For through it we find the image of the Perfect
Thinking and doing about it wickedly
Can lead to sin against chastity
Do not tempt and do not be tempted
Our body's not an object, not a bed
Our body's a temple, the temple of God!
-12/01/2015
(Dumarao)
*23rd Daily Reflection from Catechism Booklet
What haunted me the most, was the myth of clean.
Soap with its pale arrogance, its perfume of forgiveness.
Water pretending to be neutral, pretending it could rinse a history.
As if purity were mechanical.
As if turning a handle could unmake a person.
As if the stain were not the self.
Dear Grandpa,
Since the day of the old,
And the time of the new,
Your strength never grew cold,
Your mind was never due,
You stood strong,
Mighty as an ox,
Smart like an ape,
As cunning as a fox,
Though one more year goes by,
I hope to see you,
At the corner of my eye,
They may push you down,
And stomp on your belief,
May you stand your ground,
And not dare to grieve,
Every small act,
Is worth a thousand plays,
Never stop smiling,
Not by night nor by day,
The little things you do make a big change,
Don't you ever stop,
No matter what they say,
Even an elephant fears a mouse,
Even a tall building can fall,
The one true thing that matters in the end,
Is the one who's above them all.
This mind seems to be spinning
My steps get a bit unsteady
Your gestures of kindness never seem to end
My stomach filled up with butterflies
I've never felt more alive
Space between us feels unnatural;
I desire you in my arms
to caress your face in my hands
And admire you under sparkling stars
Beautiful smile, beautiful eyes
Your soul is majestic
I could go on forever describing how lovely you are
Your respect and honor bring me comfort
My trust now learns to stay with you
A SKY WRITTEN IN ASHES
The sky was written in ashes, the clouds dark and bleak,
Whispering secrets they dare not speak.
Fire carved its visions on the rooftops of stone,
Each verse held a heartbeat, not sorrow alone.
Even the sky wrote in ashes, its story bathed in pain,
Yet hate turned to warmth, and the words bloomed again.
The sky’s cruel script was heavy and hushed,
But children dream in colors, pure and untouched.
Their joy rewrites what the fire erased,
At the sign of dawn, new stories are placed,
Though the sky is written in ashes, it is full of holes and scars,
The thread told to bind it is not very far,
The sky may write stories in ash and despair,
But remember the light that lingers through the air.
corrupt
sinful, hurtful
harming, demeaning, demoralizing
fraud, theft, honor, innocence
helping, uplifting, encouraging
helpful, unsoiled
pure
Original sin turns into original purity
As the first undoing is underdone
And returning becomes advancing
Into a lost but remembered world
Of innocence before the rape and kidnap
And we stare no longer into the faces of fascists
But into the sunlit athletic eyes of Spring
Chaste Carla Larla witch was forced to wear white
To show all that she was pure on Halloween Night
A white hat, and a white dress were not enough
Her father made her carry some other white stuff
A white broom and white lantern glowed in the sky
She was humiliated by her purity, thought she might die
But her mother told her it was a good thing indeed
Next year, married Carla Larla was allowed to wear paisley and tweed.
truth, a specific view of reality
it appears before persons at a given moment
it is not static and cannot be measured
in a laboratory
each individual score is different
as every perceived phenomenon is specific
truth is time bound according
to one mindset frequency within a set framework
truth is always connected
to convenience for wit as best position
based on individuals heeded comfort
convenience and conviction
one scoop can sword another
face can be beautiful or unsavoury
since truth is pliable it is easily
bent by egoic mind as positioning moves
its nature and clarity is not rooted
in material mirrors
moves from waves beyond time-space
ability to touch truth as purity
indicated on spiritual station
being both measurable and unmeasurable
diffused by gospel stories
it can't be captured within single framework
by set groups of labelled individuals
remaining unbound to space
free from human law
individual truth is presence coloured
as fact for material conveniences
________________________
BRONZE PLACEMENT: ALL POETRY CONTEST
MARCH 26
Buds of heart break open
spread myriad hues of joy, cheer, and happiness
Mend broken
Sacrifice self
Ending spring of color, fearless
In shelf
Encore
Childlike, blameless
Pure
Buds of heart break open
Ending spring of color, fearless
Pure
still glass of water
focus a ray of sunlight
on spot apparent
so with power of pure thought
> dissipates by scattering
from one another
through attentive love focus
penetrate shadows
see self dancing and laughing
> consider moment a blessing
mysterious moves
holograms of universe
peace and balance merge
surrender into deepest
> levels of spiritual love
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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