Acceptance

Sobriety

Folder: 
Wulfman Adventures

Wishing on dropping tears
To have a walled home again
Somewhere to hang my dreams
Not to give up hope
Though sins are cheap
All the false leaping out
Using all known strength
Just to cope

With the yen and pull of sins
For the dope high
Some days it is like a Bengal Tiger
And home seems so far away
Unhooking the tiger’s claws
Grit my teeth, flex my might
Hold the tiger’s tail tight

And wish on fallen tears

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Wishing For Rain

 

Wishing For Rain

 

sleepless nights fade into reflective mornings
and I find myself there
gazing out of winter windows
searching dark horizons
for a glimpse of the rain
that teases my senses with hope
the aroma of things yet to come
lingers heavy upon the sill
and yet if feel no comfort
in the possibility


as dawn stretches and wakes
I slowly begin to realize
her presence is much more demanding
that I could have ever imagined
an overwhelming beauty that majestically
takes hold of everything she touches
turning hearts inside out
changing lives forever
writing and rewriting destiny
ah, such power she does wield


I find myself cringing as I watch the stars
disappear one by one
behind the brilliance of her hues
a faint light of what they use to be
lingering in wait somewhere
on the other side of today
praying for the birth of a whispered dream
to illuminate their presence
so they can be seen shining
within her beauty


but not all stars shine brightly
and not all dreams get dreamt
in that place beyond the slow
tick of time-where dreams die
and broken hearts stay broken
the colors of dawn are just a faint memory
and the stars that fade are soon forgotten


beyond the hush of day
there 'neath radiating skyscapes
I ponder what this revelation
truly means to me-
I'm not a star that shines so bright
I'm not dawn who swallows night
I'm but a girl
standing in a window
beneath fading starlight
wishing it would rain


©LadyRaine

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The Past

 

You cannot recreate the past

You must forge forward into the future

Uncertainty is the only given in life

Take chances don’t save it for when you are dead

Don’t beat yourself up over something that’s already happened

You cannot change the past don’t apologize for it learn from it

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Letting Go

 

My heart is letting go of a tomorrow I picture so clearly

One where you walk beside me always near me

An aisle a house a honeymoon a life

Cut out so easily with only a knife

Feels like yesterday or the week before

But it’s been a year if not more

And here I am the bloods run dry

I have no more tears left to cry

The picture is changing each day

And I don’t yearn for yesterday

I’m moving forward steadily I let go

I’m not the same girl you used to know

Ill be better for having moved past

A daydream that could never last

Its hard to picture it it’s harder not to

My life goes on without you

Futures uncertain that much is true

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Alone

Folder: 
Just me

When I'm outside by myself
I see and hear all
the clouds talk to me
with their movement
the winds call to me  
the trees reply to all my questions
the love bugs fly around all paired up
the movements of the animals in the bushes
question me
while clouds say goodbye
going on a long journey
I watch them
the wind embraces me
as in telling me
they have to go
the trees stop moving like they've already gone
the lovebugs fly away
the animals movements
I can't hear
and then I begin to fear
I'm alone

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At The Suburbs Of Rome

Some said I should not buy a Christian slave,
because they were surly, disobedient, reproachful;
but when I saw the girl, naked on the block,
naked in her recent womanhood
(her bared breasts like buds ripening),
the advice of the world became forgettable quickly;
the bid price, inflated, became satisfactory quickly.

Not because she was property, she obeyed me,
but because that was simply her nature's courtesy.
Not because of the threat of a good beating,
or the snap of the lash plowing her backside---
not because of these that I never mentioned,
and never believed in---she served me,
because she had a rather domestic inclination.

We were thrown in together, as they say, on ourselves
because circumstances were hard, and my parents harder;
an apartment's two rooms, and each day's two meals,
(as much as the world deigned to give us in that time)
seemed to call for the most of both of our efforts.
I could not just let her do all of that alone,
but her skill in such tasks far exceeded my own,
and sometimes she had to take matters in hand, and teach me.

Not even her modesty defied me:
when some old friends from school stopped by one day,
and we entertained them, first on the porch,
then on the lawn beside the house----
when they asked to see her naked;
and she, with downcast eyes, opened that tattered robe
and stepped out of it simply because I had asked her.
In the summer sunlight, her long red hair looked orange;
her perfect tan positively tawny;
and her lithe, slender body poised innocently to our gaze.
But when they wanted, jointly, to rend her
(one after the other?---they debated---or try it together?)
I saw the fear in her eyes and could not bear it.
I told them enough was enough, and they were not welcome
to stay for dinner, or even a moment longer.
Hard words and harder blows were exchanged,
and I behaved like a lunatic recently escaped.
My former best friend's nose shattered directly;
he bled, and wept, and threatened more than once to sue;
and I bore the bruise on my knuckles for a week---
my knuckles that had never been in a fight before.

