Before my persecuted I stand ashamed Before my life I turn disgusted
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If God is what we see around us,
Then I'm intoxicated with the god of something abundant and green;
Where the trees tower and plains flow,
When the water gives life,
And I know there is hope;
For this is God.
But all I see now is Neit;
And there is no Morrigan in this god.
It's the god of man;
I am made sick.
#original writing#writing#war#peace#i've always been fascinated by celtic mythology#it's full of nature#i hope to study it one day
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Mercy and Trust
By Aester R. Holly
In the presence of Mercy,
There is Trust;
In the presence of Trust,
There is Mercy.
To think of it as one and another
Undermines the whole scenario,
For we all dwell in Mercy
Every instance we give Trust.
When we walk the mortal coil,
We are at the mercy of Fate
and trust she be kind each morning.
When the sailor rides wild seas,
He hopes the waves have mercy
and trusts they'll carry him home.
When the driver takes to suburban waters,
She's convinced that others have mercy
and found a mutual trust.
When the baby puts a foot forward,
Mercy comes at the hands of a parent
and Trust follows until the body fails.
However,
When I trust, I'm at one's mercy
And that scares me to death.
Because when I trust my eyes,
They catch movement never there;
When I trust my nose,
I makes my head spin;
When I trust my touch,
It only responds to pain;
And when I trust man,
I cling so tight
and I ball my eyes out,
Since it's the closest I can get
To the one known as God.
The presence of Mercy
Means that there's also Trust;
And, when they come together,
They are Faith.
#original poem#original writing#poem#poetry#writing#trust#mercy#faith#it's an interesting notion#it this this goes along with the Celtic desire for threes#it's a common desire to want to have all three#when we did church camp they'd blind fold us and have others lead us around#scared me half to death each time#now I must do that all over the place#being an adult means that all around you there must be faith#you must trust others#and have mercy likewise#how interesting
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Dairy Isle
By Aester R. Holly
To gaze upon us in the melting pot of culture,
You'd find a bubbling mass of assorted cheese.
English,
Scottish,
Irish,
Welsh,
German,
French,
Scandinavian,
And the like;
You can hardly tell us apart.
So, we are cheese.
But then there's a visible discoloration:
Red.
From the hair on my head and others,
You finally discern origin,
Yet I can't tell you why.
We're lost in the sea of dairy
Proceed by a system calling us all cheddar
For we could only be cheddar.
They stole all our cattle and sheep
Leaving our pastures empty;
They took the calves and lambs
to feed them English grass;
They killed our cows and ewes
through the binding brand;
They forced us to pay for cheddar.
I can't tell you why I'm a Highland Heifer
or how I ended up with Longhorns,
But I wish I could go back;
I wish I could know more;
I want to study who I could've been
And produce Crowdie, Cashel Blue, and Bierkase
Instead of Kraft Cheddar Singles.
#original poem#original writing#poem#poetry#writing#cultural identity#or lack thereof#scottish#irish#german#those are the main three#with a bit of stuff mixed in#american culture#cheese#i just want to know ig#find a reason for the way I act#and the way i look
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My Voluptuous Lover
By Aester R. Holly
If I had a lover,
who's size surpassed the rest,
I find myself lucky
For what's to lose when there's excess?
No bones will serve to puncture me,
for I am Ruler rich in flesh.
As long as my lover is healthy,
And she serves to me sweetened smiles,
I will love her curves as vikings did
For she be my fair maiden,
That lone piece of home drawn isles.
Nor will I hide from her steps
as she's the goddess making my world quake;
I'm left bow-legged and tumbling to her pace.
I bare myself to her, all but utmost physically,
to take in those vibrantions;
May she make my intestines shake.
My pump, round, exceeding darling,
I want you to make my intestines shake.
#original poem#original writing#poem#poetry#writing#women#beautiful women#i love all women#i spose you're seeing that in my works#but I had the thought yk#how is making the ground shake a bad thing????#insert smirk here#i'm a filthy lil creature#let me have this#plus size positivity#bring em to me#the more the merrier#unlike what my brothers say#i'll bake for you#please#in the year of our lord 2025#in the month of our lord june#i'm begging
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Signature Book
by Aester R. Holly
In retrospect, I'll see you as ingenuity:
A response to ends unmet;
So that father sorrows not,
And I have at least one memory forever.
