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GOD PROTECTS YOUR SOUL - Amor Vincit Omnia

ɐɯɐ éʌop ǝʇʇɐq ɐɯ ǝʌop é uou ɐuuop ɐun ǝp ǝɹonɔ 1ı-Gnothi Se Auton - Γνῶθι σαυτόν

Posts tagged with "my poetry"

silence...

, , ,

You called me,
an echo in my dream
when my house was filled with
silence
You told me
you didn't want to be alone.
So, I went to our place.
Our place, that little part of the city
we called our very own...
despite all the people that bustled in it.
I descended the stair
there was no wind but the
cold air.
I walked the street
I had to
to get to you.
Eventually
I sat by your side.
You didn't ask me to
just the silence
of the cold air
A couple near us
was talking cheerfully
and a man, he walked his dog.
The light broke up the shadows
of the night
We talked and we listened to each other,
neither knowing how it began or ended.
You talked. I talked.
I told you it would be alright.
You told me I should face it.
We both said we didn't know how.
And we laughed at each other.
you took my hand.
You looked at me, so I embraced you.
I told you "don't be scared".
We were in our land, our little kingdom.
No one knows we go there
- except maybe for the couple and the man with the dog.
You were gone by the time I opened my eyes.
I knew you would,
eventually, do this.
I stood up - it was after midnight
a new day.
But I remember now
when I got to our place
looking for you,
once again
hoping
It wasn't your eyes I met.
It was my own.
The silence
of leaves
a couple
a man with a dog
and the light
that broke up shadows
of the night
And I was the only one looking back
at myself
sitting there once
with your hand in mine
I didn´t feel the warmth
but cold air
and
I died once again.

by Isabel Gallagher

A Single Strand of Hair...

,



Every once in awhile

I find a single strand of hair

that is kinky and jet black

in my long brown hair

I stare at it in wonder

at who you were

were you of Africa

or of gypsy strain?

Running around

in the blood of my name?

And sometimes I spy

a very light hair

thinking at first

the signs of old age

with closer inspection

I discover it blond...

Are you the flemish

the jewish or spanish

that I know to be running around

in the currents of my blood?

I smile at the past

hidden in the mysteries

of who I am

There is a trace of something

from the world over...

Do I have your eyes?

Your smile? Your nose?

A gesture kept immortal

Since the seed was first planted?

Of this,

I am sure

In every part of my being.

We cross paths with each other

in every single smile I meet.

You are my Eve

You have planted the first seed

nurtured and raised every generation.

you´re alive, immortal

through me, my children

for they are all yours.

That the beauty comes from within

the innermost part of my being.

Sometimes, I get a sensation

an emotion of being home

Where I´ve never been before

a whispered thank you

from the past

for bringing you back

to where your story started.

And I am left bewildered

with what that story was

hidden in the folds

of the mystery of my blood.

To honor my every mother

and my every father

being kind to my brothers

and sisters throughout the world.

I honor you Eve, with my life

each and every single one.

You, immortal, since the beginning.

I unravel my story

and the longer the string

the less there is left to tell

Retracing that strand

of a single jet black hair

Going back to the beginning

into one tiny knot

of that first tentative seed

the dream that was planted,

nurtured throughout the centuries.

Hundreds of strands of hair

maintaining connections

to the faces that disappear

into the folds of my skin

A gradual unveiling of history

opens up before my eyes

And in revolving circles

I find variety in repetition

that to go forward

you have to go back

to where you began.

And what humans forget

the genes will forever remember

We are one, We are immortal

the past, the present, the future

is in the mystery of every child´s smile...

- by Isabel Gallagher

Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
* p.s. a single strand of hair symbolizes a union linked together forever.

My Rainbow...

, ,






I color my life

full with colors

painted upon my heart, body and soul...

People true to who they are

And when I see someone stray

I pull them back

to see that the sun comes up

again the next day...



People full of colors

the colors of the rainbow

true to who they truly are

People who haven´t colored

their lives in gray...



They cry when they fail

picking themselves up to carry on

true to who they truly are...

not one is a liar or a cheat

building up walls of self deception.



I color my life with colors

I see God in everybody

I don´t color my life gray

True to my spirit

living my dream

I have loved always true

body, heart and soul

seeing forever the sun come up

next day...





by Isabel Gallagher




Creative Commons License "My Rainbow" - Isabel Gallagher


This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

I hear every breath...

, ,



Emotions so deep...

when I sleep

and when I dream.

Memories I skim

with a touch of my fingertip

The ripples

that travel

through my memories

of my tears

Spiralling through

the dust of time

My time here is so

brief

Emotions true

to my spirit

Did you feel it?



The dust falls through

my fingertips

like old letters

that crumble and yellow

with time...

Forgotten, but still

so alive

travelling

through the memories

of time...



Your eyes still haunt

me

when I sleep

I hear every breath

Know that

when you become mysteriously distracted,

it is I invading your thoughts.

I assaulting your dreams...

by Isabel Gallagher

Creative Commons License work: poem "I hear every breath - by Isabel Gallagher
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License. I assaulting your dreams.

Dreams... don´t let them slip away...

, , , ...



Who can touch you when you have God on your side?







art link: Dreamer







DREAMER...



