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WoundsThe time when verses flow most freely from my mind
Is not when life has altogether been too kind:
The echoed strains of joy, what words could catch and capture
The speechlessness of laughter, hearts abrim with rapture?
It's hopelessness and sorrow baring wounds through words,
A crust of scabbed emotions daring to be heard;
It itches mightily, and though you want to rip
Apart the hurt and all reminders in one strip,
It stings to know there is no bottom but an ooze,
This awful spring of inspiration, pain-infused.
But give it time to heal, protect it from all harm,
And off it comes. The skin beneath is new and warm
And paler than before, but solid in its form.
Memory #4: The CostIn my sophomore year, we would have prayer meetings every Wednesday afternoon. I would say that weekly meetups and prayer meetings were the times I learned the most that year. On one level, I learned about prayer itself, and how many different ways you could pray. You could pray through the Word (praying through a psalm was a particular favorite of mine), you could pray in one voice with each other, you could simply praise and adore God, or thank him. Along with my meetups I learned more about confessing in prayer as well. On another level, I learned a lot about the many different things we could intercede for. We would pray for our campus, our ministry, our missionaries, and most importantly, our people and the various facets of their lives. It felt that every prayer meeting was learning a new thing about prayer.
But even more than these substantial lessons, I learned a lot from the older people who led the prayers. Seeing their example as prayerful men and women left a deep impressio
UnspokenUntil the day appointed when I stand
And tell you all the hope you fill in me,
I'll tell you naught of what I understand
Within my heart, unseized by urgency.
For in the promise now I see no need
To haste the swelling feeling deep inside
Nor give up hope: to pray and not to plead,
To slowly bridge this shortening divide.
But we are closer than I could have thought,
And in the light of such proximity
The sentiment our interactions wrought
Are all too easy for your eyes to see.
For now, let this reward you for your wait:
The tenderness my actions indicate.
LifthrasirWhose princely air proudly
Passed the sea in freefalls,
Who sought peace, sword flaming,
Striking words like forgefalls,
Pride of Berk, battleworn,
Breathing life where strife falls,
Prized by Líf in prayer:
Their pressed lips, blessed footfalls.
Away at HomeLord, be my home and all my stay
When even home feels far away:
Let my own kin say what they may,
Lord, be my home and all my stay.
For heaven holds me in its sway,
My single passion day to day.
Lord, be my home and all my stay
When even home feels far away.
Sandwich IslandPotato salad and a turkey bacon:
All it took to show me how the days
Have heaped on like a sandwich in the making.
Twenty years now stacked on bright red trays
With food and paper plates and Styrofoam,
Symbols of good taste and friendly ways.
I wonder what had roused her then to roam
And settle in this aging college town.
She heard me speak the language of her home
And something must have moved her heart deep down
To save my weekly order in her mind.
Some turn to comfort food upon a frown,
And yet more consolation there I find
A fullness of a heartfelt， hometown kind.
Memory #2: NinjaIn the final days of APUSH my junior year, our teacher had us write letters to ourselves five years from now. Last week it came into the mail, and understandably, I was curious to see what my 16 year old self wanted to tell my 21 year old self. As it turns out, he didn’t really have much to say (so my memory of not knowing what to write was confirmed), only to talk to a bunch of my friends and to refer to a game we used to play: Ninja.
I don’t remember who brought Ninja into West Ranch High School, but I remember that when it did hit it was the bomb. The basic premise of the game was that everyone would stand in a circle, and you would count to three. On three, everyone would strike a pose, and taking turns, you would try to hit other people’s hands to get them out. The goal was to be the last person standing.
I’ve played it a couple times in college, and hearing of other people’s different versions, I can safely conclude that we took Ninja way too serious
Memory #1: The Perfect BiteI don't remember what age I was exactly when I had In-N-Out for the first time. It was when I was five or six, around preschool or kindergarten. But I can vividly remember what it tasted like, where we were, and how I earned it.
At the time, I had two major haunts: the Duarte public library and the LA Zoo. Now in those days, the public libraries had a deal of some sort where if you read five books, you could get a certificate for a free hamburger. Being the kind of kid who would check out and read 20 or so books a week, I made short work of it. I remember my mom taking me and my little sister to the In-N-Out in Arcadia, the one that has no indoor seating, and I remember she took us to a park. It was quite a nice summer day, and we sat on a picnic bench in the shade. My mom let me carry the bag, and I remember that I was ravenous by the time we got there. It smelt so good, and when I bit into it, I don't think I have ever had a better bite of a burger than that first bite. Soft bun, sau
A Frozen Ballad, Part VThe First Time in Forever
Three years had passed, and all the world
Was sailing on its way
To Arendelle, for Elsa was
To bear the crown that day.
How towering the stately masts
And billowing the sails!
How joyful were the people's songs
Sung over hills and dales!
The castle gates, which once were closed
For thirteen weary years,
Now opened, and the eager throng
Streamed in with loudest cheers.
And yet, against the tide, a maiden
Hastened out the door,
The first time in forever she
Could go out and explore.
Sweet Anna, with her rosy cheeks
And eyes aglow with glee,
Was singing, dancing in the town,
For she had been set free.