A book bought blank: the bargain
Of an experience crucial.
But now, in this present moment,
I think of you and my heart breaks
Because you are only a thought;
And I want you here, so that I'm included.
I have plans but that most sullen father,
He keeps you from me.
Was his conscience ever tormented?
Is he too distracted in his age?
When I think about you,
I want to cry
For you aren't here in my grasp,
And I can't construct you to beauty;
So that I may be distracted in my own right
From the fact that I'm alone,
And will be, solely surrounded by ink.
Why can't have you?
Why can't I cherish memory?
#original poem#original writing#poem#poetry#writing#The struggles of being a dependent#loneliness#it's just a yearbook#but everyone gets at least one in their lives#this one#I must make it myself#that says a lot about the life i'm saddled with#at this point I should just be grateful i get to graduate#who am I even going to tell about my highschool years anyway?#My children?#not in the cards at the moment
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Not just a Homemaker, But a Mother, too
by Aester R. Holly
Oh, we see you more than maker
Of home which you reside in but neigh
That you never lived in,
Where you slave to a coast.
The men and children's host-
Is this your sole duty?
No, because you are Mother:
Mother of children, possibly husband, too.
When heavy with bump at morning,
You sit in pleased fawning
As they grope, pet, and caress
After hours of your husband's likewise press.
It finally shows, the pride of your life.
The moment it truly starts
Is when another begins in you.
Then your child comes, and more after;
They make you fulfilled, mother.
Now you exist,
For they can truly define you better:
Mommy put to the test.
When a good mother,
You are patient, even tempered;
You care without complaint;
You tend without groaning.
Cleaning, folding, and playing,
You're the perfect mother
For your children say so.
But, that's not true,
That's not you.
Because you are a bad mother,
Who cries in pain and stress;
Who scolds her children;
Who never wanted them to begin
Because they told you
That women aren't people
Til they come pregnant;
And by God,
You just want to be known.
So, you are bad mother
For your children know-so.
They know you not as homemaker
Nor see you as mother,
But understand you are person;
That label which fits you better:
Human.
#original poem#original writing#poem#poetry#writing#happy mother's day#i feel like a bitter spinster#All these men are here and judging it seems#cant they just see us as people#i mean it's all well and good to praise mothers but christ i want to be more than “mother” and “not yet mother”#For christ sake#see us as we struggle#understand that we are more than the children we have and don't have
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Effort
by Aester R. Holly
Jamming
Our fingers
In
to
Rocks
They jab back
But we carry on
Grappling
Climbing
Towards Summit
Dusty
Dry
Sweaty
Slipping
But we fight
Until our heads peek over
Til our bodies roll to level ground
And we find water
A puddle, crystal blue
We cup our shaky hands
And
drip
drops
to
our
Cracked lips
It tastes like copper
Tangs like salt
But it is the best we've ever had
And we meet in loving kiss
For we had made it here
We found victory
#original poem#original writing#poem#poetry#writing#hope#struggle#victory#i watched a video of two quail and it inspired me#i tried to writing in a way similar to e.e cummings#cool dude#hope his life went alright#tw blood#a bit
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Taunt Strings Twang
By Aester R. Holly
Tethered tight to me,
We strum together the perefect melody.
Major cord pulled minor,
Our sound changes so subtly.
Never coiled,
We sit at different ends.
The spectrum is broad,
But my field is narrow;
We can not meet,
so it is best to remain friends.
Yet, I love you.
Sure our song's a bit different,
But so are we instruments.
A mist the simple cord progression,
You miss my minor 7th;
It's out shone by my major 6th.
We play on in harmony
As the tones pull away.
We are nearing the point of no return.
When the snap echos in slow beating,
And our melody bare no repeating.
