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2 CorinthiansIf I speak in human and angelic tongues but do not have love, I am a resounding gong or a clashing cymbal.
If I speak in foreign and local tongues but do not have love, I am an emitting radio or a static television.
And if I have the gift of prophecy and comprehend all mysteries and all knowledge; if I have all faith so as to move mountains but do not have love, I am nothing.
And if I have the job of protection and loyalty of all body and of all knowledge; if I have all honesty so as to stand through trails but do not have love, I am meaningless.
If I give away everything I own, and if I hand my body over so that I may boast but do not have love, I gain nothing.
If I give all that I have, and if I give what rightfully is mine so that I have but an empty shell but do not have love, I win nothing
Love is patient, love is kind. It is not jealous, (love) is not pompous, it is not inflated,
Love is fiery, love is wild. It is not tranquil, it is not presumptuous,
66. TrapI, take you, for my lawful wife,
Are these those famous last words
That I have heard?
To have and to hold,
Does this bond us togehter
With a solid ball and chain?
From this day forward,
Is it truely forever and ever
or can we be parted?
For better, for worse,
Why is it always we must
be together in worse?
For richer, for poorer,
Can we withhold the idea
and never be poorer?
In sickness and in health,
Is it true we are in this when ill
am I expected to take care of you?
Until death do us part.
That is like forever,
What God has joined, men must not divide
Take this ring as a sign of my love and fidelity.
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
65. HorrorIt is a dark night,
It is a long road,
But the temptation of home
and a long deserved warm meal.
He is a traveler
He is a nomad
But something drives him
and she is a true love.
The journey is vast
The weather is torture
But the wind's at his back
and he travels lightly.
But the night is young
and there are miles to go.
He never makes it home
And she dies a widow.
64. MultitaskingCellular and mobile devices
Laptops, desktops, web books
iPods, Mp3's, and digital radios
In this world all Medias are fair game
And make multi tasking as easy as it once was
To find a horse and carriage.
One FamilyQuiet in our thoughts
Laughter is not far behind
Somber in our stature
Dancing is not too concealed
Tragic with our losses
Mourning will vanish in the morrow
Lost with our pain
Rejoicing will return to us
For even in death
We are united
Broken RecordInsanity is doing something with a lack of reason
A deranged state of mind; everything's an illusion
Doing it over again, expecting a different end
Almost like a broken record that you're trying to mend
You set the needle back, hoping for a tune
But only vast, empty silence fills the room
They say the broken record would never be fixed
But still the insanity continues, leaving you transfixed
A different result you expect, from setting the needle back again
But never did it hit you that the attempt was vain
Endless trying, never succeeding
Perhaps it was just the insanity speaking...
CancerI remember the time that you touched the stars
Stark white, skin-tight; they hit you too hard
With a splintered cry, falling from sulfurous Mars
And the Fates ran screaming back into the dark
I remember the sound
The thrum and the pound
I remember the morning you woke in blood
When the lies in your eyes were unbearably rough
And the marks of the hypocrite far from enough
'Til you wept as Moses e'er fires and flood
I remember your song
You thought you were strong
I remember much further than Man ever dreams
You forced out your flesh, and I wept at the screams
The soul and the sorrow to memory clings
A light in the night, like Insanity, beams
I'll remember your cry
'Til the day I, too, die
Different is GoodWhy do people seem to think
That its good to fit in?
That being different is evil
That not conforming is a sin
All people that conform
They are sheep, you can't trust them
But one who dares to be themselves
Now there's a hidden gem
Just think of who you'll meet
When you decide to just be you
So many fascinating people
And friends who love you true
Those who have a dream
Or a passion, or an art
They bravely face their fears
And can truly touch your heart
If you just be yourself
And love to live and learn
That is truly beautiful
And you help the world turn
Being different is good
Despite what people say
I'm different and I like it
It's easier that way
The fence in my yardThere’s a fence in my yard
My father taught me to build
With a gate in the front
And a back strong-willed
Where the inside and outside
Love and hate of the world collides
Just like my face
It has two sides
One of welcome and safe inclusion
One of absolute defiant seclusion
Both built to last paid with sweat
Nails driven with pounding regret
But isolation has left this yard alone
The laughter of my children echo no more
Because as they all matured
They walked out the door
StoriesWhen you walk by
and see someone,
do you ever wonder
about the story behind that person?
What put them on the road
to where they are now in life?
How did they gain their fame and glory
or why are they filled with pain and strife?
That homeless man
lying there in the street
may have at one point
served in our naval fleet.
When he came home,
his wife had divorced him
and that is the very thing
that completely destroyed him.
Then there's that secretary
who's flirty boss is her pet peeve,
and you may wonder
why she doesn't just leave.
Her family is poor.
They need the money.
So she is stuck with that job
and her boss's promiscuity.
Of course there's that boy
who sat in the corner
and the girl who spoke to him
despite what they told her.
Many years later,
they are happily married
and have two kids
named Robert and Sherry.
Every person you see
has a story to tell
about how they reached heaven
or how they're damned to hell.
So the next time someone
talks about their life,
63. Do Not DisturbProprium humani ingenii est odisse quem laeseris -
For we the wrong forget to admit our wrongs;
Failure for us to forgive the ones we have hurt.
I who hurt those around me, wish to how to forgive.
Perfer et obdura; dolor hic tibi proderit olim-
There are only so many layers of epidermis one slice is all it takes;
It opens up the wonderful life that makes me a worse person.
I who feel pain now wish to grow to no longer see pain as an outlet
Volpi.You will find that the story you tell
is very rarely your own. In Lucca,
even the smallest pebbles
breathe in the warm sunlight.
Knotted stones and cobbled roads
beat out a paper-dry heartbeat heat
my city breathes in and out,
inhales sparrow air.
It's writing a story.
You are the pen.
You will find that in Lucca
the daisy chains forge fire
in side streets and back alleys.
Teenagers intertwine. Tell me,
odd flower, are you still closed?
Here we are colored wax;
the heat of the city melts us.
We run into each other, rhapsody
of pigments. Operas are our specialties.
Open up; feel the reds.
If not, try and see them. There is a place
of deep knife marks, a street
long as midnight
you may learn something there.
Valentina's voice glimmers like red wine.
You may enjoy intoxications. Still,
know alcohol has no story
and will swallow your own.
Find the sign with the wolf on it.
You'll know the place. Epiphanies ring true as church-bells.
Lucca still guides the wanderers
to well sp
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