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John Freeman Poem
Christian Love frame
The only need for death to every exist
Was to slay the fictional self
And all the embellishments used to support it
Fear not, Love’s little flock
You will not be set to fly
And then be allowed to fall
To be strong in your Love
Is to inherit the power of God
That now lies dormant in your essence
For your possession of absolute truth
Is a point at which your Love and your reality
Both become one in God
Slaying your fictional self, being honorable
Is your first step toward your recovery
Of your conscious immortality
For what is sin but the force and mischief
Used to instill and empower
Your mentally invented lower realities
Withholding forgiveness
Is the ego’s assault against life
Love does not judge
For what is the mercy of Love
But that it repeats it’s lessons of life
Until they are learn by the mind
For Love already knows,
What life is yet to learn
Therefore learn from who you are
And teach your outer self
Love’s absolute truth
Love is your true reality, a constant source
Has no beginning or no end
The unlimited potential, quite essential
My prayer for 2010 is that;
These proceeding sayings
Become obsolete this year
In the face of your Love itself, Smile!
Stay in your Bibles, my little bibles
For Love is your title
Not your mind of idol!!
1-2-10 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com
Copyright © John Freeman | Year Posted 2010
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John Freeman Poem
At center of soul,
Lien my wealth of gold,
In the bible,
You’re very well liable,
To see gold,
In centerfold,
Of soul,
Not in centerfold ,
Of playboy, so bold,
Not in scorn of porn, magazine,
The mind thinks so keen,
Not in your house of ill repute,
Like a flute’s toot,
But in your center,
Is Godly splendor,
She is the real contender,
For men’s souls,
She holds the gold, of souls,
She is your centerfold,
She is your well, and you can tell,
When she begins to swell,
Infinity’s well,
She begins to spin,
And begins to gin,
The gold of soul’s,
Centerfold,
A vortex of power,
Men will declare,
How can this be,
Mein eyes can’t see,
This within me,
So they return to be,
Of mind’s vanity,
As death’s reverse swirl,
Returns them to the world,
Like a natural woman in earth,
Her wealth is her girth,
Not of this earth,
A birth from above,
She is love,
Receive,
Believe,
Within your relieve,
She is your power,
By which you build your tower,
By the hour,
In earth,
Love is her girth,
Not of this earth,
So let her love give birth,
In earth,
Particles of pure light,
Your lady is a holy sight,
Not a cat's fight,
In repute’s night,
She is your mold,
For your life’s unfold,
Unfold, your gold,
Let the outer unfold,
Be the center mold,
Of the Godly Gold!!
7-17-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com
Copyright © John Freeman | Year Posted 2009
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John Freeman Poem
Mother nature’s songs I cannot exceed
Of the Whippoorwill out in open field
They partake of mother’s bliss free of greed
Birds and their songs give of mother’s free will
Meadowlark songs of many are preferred
Though Scissortail flycatchers slice thin air
I favor Mocking bird of which I’ve heard
He sings all bird songs, I desire to sire
Mocking bird songs do surge with bird’s great urge
Whip-her-Will, he sings at night on the hill
Of Mocking bird songs , be of which I splurge
Awesome flight as dotted blades of windmill
Nature, birds and songs to springtime belongs
Nature’s spring refreshes men with bird songs
First Contest: Sonnet Me
In honor of: Sara Kendrick
#1) abab, cdcd, efef, gg
Copyright © John Freeman | Year Posted 2011
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John Freeman Poem
A dream
To hear the whippoorwills' sad urgent call
I was very glad when I was a lad
But now twilight nearing new season's fall
My Essence of truth my consciousness calls
My tears being not of my former years
For sake of humans I now turn my cares
As compassion of true identity
From sacred place calls from infinity
Within unlimited aspects' of me
A great white throne in the distance I see
Around sacred bend a familiar friend
Silhouette of me as my God I see
No more desirous of earth's vain glory
The mind's wilderness of exploratory
History recedes illusions of me
My ego thoughts I just had to be
Totality of Love I see as me
Enter into God's synchronicity
I now see my God as I now see me
As sacredness of the reality
As Sacredness calls a new season's fall
Recesses the former whippoorwills' call
As new life calls I now realize it all
New life is in the Sacred Season's Fall
Mystified as I liquefied I cry
As in spirit of love quite high I fly
Above consequences life's densities
As spiritual tears replace human fears
1-12-10
Copyright © John Freeman | Year Posted 2010
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John Freeman Poem
My pearl of great price,
Will not be a sacrifice,
The love of my life,
My sacred wife,
Her named is Pearl,
She will have nothing to do with Earl,
Of the carnal world,
For she is strictly, My Pearl!