#original poem#original writing#poem#poetry#writing#love poem#love poetry#I hardly understand love#why must it be so fluid!#I have written so many things about them bc i hardly understand it#they're my friend#but I want to spend my life with them#im screaming#I hope to God they don't discover this blog#i'd die from embarrassment and shame#wrench my heart out#dispose of it#I can feel the cringe already#sobbing#If they do- this is a poem about friendship#please you got to believe me
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baptist-church: VC 1
by Aester R. Holly
Call began: 1st Century CE
Jesus Christ entered the chat
Peter entered the chat
James entered the chat
John entered the chat
Phillip entered the chat
Judas Iscariot entered the chat
Matthew entered the chat
Thomas entered the chat
James entered the chat
Bartholomew entered the chat
Jude entered the chat
Simon entered the chat
Simple server, call between friends:
What’s for lunch? Any dinner plans?
Where are we going?
Has anyone seen @JesusChrist?
Where are we meeting Saturday?
Who’s bringing what?
@JudasIscariot what have you done?
Jesus left the chat
Judas left the chat
Jesus entered the chat
Jesus left the chat
Amist it all, the invites flowed,
And added unto the server were 3,000;
And the number then grew.
It swelled, sunk, and soared once more.
Then, the chat shattered:
Broken into pieces, factions,
Denominations.
All in one call,
The people grew loud,
Hiding in their chat room
When they began to swoon
To side who saw momentary reason;
The call became thunderous.
We are correct:
You are corrupt.
We know best:
You know nothing.
Lord help them:
Master punish them.
“Punish them”:
The resonant cry
Of Christian’s call.
It is the point of commonality,
Where all find community;
So the call rings, too.
Punish the sinner;
Punish the thinner;
Punish the poor;
Punish the whore;
Punish the queer;
Punish the jew;
But never me and you.
God left the church
And the call continues on
Not knowing what’s now gone.
#original poem#original writing#poem#poetry#writing#christianity#christian faith#christian church#I had this thought my first time walking out mid-sermon#no one is preaching anymore#there's no revolutionary examination of the bible in our churches#there's this pervasive message of 'better than thou' attitude#it's disgusting#this is from my back log of poems with more coming as the world eats itself into darkness#God im sick
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"Vapor", Son of Adam
By Aester R. Holly
Like little Mary, mother blessed;
Little brother, first to rest
in blood spilt from a wound,
the one who died too soon.
Who were you shepard boy
But God’s little pride and joy.
Jealousy
Envy
He laid his hands on you
and brought you swift to brother’s end.
Did his actions look familar?
Years of watching each delivery to divinity,
He became expert.
Did he use a rock?
Pulled back to thrust forward,
As many times he needed.
Did he hold you tight?
Like keeping the lambs,
He made sure you wouldn’t fight.
You knew death
So you knew yours, too.
Pain and agony of your sheep
made you wonder, in sinking rest,
Will you see the land so blessed?
#original poem#original writing#poem#poetry#writing#bible story#cain and abel#tw death#tw violence#I think more people should look at Abel's part in this story#first person to die#i wonder how that would feel#idc if it's symbolic of hunter gather to farming#they're real to me#i just think they're neat
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I need Mary Shelley like- carnally
At this moment
I'd let her hit it
I want her to hit it
Deadass
#shitpost#mary shelley#tw suggestive#am i ashamed?#hell no#i need her#i need her to like-#shes incredible#i have to make love to such a fine woman#we'd talk about fandom#she'd love it#like omegaverse is up there in the convo list#run down instead of pillow talk#please i need her
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Fuck it, We Ball
By Aester R Holly
Hardships and trials--
Temptations and tribulations!
Lord, you give me all,
Of which I can handle--
Of which I can stomach;
But here I stand,
Drenched in sweat and tears,
Shaking, rattling
From hunger and desperation.
I say to you, Father,
"What if I have no more balls?"
#original poem#original writing#poetry#poem#writing#brain rot#just a bit#just the concept#it started as a joke#bc humor meet coping mechanism#but i mean#I've balled so much the bucket ain't full no more#and im gettin close#fuck it we ball
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Years Left Unpromised
by Aester R Holly
How can I plan without promise?
What should I envision in the mirage
Of life laid before me;
A life I was never guaranteed.
“Oh He is coming soon
This world will be over at noon.”
So say the greying men at pulpits,
who gain wives
And lived lives
That soon come to a natural end.
They are satisfied.
