Disastrous
upended
trajectory
again and again
bucking efforts
a palpable sense
shifted
knowledge
even among the most defiant
believe the writing is on the wall.
Why are people so disturbed?
Of all the unholy news they heard.
These are Gods’ proclamations,
It is in Revelation.
Nation against nation,
Mothers will cry for all their babies that died.
One will stand, ten thousand will fall,
The writing is on the wall.
It is time to take a stand,
We all will play in a one man band.
But don’t fret, because it’s not all gloom,
We are not doom.
He is coming soon to bring redemption,
Ending all these devastations.
You have to decide where your alliance will be,
With the Son or enemy?
Before He comes for retribution,
Salvation is your solution.
Shed your old skin, repent before the cross,
And your soul will not be lost.
It is time to take a stand,
Before the world will end.
It's so much better when I'm asleep, cause I don't have to feel. When I'm awake again knowing all the problems are real.
I wish the pain was not so deep, and poisoning my mind. Expression of feeling and crying, a ghost that follows behind.
My sadness is overwhelming and needs a place to go. People expect you to be strong and feelings to not show.
I am blessed with what I have, and to that I hold very dear. I will always be grateful for those in my life that are so close and near.
A new year is approaching and denotes a new chapter for all. For me its the beginning of another dark place, the writing is on the wall.
My only hope is to stay strong within and carry on every day. Maybe in time the sadness will eventually drift away.
Thankyou to those who care, and carry me along. I can only try and keep the faith and make myself more strong.
I send my love to those that know that this relates to you. Also for those that care and hold those that need to be carried too.
Be kind to those that need the strength, including myself to help others. Keep in mind that it can be anyone in need, not just those tired mothers.
Maryanne.x
Reaching a milestone, is a everlasting feeling
Do not worry about those who try to dampens your existence
They are irrelevant to your purpose
Maturing comes at a price by distinguishing who is who
Breathe in and out, relaxing your vocal chords
Do not be anxious unnecessary for anything
Things are coming
Acquiring all the resources for the soul, is a honourable gesture
Do not be easily influenced from your goals
Completion is the master key
Feel what is in your heart but do not be fooled by it
The writing is on the wall, open your eyes
The wealth is all yours, claim it
Its has always been yours
America has always been noted for its Wild West and gun slingers.
Stage coach robberies and killing Indians was also in center of attention. Killing off entire herds of Bison and Buffalo was also alarming.
Bonny and Clyde, Valentine's Day Massacre and Patty Hurst were repulsive. Masochistic tendencies and being prejudiced and discriminating are bad.
Trump said that he is not prejudiced. There is my token black in the crowd. Senator Elizabeth Warren was called Pocahontas by Trump.
Finally, Walmart and Dick's and Fred Meyer are restricting and/or doing away with sales of assault weapons. The hand writing is on the wall regarding weapons sales. The Florida High School is sincerely fighting against weapons. Soon, assault rifles will be completely off of the market. Look at how many massacres it took to get where we are?
Jim Horn
It's funny how time flies, but to each individual it's slow
Are we all looking for a way out, some kind of door
who's writing is on the wall, i don't know
My mind runs to and fro
we all need a moment don't we?
I know i do I just need to know
Copyright © Alesha Roche' | Year Posted 2012
I don’t want to think of you in Winter, Spring, Summer, or Fall.
I don’t want to visit memories of you at all.
I don’t want to think of you when I lie down to sleep.
You promised to love and honor… a pledge you did not keep.
Our happiness is now scattered to the wind.
You are no longer my husband or even a friend.
You portrayed a future of love and bright tomorrows,
Instead your eternal gift to me was sorrow.
Get out of my heart with your memories that invade,
You are the ghost in my past I want to fade.
Love is blind, even when the writing is on the wall.
I don’t want to think of you at all…
5/14/17
Contest Introspective...The Deep Inside You Stuff
Sponsor: Lewis Raynes
Awarded 4th Place
Black Friday Blues
We set are clock to help avoid the biggest dash
Look to the advertisement the paper is as dark as ash
All for the new nintendo out the door a given chance to explore
Inside were running on empty from toxic fumes
Just not enough time to even clean our rooms
Gone to soon from the imagination in our minds
A cost of getting those items from standing in line
We all been through this many times before
Shackled to the exit sign by the edge of the door
Still a willing chance at which to explore
We push the proceed to call are neighbor a whore
The scream for eleborate things for so much more
There is the deviding line in are black friday blues
With tempers on fire a scene from Hill Street Blues
All in the name of fun we run to avoid such lines
This doesn't fit in with any jargon in a quest of time
We often will fade into the scene in such an evil scheme
The hand writing is on the wall choose to live with head ten feet tall
Downtown long lines at the mall people trampled to death what a quest
We cry, ***** & even moan for the sale items to lose their crest
Rush hear & there just to get ahead of what ?