She is my wife ,
The wife of my life,
I married her when I divorced my youthful wife,
Of my mind’s strife!
She is the wife of my old age,
She has let my soul out of mind’s cage,
I didn’t meet her in my tender age,
I was not ready to hear her page!
When you personally find,
One of this kind,
A pearl of great price,
Pursue her for your wife,
By giving up your mind’s strife!
For she will not mate,
With an ego's persona of hate,
Neither will you enter into her narrow gate!
She is preserved,
For love, that deserves,
A husband named Freddy,
A soul in love that is ready,
So sweep your floor,
And weep no more,
Your pearl will open her door,
When she is totally shore,
You’re not looking back,
Toward the sack,
Of the mind’s scarlet,
Harlot!
Personally, I’ll do my part,
From my heart,
From the inner world,
Of my pearl,
For she is my Girl!
For the outer girl,
Of the world,
Is no pearl,
For she is a pigeon pouter,
Of the outer,
And thinks she is stouter,
In the outer,
World with Earl!
While the pearl of great price,
Has no vice
And she is meek,
But certainly not weak,
Very able to keep,
The soul of her man,
Within God’s plan!
Pearl’s inner meekness,
Does not mean weakness,
For it is the band,
without which a man,
Would not have substance of love,
From above!
Now when the mind learns to be meek,
Within his soul, he will seek,
Pearl's,
Inner world!
Time will,
Stand still,
Inside Pearl's real,
Deal,
And love will be fulfilled,
Within my Pearl’s inner world!
4-27-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com
Copyright © John Freeman | Year Posted 2009
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John Freeman Poem
Love substance seems to be twain
by the natural human brain
and will always remain the same
as thinking remains on a natural plane
When human concepts we clip
beginning to touch angel wing tips
arising from lies, earthly disguise
realizing demise, as an angel wing flies
Agape returns, precept we learn
we’ll know what we’ve missed
by heavenly love we’ll be kissed
we’ll know as we’re known,
for by love we’ll be honed
All life is love in action
diminished in earth by human faction
perfection by heaven, loves action
diminishes human plane diffraction
Copyright © John Freeman | Year Posted 2012
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John Freeman Poem
Mother' has no nature,
T’s mind’s illusion,
Brings to that conclusion,
T’was God' who made the worlds,
And saves from perils,
Also the vast expanse,
T’was not by chance,
By great explosion'
Was God’s exposing,
His inner self, to some degree,
That all could see,
What nature' Love be,
The Tower' of power,
The great bang'
Scientist claim,
Brought our world to fame,
Power of God’s great quality,
Brought forth this great quantity,
Love is the nature of it all,
Because of God’s call,
It doth not fall,
By love’s intention,
God’s invention,
Of spinning intention,
Black holes'
Are only God’s goals,
They only remold,
When forms grow old,
And finish their intention,
Of love’s invention,
Recycling the universe,
Getting ready, for re-disperse,
Re-forming new forms,
No cause to be alarm,
Great consciousness' the- God-of bliss,
Keeps up--with-all-of -this,
Some call, great cosmic mind,
Doth keep aligned,
The worlds are fine,
The great cosmic mind’s,
Nature love, is fine,
Keeping all aligned,
And purely refined,
Mother is in line,
Till end of time,
Love's gold' Life cycled,
Doth never grow old,
Re-cycle, Re-mold'
Love' God's Gold!!
