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    marye
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    By suggestion, a place for the poets among us to post their words.

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  • sherbear
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    One for Bob Dylan
    BobAs evening graced my deck I looked up at the sky through the leafless branches of the sweet Maple Trees knowing the days ago Their Golden Leaves fell All Around Me, Loving me like the Lyrics of Your Songs. xo I stood in the moonlight All Alone in This night with you, Mr. Dylan. Loving you with All My Heart In the Moonlight @ Midnight For t he Letters of your Words meant Everything, To Me. And I told God how much I loved you, reguarlessly X~ ~ of how you felt about it and the Rest of It. Everynight is a Good Night when It comes to My Love, for you. Thank you for All Your Words. I Love You, Mr. B. Dylan ---------------------(---@ Sherry B
  • JerseySchwartz
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    Modernize Us This One Time
    It's time in our neighborhood to say hello to everyoneFrom window to window, call and response voices cast welcome to the wind. Everyone who passes through is renewed with the revival of the hearts best intention Acts, true to the way of love, bind similarities amongst species, aglow in the light of their lord. Soul's reflective in the midterm, giving thanks for this transition of season Amongst the sacrifice, as kind (light) mind of universal understanding beckons. Bravo, it's time to listen again to thee provocateur of master verse Maestro, lessons were given, students were taught. Unfamiliar animals laugh over solutions neither of them know that much about Formulating a sense of shared improvement proven upon the chance to smell lucky. Do tell, let the people be heard, "gas is for losers" so says the highway of deduction Back seat beauty tips, being certain is better, engine size isn't as important as driving hard. Miscellaneous dilemma developed a complicated knot of a north corner's dyslectic k turn Defeated in its delegated limitation, who ever does the most with the least wins. From a measure of regurgitate exhausted, cough coal's scientific disappointment with the dull flat earth We are free to maintain intervals of penetration, causing an effect upon the firmaments maintenance. Yield, no say over content, arguing over the right of way in the passing lane In the war against innovation, medical technology and energy independence. Industrial trail, lost road home, sharing the cud of a fuel source, future modern Will lead us to follow, with the blessings of hot sauce and winter wheels. They've painted a painting of a rear view mirror, think they can see themselves? Being intuitive as air discovered inside the modern day myth of melted glaciers. Ghostly grain of the night flower where once only roots took hold Of our family and friends who've died have left us behind to dignify each other.
  • sherbear
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    Had to go to the Parlor Tonight...
    Came by to read some of your words,like I always do but never post here. Thank you All who post your poetry in this thread. I shouldn't have been silent with my praise for so long. It's such a great thread! Inspired by the evenings moments and my old friend who has now has reached his ultimate high and new location, I'll leave one here. He was a songwriter and guitar player. We rocked out a great Me and Bobby MeGee. He sang Put Another Log On The Fire with a grin that you couldn't help smiling with. He's gone...so this one is for him and y'all. This poem was written in the early 1990's after an old lady I knew died that spring. She was very poor and rented a small second floor apartment that the landlord never updated since he bought the place in the 1950's. She lived alone and seldom complained. She loved God and prayed to a picture of Jesus in a garden by a hill. She was resilient to her poverty. Her clothes were often torn or tattered, though she wore them proudly. This scene is her funeral. Her family pooled their money together to give her this gift. The Poor Woman Dies It was warm in the room, the lights were soft and comfortable. The walls were papered with rich golden felt-stenciled diamonds. The chairs were hand-crafted leather and they embraced your exterior when you sat noble in them. The carpet under-foot was an elegant pattern of roses in bloom, double padded underneath. The tissue boxes had their own brass holders. The scent of fresh flowers surrounded each person and it penetrated their clothes. She was at the far end of this incredibly large room. So tucked in her silk-lined coffin. She was stunning. Her blonde white hair was magnificant and not one was out of place. The make-up she wore softened the years underneath. Her dress was dreamy, a pastel color, with an overcoat to match. And placed precisely where it should be, the most beautiful brooch I'd ever seen. The kneeling bench beside her casket invited me to gaze longer. This woman had never lain in such a fine place. She had it all, every last thing. Her pillow was brand new.
  • JerseySchwartz
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    Bob Dylan Show Notes Nov-14-2010 Monmouth U
