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Wednesday, December 25, 2013

To Give

The ultimate gift
is what He gave, so today
what will I give Him?

via

"What Shall We Give" MoTab Choir link here.

Monday, December 16, 2013

we are called Legions

Legions
By: the iHope Poet

When legions of shadow grow wild and free
in the darkness, which we are unwilling to see --
When the blindness of hearts and uninhibited greed have gathered
so fierce and so bold must we be,

To bring back the light that is shuttered from view
as the mind reawakens through torment and gloom.
For the blackness of evil will only collapse and decay
if we gather to fight off the cumbersome doom --

With all of our efforts, of light repossessed,
with fear left behind us, and courage refreshed.
No turning back now, now that they are suppressed and in need.
Are we not apart of this world in distress?

For though there are many, of shadow and hate,
we know what we're fighting and will not forsake
This cause which we stand for and take with our lives,
yes, we fight in legions,
With legions of light.
via

Sunday, November 24, 2013

What Am I Thankful For?

Thanks Giving
By: the iHope Poet
via

So many hearts to be shared,
Prayers to be uttered,
Thoughts to be expressed --
It's a wonderful life, even when it's hard
and that, I suppose,
is a good way to sum up this gratitude
which so fully swells within me now,
threatening to burst.


Thursday, November 14, 2013

of the King of Kings

Far Above
By: the iHope Poet

There is a blessing, perhaps in the form of a curse . . .

It is a hope of all hopes
to look into the face of doubt
and see the impossible reflect in its eyes

A faith of all faiths
to shine through the night, even
when raging winds threaten to snuff out the flame

It is trust, above all other trust, 
to relinquish one's fingers 
into the unseen hand of whatever fate may be named

And a promise of all promises,
which requires each of these efforts, 
and in turn grants the bravest, smartest and strongest of hearts

 . . . to that soul who stuck to his guns

via

Friday, November 8, 2013

Hopes and Expectations

Maybe I Will
By: the iHope Poet

Cry me a river and float me upstream.
Blow through the oceans, and storm up the seas. 
Fight me a battle that seems to be lost --
Then win back the tempest and soak up the shock. 
Someday the world will give up on you. 

Someday I might just give up on you. 

Carry the thunder and rain down the hate. 
Burden the rivers with overflown lakes. 
Flowers at night never seem to rebloom --
Hopefully morning will shine on ours soon.
Someday the hope will give up on you.

Someday I might just give up on you. 

When the time comes, when we finally fall,
Maybe this love will be gone afterall. 
Couldn't we say we gave up on it first?
Shouldn't we leave when it's bound to get worse? yet,
Somehow I can't picture leaving this . . . 

But Someday I might just give up on you. 


via

Sunday, November 3, 2013

Delirium

Once More
By: the iHope Poet

Hold your tongue,
keep your breath,
don't speak words that you'll regret.
Break the deal, save the lie,
I have love, I won't deny.

Still I say,
don't look back when
you walk away.

via
Cuz I'm gone
when you're here,
I've disappeared --

it's delirium, once more.

Rising skies,
sinking sun,
darkness shrouds the younger one.
Holding back, far away,
I won't try to make you stay.

Still I say,
don't look back when
you walk away.

I am gone
when you're here,
I've disappeared,

I guess
it's delirium, once more.

Friday, November 1, 2013

this is so much harder

than I thought it would be
by: the iHope Poet

you've only been gone for a short little while
and I regret missing the moment you left.
still, those words you sent me
left me breathless,
and even now, I realize them over and over again in my heart,
whenever I find myself missing you.

and the pain, the longing . . . I'm working on a mask --
a facade to cover the ache of not seeing you.
I find myself looking frantically, everywhere I go,
for anything that reminds me of you,
keeps me feeling like you're right there, close and waiting.
so that I can fall back into that bubble of air,
where I felt like I could be frozen with you, in time,
and delay the inevitable . . .

all of this hoping, this wishing, this broken, shattered, dissolved fantasy;
while somewhere, far away, you will likely never think of me once,
at least, not
until you come home. . .