I´m a dreamer...

and I walk in my dream.

Never losing sight of it.

Eyes wide open to my dream.

Are you a dreamer?

Or have you lost sight of it?

Are you true to your spirit?

Or have you filled it with walls

of doubts and lies?

My dream is in my eyes...

Always...

I never lose sight of it

Life is beautiful

and I live it true

to my spirit... :heart:



- Isabel Gallagher

Creative Commons License work "Dreamer" by Isabel Gallagher
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

A Spoiled Boy...

,

art link: Old Age???



A spoiled boy sat alone in the corner

surrounded with his broken un-repairable toys...

A life full of broken dreams

tossed aside into that corner

A lifetime of lies and deception

and now only silence weighs heavily upon his shoulders

The clock ticks loudly in that silence



This little boy

forgotten the love his mother taught him

and he had forgotten how to feel

with all his heart body and soul

A mother bitterly betrayed

Her beauty forgotten...

with his actions upon her kind.



The toys were broken

in his fits of rage and frustration

and he forgot what his mother told him

about being kind and patient...

The toys lay scattered

in fields of sad memory

and all that is left now

are pictures in a frame

and the neverending silence...



The little boy sits in the corner

gathering dust and cobwebs

Lines streaking across his face...

A dirty old sack

of nothing

but broken dreams...



by: Isabel Gallagher



Creative Commons License work - poem: "A Spoiled Boy... by Isabel Gallagher"


This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

When Death comes knocking...

,

art by William Blake



When Death comes knocking

Will you be afraid?

will there be tears

or a general sigh of relief



When Death comes knocking

will there be someone

to hold your hand

or will they be far

in another land?



When Death comes knocking

Death comes knocking everyday

Have you shown kindness?

I wonder what you gave...



When Death comes knocking

There is a silence

where no sound should be

an eloquent breath

taking speechless flight

into the night...



When Death comes knocking

There, true silence,

bold and utterly alone.

Let Death be kind

For Death for you is so final.



When Death comes knocking

The voices will hush

and a sleep profound

shadows wandering free



When Death comes knocking

Death is knocking at your door

And when time comes

The clocks will cease to be heard

It will be sooner than you know



When Death comes knocking

In my dream scape

I bless it for

giving me

another breath



When Death comes knocking

Will you be afraid?



by Isabel Gallagher Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License. The work "Poem": When Death Comes Knocking, is by Isabel Gallagher unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

Copyright © [21 May, 2007] [Isabel Gallagher] Copyleft : cette oeuvre est libre, vous pouvez la redistribuer et/ou la modifier selon les termes de la Licence Art Libre. Vous trouverez un exemplaire de cette Licence sur le site Copyleft Attitude http://www.artlibre.org/ ainsi que sur d'autres sites.

My God...

, ,


The heart is not made of stone...
and it becomes fragile when alone.

something in the way you talk
it just didn´t sound right
because i am blessed in the light
i don´t walk
in the shadows of the night.

i have always looked at this world
straight in the eyes
and i won´t fill it
with your lies...

my faith was strong
you needed more proof?
you made me falter
with all your darkness

but i never lost my faith
never turned my back to my God
and my God has risen again
stronger than ever...
and slowly you understand
the power of my God.
Oh it shines away
far upon the horizon

i wonder if you can reach it?

I was your friend
i won´t walk behind you
nor walk on ahead
i know about kindness
never knew your kind
of blindness.

i opened up my heart
and you tried
to tear it apart

there´s more to life
than what makes YOU cry
and I won´t say goodbye...

Take your hands
from your eyes
and see the
living sun-rise...

You may need it tomorrow
you may need it today
will you ever let the
darkness fade away?

The only songs that
are worth singing
are those sung
again...
and again.

That, my friend,
is the road to freedom.

by Isabel Gallagher

Creative Commons License

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License. The work Poem: My God, is by Isabel Gallagher unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

Copyright © [4th of May, 2007] [Isabel Gallagher] Copyleft : cette oeuvre est libre, vous pouvez la redistribuer et/ou la modifier selon les termes de la Licence Art Libre. Vous trouverez un exemplaire de cette Licence sur le site Copyleft Attitude http://www.artlibre.org/ ainsi que sur d'autres sites.

Touching God...

, , ,


i touch god
in silence...



feel the beauty
when i touch god...





freedom
all around
when i touch god.



by isabel gallagher




Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License. The work Poem: Touching God, is by Isabel Gallagher unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.

Copyright © [29th of April, 2007] [Isabel Gallagher] Copyleft : cette oeuvre est libre, vous pouvez la redistribuer et/ou la modifier selon les termes de la Licence Art Libre. Vous trouverez un exemplaire de cette Licence sur le site Copyleft Attitude http://www.artlibre.org/ ainsi que sur d'autres sites.





Picture in a frame...

, , ,

photo link
The worthwhile memories...
we hold them close to our hearts...
and put them in a frame.
To true friendship and family.
and the beautiful memories
we share.







The rest we throw away...





by Isabel Gallagher



Creative Commons License
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.
The work Poem: Picture in a Frame, is by Isabel Gallagher unless otherwise expressly stated, is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 License.