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 May 2016 Seeker
SøułSurvivør
Worry* is a scurvy rat
It is a man's main bane
It chews on your self esteem
It nibbles at your brain
It will take your precious time
Your energies will claim
It will hobble your very life
It will make you lame
You may try to capture it
But that is all in vain

Doubt is like a cancer
It eats at your bones
It takes breath from your very lungs
It turns your mind to stone
It makes you feel incomplete
It makes you weep and moan
Under it's all-nagging pain
You will retch and groan
It is resistant to all cures
And you cannot atone

Fear is like a little death
It turns the heart to straw
It strikes like a rattlesnake
With poison in its maw
It's like a fascist dictator
Who makes the harshest laws
It can take your greatest strength
Make it pernicious flaw
Like a sadistic doctor
With a large chainsaw!

How can a person battle
Worry, Doubt and Fear?
How can our lives get better?
How can we have cheer?
Jack Daniels has no answer
It's not Budweiser beer...

It may be elusive
At first just like a wraith
But once you have a hold on it

The answer is our *FAITH.*



SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/27/2016
Found the beginnings of this poem earlier while I was looking through some boxes (I'm cleaning an old storage area).
It showed promise so I started working on it today.

This cleaning project has been taking up a lot of my time. Hopefully I'll be able to get back on the site over the long weekend.

May you be blessed this Memorial Day!

-
 May 2016 Seeker
SøułSurvivør
Red Poppies grow
Upon lapels
Telling of
War's untold hell

Of green hills
Pristine and groomed
Marching crosses
On the tombs

Marching crosses
Star of David
Where Stars and Stripes
Fluttered and wav'ed

Of buddies lost
Buried in cairns
Of brothers. Sisters.
Thus disarmed.

Of need for morphine
To end the pain
Of bandages
To staunch red stains

To honor souls
Under white snow
Upon lapels
Red Poppies grow.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/29/2016
Let us not forget the meaning of the red poppy. My father won't.
 May 2016 Seeker
SøułSurvivør
We are all just sliding down
The hill on icey snow
We have really no idea
Which way life will go

We're sitting on a hubcap
A toboggan we can't steer
There's no way to then avoid
The obstacles we fear

We may have a super job
Have a comfortable home
But we could lose that good career
Then we're all alone

No house. No wife. No children.
No way to make a living
Looking at a homeless state
In search of someone giving

We could be in perfect health
Yet slip and have a fall
Be in the wrong vehicle
We could lose it all

We're on a slippery *****
That toboggan goes so fast
We may have many blessings
But how long will they last?

When we have the good in life
Our prayers we may not raise
When there's strife and things go wrong
We forget to give Him praise!

Remember Jesus suffering
Remember His great gift
He gave us Redemption
Our burdens He can lift!

Prayer is the answer
When things are going well
And praising His goodness
Even through life's hell

He has all the Power
He has all the Might
He can keep you safe!
He can make things right!

You are on that hubcap
Slipping like the breeze
But you can jump the rocks
And avoid those big ol' trees!

So give Him all of what He's due
He has the strength of Will
You are then connected

To the maker of the hill.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/29/2016
My brother lost his wallet with all my parent's credit cards in it. He usually does our shopping. This is really a problem not only because of the obvious reasons but because we are almost out of food and he does our shopping. So we are in a real situation for 2 days. But I'm not worried at all. God will provide. And I will ever praise Him! AMEN!

***GOOD NEWS!!! MY CHURCH FOUND OUT ABOUT OUR WOES AND IS HELPING US OUT FINANCIALLY TIL MONTH'S END!!! JESUS IS AWESOME!!!***

--
 May 2016 Seeker
SøułSurvivør
Poets, like doctors, know the anatomy of suffering... tearing the paper with rusty carving knives...

We see scarlet scratches and eggplant colored bruises on every square inch of foolscap... we open scars with words... stainless steel scalpels which we never sanitize...

We perform open heart surgery with blunt instruments... We cauterize the wounds with coals of Fire...

We are civil war sawbones, removing the gangrenous leg to save the body... Carrying out our task with whiskey bottle anaesthesia.

So have a care... The Doctor Is In.


SoulSurvivor
(C) 5/30/2016
Inspired by Dawn and her poem
"Ink-Stained Glass"
 May 2016 Seeker
spysgrandson
fever
 May 2016 Seeker
spysgrandson
words he could not understand
flew over his head--sparrows at first,
vultures as the hours passed; he

could see the creatures
spilling from mouths, eager fledglings
escaping the nest, white

coat wizards
birthed them, casting some spell
on the mother, on all

mothers who heard the flapping
of these wings, who saw the buzzards gather
until they swooped down upon

him, helpless, as their talons
snatched him from her arms, their wings
in frenzied dance, fluttering  

to a symphony of the ******
carrying carrion and soul to a bedeviled den
she could not see
 May 2016 Seeker
spysgrandson
in Morpheus' gray grip
I find no porcelain bowl  
and have to deposit my golden stream
into a bucket I often miss 

strangers happen upon me
while I'm in the act; their faces reveal mild rebuke
not for my ****** public display,
but for my poor aim
 May 2016 Seeker
Happynessa
Within the centre of your being
May you find peace
Every act of unconditional love
Echoes in eternity
Spread your wings and dance
Dreams into reality
If your situation  won't change
Then change yourself
The optimist is often as wrong
As the pessimist
But he is far far happier
Choose happiness
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