    It's time in our neighborhood to say hello to everyone.From window to window call and response voices cast welcome to the wind. Bravo it's time to listen again to thee provocateur of master verse Maestro lessons were given, students were taught. Soul reflective in the midterm giving thanks for the transition of the season. Amongst the sacrifice as the kind (light) mind of universal understanding. They painted a painting of a rear view mirror, think they can see themselves? As intuitive air discovered inside a myth of melted glacier. Miscellaneous complications, defeated in their limitations delegated Engine size isn't as important as driving hard. Industrial trail, lost road home sharing the cud of a fuel source future modern Will lead us to follow, with the blessings of hot sauce and winter wheels.
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    oh my gosh golly gee
    Oh my goshGolly gee What is this feeling That has Come over me; It's too thick to be Melted butter, Runs too fast To be an egg; It's a warm wet feeling Sliding down my neck. Working its' way back slow Flowing right into my spine Now I gotta move Cause it's starting to climb That is probably A good time Good time. I got stuck in Reno Just before the fall And I had to Take it all I had to take it all. I got a condition That ain't gone bad Where is my physician For when I'm feeling mad. Silly me, I left my Heart in the bay Washed up on the shore of dreams. Nothing remains Not what it seems. More like the reverse In a funny upside down Inside out world Of circus fleas And dirty underwear. I got stuck in Reno Just before the fall And I had to Take it all I had to take it all.
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    If (Waters)
    If (Waters) If I were a swan, I'd be gone. If I were a train, I'd be late. And if I were a good man, I'd talk with you More often than I do. If I were to sleep, I could dream. If I were afraid, I could hide. If I go insane, please don't put Your wires in my brain. If I were the moon, I'd be cool. If I were a book, I would bend for you. If I were a good man, I'd understand The spaces between friends. If I were alone, I would cry. And if I were with you, I'd be home and dry. And if I go insane, And they lock me away, Will you still let me join in the game? If I were a swan, I'd be gone. If I were a train, I'd be late again. If I were a good man, I'd talk with you More often than I do.
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    Within You Without You - George Harrison
    Within You Without You - George Harrison We were talking About the space between us all And the people Who hide themselves behind a wall Of illusion Never glimpse the truth Then it's far too late When they pass away We were talking About the love we all could share When we find it To try our best to hold it there With our love, with our love We could save the world, if they only knew Try to realize it's all within yourself No one else can make you change And to see you're really only very small And life flows on within you and without you We were talking About the love that's gone so cold And the people Who gain the world and lose their soul They don't know They can't see Are you one of them When you've seen beyond yourself Then you may find, peace of mind is waiting there And the time will come when you see we're all one And life flows on within you and without you
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    stupid power
    stupid powerwar and hate whoo hoo run as far as you can with it it still gets you no where when you're using dead flesh to haul your load around how smart can you get? you're working with nothing but meanness and anger that ain't got no smart in it running around town to tell everybody, but you got no idea how to run your own show you just set off at the first thing that lets you blow your smokey smoke while the gardener quietly gardens and the flowers steadily grow what a season for wild flowers the streets were full of the heavenly rainbow glows now it is time to rip up what won't make it through the winter while I rub your neck with oil don't think that I don't know one piece was made for the other piece so right to take it slow walking on love power no need to run on stupid power anymore hate don't thrill me walking the line won't kill me if you weren't listening I wouldn't be higher without the death of my desire upon the spit of your fear without your frightful actions I'd still be splattered across your windshield of tears until the wiper's swipe washes the picture clear she was just a city girl you are a princess of the paddies walking ankle deep in water bending to pick a lotus near the iridescent carp twisting out of view let the fear dream dissolve to reveal what was happening all the time your dreams already come true walking through the city of light a touch of your thought raising shatters the dream all about you and so the sick man puts away his bed and sits at meal and stays away from stupid power and walks in the light following always his best sense of right he meets her in the clearing in the woods and they have a picnic while the animals of the forest sit about and watch as the afternoon light pierces the canopy with its golden hues
