Molding

Quakertown, PA

#6059 Feb 8, 2013
“And a woman spoke, saying, "Tell us of Pain."
And he said: Your pain is the breaking of the shell that encloses your understanding.
Even as the stone of the fruit must break, that its heart may stand in the sun, so must you know pain.
And could you keep your heart in wonder at the daily miracles of your life, your pain would not seem less wondrous than your joy;
And you would accept the seasons of your heart, even as you have always accepted the seasons that pass over your fields.
And you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief.
Much of your pain is self-chosen.
It is the bitter potion by which the physician within you heals your sick self.
Therefore trust the physician, and drink his remedy in silence and tranquillity:
For his hand, though heavy and hard, is guided by the tender hand of the Unseen,
And the cup he brings, though it burn your lips, has been fashioned of the clay which the
Potter has moistened with His own sacred tears.”
― Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#6060 Feb 8, 2013
Pain is enduring life and never coming to the realization that the Holy one meant it for good.
I'm not a prophet but consider myself touched by God.
I would only hope to help and hope that I'm never lewd or misunderstood.
Certain requirements come from God.
Doing good and not evil is hopefully where I've stood.
Because in the end...God is supreme and the rest is over for good.

Like I've said. I'm not a poet.

:)
Tread carefully

Quakertown, PA

#6061 Feb 8, 2013
Mister_ E wrote:
Pain is enduring life and never coming to the realization that the Holy one meant it for good.
I'm not a prophet but consider myself touched by God.
I would only hope to help and hope that I'm never lewd or misunderstood.
Certain requirements come from God.
Doing good and not evil is hopefully where I've stood.
Because in the end...God is supreme and the rest is over for good.
Like I've said. I'm not a poet.
:)
Heads up Preacher, your failing.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#6062 Feb 8, 2013
Melancholy breakfast
blue overhead blue underneath

the silent egg thinks
and the toaster’s electrical
ear waits

the stars are in
“that cloud is hid”

the elements of disbelief are
very strong in the morning

Sometimes
melancholy leaves me breathless

“*Merry Christmas*”

Level 8

Since: Nov 12

Greensburg, IN

#6063 Feb 8, 2013
How to prosper in a recession:

http://www.charismamag.com/site-archives/1485...

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#6064 Feb 8, 2013
Tread carefully wrote:
<quoted text>
Heads up Preacher, your failing.
No preacher here!!!
don't want to be
I've only meant to be just me
I see the vile and lack of humility

I'm good, I'll leave you alone.
Just tried help and bring you home.

Enjoy your life dear
I meant you no harm.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#6065 Feb 8, 2013
"Sit in the deep chair before the fire.

I will warm your feet in my hands;
I will warm your breasts and thighs with kisses.

I wish I could build a fire
In you that would never go out.

I wish I could be sure that deep in you
Was a magnet to draw you always home."
So says

Quakertown, PA

#6066 Feb 8, 2013
Mister_ E wrote:
<quoted text>
No preacher here!!!
don't want to be
I've only meant to be just me
I see the vile and lack of humility
I'm good, I'll leave you alone.
Just tried help and bring you home.
Enjoy your life dear
I meant you no harm.
the snake.

Is that part of your sermon somewhere?
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#6067 Feb 8, 2013
here we have nothing to go on
or nothing more

than light and fog
a shiver in the wind
or how the sky can empty all at once
when something like music comes
or rather
something like the gap between a sound
and silence
like the ceasing of a bell
HH and ME

Quakertown, PA

#6068 Feb 8, 2013
Funny that the two of you should be here. In the one place that is sure to devil and hide. That the two should preach about God. You're both wolves in sheeps clothing, you don't fool me. But if the charade must go on so be it.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#6069 Feb 8, 2013
Starting here, what do you want to remember?
How sunlight creeps along a shining floor?
What scent of old wood hovers, what softened
sound from outside fills the air?

Will you ever bring a better gift for the world
than the breathing respect that you carry
wherever you go right now? Are you waiting
for time to show you some better thoughts?

When you turn around, starting here, lift this
new glimpse that you found; carry into evening
all that you want from this day. This interval you spent
reading or hearing this, keep it for life –

What can anyone give you greater than now,
starting here, right in this room, when you turn around?

