Quotes about penance, page 12
Out of the Depths
In the creative clash
Wit and inspiration
Desperadoes of the soul
Struggling
Hand-to-eye, knife-to-throat
Illusion and fact head-locked
Aesthetics sucker-punched with
Second-guessing
A blur in the clutch of
Tunnel vision
Head pounding on closing wall
Hour upon hour
Day upon night
Caffeine and cigarette, sweat and blood
Stain the solitude
Paid in sacrifice of bread and clay
Hell’s black fire
Char the midnight silence
A gash of moon for
Penance.
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poem by Laurence Overmire
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Cicatrise
To heal and scar this way is burdensome too far
to bear alone in peace – narrow blades of fortune
don’t condone mistakes or random chance of fate
as fair or foul, or foiled in avid cut and thrust of
bare but venomous miscegeny; matched finesse
of strength’s vitality compares as fearless dash
or wears a penchant’s frown, whereas duplicity
equates au pair with rampant perfidy
So scars are worn a rhapsody – and fate a score
of music writ with liberal flair for air or string;
voices sing with equal verve in praise of fantasy,
twinge a nerve, raise a brow, there’s ample space
for sure again within, places yet to be amazed –
you can abjure your penance and be free
poem by Margaret Alice Second
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All The Demons And Ghosts
You have stolen my 'todays', yet you shan't steal my tomorrow-
Thought upon your deceitful ruse surely hastens sorrow!
Nary shall there be, for you, a proper penance,
Somehow though, you must come to truth's acceptance!
The only way to take leave of your deceit-
Is to allow for my truth to defeat,
All the Demons and Ghosts
Responsible for your shame, the most!
For if but only, our children's posterity
You owe, at the least, your honesty!
Without such, your downfall you have surely brought,
As is, to tell the truth, is what you ought!
They say: 'the truth shall set you free'-at least you, it shall keep-
Otherwise choice made, causes my heart's weep!
3 August 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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The Profundity Of Paternal Pain
My purpose in life absconded, is the reason why
The more I live, the more I die-
At times, I no longer have tears, to even cry;
I have not given in to despair though, nor would I try
To push back the pain that I feel inside;
It has become a battle between sorrow and stubborn pride,
Where all that is left for me to decide
Is how often I will be on either side
Of this great, profound, emotional divide-
Betwixt the death of my soul and where I am allied!
With time, the pain does not dull or lessen,
Nor does it serve to teach me a lesson;
The pain is my penance for what others have done,
And the struggle will not cease until I have won!
-Maurice Harris,17 August 2011
poem by Maurice Harris
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Hunger
I've been a hopeless sinner, but I understand a
saint,
Their bend of weary knees and their con-
tortions long and faint,
And the endless pricks of conscience, like a hundred
thousand pins,
A real perpetual penance for imaginary sins.
I love to wander widely, but I understand a cell,
Where you tell and tell your beads because you've
nothing else to tell,
Where the crimson joy of flesh, with all its wild
fantastic tricks,
Is forgotten in the blinding glory of the crucifix.
I cannot speak for others, but my inmost soul is
torn
With a battle of desires making all my life forlorn.
There are moments when I would untread the paths
that I have trod.
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poem by Gamaliel Bradford
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Disillusions
Their something here. I am looking past the dust in the air. It clouds the judgement of most. I am ready to face my ghost. Disillusions watered down and wrapped in a tiny package with such a pretty bow. I no longer know, what i should. Is it really for the greater good. Give me the ability to see beyond the darken trees. Impossibilities, searching with hesitation, and the forthright knowledge that i might just never find it. Its like being lied too over and over again. Who are your real friends. Who will stand by you even in the wrong. All the others i wish just to be gone. Leave me alone to my own devices. Its a penance i must continue to pay. Enough i say just go away, with the games you tried to play.
poem by Ace Of Black Hearts
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St Mary Of Egypt
Strong to suffer, strong to sin,
Loving much, and much forgiven,
In the desert realm a queen,
Penance-crowned, to cope with Heaven,
Solitude alone could be
Room enough for God and thee.
Long the vigil, stern the fast;
Morn, with night's anointing, chill;
Noon with passion overcast;
Night with phantoms fouler still;
Prayer and penitential tears
Battling with the lust of years.
Low upon the parching sand,
Shrivelled in the blight of day,
As beneath a throbbing brand
Prone thy ghastly shadow lay,
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poem by John Bannister Tabb
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A Father's Prayer
A Father's prayer...but to be with his ladies, unseen:
To see and aid them as they e'er too rapidly, grow;
Not a greater pleasure and honor in my life, will I know!
Has it been forever, since last I have seen?
A monster, named fear, took me away,
As though a death sentence to me each day!
All was tried, to rationalize actions taken,
Left was I: forlorn, heart-broken and forsaken!
I am the antithesis of all that about me, was said;
If there be truth inherent-wish myself would I, dead!
I have been asked to pay for crimes, not my own,
For others though, I have indeed penance, atoned!
All I have ever asked, was for the truth to emerge-
Surely it has indeed-soon to remove us from this scourge!
Maurice Harris,8 March 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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Tumultuous Temptations Torment My Temperment
Tumultuous temptations torment my temperment,
Though patience and love allow me, regression;
Once done, you may not undo it-for it is permanent-
Alas, its avoidance may be ensured by progression!
Penance shall be served by thee-though given a choice
You shall be, each allowing an eternal reminder! !
Allowance given shall suffice for the decision you voice,
My lonesome heart shall again have a finder!
Flight has been given to our love, for us to find
Our way back to our individual emanence!
The power and magic, shall we two bind
Reminding us each day of its never-ceasing permanence!
Have I now envisioned but your only response?
Enlightened you shall be as to how your heart absconds!
Maurice Harris,17 June 2008
poem by Maurice Harris
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A Blank Canvas
The many years I have lived without your embrace
Should suffice as penance, so that you may face
The prospect of forgiveness, vis-a-vis my once-held fears
That cost us a life together, while gifting only tears!
What is past is prologue, yet a blank canvas remains
With which we may paint a future together, to erase the pains
Of all that my mistake has taken from us.
All we need is the faith in our hearts, and some trust
In the serendipity of our divine re-acquaintance-
Where once there was anxious trepidation, there is now only patience
And the conviction of a soul, which needs for its mate.
My life is obsequious to the powers of fate,
Which brought us back to one another, so that we are now nigh-
Close enough to give one another try!
poem by Maurice Harris
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