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    Behind Blue Eyes - Pete Townshend
    Behind Blue Eyes - Pete Townshend No one knows what it's like To be the bad man To be the sad man Behind blue eyes No one knows what it's like To be hated To be fated To telling only lies But my dreams They aren't as empty As my conscience seems to be I have hours, only lonely My love is vengeance That's never free No one knows what it's like To feel these feelings Like I do And I blame you No one bites back as hard On their anger None of my pain and woe Can show through But my dreams They aren't as empty As my conscience seems to be I have hours, only lonely My love is vengeance That's never free When my fist clenches, crack it open Before I use it and lose my cool When I smile, tell me some bad news Before I laugh and act like a fool If I swallow anything evil Put your finger down my throat If I shiver, please give me a blanket Keep me warm, let me wear your coat No one knows what it's like To be the bad man To be the sad man Behind blue eyes
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    My great big love song
    My great big love song ooooh, baby, yeah Pick any three chords To back it up I'm so tired I'm going to sleep Play it like you mean it And bring it with a Big finish ooooh, baby, yeah ooooh, baby ooooh, baby, yeah
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By suggestion, a place for the poets among us to post their words.
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Conception,Birth., Beauty. Sickness, Old age, Death. Conception, Rebirth Stop. I just want To stop. Or at least Slow down At the Beauty part. Please?
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Long time no hear, Free. Let us know if you're still kicking in Vermont's poet cathedral...
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Musical notes fallSynapses register joy Crazy toe traction
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In Houghton-le-Spring,If you hear a bird sing, It wouldn’t be that rare I must say. But if you see one dance Then it must be from France In County Durham on holiday. It’s just too absurd To suggest British birds Partake in dances of any kind. At least not in full view, That will never do. British birds are far too refined. A poem from my latest collection of comic verse for Children... Further info here: http://originalwriting.ie/bookshop/poetry/a-poets-nonsensical-journey-t…
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Tears and Time Glistening Tears Crystalline Drops Streaming Alone Through Smiling Grooves Meeting Their Bed of Tissues like Flesh Leaves the Spirit to Depart From It Unable to Reverse It Nothing You Can Do The Drops of Reality in those Tissues... Could Water the Crops and Extinguish a Wildfire With Their... Painful & Somber Voyage. Ah but Now Those Tissues Become Like The Fabric of a Mother's Apron on a Sunny Afternoon. Oh... It Must Be Time To Play. 'Mother Mary Come's to Me Speaking Words of Wisdom... Let It Be." "La,la,la,la...."
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I don't have a poetic bone in my body(and I really do enjoy reading the poetry here), but a recent event which happened to me earlier this week during my lunch break inspired me to try my hand at this most cool haiku - so here goes: Flies on fresh dog doo squishing through my five bare toes should have stayed in bed not exactly enlightening or insightful (or"a heavy sense of Zen") but it does leave the reader with a vivid mental image..........lol and hope you are too :D PS. I was eating my daily refried bean sandwich when this happened and the irony was not lost on my laughing hyena coworkers.
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Promise Yourself... To be so strong that nothing can disturb your peace of mind. To talk health, happiness and prosperity to every person you meet. To make all your friends feel that there is something in them. To look at the sunny side of everything and make your optimism come true. To think of only the best, to work only for the best, and to expect only the best. To be just as enthusiastic about the success of others as you are about your own. To forget the mistakes of the past and press on to the greater achievements of the future. To wear a cheerful countenance at all times and give every living creature you meet a smile. To give so much time to the improvement of yourself that you have no time to criticize others. To be too large for worry, too noble for anger, too strong for fear, and too happy to permit the presence of trouble. By Christian D. Larson
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My brothers, if someone is detectedby sin, you who live by the spirit should gently set him right, each of you trying to avoid falling into temptation himself. 2 Help carry one another's burdens; in that way you will fulfill the law of Christ. 3 If anyone thinks he amounts to something, when in fact he is nothing, he is only deceiving himself. 4 Each man should look to his conduct; if he has reason to boast of anything, it will be because the achievement is his and not another's. 5 Everyone should bear his own responsibility. 6 The man instructed in the word should all he has with his instructor. 7 Make no mistake about it, no one makes a fool of God! A man will reap only what he sows. 8 If he sows in in the field of flesh, he will reap a harvest of corruption; but if his seed-ground is the spirit, he will reap everlasting life. 9 Let us not grow weary of doing good; if we do not relax our efforts, in due time we shall reap our harvest. 10 While we have the opportunity, let us do good to all men --- especially those of the house-hold of faith. GALATIANS 6: 1-10 NAB 1970