Black Friday Blues
We set are clock to help avoid the biggest dash
Look to the advertisement the paper is as dark as ash
All for the new nintendo out the door a given chance to explore
Inside were running on empty from toxic fumes
Just not enough time to even clean our rooms
Gone to soon from the imagination in our minds
A cost of getting those items from standing in line
We all been through this many times before
Shackled to the exit sign by the edge of the door
Still a willing chance at which to explore
We push the proceed to call are neighbor a whore
The scream for eleborate things for so much more
There is the deviding line in are black friday blues
With tempers on fire a scene from Hill Street Blues
All in the name of fun we run to avoid such lines
This doesn't fit in with any jargon in a quest of time
We often will fade into the scene in such an evil scheme
The hand writing is on the wall choose to live with head ten feet tall
Downtown long lines at the mall people trampled to death what a quest
We cry, ***** & even moan for the sale items to lose their crest
Rush hear & there just to get ahead of what ?
Does you heart wander is desperation
Long to recapture a distant memory in which to grasp
Cold shoulders to cry you scream yet instead a sigh
Shallow dreams out of the sadness there springs from the madness
An an saw your pain lest I refrain,
The hand writing is on the wall
A tug at your heart should light a spark to what it is were waiting for
Children don't listen to the media they will portray you as a clown
Shine your inner light brightly to hear the twilight sound
Shadows creep in in a sorted desperation
Yet we cry for the longing touch of social recreation
Freedom isn't free it has a price for you & me
Building sand castles in the sand when will we be able to understand ?
A heart should be saturated with the love of God & truth
Love is the essence of my existence in the world of resistance
Frightened is a child in the cold of the night what a sight
Grab hold of the love that was sent from hearts from above
they sit
faces blank .....
fingers working up speed
the writing is on the wall.. the
art of conversation has died
no longer do you hear
sound of voices raised in anger or passion
now just silence....
life goes on, looking, searching,
looking for that something,
looking for ...yet they never find
that special person....
somewhere..... over the rainbow
life lies....images of how life could be
if only, ahhh, if only,
I could win the lottery...
not having to work,
buy whatever I wanted
bigger and better mobile phones maybe
to sit there faces blank....
fingers tapping at speed.
If this is the now way of talking.....
what does the future hold!!!!!
I used:
writing on the wall
somewhere over the rainbow
image 3
penned 29/4/2016
Muted voices drift on the winds of silence
Blowing over the conscience of their pretense
Even through the storm nothing is said
Only the wind speaks, as if to the dead
The unspoken word that stifles truth
Could return its verdict upon the youth
Drugs will reap its silent pain
As the silent wind becomes a hurricane
Can they whisper to a truth that hides
When the coin falls on the other side
They see no reason to lend a hand
In this muted mob you'll not find a good samiritan
Soon their silence becomes a disease
With a pain they just can't ease
The writing is on the wall
It wont be long before they fall
And in their quiet agony, they will feel the pain of many
The words of the prophets fell upon the dense
Falling without heed with the sound of silence
----
It's funny how time flies, but to each individual it's slow
Are we all looking for a way out, some kind of door
who's writing is on the wall, i don't know
My mind runs to and fro
we all need a moment don't we?
I know i do I just need to know
Long travelled
am I,
amongst words
that have sailed
in and out of months
beyond the horizon
of years and age.
Set down
and scrolled out
in lexical identity
on parchment stane
quarried and carried
in the soft strom
of half light.
Earlier
I gave
a cursory nod
to the old man,
I had not considered then
that his solitary stature
would guide so many.
But his
aching, half arched frame
in washed out form,
guards entry
and signals the
traveller
of tides the
glimpse of long lost siblings.
And in your flatter
inflexion,
my attention drew,
to the obvious
island words,
that take shape
their derivative
prose.
Sung in angular
and Whale like form
their signature
icon denotes
my spiritual home.
And so,
the ellipsis
hidden from view
was always there,
its codified embodiement
still breathing amongst the living,
in you and I,
and all the seas
that ever were.
For time,
as with the bluntness
of Helgi’s flint like passion
…………the writing is on the wall
At this omega of ill-fetted volitions
where the concrete-embeded poster reads "EXIT"
you watch with amusement the logical end
of ideological perversion
bemused by the grunts of kings vommitted by history
a history of misery
In this, my date with fate
as an inspired spectator i ignore the values a society disguise itself in
and read the writings on the wall
about disjointed limps and fractured souls
about abused women and misused slogans
about useless ballots and useful bullets
about persecuted students and deffered freedom
about the death of peace
and as such our long awaited kiss
on the lips of the King's corpse.
By the concrete poster
the wretched stands awestruck
waving their broken limps,
thus penning the last line in this history of what never happened.
the writing is on the wall
"mene mene tekela upasini"
umambo hwako hwapera
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