Monthly Archives: March 2013

Carmine Wall

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photo

Today I paint my entrance red.
I step back and I tilt my head.
“Isn’t it symbolic,” I said
“Considering Him who once was dead
On this respective Friday?”

It reminds me of blood He sweat,
How flesh was torn and His soul wept,
How feet and hands were nailed outstretched,
Of the spear that entered ‘neath His chest
As He gave His heart away.

Carmine Wall, help me ne’er forget
There’s One who died in my own stead,
Who came to take away my debt,
The Passover Lamb, the Broken Bread,
Who conquered Death by Sunday.

By Keely Myles
Good Friday
March 29, 2013

1 John 2:2~
“He is the propitiation for our sins,
and not only for ours
but also for the sins
of the whole world.”

Burnt Toast

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My grandma taught me not to
waste.
She was thrifty and
ahead of the reduce, reuse, recycle
game.
When toast popped up crisp and
black,
she never threw it in the
trash.
Instead she scraped off the
ash,
moving with such
haste.
Scraping, scratching, scratching, scraping, scraping, scratching, scritch!
And somewhere in the middle,
there was a piece, somewhat
unscathed,
which she quickly
pasted
with un-melting butter and
glazed
with plum jam.
She put it on a flowered
plate.
Then i ate it, and,
strange
to say, it did
taste
rather okay.
So now i’ve come to wondering,
are people like burnt toast?
The ones who seem so
unsavory,
the ones you just can’t stand, you just can’t
take.
Were they just so
charred
by circumstances;
incinerated
in life’s hot spots?
Maybe they couldn’t take the heat, and couldn’t
escape
the kitchen? They were
trapped
in a hot-boxed environment.
Perhaps, if we took the time to
scrape
off a few layers, and add some flavors,
they might be okay, somewhat easier to swallow?
The question is, should i try to put the butter knife
blade
to someone’s open
face?
I mean, isn’t it true that no-one is beyond
grace?
And after all, it is a shame to
waste.

By Keely Myles
March 25, 2013

“As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.” ~Proverbs 27:17

Rhetorical Devices

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 Hidden behind a pen was me
 I couldn’t return to reality
 For off I ran with Hyperbole
 But we tripped and fell in the Syntax Sea
 I swam          and swam
        and swam          and swam
 Until Climax came and built a dam
 Upon which I sat for a day
 And had a ball playing with Cliché
 Along came dear, Alliteration
 A fellow who I fought with frank frustration
 Fitfully fumbling until I fell
 On Assonance who I dare tell
 Soothed the bruise while boosting my mood
 And introduced me to quite the hoot
 Onomatopoeia stood and crooned
 Hummed, guffawed and in a poof was gone
 And I realized I was alone all along
 So in the end I learned how nice it is
 To be left to my own Devices

By Keely Myles
 March 24, 2013

she lived

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she said she was

thankful

that she could write

a novel

she could have wrote the book on that

if time

had given her the chance

but she was

busy

with a hundred

babies

so instead

she lived

a life that

words

could not

sum up

keely myles

march 21, 2013

Soul Punch

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A jealous thought rips a little hole
Draining goodness, sweetness out of
The soul

Punching, punching jagged bits
Paring you down to a perforated,
Selfish pith

The envious heart is a sieve that strains
Until churlish grudges and spite
Remain

So notice punctures when they start
Use a thankful patch, pump up a
Selfless heart

By Keely Myles
March 22, 2013

“A tranquil heart gives life to the flesh, but envy makes the bones rot.” ~Proverbs 14:30