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The loneliest sound I knowfalls like hail on a tin roof. Each stone leaves its dent. Less permanent: the clattering cacophony of Chicken Little's forecast come true. Once, my sky had fallen; my voice was erased. Now, all I can do is type.
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Thanks Mike,(My personal lament follows yours) When you purse your lips like that does your anus pucker up as well? When you arrogantly deny obvious reality Are worms gnawing holes in your brain? Do you honestly believe we Wouldn't rather have to deal with you? Landlords are the greatest advertisement for collective, communal co-habitation. Thanks again Mike- all credit to you!
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Thanks slo and Anna, but how would I like it to be credited? Two shy of a dozen formicidae, would do it, I'm thinking: By Ten Ants
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the cats don't knowwhat to think about the bats flying mice flickering shadows of night fall the cats sit alert eyes skyward ears rotoring tracking the bats high-pitched clicking flitting ravenously by
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LONE GOOSE The flocks of geese are Headed south Honking and screeching And forming into vees Flying all night alone Now the day breaks But he doent know it, he doesn't rest Or even slow down He's got to get back To his one true love The only one who Knows his sound He calls and calls As he flaps and flaps For he knows she Has many suitors And their bright feathers Might lure her away So the day breaks With a north wind And dense fluffy clouds And he honks her name And flaps and flaps.
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"They are like treesplanted along the riverbank, bearing fruit each season without fail. Their leaves never wither, and in all they do, they prosper." -Psalm I:3 NLT Beautifully did Sunday morning become Sunday Afternoon. The Grateful Dead Hour Rocked the Repeat Function of no.1083. "In the end there's just a song..." "Gonna make em shine..." -Lovelight Intact- ~ sherbear, XO!
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Nice to see you back in the poet's hangout. You've been missed!
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Hey now. Hew now. Hai-ku Hai-ku all day. Joco mo fe no na na Oops. I ran out of syllables. Needed one more. Sucks when that happens.
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My girlfriend left me a prose note today, which I then arranged as lines of verse and added a title: Two Unshooed One fly in here and I swear the door was opened momentarily while carrying the litter out front Second fly in the front house not sure how that one got in
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GOOD HEART A GOOD HEART IS BOTH IMPORTANT AND EFFECTIVE IN DAILY LIFE. IF IN A SMALL FAMILY, EVEN WITHOUT CHILDREN, THE MEMBERS HAVE A WARM HEART FOR EACH OTHER, A PEACEFUL ATMOSPHERE WILL BE CREATED. HOWEVER, IF ONE OF THE PERSONS FEELS ANGRY, IMMEDIATELY THE ATMOSPHERE IN THE HOUSE BECOMES TENSE. DESPITE GOOD FOOD OR A NICE TELEVISION SET, YOU WILL LOSE PEACE AND CALM. THUS THINGS DEPEND MORE ON THE MIND THAN ON THE MATTER. MATTER IS IMPORTANT, WE MUST HAVE IT, WE MUST USE IT PROPERLY BUT IN THIS CENTURY WE MUST COMBINE A GOOD BRAIN WITH A GOOD HEART. H.H. THE XIV TH DALAI LAMA -------------------------------(-----@ Paper produced by hand and is a double dowel scroll with a hand- braided multi-colored string for hanging. Brought to my home from A World Peace Ceremony. Indeed, a wonderful mediation for All, xo.
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THE RIVER IS HERE Down the mountain the river flows, And it brings refreshing wherever it goes, Through the valleys and over the fields The river is rushing, and the river is here. The river of God sets our feet to dancing; The river of God fills our hearts with cheer; The river of God fills our mouths with laughter, And we rejoice for the river is here. By Andy Park
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What do you see while yougaze into a high mountain pool? Do you perceive the reflection of your exquisite Spirit? What do you feel while you tread the mossy carpet of a virgin forest? Do you feel the heartbeat of It's enchanted Sacred Ground? What do you know while you stare in wonder at the dark, stormy skies? Do you then know the forceful Power of the Great Spirit? What do you see? What do you feel? What do you know? May you acknowledge the voice within, and harken to its power and wisdom. -The Dawning Ember
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ParallaxProcessing
I am writing
about writing

