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Those Three Words
We are told that the words we speak will be used against us in judgment… We shall have to look over our written and spoken records. Silence. It would have been preferred. But when words failed me, I acted in violence. I acted on impulse. I reacted. This psychological conundrum catalyzed a revolutionary struggle within me. The innate desire for protection and warmth is one thing. The innermost desire to attack is another. But why attack? In the face of apparent danger, one mi

apoemisasong
May 261 min read


My Yellow Skirt Reminds Me of a Dandelion
I sit in the puddle of my tears with a pair of scissors in my right hand. With that pair of scissors, I clip the tips of my yellow petals. It pains my legs, and I’ve never seen petals grow back. I was not pruning, I was self harming and did not realize it— Until I took it upon myself to write this down. Here’s the thing, my yellow skirt hangs above my knees. My other skirts hang above my ankles. My yellow skirt reminds me of a dandelion. This dandy lion has yellow hair and is

apoemisasong
Apr 141 min read


The Man with the Withered Hand
Act I : Walked with a cane at 34 years old. Act II : How can he see beneath the veil? Act III : Can he be loved? Act I: Walked with a cane at 34 years old. His legs looked long and lanky, but only because he was so tall, and his pants so finely tailored. He flashed past me at the museum, wearing a yellow coat and brown shoes. The walls were of vermillion as his sharp, invisible eye glanced over the hangings and displays. I paused, marking the bandage wrapped around his wris

apoemisasong
Mar 272 min read


A Thousand Allelu's
Spiral in control. We have spoken of the loveliness of long-suffering; of the sweats and heaves of love. We speak of things merely touched down below; a shadow of heavenly things to come. We sigh and bemoan unlikely burdens until finally we unleash a single claw. Through the claw, we see red. They flogged Him. I love to speak things of romance; of things sly and wise; of harmless good; of a God who calls Himself Jealous and Love. I'd sink into his heart and love Him more dear

apoemisasong
Mar 122 min read


Blog Entry #1
Mysteries surround my life. Of the ones that occured in my early childhood, it is sufficient for me to know that trauma in the early life produces troubled kids. That is no secret, and there is no shame in that. We live in a sinful world. The sooner we come to that realization, the happier we will be on this side of eternity. I'm now realizing-- 2 weeks after my 28th birthday-- the true import of life. I've suffered enough headaches for a lifetime, but it was begging the Lor

apoemisasong
Feb 282 min read


The Sinner's Dream
Prayers whisper in the aroma of one tongue: "Dear Heavenly Father." That lovely word "Dear": He to Whom we address with reverence and awe. Is not He beyond the marvelous? Yet every prayer begins the same: "Lord, please..." -- amongst these: "Forgive me," "Bless me," "Cleanse me." There is no joy in sin. Herein lies the record of the sinner's plea: "Forgive me," "I'm sorry," "Thank You." Every day. The sinner's prayer is, "Lord, give me temperance," and so henceforth

apoemisasong
Feb 41 min read


Psalm 151
The Lord is my joy, why doth my heart cry out? The Lord is my contentment when my heart is sad. The Lord is my satisfaction when my lungs sigh. I hope for Him in the morning, when the grass is withered, and the cold of night compasseth me round about. He heareth my groanings, when my spirit cries Alas! He heareth my moanings, when my spirit weeps aloud. Selah. Turn ye unto the Lord, O Israel, and let your voice be lift up, ye children of Joseph and Judah. He will carry me upo

apoemisasong
Jan 71 min read


Come Soon, O Ye Sapphire Stone
I wade in the dirt of my own folly, hoping the eyes of one would peak through the dune, yet not sink. I feel as miry clay and a stone, but I know I am a ruby (and he a sapphire). This vessel is poor, as I cannot mingle with the kings and princes of this world. There is weakness in my bones, for I am buried treasure, and no one seems to dig. I cannot swim, and the mucky waters make a tumult. I’d prove my worth if it were possible, but the eyes and ears of those who’ve passed b

apoemisasong
Jul 22, 20251 min read


The Ransomed Debate
For 14+ players This grid of 49 boxes is arranged in a series of letters and numbers. The white squares represent the white group. The golden squares represent the golden group. The grids with coral boxes divide seven questions regarding seven topics: Repentance, Sin, Forgiveness, Atonement, Conviction, Probation, and Literal or Symbolic? How to play : Each player will receive a letter (A-G) or a number (1-7). Draw alternatively from the white or golden group to sequence a p

apoemisasong
May 13, 20252 min read


The Last Letter Had I Sent the Last Letter
Isn’t it strange the imagination – to create a storyline with one who is not there, and with occasions that may never exist? They call it “loving the idea of someone“ – that in contrast to the reality. But I challenge such a notion, that love stories are borne of a back-burner, slowly churning into an untouched field. Yet frankly also, we often know nothing of what truly benefits us – thence we create what our minds would rather absorb. Humans crave love, and that almost with