9-18-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com
Copyright © John Freeman | Year Posted 2009
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John Freeman Poem
A Spiritual Narrative
Love Is to be, or not to be, you see
The soul’s choice to be , is made freely
Love , the source, of course, of which souls partake
To be love, from above
You were created to be, not, not to be
Your being is precious, of one piece, will not cease
Please run in this race, keeping the pace
There is one in all, therein is gall
Best of all, there is no fall
One not mature, Oh dear, hath fear
Maturity excluded, love is eluded
Ah, but Love’s grace intervene, and I shall wean
From mother’s milk, to father’s meat,
Meanwhile, Love’s grace, shall take the heat
With my serpent mind beat, I shall retreat
Into whence I came, I’ll return again
Back into my sacred heart, is from where I start
To re connect, above, with love
And with my mind seeing, my being
The soul, I have made my goal
My soul recognizes it’s home, no more need to roam
For the mind illusion, was only outer intrusion,
Of a mind of fleshly strife, trying to create a life
Twas only a dilemma, of the mind, in structured time
In the temporal line, an immortal
Out of it’s portal, become mortal
Without it's connection, of love’s direction
But upon careful inspection, in love’s direction
The narrow way, comes into play
Though few there be that find, for eye of the mind,
Is so very blind, a need of love to be re-align
To a sign, of truth, the mind aloof, will always goof
A soul that has found it’s heart, has found it’s start
So very smart, Love’s booth is it’s cart
Once found from, will never again depart
For I am love, as a dove, spewed within from above
The dove above, is my Father Love,
And I am being of plenty, for I am Love’s entity!!!
johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com
Copyright © John Freeman | Year Posted 2009
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John Freeman Poem
Free verse Rhyme
Never fearing.. as love is nearing
Love's consciousness force... completes it’s divorce...(Jer. 3:8) Metaphorically Love divorces
From the mind of strife... that cuts as a knife mind's strife, or wickedness.
Resurrects our life... from sacrifice
As Cosmic’s love... has constant net.........................................(Malachi 3:6)(Hebrews 13:8)
Let not..the little hearts fret
Comes... as humanity’s mind sets
As the Cosmos....to humanity lets
As the mind of scarcity... the wealthy loses disparity
A new mind set...within the poor will let..
In... the life of the lamb’s net
A new logic... in earth will be set
A new diverse, of unlimited disperse
As constant Love..begins it’s gov.
The mind of Christ...from sacrifice
Will dispense with vice...with universe disperse
Meet your maker..not a soul breaker, Love's higher fate
As humanity levitates..to the higher state
Love’s consciousness brings..new responsiveness
Two thousand twelve..well..new light..flies a new kite
As the winter of flight..brings a new might
In a Godly project..`T is by a new logic
All will come into view..with a golden hue
For God is not new..He’s the love that’s in you!!!
Note: Iam not talking about the so called physical rapture,
but an enlightment of human consciousness, by love's
higher logic!
11-13-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com
Copyright © John Freeman | Year Posted 2009
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John Freeman Poem
The old man had always had an unnatural fondness
for the animal but could never seem to bond with human easily,
with the exception of a special, dear grandmother. His mind
wandered back to his childhood, the Christmas eve of 1958 about
a special chore that he was required to do of his parents…….
“Being”
To be or not to be
One two three,
Five more to go…
The eight year old counted the puppies his female Border collie
had given birth to only three days earlier. The words of his parents
echoed in his ears, “We can’t have so many dogs around the house,
we can’t feed them all. You will have to dispose of them,
she is your dog, your responsibility.” The lad wiped the tears from
his eyes, as he prepared reluctantly to smash another head against
a large stone which he had selected. “Smash!” not a whimper.
He had become proficient at this chore.
“Being”
To be or not to be
One two three four,
four more to go.
The remaining puppies snuggled together for warmth in the cold
December breeze. I can’t do this his conscience screamed as his
young mind reasoned, “You have to, mom said, and dad will be home
in the evening. You will get a licking such as you have never gotten before.” “Smash!” not a whimper. The blood trickled down his finger tips.
“Being”
To be or not to be,
One, two, three, four, five,
Three more to go, He looked at the huge stone, “The killing stone” he
thought as he prepared to finish all three of the remaining puppies
in one swift moment if possible. “Smash! Smash! Smash!” It was over
he gave a sigh of relief as he gathered the tiny, still bodies into a small
shoe box that was to be the coffin of burial. He quickly buried the box
with the puppies’ corpses inside. He knew this was one chore on Christmas
eve day that would haunt him for many days perhaps years to come.
In Honor of Carol Brown
And Contest
Copyright © John Freeman | Year Posted 2011
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