WORD IS WIND
It is the same wind that has the ability to knock over houses
It is the same wind
That accompanies the hurricane
That accompanies the tornado
That has destroyed so many peoples life
With just one huff
So how it that you can say word is is wind
And expect me to be okay
When the same wind
Has knocked me around and beat me down
The same words have spun me around
Sticks and stones have not done me as badly
As the words assumed not to be able to hurt.
Breaking bones don't sound too bad
But bullying makes me shiver.
Don't Bully Kids….
My window looks at fairy tree.
Its branches bend and twist.
Its leaves are whispering with glee,
Its hallow makes a whistle.
A little river under the tree
Is running through the fog.
A marvelous song amazes me
Performed by a tiny frog.
You should take SSRI
SSRI - selective serotonin re-uptake inhibitors.
It is on a beach then in a car, fast and invisible.
People who believe in it say it may be invincible.
Incredible are the exploits upon its journeys.
School yard stories made up on the spot, as it listens.
Nodding when they're true, shaking when but puff.
Soo popular maybe because anyone could relate.
To the crazy unbelieveable, and had eaten muffins.
Eventually you could even buy them at bakerys, empty boxes.
Merchandising included comics, they were the invisible man.
And superman and wolverine, anything imagine can do.
Levetation and teleportation were favourite hobbies.
Nobody knew who first discovered it or made it up.
So a percentage of profits were put into a slushy fund.
So any child anywhere could be refreshed for free.
POEM FROM #TheWoodpeckersDaydream
The Psalm of Tatenda Yah
To the music producer DJ QaC. The psalm he sang at the wedding feast of the Lamb and His bride. -22 Jan 2016
Yisrael of Yah went into slavery
for the Power of His mighty to be seen,
The ammishaddai by the mighty hand of Elohim were delivered from pharaoh.
Yhwh, was with them in the desert,
Forty years being who He is to His people
Teaching them His Torah.
We read in the Tanakh of His everlasting Love for His people,
And the power of His salvation,
His righteous judgement and
His enduring mercies.
Yisrael was enslaved and delivered
For the Tanakh to be written.
For You knew the plans You had
For our Fathers,
Plans of hope and a future,
Our fathers besought You
With all their heart and they found You.
When their groaning came before You
You left Your throne for their cause.
They were like they that dream,
When Your highness
Turned away their Captivity.
Our sovereign ruler loves justice,
And hates robbery with iniquity;
You gave us our recompense in truth,
Then made the everlasting covenant with us.
How excellent is Your name,
The mighty one of Yacob,
May all the glory, power, dominion and honour be unto You our Adonai
For ever and ever.
Yahshua came for the lost sheep of Yisrael
To find a bride for Himself
He wrote her the New Covenant
Who believed our report?
When we proclaimed in all the lands,
‘To us a child is born
To us a son is given
And the government will be upon His shoulder, Him who gives beauty for ashes
Yahshua Ha Mashiach, Pele- Joez-El-Gibbor-Abi-Ad-Sar-Shalom.
He paid for His bride by His blood
Cleared her debt and overcame death.
The bride sings,
‘O death, where is thy sting?
O grave, where is thy victory?'
Forever will He be with us
Behold! His tabernacle is with us,
And He dwells with His bride,
We are His,
And He belongs to His bride, our God.
I wrote DOVA for you Huchi
It's a family tradition.
You're trying your best to hide your bruises.
He slaps you around and says that you're useless.
You're starting to believe that maybe it's true.
He doesn't appreciate anything you do.
Make-up hides bruises but not the pain.
There's little sunshine and lots of rain.
It's like you're on a roller coaster ride.
With Doctor Jekyll and Mister Hyde.
Love should never include pain.
But for you he has so much disdain.
You say it's hard for you to get out.
Could it be yourself who you really doubt?
Being beat by him is not amusing.
He tells you he loves you but it's you he's confusing.
Everyone wonders why you keep on staying.
You'll get out safely we're hoping and praying.
He keeps getting worse and acting real strange.
When will you realize he's not going to change?
The verbal abuse is just as bad.
It tears you down and keeps you sad.
It makes you feel like less than a lady.
And sometimes it even makes you feel crazy.
What he did to you was assault and battery.
You keep on saying, “Oh he's just mad at me.”
You keep on believing that it's your fault.
And you keep on taking his assault.
The police come so often your home is their substation.
You never press charges so it causes frustration.
Sad thing is he too was a victim.
But I refuse to make excuses for him.
Just take a look at your face in the mirror.
Old bruises new bruises but it never gets clearer.
Sometimes he treats you like you're a Queen.
But what about the times he's just plain mean?
You long for the times he treats you right.
You're hoping and praying for another good night.
Please get out of this for heaven's sake.
If you don't you're making a big mistake.
When all is said and done it's your decision.
Getting out should be your primary mission.
You thought he was the best man in the world.
But you made a mistake so move on girl!
By Gary G. Tavares
I feel but I want to read the notation
of the wonderful music of love.
I dance Polka dance
with the rhythm of love
dancing in my never old heart
but I want to read the rosy steps
of the other heart;
the steps that will never stop
even if my feet get slow and then still!
A death is never a death
when love hugs a life.
Survived by someone special
closest to the soul
maybe alien to the world
that knows only itself
that always wants to know only itself
is the best living after death.
Am I being selfish then?
Craving for an unsound life after death?
At the cost of her living death?
No dream told me that she would come...
Destiny did not foretell.
It is she who told me that she has come...
Told me that she would stay
even when I get grey.
Her eyes have written the poetry of oath
and I am taken to this surrealist poetry!
My growing feet have resigned to her growing hands
and sing and dance together our hearts.
A piece of art
with many pieces together
unified by an art
of some colors together
hangs in the soul of a calendar
hung with a month of a gone-by year.
Undying music amid contorted visages
falls from the ether to sail through voyages
and buffoonery stands out among knit images
to smug at the crowded tragedies in many niches!
(The poem is composed on the image drawn by Amrita Laha)