Now as she sauntered up and down
The dockyards and the streets,
She crashed into a foreign horse,
And swept right off her feet.
The rider was Prince Hans, who hailed
From Southern Isles' shores,
A handsome face that hid a heart
With malice in its core.
But Anna, captivated by
His warmth and princely charm,
Returned to Elsa with no clue
Of near-impending harm.
Would you love me if...Would you love me if I told you 'bout my past and wayward ways?
Will you love me when the past returns and haunts my nights and days?
Would you love me if I then confessed about the way I snore?
Will you love me still or will you then show this boy to the door?
Would you love me if you learned about the girl whose heart I crushed?
Will you love me even though I'm shy and sometimes even blush?
Would you love me once its been made known I quit school in ninth grade?
Will you love me knowing that my life 'til now's been a charade?
Would you love me even though my family name is barely known?
Will you love me when I'm old and gray or will I be alone?
Would you love me if you knew I once lived 'neath the Brooklyn bridge?
Will you love me if it seems I live my life close to the edge?
Would you love me if I got down on my knees and held your hand?
Will you love me if I give to you this shiny wedding band?
Would you love me if I worshiped you and gave you gifts of gold?
Will you love me and ma
DesiresI want to be
The poem you love
Your gorgeous eyes.
I want to be
A star in the sky
To give you light
In the darkest time.
I want to be
Who your fantasy
I want to be
The heart that feels
Your endless hug.
The sweet wind
I want to be
To touch your cheeks
I want to be
When our souls
Will sleep together.
Will be your pillow
During the whole night
I will kiss you.
The secretThe moon
A veil of clouds
A path under its light
A warm embrace
Hidden from all sight
Stars all around
Oh so very bright
And meet again
Every single night
Eres muy especial para mi: cap 9B: "la besa de nuevo" amo tus labios amor
B: jaja me haces reir!, eres muy tierna e inocente
C: no lo soy!
B: claro que si! en este momento estas haciendo puchero como niña pequeña!
C: ash! "se enoja un poquito"
B: jaja ven aquí! "la toma y la jala hacia el besándola nuevamente"
Desafortunadamente en ese momento entraron Mordecai y Rigby a la oficina, descubriéndolos así besándose, a lo que ambos respondieron con una cara de sorpresa y boquiabiertos.
M: l-los dejamos solos?
R: WTF!!!??? no sabia que eran pareja
M: ahora entiendo por que esos apodos tan cursis
B: wow, wow wow! esperen un momento! no estamos saliendo ni somos pareja
R: a no? no mientas Benson! te descubrimos con las manos en la masa!
M: o en Camila?
R: quedo mejor
Mordecai y Rigby se ríen.
B: BASTA! SALGAN DE MI OFICINA AHORA MISMO!!!
R: ah claro....quiere privacidad ¬w¬
M: jaja entonces los dejaremos solos ¬w¬
Mordecai y Rigby se retiran de
There might be usYou might take take a walk with him by the river.
Yeah, he might just take you for a walk.
And you might admire blooming cherry slivers.
And he might take your hand and even sweet talk.
You might go to movies with him, once in a while.
Yeah, he might just take you to movies sometimes.
He might make you laugh, you might make him smile.
And he might even kiss you when the hall dimes.
You might sit and talk to him for hours.
Yeah, he might just listen to you talk.
You might bake him cookies, he might buy you flowers.
You might even feel safe when he kisses you goodnight.
You might share a week with him; or a month, or two.
Yeah, he might just let you stay around.
You might even think you can make him love you.
He might even let you believe you are right.
To give him your whole world, you might even dare.
Yeah, he might just say 'I love you' a couple of times.
For some time, he might even pretend he cares.
For some time, you might even believe he does.
Better ForgottenYou keep asking me questions
But you're holding my breath
All I want is a rescue
But I'm drowning in death
All the flowers are wilting
As the dark grows around
Thought the ice might be melting
But it just fell to the ground
Had your own misconceptions
Of what this might be like
With so many directions
How could we both find the light
All the sweetness has rotten
And it's bitter and tough
It's all better forgotten
Than forced on for this love
thief of wordsyour piercing silence stabs my head
the eyes that I loved are closed forever
now our moments are flowing in the paper
but my literature needs more words
so I write yours like if they were mine
to fill the blank parts of my soul
that is the destiny of the broken poets
A letter to KaosuEveryday and every night I think of you...
Everyday I always ask myself will I see you again...?
But at least I know he loves me...
No matter what I'm doing or where I am I always this of you...
You, my love...
Even if I'm not alone I still think of you...
Even when I'm in a birthday party I always tell myself "if only you were here..."
I never felt for someone this way before~
Sonnet LXIOp. 26, no. 1
It is my love that keeps mine eye awake,
Alert to all the shadows in the dark,
The principalities that cruelly take
And plunder everything with beauty's mark.
To play the watchman ever for thy sake,
My love, who fills my soul and all my being,
I watch and gladly wait, though still opaque
The future is, resistant to my seeing.
But when the dawn at last will show its face,
Would all our hopes then happily conclude
That all we feared could not have stood in place
Before the force that leaves all things subdued.
That force is love that cultivated grows,
Which gives and gives until it overflows.
Keep in Touch!