capitalized first person singular pronoun
present tense auxiliary-verb progressive aspect verb
preposition gerund

I was writing
about writing and
then I wrote
more about writing

capitalized first person singular pronoun past
tense auxiliary-verb progressive aspect verb
preposition gerund conjunction adverb capitalized
first person singular pronoun past tense verb
adjective preposition gerund

I have written
about writing
and written writings
about those writings

capitalized first person singular pronoun past tense
auxiliary-verb past tense verb preposition gerund
conjunction past tense verb gerund preposition
demonstrative pronoun gerund


You are reading
about reading

capitalized second person plural pronoun
present tense auxiliary-verb progressive aspect verb
preposition gerund

You were reading
about reading and
then you read
more about reading

capitalized second person plural pronoun past
tense auxiliary-verb progressive aspect verb
preposition gerund conjunction adverb second
person plural pronoun past tense verb adjective
preposition gerund

You have read
about reading
and read readings
about those readings

capitalized second person plural pronoun past tense
auxiliary-verb past tense verb preposition gerund
conjunction past tense verb gerund preposition
demonstrative pronoun gerund
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Now I know why I never did well in English! Excellent poem with simmering symmetry!
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Purpose of This Letter This is now, beloved, the second letter I am writing to you in which I am stirring up your sincere mind by way of a reminder, that you should remember the words spoken beforehand by the holy prophets and the command- ment of the Lord and Savior spoken to the apostles. Know this first of all, that in the last days mockers will come with their mocking, following after their own lusts, and saying, "Where is the promise of His coming? For ever since the fathers fell asleep, all continues just as it was from the beginning of creation. For when they maintain this, it escapes their notice that by the word of God the heavens existed long ago and the earth was formed out of water and by water, through which the world was destroyed, being flooded by water. But by His word the present heavens and earth are being reserved for fire, kept for the day of judgement and destruction of ungodly men. But do not let this one fact escape your notice, beloved, that with the Lord one day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years like one day. The Lord is not slow about His promise, as some count slowness, but is patient toward you, not wishing for any to perish but for all to come to repentance. But the day of the Lord will come like a thief, in which the heavens will pass away with a roar and the elements will be destroyed with intense heat, and the earth and its works will be burned up. Since all these things are to be destroyed in this way, what sort of people ought you to be in holy conduct and godliness, looking for and hastening the coming of the day of God, because of which the heavens will be destroyed by burning, and the elements will melt with intense heat! But according to His promise we are looking for new heavens and a new earth, in which righteousness dwells. Therefore, beloved, since you look for these things, be diligent to be found by Him in peace, spotless and blameless, and regard the patience of our Lord as salvation; just as also our beloved brother Paul, according to the wisdom given him, wrote to you, as also in all his letters, speaking in them of these things in which some are hard to understand, which the untaught and unable distort, as they do also the rest of the Scriptures, to their own destruction. You therefore, beloved, knowing this beforehand, be on your guard so that you are not carried away by the error of unprincipled men and fall from your own steadfastness, but grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. To Him be the glory, both now and to the day of, eternity. Amen. -2 PETER 3
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They say that a warren is a networkof interconnecting burrows, like a rabbit hole, hence, Haynes can be seen as a space into which we fall, like Alice tumbling, we watch as the composition of the whole flashes by while revealing its many notable parts, like Tears of a Clown, Norwegian Wood, Eleanor Rigby, Mountain Jam, and so much more as yet to be determined.
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Tend to have more have an intimate relationship with black ice... Stylish, low-profile crampons, anyone?
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A few years ago my wife and I were walking to a theater to see Lou Reed. I slipped on the blackest of black ice, landed square on my back. It hurt, a lot. Other folks -- complete strangers -- walking down the same sidewalk stopped to make sure that I was ok, helped me up, and so on. My wife? Barely able to stand herself...because she was laughing so hard. Apparently it was the funniest thing she's ever seen. She still talks about it. Thanks, sweetheart.
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there once was a band with a websitethat lett people chat all night with millions of topics including philanthropics but a motive of profit started to make it a bad fit and nobody named rhino could change it we're all left to wonder was it an IT blunder or deadhead rhinoids with heads split asunder that was driving their website under in retrospect so simple hire people who can make websites a wonder and stop the product/commercial blunder and you'll sell a shitload of product happily everafter before a bust of Jerry in alabaster plaster
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Unity in the Mystical Body I plead with you, then, as a prisoner for the Lord to live a life worthy of the calling you have received, 2 with perfect humility, meekness, and patience, bearing with one another lovingly. 3 Make every effort to preserve the unity which has the Spirit as its origin and peace as its binding force. 4 There is but one body and one Spirit, just as there is but one hope given all of you by your call. 5 There is one Lord, one faith, one baptism; 6 one God and Father of all, who is over all, and works through all, and is in all. Ephesians 6: 1-6 NAB