apoemisasong
May 4, 20253 min read


"Go and Sin No More."
The scent of use is nauseating. Out of the body or inside the flesh, we bear the rottenness of sin. Repeated action of vile character places an awful woe, and completes the absence of desire toward agonizing inward pain. Tremble here, and buckle into nothingness, as we fall to the ground, seized. There is no life here, and the breath has escaped. I'd die immediately and sink to my knees in prayer, inaudibly wailing within shivering lips and shattered teeth. The pain is felt a

apoemisasong
Apr 12, 20252 min read


The Null/Void Personality
Imagine for once that severe mental health is always accompanied by a specific trigger, leading to a specific personality type: the Null/Void Personality. The trigger is either psychological (resulting in schizophrenia) or physical (resulting in post-traumatic stress), but follows a psychosocial ideology: severe isolation. The root is separation from God. In other words, the individual is born with a void. Exposure to the door of evil before the age of consciousness trigge

apoemisasong
Apr 10, 20251 min read


Filament in Glass Bulb I
A muddy exterior Absorbs the likeness of darkness, As a vortex from the deep of the Messier 98. Transition by sand; Quickened from the nucleus of a lifeless soul-- As a root out of the underground. For twelve degrees of thirty units, Laid beyond the north and the south-- An inhabitant of unfair skin In the second month of the coldest set of eyes. One drowned here, Buried in sin-- The death of the remnant of bones. Yet stars burn in their collapse of clouds of dust; The elemen

apoemisasong
Apr 10, 20251 min read


Treasure Chest
To find a compass and to increase the temperature. I am in tears. The vast storehouse of eternity stands before me and I weep. Oh, that goodness of God! — as in a starry host, a mystical whispering cloud, a book of life. For years have I thought myself dead, but today I kneel alive. Alive! as in the shout of triumph. Alive! as in a song. Alive! as in a rapture of joy and thanksgiving. When I took of the fruit, I seduced my husband. When I indecently fell upon my knees, I gave

apoemisasong
Apr 4, 20251 min read


Peculiar Bronze Vessel
Concerning religion, of which the majority are fearfully drawn away, we hear a tolling, clashing bell, and see a swirling golden cup, mingled with blood. I know of the intercession; I know of the pouring out upon an anguished soul. I am distraught of ease, that my feet can bear no burden than Christ. I find joy in proclamation, though I sense a lurking danger; thus I fear to be caught unawares. The premonition of a foreboding judgment is in my eye, while the signs dictate the

apoemisasong
Mar 31, 20252 min read


Pearls On My Wedding Ring
I told my husband I want a ring. Oh, but "Adventists wear not jewelry," "a marriage relationship is not covenanted by the presence of a signet". Oh, but listen, contradictor, I want but one pearl of great price. He consented that I sold my belongings to give to the poor, for the land wherewith the pearl is hid costs a life. Where are the jewels and the gems that cost a life? On the hunt for treasure, we are pirates who travel by sea and by land. I say pirates for the loss of

apoemisasong
Mar 29, 20254 min read


A Message from the Wretchedest
"Hear the trumpet, the alarm of war: the lion has come! The Lord who made the earth and everything in it, He holds your very breath in his hands. But you carve your gods, you seek your future in their signs, and you feed your children to their fire! The siege is coming. You will be taken. But even in the face of your contempt, He loves you enough to correct you." J eremiah's Lament , by Sight and Sound Theatres , "Daniel". May God consume the spirits of Belial. May He turn co

apoemisasong
Mar 21, 20253 min read


Melchizedek
His name was Salemn, and its meaning was Prince of God, a peaceful sound, a solemn sound. He had curly hair that sat upon his clavicle, buckled around itself, like clouds. I first saw him in a dream, like words hanging in the atmosphere, shaped like the stars that form a constellation, spelling solemnity and quietude. His voice was gentle as the morning and evening sea, but I saw him as a wet lion, drenched at the paws. I fell in love deeply. He had an arousing figure. His wo

apoemisasong
Mar 12, 20252 min read


Worship on G upon the Psaltery
—————————-——————————————-——-— ——————--——————————————-—————— ————-——-———————————————-————— Snapped upon a stringless air, 𝄞 clef’t of heart; —————————-———————-————-—————— —————--————————————————-————— ————-——————-————————————-———— ————-—————-——————————————-——— Upon an Aged Rock, mournful morning woes. ————-——————-————————————-———— ———-—-————————————————-—————— ———-——-————————————————-————— —————-———-———————————————-——— ½ sung a dovely song, pluck’t tune in G spot; ———-———-———

apoemisasong
Feb 28, 20251 min read


Sticky Fingers
Mine heart hath hands, with digits extending forth from the cage wherewith she is held, through the open parts, out of my chest. A warm embrace, she’d hope, but attaching onto nothing but the spirit of a Man whom she has yet to touch. My fingers should be warm, or must be cold. I am paint; a stain from the valve of a dissection from Adam’s side, though I know not where he is. Perhaps the other should inform me, and His mouth is sweet, a composition of letters meant to create

apoemisasong
Feb 23, 20252 min read
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