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Where, What

Sometimes a stink comes up from the earth you cannot tell where or what but all around the odor is telling a story. People move away, it's not what you say, they are disturbed by the odor in the room, they move away. Do you glorify the stink or the one who can clean the air? Is your mind stuffed with false files cluttered and muttled? Has the laundry been piling the dishes sitting in the sink collecting slime. What is more pristine? Who holds the honor role? Who holds m...


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The Lord Reveals His Omnipotence to Job 38

38 Then the Lord answered Job out of the whirlwind, and said: 2 “Who is this who darkens counsel By words without knowledge? 3 Now prepare yourself like a man; I will question you, and you shall answer Me. 4 “Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell Me, if you have understanding. 5 Who determined its measurements? Surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it? 6 To what were its foundations fastened? Or who laid its cornerstone, 7 When the morning star...


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Chopped

I've been chopped into a thousand intersections roads that lead to dead ends and then split again to other roads that only circle back. When I was young, a child growing in my heart and mind, searching on a road the pieces fit and nothing fell off. But, after years of slowly turning to other gods for a brief satisfaction has divided my heart into sections of longings, empty. Dreams shift into a mesh mash of misunderstanding and confusion. I cannot find the words to e...


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Too Many Hands

Too many hands to grab at nothing things. Too many hands to hold what has no value fleeting and dying. Too many hands that reach for empty jars and interrupt where I am placed to be. One set of hands to caress a face, to hold someone else's hand to help a friend up, to wave hello, to touch a child's hair, to hold a pen and write my soul, to hold a paint brush and spread my vision. one set of hands in prayer. one set of hands to raise in praise and thanksgivi...


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Alienation and Restoration

Vincenzo Ricardo. If that name does not mean much to you, you are not alone. It does not seem to have meant much to anyone else except, perhaps, him who bore it. In fact it was not even his name. His real name was Vincenzo Riccardi, and nobody seemed to get it right after the sensational discovery of his mummified body in Southampton, New York. He had been dead for 13 months, but his television was still on, and his body was propped up in a chair in front of it.(1) The television was his only co...


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WISDOM CRIES OUT

"Wisdom calls aloud in the street, she raises her voice in the public squares; at the head of the noisy streets she cries out, in the gateways of the city she makes her speech:" Truth the beacon to point us to the home beyond the pavement our feet step on and invisible to the seeing eye. We ground our steps on the land planted not to be moved. We proclaim ignorantly so, we are earth and we have created our own heavenly image. Are we liars to ourselves? Does the pot say to the potter, "W...


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Living without love

Living behind a bubble glass of lies and dreams I pretend everything will be ok, not realizing the reality will hit me square in the face. Shock fills me, the void is empty and cannot cradle my heavy heart. Friends? Acquaintances? Really? Friends on the internet sometimes yes, but really? I guess one could say that is true. I've met in person a few. It's the meeting, the hugging the laughing, the interchange of thoughts and ideas that complete the cycle of friendship. I am sad th...


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Deep in the Skin

deep in the skin holds secrets. pockets of toxic thoughts linger from a beaten dead horse. Boxing shadows and no one knows because they live in caves in the middle of a colony far beyond the milky way. deep in skin a colony of another order parades to hold a meeting to bring down the wholesome line of defense. The heart cries for help to be delivered from the wrath of toxic thoughts, looking for a remedy outside the wall of skin. As prayer would have it, in mercy the S...


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Unopened, Opened Containers

Unopened, opened containers unfinished business sitting or gone into another room hiding. Stories have a non-ending sound looping into the next and where the travelers goes becomes a merry go around. Uncompleted thoughts hanging like expecting meanings unattainable unfinished, partly begun, left, unopened. A patchwork of colors and design to some creative, to some disoriented, to some sadness, to some one wonders if guilt leads one there? Allison Ashton©


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Twas' 11 days

Twas' 11 days before Christmas, around 9:38 when 20 beautiful children stormed through heaven's gate. their smiles were contagious, their laughter filled the air. they could hardly believe all the beauty they saw there. they were filled with such joy, they didn't know what to say. they remembered nothing of what had happened earlier that day. "where are we?" asked a little girl, as quiet as a mouse. "this is heaven." declared a small boy. "we're spending Christmas at God's house." when w...


