Hope

She beheld her Grace

 


Before his love,
she had been afraid
before his touch,
she had been ashamed

Mirrored in a gaze,
stormy blue
she beheld her Grace,
in clear view

He awoke in her a song
long repressed, so natural
then a dance, demanding rave
with beauty, raw and sensual 

He made her feel safe in love,
to yield to body and voice
he taught her it was always
something meant to be rejoiced



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I Don't Know How It Goes

What do I write about?

The story of my life!
I don't know how it goes, do you?
It's a matter of question to you and me to ponder on.
This side of eternity once given is true........or false in ones perception of it all.
Do you remember or is it I've forgotten in all this distraction freely given, to what ends I do not know.
Make believe is what it is I think. It's here in one moment and gone in the next.
How could it be anything other than
Games, we all play them, in hopes to gain some more of it.
Of, 'it'!, whats 'it'?
Life I said. Don't you remember?
or have you forgotten what it is, what it's all about.
I'll tell you what, lets make believe that I am you, and you are me.
Okay now, tell me about your life.
I don't know how it goes, I've forgotten you.
        
             Copyright 2018 by RW Erskine
Author's Notes/Comments: 

contact me at: artjwca@yahoo.ca

or

vist us at Ravenscraft Studios

https://ravenscraftstudios.weebly.com

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A Spiritual Valley

Sunday morning Gospel

At a southern Baptist church

Praising with the choir

Listening to the Word of God

 

Where grudges are forgiven

And friendships re-united

We sinners find forgiveness,

Family, and a home

 

But here I sit

Alone at home

I couldn't be roused

To my own Father's house

 

I can hear the church bells in the distance

Calling white-washed tombs to repentance

Calling broken souls to be renewed

Calling crushed hopes to stand firm

 

Yet, here I sit

Looking out the window alone

Listening to their tolling

Refusing to be more

Than an armchair theologian

 

If my “deeds” are just words

Then they are not worth talking of

If I didn't speak to my Father today

Then why do I expect answers

 

If we are “the Body”

Why are we so apathetic

So CONSUMED by our own lives

That our faith wastes away

 

And as these thoughts come to me

I make myself more comfortable

Still refusing to be any more

Then an armchair theologian.

In contrasts to your darkness and light is your will to live

Folder: 
Humanity

 

From the coals of sacred texts, brought fouth from ancient whispers of a circle of unbroken time, dipping and acendinding its change state, as the one constant in unending continuity. Therein lies a simple truth, corrupted with gentle persuasion. 

 

The state of being, the being of state and status of beings. 

There are three main laws for us to purview and avail here and now, or in past and future possibility. There is one rule that seperates, yet, reconsiles and is master of all truth; ugly or beautiful it renders life in death, death  into life and life into death. 

 

to live evil live to  - live.d.evil

to Evo L ovE to 

 

The cycle that never alters its identity making Its mood known in all forms and states; the All as in the We collective; and as the I; AGAPI, the known mystery of presiding over both and the first of the third.

 

Go.d  and evil.

 

Live with the hidden truth in plain sight. Felt  with intense realness,  hidden in semantics of languages  long lost and forgotten,  but none is needed to unless seeking to corrupt the incorruptible what is known and fails in explanation.

 

For  this very reason,  the logic of AGAPI (love) in all its moods, colours, ugliness and beauty fail to be described. And still, the poets' pride tries in vain to capture the whole.  Ever so often though, glimpses resonate and we can see a temporal portal with the promise of the indescribable known.

 

Blessingss

Author's Notes/Comments: 

For the few temporal and literal scholars here who might find something of interest here. Blessings and Hugss 

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Tomorrow

Tomorrow

By jfarrell

 

Tomorrow will not be the same as today;

It never is.

Spilt coffee, missed bus,

A million different reasons, mishaps.

 

Tomorrow will not be the same as today;

You can convince yourself it is….

But when you review it..

You’ll see that at least one tiny thing was different.

 

Tomorrow will not be the same as today;

What if…

You make a different choice….

Tea, instead of coffee…. try a pub, instead of drinking alone.

 

Tomorrow will not be the same as today;

It never is.

Tomorrow is not written, it hasn’t happened;

Maybe, tomorrow can be different? Better?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

maybe i can dig up jimi's body and sew his fingers onto mine - then i'll be able to play like hendrix ;-)

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start as mean to go on

Start, as you mean to go on

By jfarrell

 

(inspired by coldplay and Sting’s brand new day )

 

My fingers bleed from racing them 6 strings…

Since I realized I can play guitar….

….”Don’t stop me now, I’m having such a good time…”

 

I’ve just turned 50,

And as a new year starts

I will be starting as I mean to go on….

 

Blasting out T-Rex and Chuck Berry licks….

‘Mirror in the bathroom’ with

‘My browned eyed girl’

 

And that sweet, so sweet…

‘red, red wine….’

….’ a taste of honey, is worse than none at all…’

 

…...depressed, drowning, for so long….

….just wanting to die…please… what a coward, let me go…

NO!…. now….

 

‘I can’t let the sun go down on me’….

Won’t….. can’t….

I was ready, now… all of a sudden I ain’t!

 

Turn the ‘Gain’ ALL the way up….

Just a little more volume….

… and start as I mean to go on!!!!!

 

‘Take a little bit of my heart now, baby….’

‘I’m your toy, 20th Century boy….’

 

‘we’re starting up a brand new day.’

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

just can't work why NOW i can play! been trying 32 years, hehe

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50 was a crossroads

50 was a crossroads

By jfarrell

 

I did have a party on my 50th birthday…

And it was decided on your votes and contributions;

And, I think, it was great!!