They are open to a second coming;
for it is better to be taken
Than to wait for death.
They are able to state
A proclamation of completion.
But what of us?
We, the youth, but lived an instant.
How can we blindly accept
That final statement?
What if he never breaths his first breath
to blow out his first candle?
What if they never learn the alphabet
to write their own names?
What if she never falls in love
to have her first kiss?
What if you never get a job
to buy your first car?
What if I never graduate?
In these years left unpromised,
What if I never graduate?
#original poem#original writing#poem#poetry#writing#existential crisis#christianity#second coming#i dont fucking know#how can i live laugh love in these conditions#It horrible but-#I don't know anymore#Should we as christians be so willing to accept the destruction of this world?#Am I wrong to feel this?#Maybe it's just the sin#idk at this point#all i'm saying#is that these some much beauty in this sinful world#that i'm not ready to let it go in all honesty#I want to experience a life before i'm gone#Just a small life#Nothing too big#I want to wear a cap and gown for once in my life#I want purpose#like they have it#the men who are happy to be taken from a world they lost hope in#those bitter men who don't know that all this suffering is a part of life#I'm okay with suffering just to have hope that I can wake up in the morning and know that I'm human#am I a bad christian for wanting this?#Are we bad children by asking for more?
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My parents raises us(me + siblings) pretty leniently but they never let us watch SpongeBob
That's how I know they really cared for us
#parents#not allowed to watch SpongeBob#thankful#thank the lord#gen x parents#i dont want to say they were neglectful... but I have a few stories about them making us independent children#it made us feral children#i knew how to make my own lunch by first grade#started cooking on my own by 2nd#it also formed my religious views which was pretty cool#what i'm saying is#my parents weren't passionate about having children so they treated us like adults
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Frog in the Hot Spring
By Aester R Holly
In my little enclosure, I laze in the mist;
My sun artificial,
My waterfall an installment.
This is my place, quiet and moist,
Healing me inside out.
The water descends in heavy beads;
It hits my skin.
Now, I am becoming pink.
The steam envelopes me
And I am content.
My body lays crumpled, loafing,
As I croak into linoleum stones
Of limescale gray.
With tired eyes, I blink slowly.
I’m sleepy and clean now.
I wish to sleep here, forget the world,
For this is my hot spring of earthy fragrance
And I am just a little frog.
#original poem#original writing#poem#poetry#writing#frog#its me im the frog#i recommend becoming a frog in hot springs#helps when im have sinus issues#sickness#remedies
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Who are you?
By Aester R Holly
Who are you
That stares back at me
With a face I never knew?
Who are you?
Name, ne’er touched by bee,
But one I’m bound to?
That far stranger who
For you are me.
Is it true?
Are you the hu-
Man that I startle to see,
Looking back. You-
Oh, how blue.
For I have forgotten me
In others’ hue.
At least, you are who
I now remember to see
When I look at you-
But wait, who?
#original writing#original poem#poetry#poem#villanelle#a word i can barely say#identity crisis#yknow#like the song#this is proof my writing skills exist outside of brainrot#still is funny tho#laughed at the oo ee oo stuff#enjoy
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Degradation of Man
By Aester R Holly
We come out the womb Mewing
As cats to a starving world.
Expecting us to keep Maxxing,
They think not of what they’ve hurled.
Who is this in our Opposition?
They are men who see their Kingdoms
In our eyes of adoration;
They are men who steal our freedoms
Under the guise of restoration.
We fall away into the Skibidi drone
With eyes forever glued
To our newest iphone.
Wake up!
Do not sleep!
We mustn’t lose our Edging streak
Against the raving roosters of rage.
We must defy all that is Beta
And fight for a living wage.
We shall not stand for piling graves
Of children ranging under six.
It is not our place to be Delulu slaves
to growing injustice. Ick!
May we stand full
For we have ate
All that one could stomach,
Leaving no crumbs left of hate.
#poem#poetry#original writing#original poem#brainrot terms#brain rot#i said there'd be Skibidi and there is Skibidi#don't expect more#might do a third#but we'll see#bone apple teeth#im so so so sorry#my friend called it 'Karl Maxxing'#did anyone tell shakespeare to put down his pen?
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