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My friends...

My friends on BC, you know the ones I keep in touch with, in the lounge or those that keep supporting me. I know we do not see eye to eye on many, many issues. That may cause a rift between us on a deeper level. Sometimes I sense that splinter in certain places that I cannot openly share my view because it will cause some deep seated feelings to arrive. Especially in what has recently occurred in the school tragedy. I think when two do not walk together in the same thinking they begin to drift, ...


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Guns in Our Hands, Guns in Our Hearts

Guns in our hands Guns in our hearts. Guns, we may not own but we gun one down with our words. before the firey bullet can tear at our flesh Our hearts are torn asunder by senseless acts of pain. Our hearts are damaged when we hate, when we use words to wound ruined, loss and then die. Guns, we lay them down we lay down our hatred, lay down, our jealous, lay down or pride, lay down or fear. We seek the healing path. the lost soul that lost his way, controlled by...


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Ramblings

It feels crazy when you walk into this room and out of sorts... you hear arguing, talking, crying, whispering, pointing, laughing more arguing, looking around, analysing, scribbling notes, heads sunk into a laptop, ipod, iphone and then looking up to make notes. The problems end and begin and begin and end and like a yarn of ball that has become so big no one seems to be able to untie the ends to make sense of it. Nothing makes sense in this room. One is lieing the other is not. T...


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The True Light

He came and like a candle it lit up the sky. That First Light that brought men from afar to worship Him. The Light grew and filled each place of darkness He encountered. It was and is the Light that cannot be put out. Though for a moment That Light was turned off, sacrificed for you and me in our darkness. He was that true light that lights every man that comes into the world. But then, on that glorious day, The Light burst forth in even more spectacular glory with triumph...


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Flatline Reason

Flatlined…………………………… No hills, no mountain scape No structure of color to form a taste of reason or justice on our tongue Flatline thinking to the ill of our soul. A dictator is given cudo's on being sexy and they laugh and smirk, Our reason stands…"What!?" The flatiron heavy's itself on reason and justice to smooth out the edges to match other reasoners – justice from a Pseudo Maker. Society believing lies and no one cares for the truth. Truth cri...


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I Get Stumped

It is not what I plan and I know that I try hard to understand what I am to do. Sometimes it's as plain as the nose on my face, but for the life of me I don't see it. My mom told me this when I was young and I think it has stuck with me, sad to say. She said to me (after having run tests on why I struggled in school) the things that are everyday common sense you don't get as quickly but the deeper things you understand maybe a little better or more. Yep, it's the nose on my face that I look ...


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Transcend.

You walked into my presence the essence of your heart softly fell as layers of soft sheer silk wrapping, draping around my longing for comfort and ease. It was not until later I knew this was from you. The creativity of His Spirit – profound, transcends, walks through walls, timeless, endless, beginning and the end. The light softness my breath, my steps, my shoulders and my burden. Allison Ashton©


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The Listening Jacket

She sat in the waiting room what seemed like hours, maybe days. The room seemed to change and/or rotate. Was it her or was the room that kept changing? She got up an paced the room. Large and empty with one or two people in distant corners waiting. "What are they here for?" she wondered. The bareness of the room, almost despairing. As she thought to herself, this room was not always this bleak though there was always a wait. I remembered as she thought, "it being pleasant to the eyes and with ot...


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If God is Love

If God is love, why do we hate, hold grudges if God is love. If God is love why do chose to ignore, look down on others, making ourselves look better, If God is love. If God is love why do some feel indifferent toward his Son, If God is love. Why do we judge, curse, not forgive, play head games, dishonest, lie, steal from each other, if God is love. Maybe we don't feel loved but feel judged by ourselves and others, not good enough. Maybe a long running tape r...


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Tower of Babylon (Babel)

Building, again, a tower of Babylon (Babel) as high as you can go with wifi speeds G3, G4 and more. Our minds can climb into a heaven of our own making - the earth as we know only fades beneath our feet. A One World language pervading our minds. The tower keeps growing and enough height is not enough, we must build higher and higher. Faster speeds, faster connects, light beams of communication. We leave the earth and float on a celestial mind level. Only seconds from the tower we...


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