21
" I did it the hard way ( a poem)
_________________________
Many of the big dreams I dreamt,
I dreamt, when I met a failed attempt.
Life taught me to believe that
Great ideas can start from a wretched hut.
Many of the strongest steps I took,
I took, when I was given the fiercest look.
My passion pokes me to understand
That people’s mockeries, I can withstand.
Many of the fastest speeds I gained,
I gained when I was bitterly stained.
I first thought the only way was to quit
As I tried again, I no longer have guilt.
Many of the bravest decisions I made,
I made, when my life was about to fade.
I was frustrated and ripe to sink.
But then I strive to release the ink.
Many of the longest journeys I started,
I started, having no resource; money parted
I relied on God my creator all dawn long
And at dusk He gave me a new song.
Many of the hardest questions I tackled,
I tackled, when I was heckled.
They were very troublesome to settle
But I make it happen little by little
Yet, it was not I, but the Lord Jesus
The saviour who gives me success.
In Him, through Him and by Him
I have the liberty to do everything with vim.
I don’t want to enjoy this liberty alone.
You too must step out of your comfort zone.
It’s not easy, but you can do it anyway.
Jesus is the life, the truth and the way.
___________________________
Israelmore Ayivor "
― Israelmore Ayivor , Become a Better You
29
" Here’s what happens when a single mom meets New York City’s hottest fireman…
“Then…seductively…as if he received instruction not from the FDNY’s training school but at Chippendale’s…he slowly inches each suspender off his bare shoulders.”
“You must know that exhilarating feeling of a man’s body on top of yours, all that power and muscle pressing you into the bed, the glorious taste of his tongue in your mouth, the manly scent that washes over you and makes you want to melt underneath him.”
“Let’s not forget about his nine inches of shapely fireman hose dangling so close in front of my face the scent launches me into a blissful fever.”
“Every place he touches contradicts his chosen profession, because instead of putting out a fire he surely starts one.”
“I’m so darn helpless in the arms of this powerful, young, ripped personification of New York’s Bravest that I feel myself about to erupt in the most earth shattering explosion since Mount Vesuvius last announced her presence.”
“I wonder if he could be enticed to show us a few maneuvers on the brass pole.”
“He orchestrates his own personal opera, inspiring high notes with kisses and licks along my elongated nipples, and deep moans with hands that caress my belly.”
“We are drawn uncontrollably to each other and have no power to resist, only the tremendous desire to experience everything in its most intense form. "
― Isabella Johns , My Hot Fireman (My Hot, #1)
37
" Exoneration of Jesus Christ If Christ was in fact God, he knew all the future.
Before Him like a panorama moved the history yet to be. He knew how his words would be interpreted.
He knew what crimes, what horrors, what infamies, would be committed in his name. He knew that the hungry flames of persecution would climb around the limbs of countless martyrs. He knew that thousands and thousands of brave men and women would languish in dungeons in darkness, filled with pain.
He knew that his church would invent and use instruments of torture; that his followers would appeal to whip and fagot, to chain and rack. He saw the horizon of the future lurid with the flames of the auto da fe.
He knew what creeds would spring like poisonous fungi from every text. He saw the ignorant sects waging war against each other.
He saw thousands of men, under the orders of priests, building prisons for their fellow-men. He saw thousands of scaffolds dripping with the best and bravest blood. He saw his followers using the instruments of pain. He heard the groans—saw the faces white with agony.
He heard the shrieks and sobs and cries of all the moaning, martyred multitudes. He knew that commentaries would be written on his words with swords, to be read by the light of fagots. He knew that the Inquisition would be born of the teachings attributed to him. He saw the interpolations and falsehoods that hypocrisy would write and tell. He saw all wars that would be waged, and-he knew that above these fields of death, these dungeons, these rackings, these burnings, these executions, for a thousand years would float the dripping banner of the cross.
He knew that hypocrisy would be robed and crowned—that cruelty and credulity would rule the world; knew that liberty would perish from the earth; knew that popes and kings in his name would enslave the souls and bodies of men; knew that they would persecute and destroy the discoverers, thinkers and inventors; knew that his church would extinguish reason’s holy light and leave the world without a star.
He saw his disciples extinguishing the eyes of men, flaying them alive, cutting out their tongues, searching for all the nerves of pain.
He knew that in his name his followers would trade in human flesh; that cradles would be robbed and women’s breasts unbabed for gold.
And yet he died with voiceless lips.
Why did he fail to speak? Why did he not tell his disciples, and through them the world: “You shall not burn, imprison and torture in my name. You shall not persecute your fellow-men.”
Why did he not plainly say: “I am the Son of God,” or, “I am God”? Why did he not explain the Trinity? Why did he not tell the mode of baptism that was pleasing to him? Why did he not write a creed? Why did he not break the chains of slaves? Why did he not say that the Old Testament was or was not the inspired word of God? Why did he not write the New Testament himself?
Why did he leave his words to ignorance, hypocrisy and chance? Why did he not say something positive, definite and satisfactory about another world? Why did he not turn the tear-stained hope of heaven into the glad knowledge of another life? Why did he not tell us something of the rights of man, of the liberty of hand and brain?
Why did he go dumbly to his death, leaving the world to misery and to doubt?
I will tell you why. He was a man, and did not know. "
― Robert G. Ingersoll