The beautiful gravity of the silent night reveals the splendor story of God
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"Let the sea be my grave and the crest of waves my monument,"
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I gravitate to kindness. It is of God.
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Remorse and regret is all left in chaos,
See where we lie, grave of our own.
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I demand more meat in my poetry, gravy but not swimming in it. A heaping salad but not so much garnish and dressing to overpower the healthful greens.
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Those that look to the heavens, and reaching the most high ... may find gravity taking tolls, that can often deny.
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Here's a question for those science-minds & their creativity: so which came first, energy or gravity ?
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If I were living in Russia, I would be fighting America but since I live in America, Let us fight Russia. (exactly how fools get controlled by the media to listen to just one news and censored the others, sending innocent people to their graves by war of bias opinion)
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Creatives I Admire (Part 1) - The writers and creatives I gravitate to, are those who have been driven to the depths of despair, experienced the greatest pain on many levels (physical and emotional), have survived to share with us their experiences, whether they are cast as outsiders or received as enfant terrible geniuses and welcomed by society with open arms (while many of those creatives such as those I speak of, shun those open arms).
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Creatives I Admire (Part 2) - Those creatives who have experienced, 'going over the edge', have plummeted to the depths of despair, loneliness, emotional and physical pain, are the ones who have the greatest appreciation for beauty and love, and an understanding of the cost paid for loss; and while some do not survive the plunge, their experiences make us understand what it truly is to be ‘human’. Those are the writers/creatives who I gravitate to and admire.
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Creatives I Admire (Part 1) - The writers and creatives I gravitate to, are those who have been driven to the depths of despair, experienced the greatest pain on many levels (physical and emotional), have survived to share with us their experiences, whether they are cast as outsiders or received as enfant terrible geniuses and welcomed by society with open arms (while many of those creatives such as those I speak of, shun those open arms).
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Creatives I Admire (Part 2) - Those creatives who have experienced, 'going over the edge', have plummeted to the depths of despair, loneliness, emotional and physical pain, are the ones who have the greatest appreciation for beauty and love, and an understanding of the cost paid for loss; and while some do not survive the plunge, their experiences make us understand what it truly is to be ‘human’. Those are the writers/creatives who I gravitate to and admire.
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I wonder how many rich names are owned by poor people,how many rich games are played by poor people,how many rich life's are lived by poor people,how many rich graves are containing poor people
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So forever With tears in my eyes, I Will Say love is such a sweet sorrow That I will Grave in My heart your name Till It will be Morrow Forevermore- Christen Kuikoua
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We all are intelligent, capable enough of taking our own decisions. But not listening to others point of view might result in grave accidents. *That's because we have boundaries called* *experience, maturity, short* *sightedness* !!!
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We all are intelligent, capable enough of taking our own decisions. But not listening to others point of view might result in grave accidents. *That's because we have boundaries called* *experience, maturity, short* *sightedness* !!!
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Brief autumn breeze ...
she always wanted to pluck
the reddest roses
—Issa, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch
This is a haiku Issa wrote after the death of his daughter Sato with the note: “Sato, girl, 35th day, at the grave.”
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Will you come to visit my grave, I wonder,
in the season of lightning, the season of thunder,
when I have lain so long in the indifferent earth
that I have no girth?
('Come!' by Michael R. Burch)
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Soon when your wings regains strength
You shall fly so high as if the force of gravity
Has lost its power.
The glitters from your colourful sterling wings
Shall be seen as the stars possessed
By the book of possibilities
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I lived as best I could, and then I died.
Be careful where you step: the grave is wide.
('Eulogy for a Palestinian Child' by Michael R. Burch)
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I thought i was a writer until i met those who never wrote a line but kept many books in their hearts to their graves, then this pen grew ears, eyes and voices but i couldn't write still.
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Trapped in a burning house
Wired with fear and self doubt,
I pretended one day I'd be saved.
But I'd rather jump and fall,
and live crippled and flawed,
than to melt to a cowardly grave.
So I Jumped!%
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When you fall in love you have no weight. Gravity stops working gas it should. That is how you know.
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What is ego? Aggravated irritation, may be our failures, our desires and incapacity to do and get what we need. Let's not take every thing to heart!
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Laying in my graveyard without flowers is like a Virgin breastfeeding a baby
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We all are intelligent, capable enough of taking our own decisions. But not listening to others point of view might result in grave accidents. That's because we have boundaries called experience, maturity, short sightedness.
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The Church and the state are mutually exclusive, to have a church under the state, is to bring the Pulpit to her early grave.
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"Tomorrow remains unseen until man's grave"
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“If everything would be perfect, the world would become a graveyard.”
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I can see it foul~
Two ravens from hell~
On the beaten prowl~
To my grave, they dwell~
In my wake, I sleep~
This blackness runs deep~
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