Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
How cruel a thing time is
How it drags us onwards relentlessly, against our will
No respect for our feelings, for what we might want
After all, assuming it's a man made invention
Why can't we decide when to go and when to stop?
When to run and when to walk?
Sometimes I just need a minute to catch my breath
Other times I watch the clock dilly-dally for hours
As it playfully skips from one second to the next
Blissfully unaware of the urgency that surrounds it
Then there are times when I don't just want it to stop
I want it to never have existed
Like when you look in the mirror then ask me if you look okay...
Like when I glance at you while you're reading...
Like when I see you doing anything really
In any given theoretical situation
That is when I want time to just not be
That is when I want time to just not be there
I love you like I love butterflies
But butterflies flying everywhere
A travelling heart
Won’t settle to soon
A travelling heart expects nothing
It loves as it goes
But keeps a safe distance
Fluidity and movement
Allow safety from settlement
From truth and definiteness

When will the heart be ready?
To remain
To accept another
And be still
When enough has been seen
And enough has been done
Who will settle this travelling heart?
On a wall of stars hangs a pearly eye.
Its light carries slumber, its presence brings absence.
Why should this traveler cross the skies in solitude?
Her brother hangs just across the heavens, yet their paths rarely cross.
When their lives do meet, the world turns upward in chaos.
The life of a heavenly body is eternally lonely.
Rest assured, my dearest love,
Only you have the key to my heart.
No one can take that from you.
An everlasting devotion to you I hold,
Never fading away.
The Catholic church
endorsed the world today
for a dollar ninety nine.

-Announcement-

Every iPhone owner!
sinner, saint or stoner!
Come now have your sins forgiven!
forgiven if you spill your guts,
if you just confess,
then watch technology do the rest.
Absolution for you and me!
Send your sins across the sea!
your sins will fly up through the sky
encrypted on waves to reach the almighty,
the Vatican! the Pope!

A man of God appointed by the church
yet is he any different than you and me?
We know he sins the same as us,
the book of Romans says its so,*
and do you really think his tall hat
and flowing dress can make him
any more chosen than us?
Can he really hold back lust?
Will he not eventually turn to dust
Just like the rest of us?
is he really any different than us?

How ironic he receives a royalty from
a symbol of the fallen world,
The Apple
computer company,
payment for our absolution…

...So the world fell
by the fruit of a tree
and now expects to be
redeemed the same way.

The truth is not in a man.
the truth is not in the Apple.
The truth is not in the white smoke rising
from the stacks on Sistine Chapel.
The truth cannot be dried up.
The truth cannot be cured.
the truth is not the Pope's to smoke,
To believe it is absurd.


If you want to know the truth,
the truth is in the blood.
The blood covers everything.

Including what is written here.
http://voices.washingtonpost.com/fasterforward/2011/02/confession_app.html

*Romans 3:23 Galatians 3:25-26
Galatians 4:17 Hebrews 4:14-16
I used to write like I was smarter than people.
This was the ego of the sample of knowledge.

Now I write easy, because before, writing smart was the challenge, but now...




communicating  like a human seems to be the challenge.

What am I?
N Bartling
Oh, Cinderella
you terrible influence

you talk to mice
and sing to birds

you lose your shoes
and run in halls

you ride on pumpkins
and steal from sisters

last, not least
you married a stranger
I want a
head-dress of feathers
like hers

Time passes in the river
I'm restless
I quiver
My fingers are long
and longer
touch the foreign soil
grow under

Maybe you forgot
but I never did

I wear a head-dress
of feathers
and battle the wind
with eye-lashes
I dance on smooth stones
I carry large weight

Something is burning
pounding
in the rhythm of the heart
this land is too wide
for just sitting still

I wear a headress of feathers
I walk in the dark
I go on one foot
I march like a crowd
I read from a map
I read from the stars
our footprints are crossing
a numerous times
I wear a head-dress
of feathers
just like she does

Maybe you forgot
but we never did
this land is too wide
for just sitting still
Held up by its wind, a flag will ******.
The motion, so liquid,
so solemn and yet lucid.
Floating in its own breath,
meandering,
unleashed along nature’s footpath.
The wind ponders with instinctive movement through and around this clothed vessel.
There are no regards nor any purpose. 
The movement, the romance within this dance with nature is fearless.
The wind has its sweetest of palette – a flag.
copywrite: elaine hart
1.mar. 2010
You should populate the world
with one seed at a time,

For the fruits for your labor
Should be your crime.

Fear not-
for nothing can harm you
Fear those-
who are out there to out do you.

It is your time,
and it starts now.
Make a mental note
and write it down.

Look but don't be seen,
hidden in every man is a little boys dream-

Break down
and play in the rain.
To populate the world
you just need space.
Next page