let's pretend that day will come soon.

via

Wednesday, October 30, 2013

The Itsy Bitsy Spider . . .when the rains are a comin'

walls
by: the iHope Poet

little baby spider
I see climbin up the wall,
the rains will be a comin'
and she doesn't want to fall.

the higher she can climb it
takes her closer to escape,
to the safety of the edges
where the floods can't wash away.

if she stops to catch a breather,
or decides to hang on tight,
when the thunder clouds start striking,
she'll be bound to slip and die.

so the little baby spider
tries her hardest not to fall,
barely clinging as she rises,
up this fateful, narrow wall. . .


via
call me sissy, coward, afraid of the risks . . . it just seems like, the sooner you start to take it slow, the sooner it all falls apart.

or as soon as you slow down, life runs into you from behind.

Sunday, October 27, 2013

It's Autumn Time . . .

Thirsty
By: the iHope Poet
Orange, orange, everywhere. Orange in the blaze of the October sun on my skin, in the striking shade of the fat pumpkin at my side. Orange in the rich folds of the flower petals and the dry crunch of the leaves on the ground.

All around, I see the fire.

The flames of late fall are as brilliant as ever, defined by their distinct colors (of golds, burgundies, indigos and emeralds) and crisp breath; as their cold heat burns away the old news of spring and summer.

While the earth succumbs to the wild dance of Autumn, the cerulean sky watches curiously from above; and the wind tickles it’s unperturbed surface, arousing a keen sense of longing to take part in this marvelous shift of nature. And yet, far aloft, the limits of the ragged blue atmosphere remain, barren of all clouds, which were mercilessly scorched away in the slicing heat of the harvest day.

And so, the exhausted heavens thirst. Not as the flowers do for subtle showers from white, billowy tendrils of cloud. But for the rumbling blacks and grays and ashen haze to come rolling in, and relieve that tension of unfulfilled change in the air; to shock those final traces of life out of the mountains, the trees, and the thin, coarse dirt.

Yes, the sky dreams; it yearns to settle the chills and the sleep, and regrets of lost time, deep into the soil where the roots of all things lie raw and wilted; simply by making it rain.

Monday, October 21, 2013

Who's Inside?

Me
By: the iHope Poet
via

Scared of the chances,
Waiting for ashes
to prove that I burned out
the devil I see.
Woke up next morning,
felt something stirring. I
found it alive, and
I found it me.


Sunday, October 20, 2013

Lazy Now...

Regret it Bald
By: the iHope Poet

"I'll trade a feather
for a worm,
A simple plan,"
Assumed the bird.
A plan to let him sit and rest . . 
But one day, bald, 
Live to regret.

via

I'll Miss You

tomorrow
By: the iHope Poet

tomorrow you'll be gone
please, remember why you're leaving,
don't forget that you are serving,
don't forget you're purpose, there.
via

tomorrow I won't see you
and I'll wish that you were here,
but I'll keep in mind you're mission,
that you're out to persevere.

tomorrow I will miss you
and my heart will break in two,
so be careful, and successful --
you can change, but please, stay true!

tomorrow you won't be here
but I know you have to go.
I just hope you won't forget me
when the world becomes your home.


Wednesday, October 16, 2013

when Hoping can't help

via
    Time to Turn Away
    By: the iHope Poet
    You're dreaming, but you know
    that your eyes should still be open.
    Sleeping, but it's true
    that you need to stay awake.
    You're walking, looking back,
    but you have to keep on running,
    for Hoping just won't do
    when it's time to turn away.


Wednesday, October 9, 2013

Accepting

Natural Man
By: the iHope Poet

It's Hard to love a demon,
via
but Can You love yourself?
the natural light shines brighter
sitting on the darkest shelf.

"is dust a guilt or virtue?
is shame an act of sin?
perhaps the gloom will fade away
by letting shadows in. . ."

A Demon has no glory,
it Is Not Heaven Bound.
yet even the most wayward heart can,
with pure light, be found.

Thursday, October 3, 2013

touché


living is learning and
loving is giving and
fixing is trying to live

via