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#6070 Feb 8, 2013
So says wrote:
<quoted text>
the snake.
Is that part of your sermon somewhere?
Actually the devil comes masquerading as an angel of light (which only means a messenger of God)...wonder where all the churches came from??

It's no wonder that his servants masquerade as preachers of righteousness.

Apostle Paul

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#6071 Feb 8, 2013
HH and ME wrote:
Funny that the two of you should be here. In the one place that is sure to devil and hide. That the two should preach about God. You're both wolves in sheeps clothing, you don't fool me. But if the charade must go on so be it.
It's okay lady....

I would've never dreamed of breaking up a family...check your pm's...shortcake!

:)
This seems ironic

Quakertown, PA

#6072 Feb 8, 2013
Mister_ E wrote:
<quoted text>
Actually the devil comes masquerading as an angel of light (which only means a messenger of God)...wonder where all the churches came from??
It's no wonder that his servants masquerade as preachers of righteousness.
Apostle Paul
Just sex AND the bible. Is that how you like it? If nothing is true to an aethist on one thing they must agree the bible is poetry. But to stir the spirit and soul with such passion as the Christ is much for some that shift to and fro worse than dancing snakes.

While you are proclaiming peace with your lips, be careful to have it even more fully in your heart.
Francis of Assisi

You cannot claim to love God and live his life while falling prey to that which you claim to try to save and show direction through misdirection.
You are strange

Quakertown, PA

#6073 Feb 8, 2013
Mister_ E wrote:
<quoted text>
It's okay lady....
I would've never dreamed of breaking up a family...check your pm's...shortcake!
:)
the more that comes out of you the more I don't understand you.

“It's a secret”

Level 8

Since: Sep 12

Or maybe I just forgot!!

#6074 Feb 8, 2013
You are strange wrote:
<quoted text>
the more that comes out of you the more I don't understand you.
I've thought the same of you on numerous ocassions...If I could get a truth out of you...it may have been different.lol! I can sadly say, It was you that had ulterior motives, not me.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#6075 Feb 9, 2013
Last night she said to me.......

"DeVine, my flesh falls into weakness beneath the warmth of your exploration,
Your fingertips tracing prose upon these hungry lips...


Close your eyes baby...
...Rest upon the arch of my needs,
For
Seduction breathes my skin...


Feel the tremors;
Ignescent ripples
Scorching your tongue,
The essence of my body
lingering upon your mouth ...


I kneel,
A miasma of soft and delicate
A prism of flesh bound, naked,
Swirling in your
vigour...

I am
A rose crimson calligraphy
Brailled in whispers
Fingerprint dancing
"Never let me go."
Intoxicating
Wetting your erotic....


Enter my garden beloved,
Where the weave of flesh and sultry,
Swell blossoms
Igniting
To the cadence of your tongue's prance...


Stirred sensuality,
My heat magnified...
Red nails seductively
Rake rippled muscles,
Pulsing against
Carnal,
Inviting your sear
Upon my thighs..


I ache...
For the wild, ravage of your thunder,
Staining my sex,
Your fevered tongue tangled in moistened petals,
Claiming my defenses,
As I am unravelled beneath your form,
Bending in the arch of your control...


You melt me..
In the brush
Of passionate lips trail scorching
Hardened nipples, blushed;
Blossomed,
Licked, cherry red
Beneath firey breath,
Surging the veins of the sultry...


Rock with me
As I... unravel you in
This rage of my passion,
My body, and yours...
Vehement currents, aching for release...


Feathered sensations,
Urge this yearn
Of quivers,
Quaking now, as the wet of want unleashes
My pearled release;
Screams... that pierce the aftermath
Spent in currents of euphoria...


I lay before you
Naked and exposed,
The Valentine
That wakens your lust........"

Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#6076 Feb 9, 2013
The f ucking cops are f ucking keen
To f ucking keep it f ucking clean
The f ucking chief's a f ucking swine
Who f ucking draws a f ucking line
At f ucking fun and f ucking games
The f ucking kids he f ucking blames
Are nowehere to be f ucking found
Anywhere in Chickentown

The f ucking scene is f ucking sad
The f ucking news is f ucking bad
The f ucking weed is f ucking turf
The f ucking speed is fucking surf
The f ucking folks are f ucking daft
Don't make me f ucking laugh
It f ucking hurts to look around
Everywhere in Chickentown

The f ucking train is f ucking late
You f ucking wait you fucking wait
You're f ucking lost and f ucking found
Stuck in f ucking Chickentown

The f ucking view is f ucking vile
For f ucking miles and f ucking miles
The f ucking babies f ucking cry
The f ucking flowers f ucking die
The f ucking food is f ucking muck
The f ucking drains are f ucking fucked
The colour scheme is f ucking brown
Everywhere in Chickentown

The f ucking pubs are f ucking dull
The f ucking clubs are fucking full
Of f ucking girls and f ucking guys
With f ucking murder in their eyes
A f ucking bloke is f ucking stabbed
Waiting for a f ucking cab
You f ucking stay at f ucking home
The f ucking neighbors f ucking moan
Keep The f ucking racket down
This is f ucking Chickentown

The f ucking train is f ucking late
You f ucking wait you f ucking wait
You're f ucking lost and f ucking found
Stuck in f ucking Chickentown

The f ucking pies are f ucking old
The f ucking chips are f ucking cold
The f ucking beer is f ucking flat
The f ucking flats have f ucking rats
The f ucking clocks are fucking wrong
The f ucking days are f ucking long
It f ucking gets you f ucking down
Evidently in Chickentown.
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#6077 Feb 9, 2013
The night of the Valentine
brings nothing interesting,

Sunbeam's warmly tickling
your eyelids and riotous hair.

Want something kinky?- Okay...

"The life, wife or mistress,
sleepily lifting her soft left thigh,
is mounting herself in upright positing,
just near your lips …Filling them
with her morning bitterness ...

A bit of a golden shower, then little ride,
where she will loudly orgasm, making
you feel important. Then jerking off … "

I put on my leather jacket
and go to a sex shop, marketing my
porn stories to slavish masochistic
bad girls, who like to touch me.

Saying in conspiracy " Oh, Adrian, babe
I am straight from the clinic, fixing broken rib
and three dislocated fingers. But it was so sweet … "

And I smile, understandingly …

Oh, you, fat ugly life that we call whore.
I wanted to write poetry to touch souls,
my verse, gentle, flawing as a breeze.

Instead I am lost in porn, making quilt

out of beating and bleeding hearts of
people, I helped to climax,
and see no exit …

Oh, Bella mia!

When they bring me home,
still warm, my free verse
bland, fatherless, godless...

Please Patricia,
c um on
kiss me
for the first time ...
Anonymous

Brisbane, Australia

#6078 Feb 9, 2013
The day is dying.

Heading skywards, la Luna is bowing to us with a majestic
elegance of a young whore facing her first star clientele.

Bathing in moonlight,

my angel, dancing in front of the lone whimsical audience
of myself, is blushing under the lightly pale layers, her bare
breasts unveiling scars of the old times,

hiding somebody's else heart.

The poetry is dying,

shamelessly selling itself to a cohort of horny housewives,

their men and teenagers. Rare fresh lines dying quick death,

unnoticed, like a healthy sperm in a salty ocean of birth-less.

Divorces, boring love, nature, flowers, dirt, life lessons,

friendship, fifty shades, dating, contests, messaging, online sex..

A professional escort
serving the ordinary - rich, happy and gold members.

A girl in the not-so-innocent age of sixteen,

just starting to develop her period and pubic hair, is stripped naked,
by a bunch of perverted strong men, dressed up and masked, discussing
the coming pleasures.

Biting their carnal lips.. They will start in a second,
invading her childish flesh, with lubricated hands and instruments.

Knocking her out, tearing the soul apart, coming inside. Together…

With scalpel. Cutting her heart out.

Then replacing. By somebody's else.

Making her walk in shadows...



You say, what kind of poetry is this?

Next time you die, don't forget please,
to send me a map of that labyrinth.

Straight like scar separating your pale breasts...
There is something I wanted to tell…

Baby, you are the strangest person on Earth...

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