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Mark Wanless Sep 2023
angels of heaven
torture a mind to persist
in the realm of god
Man Aug 2023
On the waterfront, in a freight car-
Call it passion, call it desire.
Whatever it is that inspires-
That thing that wrings
One more day out.

What songs angels sing!
As they ferry souls along,
On flight, in wing
En route:
But the dead walk amongst the living, too,
And sometimes even angels get confused.

Poor, empty vassal
Brian Aug 2023
It begins as a soft cry
one voice alone
stepping forward
challenging the dark
something so pure
the wounds of being used
keep our trust in it subdued

and then it begins
the voice is changing
wait no
things around it are changing
they are turning
to the source of this cry
which is growing now
into an echo
and now in my chest
this voice I know
not from my mind
but my heart, my soul
it's calling me home
but not the one I own
but was promised

the echo that was just a child
has now grown into a thunder
one that numbers the thousands
one that is so booming
paint is shaking from the walls
it rises from the horizon
waking the entire Earth
something greater than emotion
overcomes my very being
and now the planet
has become a choir
the sky can no longer contain
our voices fly to the heavens
an entire love story
wrapped in a single word
one I can trust with my life
may it fall from my lips at my end
amen
amen
I S A A C Aug 2023
just molted
new body still sensitive
your fingers brushed through my hair
my perspective is questioning
birds eye view to warped perception
confidence then second guessing
snow angels in the backyard
tears in the diary
smoke joints in the backyard
fears feel so fiery
your fingers traced my cracked heart
my fingers drew you and your scars
i just molted
new heart still sensitive
David Hilburn May 2023
Just, how cold?
Odd, the thought of passion
Should a sky have one to hold
Forever is now to fold, a prayer lasting...

Life in a walls shadow
Circumstance, with a youth's vow
Seek, and you shall find, all and know
A heart with happiness, only before how...

The sound of love...
Harried by a salt, a cursory share
Of decency, a proud covenant
With moments to quietly care...

Curious prayer's indeed
Means with a psyche, rounder eyes
Have the sense to see it, heed
A role in heaven, where one more life...

Is our's forever, fate in the first place
Sweet about, and a whole day to dream
Came as we went, from here to infinite praise
The truth of a world, taken to seem...
The power of the poor at heart, is it a clash with angel's to start eternity...?!
The living shall worship 🛐 thy Lord as the Angels adore Him on the throne. Off their faces with their golden crowns 👑+ bowing down. Their songs is hallelujah, 🙌 glory, giving holiness, admiring the everlasting living being. Who made heaven is holy place of abode. Make audible roaring, let the pillars of heaven tremble, and the waters surrounding the universe from the peak of heaven shallow down the depth of sea bowing🙇 before His presence Every powers and knees worship, 🛐 before his presence, glory, salvation, healing, blessing, devine favor, love, peace, life hove in His presence, sing melodiously shout excellently even with poetry, sing palm unto thy Lord who is worthy, on whose hands lies everythang. Holy, holy spirit, holy is thy Lord Almighty God. Blessing be the name of thy Lord God. Amen! 🙏
Palm Sunday inspiration.
Ave Maria Mar 2023
I took a slice of the moon and brought it to my lips ever so carefully
Head heavy with thought, soul dripping with poetry
The heart’s different phases of color painted upon every wall in my home
Ever changing, raw art of emotion
For a moment as I glance out the window, the breeze combing through my hair and the fresh smell of the night meeting my nose
I begin to imagine stars dancing up in the vast sky, twirling around and breaking apart, some fading out to let the others shine
Shooting across the sky to emphasize their passion of the night
Crickets watching and singing their songs to one another, a language only they share
Humans wishing upon the stars from their homes, secrets floating around within their minds, never to be uttered
I smile and place the slice of the moon in my mouth as if it’s a sacred fruit
I close my eyes.. and lo and behold!
It’s so powerful, I am unsure if I am merely dreaming this magic
So many stars and even angels, all dancing together as if in an orchestrated play
I dance with them, twirling around graciously in sequences that were prior unbeknownst to me
I laugh in such a beautiful and unearthly manner, my voice light and airy like the angels
A large crowd of stars group together to form the constellation of a Pegasus, twinkling and sparkling ever so bright with a certain sense of mystery
I waste no time to hop on and am carried across this seemingly never ending canvass
Until I am slowly brought down to a cloud
Softer than a feather, softer than the fur of a kitten
Similar to the first embrace of a mother, invoking a deep sensation of deja vu
I sigh with comfort and from there I soon fall, as the stars abruptly yet softly alert me with kind smiles that it is time to go
The sun is rising, a single tear slips from my eye as I awaken
Already grieving and wishing to return
But maybe tonight, I’ll find another slice of the wondrous moon
And live it all again, as a true child of the sky and the heavens
Zywa Nov 2022
Before they can speak

angels always have to wait --


for a listener.
"The Satanic Verses" (1988, Salman Rushdie)

Collection "Low gear"
Eslam Dabank Oct 2022
Nobility divine fills gaps of transcendence,
    Soars to and from the throne heavenly,
Exalts morals near the king of ascendance,
    Patrolling the good, and sons of the seventy.

A duty forgotten, replaced with dependence,
    On prayers rarely heard, and logic of a herd -
Divinity is far in absence; man in attendance,
    The book is a third, and teachings are blurred.

Andeliviuan corruption supposedly erased:
    The creation rotten of Sariel, wanders gaily.
The holy and fallen angel’s doing embraced,
    By the clay beings caressing evil like a frailly.

By God not, who from heaven him displaced.
    Yet, the legacy of the wrong stands humanly,
In Thailand, America, Palestine, and all graced -
     A grace of sinfulness celestial and worldly.  

Religion is the poor’s only ultimate truth,
     the rich’s side hustle, and the rulers’ tool;
It is the loss of power that defiles the sooth,
    The one the poor has not, but does the fool.

Robbers’ servants, bread crumbs consumers,
    Toothless **** dogs, emaciated lost tramps,
Little blind pawns, vultures’ puppets, tumours,
    And wrenches they are, the upper hand’s lambs.

If only Raguel’s judgements fall upon man,
    Raphael’s punishment beautifies this existence,
Gabriel’s wrath makes not all humans ane,
    And Michael saves us, the Sarahs, in assistance.

In the heart deepened with old repression,
   That mounts with plenitude of filtered feels,
Resides a universe yearning for expression,
    In a meat clay who feeds on calories of meals.

Man, in the genesis, in the light, in the dark,
    In prosperity, in turmoil, triumphed with vices;
vileness, abuse, wreckage is our sole mark,
    On this planet whose population is in slices.
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