 

My first birthday party, ever

Two folks did turn up..

Definitely better than no-one.

 

And we spent the night jamming on guitar;

With everybody begging me to stop singing, hehe

But, it’s my party and I’ll sing if I want to.

 

The real guitarist, I hadn’t seen him in a couple years;

And ‘Dodge’; well he couldn’t dodge the end of this friendship…

“Jim, you’re always so negative.”

 

A crossroads;

A natural ending, without bitterness;

My last friends and I go our separate ways.

 

“The times we had were great, we gotta keep in touch….”

We, all three, nodded, big smiles…

But.. the smile never quite reached our eyes….

 

I maybe losing the remnants of the only last good thing I got left;

Maybe, depression, pain, clouds my judgement….

….but

 

Maybe…

To move on to something better…

I gotta let something, stale, go….

 

 

Author's Notes/Comments: 

moving on, maybe.....

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wolf unleashed

Wolf Unleashed

By jfarrell

 

(loved them old horror films, lon chaney jr, peter cushing..)

 

My 50th birthday was my Lon Chaney Jr. Moment….

Collapsed, out of site,

Behind the kitchen table;

Emerge;

Everytime a bit hairier;

Everytime my teeth, especially my canines (vampire teeth);

A bit longer,

A bit sharper.

 

With each rise above the kitchen table…

More hair, longer teeth, and my clothes more ripped, more shredded…

…it happened…

Thank you

Lon Chaney Jr.

 

I became the Mr Hyde I’ve always waited to become….

And I’m so happy….

It’s the not the evil child raping monster I was expecting….

I CAN play guitar… DAMN…. I can play T’rex, Chuck Berry…

I can jam along with Clapton, Van Morrison, Iron Maiden…

 

I’m far from good… YET… but, damn, I CAN play

And I WILL get better

Like Lon Chaney Jr…

I gonna get more hairy….

I gonna let them teeth grow down to my knees….

Damn, am I gonna get hairy….

Hair alll the way down to my feet….

…..

AHHHHROOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooooooooooooooOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

That’s my werewolf howl :-)

 

Dr Who got a new regeneration on Xmas Day;

I got mine first ;-)

Author's Notes/Comments: 

always loved them old horror movies

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The Beast Inside...

The beast inside…

© 2017 SachikoMochiko " Sachi Ruaya

 

What’s worse than killing someone? Leaving them suffering alive. Now, whether or not they suffer is up to them…

 

Cracks…that’s how the light comes in.

 

You found that someone,

Who you deem; is the last piece of you

O’ but that one…that other one just "

How long will your grip hold?

 

 

It’s a dark feeling; jealousy

Where green, grey and black swirls weave your heart

Like steel, poison ivy 

 

 

As your blood curdles and boils,

your red-laced eyes eyeball

That one who touched your precious

 

 

Your precious gem that you admire from afar.

Your precious one, who births a hazy warm chest.

Your precious half…the other fading half of you.

 

 

But you refrain from killing

And instead of making arrangements to prey,

You keep that one alive  but suffering from your fangs

 

Your inner beast lurks inside,

already devoured half of you and yourself.

Its true form will not feast unless you do

 

 

Your fangs…its fangs bite, drawing thick, oozy blood

Of the one you hold captive in your prison

All for that one precious one, you shed blood

 

 

Your bite…your torture…your beast

Is a reflection of the steel, poison ivy

Is a being born from your selfishness…your jealousy

 

 

But you continue to feast even when you know

Know that this beast will soon consume your flesh, Bone-clean

Because pleasure will come from ones’ suffering

 

 

You are blinded by the beast; your scarlet eyes see no more,

the beauty of your precious gem…

BlurryVivid. Pitch-black.

 

 

You have lost sight of your intentions,

And your precious gem’s light is no more

Now, you know: You. Are. Devoured.

 

 

You sit there on the bottom of the beast’s stomach

Living with the pure darkness of your own

Alone. With your crackling, dry heart -unable to love

 

 

After all, you were just blind.

Destined to lurk in darkness.

 

 

Emptiness. Your skin slowly peels off from the dry darkness

Slowly…painfully, in this prison, the veil is ripped

Revealing something undeniably powerful

 

You.

 

 

The bleeding wounds of which the skin is peeled

Thus, shunned the lies and unveils the truth

The truth of you embedded inside -within the beast

 

The light suppresses the dry darkness 

With your passion, memories, joy and love

You slice through the belly…striving for freedom once more!

 

 

Author’s Note: 

 

This is one of the small fragments to ready one of my upcoming masterpiece. I will write more poems like this (having the same motivational force). WORRY is next.



 
 

© 2017 SachikoMochiko

Author's Notes/Comments: 
This is one of the "practice" poems so I can produce a higher quality work for a special someone of mine:)

Gosh...my punctuation is bad. Just like any other poems I post here, it ain't finished. Still more reviewing to be done. But overall, I hope you enjoy XD

=

Jealousy, eh? Just a quick note, any poem I write is nearly always based off of my true feelings and recent events/emotions. 
"I thought it was good but felt it would be better if it was a story...it feels like your using a lot of words which is good but feel it would make an amazing story if it had a bit more body in it... not sure what type of criticism you wanted. I think you would be amazing at writing stories I’m not being negative I agree with what the person below said just think it’s more story like xx" - Simba
"Raw and honest.Outstanding imagery in words and visuals. I can picture you in my head, shouting these words at the person this story is intended for. My only little critique is that there are more than a few harsh words used that I would have replaced with something different. He's not returning your love but you can't force someone to do so. Other than that brilliant as always I look forward to the rest of the story " Thedeus Hobbs