But when she came to me later that night,
on graceful and grass-stained bare feet,
entirely naked and amorous,
eager to be enjoyed and knowing she would not be rent,
she loved me without the least regard to
---my lack of good looks or good experience;
---the promised love poems I had not yet begun to write;
---the pricey learning that had not bloomed into employment.
She loved me with all of herself, but nothing more or less.
Straddling me there in the night, her knees bent at my sides,
she leaned back on her sturdy arms, her breasts heaving,
and that red hair, dark in the night's sultry darkness,
spilled over my legs as the pleasured poured through her,
punctuated by her screams of delight, and for more
I seemed to mount to the stars and felt them
explode within me within her.  Then, both exhausted,
we snuggled like kittens and slept until the next noon.

Family and friends soon, and completely, disowned me.
And I, myself, disowned her in a way:
I set her free---the last of my savings paid for the papers
to be drawn up and filed with all propriety,
in accordance with the rule and custom of the laws of Rome.
But hardship, whatever kind, was not the reason I freed her;
but because that god, to whom she was devoted,
whom she called the Christ had said "Be not called master."
And how could I, not even master my own life,
pretend to be master to the most beautiful living
being I had ever encountered (then or now)?
Of her own liberty, she came back with me;
lived, ate, slept, and struggled through that time  with me;
and I did not know then how long and how hard
she prayed to her god for me.

She always knew, though I did not, whence came the next meal;
and why the rent collector seemed always to avoid us;
and who were the couple of men (I thought thugs or goons)
always keeping a watchful eye on us.
A certain Senator, himself a Christian---
and in whose spacious home a part of the church met
to worship, and she had gone there sometimes---
offered me the post and trust of secretary,
because she had told him I could keep my mouth shut,
and bore no hostility to their faith whatsoever;
beside that, she told, I was rather a good scholar
who knew all the works of all the greatest poets of love.
Soon after that, I began to see Jesus,
who is called the Christ---no not in the flesh
(I know better than that, I am not an Apostle),
in all of the words and gestures of these people.
And I, who had never thought much of people,
once always ready to believe the worst of people,
came to believe in the goodness of these Christians, people,
and the consistency of their ways.  Believing that, I could
also easily believe in God's Son come back from the dead.

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Here I Am!

A little boy got beat up, and made fun of at school.

No one would help him because he wasn't "cool".

They watched him get hurt and abused, teased and accused...



A teenage girl began her high school life so sad.

It was barely a week earlier that she lost her mom and dad.

No one seemed to care, but they certainly liked to stare...



Until one day when she said...



Here I am!

Can't you see what you're doing to me?!

Here I stand!

Don't just stand there and stare at me!

Come on over because if there's something you must know today

it's that I am not afraid!!!



A simple carpenter with a prophecy, the Son of man...

He turned water into wine, and then one day he died.

Some may not believe, but on that day He saved you and me!!!



He said here I am!

They can't see what they're doing to me!

Here I stand!

I pray that they stand there and believe!

Come to me because if there's something you must know today

it's that I for one am afraid!!!



He did this for you and me...

So this is what I say to Him you see...



Here I am!

Lord come in to my life, and make me blind so I can see!

Here I stand!

I don't want to be looked upon as just another man!

Come with me because if there's something you must know today

it's that I am not afraid!!!

I am not afraid!

I am not afraid...because I know you're here with me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Fear Not...Christ will come for His people, and we will be saved.

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understanding

when your life is upside down and no one cares

when your life is twisted and no one cares

where is the understanding that i need

where is the understanding of what it is

why is the world like a place where its hard to live

why is the world a place where no one cares

what must a person do to get the chance to make a change

what must a person do to make a difference

would it make a difference if i said something

would it matter .....



people ask me why i wont open up and when i do no one listens

so now we know where the understanding is for the world

the reason some people dont open up.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

when people who care wont listen to your opinions and thoughts

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Fear & Religion: All the same

Believe in one or believe in many,
None of it truly matters.
Your pray to ears that do not exist,
Devote yourself to the definition of nothing.
Your gods are nothing more than a fairytale,
Yet you protect them as if they were your children.
Fight for them, Kill for them, Die for them.
When its all over what have you proved?
You prove the weakness in man,
That your fears consume your hearts.
Your minds are ravaged with what they do not understand.

Religion, nothing more than a weapon,
Used to control, used to bring chaotic order.
You hate others who practice their own,
Only yours can be the one true form.
Such mentality is foolish beyond reason,
Fear is all it really amounts to.

The lessons that could be learned,
Are lost in the depths of the pages.
To blind to see what they are trying to teach,
Only focusing on what lies beyond life.
Instead of creating a hostile world,
Just because they are different from you,
Should you not see the truth?
We are all different, but one in the same.
Live, and then die, this is our fate.
Push each other away, this must stop.
Accept thy brother for who he is,
Do not shun, for who he prays to.
 

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