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"though my soul may set in darkness, it will rise in perfect light; i have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the night" -from her beautiful poem, "the old astronomer"
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God in His infinite wisdom Did not make me very wise- so when my actions are stupid They hardly take God by surprise -langston hughes
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We do not care-That much is clear. Not enough Of us care Anywhere. We are not wise- For that reason Mankind dies. To think Is much against The will. Better- And easier- To kill. -langston hughes' poem "war and wisdom"
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I For the longest while I didn't think I had anything to say. Then, it occurred to me that maybe the problem was there was no one I wanted to say anything to. Now, I'm not so sure, either way, but I'm listening more mindfully, and hearing words yet unspoken, again and again, and with such resounding clarity at times that I am moved to write the thoughts I think I have heard II Part of my reluctance, if you could call it that, to be my own bellringer for the longest while, it was decades if a day, arises from the knowledge, of which I am fairly certain following years of informal field research into the issue, that it has indeed all been said before, and probably said better than my meager poetic means will ever come to muster. I saw no point, then, in being derivative, knowing well that was all I would ever be. III Any self-imposed silence, I knew, would be unoriginal. But I was no Stoic in my having-nothing-to-say, nor would I ever be confused with a silently suffering saint. Even with not a thing to say, I always found injustices to make noise about, if only to draw attention to my plight, which, to my recollective secondary sight looks as unfocused as it was unfounded, but at the time it seemed real and imposing enough for me to raise a serious stink about. IV What gives a bell its tone is not simply the material of which the chime is cast, which, otherwise arranged, would only clank or clang. Rather, it is the void defined by the placement of material wherein emerges the ringing.
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LOVE is patient;live is kind. Love is not jealous or boastful; it is not arrogant or rude. Love does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable- or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things, Love never ends. This is apart of a beautiful picture all set in pink roses in bloom that I had given my Dad long ago that has just came back to me. Sher-ing the love my Dad gave... to me, xo!
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Saved a blue jellybean todayFrom his arch-enemies Acid and enzymes Named him "Puddles" Put a collar on him And together we walked home Puddles has taken to his new Surroundings rather well And the neighbors just adore him But the only thing this Stubborn-ass, blue mule is good at Is "staying" So Puddles and I had a Heart-to-heart And cleared the air And from that gentle session, I learned If I breathe on Puddles just right.....just right He will ever so kindly oblige and "roll over" Awwwwwwwwwwwwww....... Sweet, blue Puddles You're a keeper -sl
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The Unknown Date It's of an uncontrollable time. There...just... to be waiting for Spring (sigh) I've not waited for the lush Earth the buds upon the Maple. I guess- ever, so I hath something new today in the cold. The frozen milky snow to all be drunk and the sweet breeze to dry the rocks and hills. Then on the true greens of the fertile soil the beginning of the end begins again.
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most often what I so dearly miss is that pure loving tender kiss the kind that came out of nowhere.. influenced by purpose the kind that could take a long day of my misery and melt it into a gently flowing stream of something other-worldly the kind that could make me feel like everything here on earth is exactly as everything should be the kind that softly silently profoundly cried out I love you and I care
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Full of mycelliumRichness of blue Comes right on cue.
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sittinghours on end glued to this screen ingesting beautiful poetry from the vault empty fridge laundry piled high blessed assured it's clearly all of you's thoughtful fault
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So beautiful are these writingsI've kept with a vast keeping of black and whites filled with greatness and nothingness- collectively. An excerpt from- THE PILLOW BOOK OF SEI SHONAGON TRANSLATED AND EDITED BY IVAN MORRIS I. In Spring It Is the Dawn In spring it is the dawn that is most beautiful. As the light creeps over the hills, their outlines are dyed a faint red and wisps of purplish cloud trail over them. In summer the nights. Not only when the moon shines, but on dark nights too, as the fireflies flit to and fro, and even when it rains, how beautiful it is! In autumn the evenings, when the glittering sun sinks close to the edge of the hills and the crows fly back to their nests in threes and fours and twos; more charming still is a file of wild geese, like specks in the distant sky. When the sun has set, one's heart is moved by the sound of the wind and the hum of the insects. In winter the early morning. It is beautiful indeed when snow has fallen during the night, but splendid too when the ground is white with frost; or even when there is no snow or frost, but it is simply very cold and the attendants hurry from room to room stirring up the fires and bringing charcoal, how well this fits the season's mood! But as noon approaches and the cold wears off, no one bothers to keep the braziers alight, and soon nothing remains but piles of white ashes. COLUMBIA UNIVERSITY PRESS NEW YORK