Blank Space #TaylorDateTony

* Jesus pray for me
* Dedicated to #TaylorDateTony

+-----Blank Space

Taylor what is the primordial
language of love
that God speaks to themselves,
the effervescing desire for romance
over baneful waves rippling
in nothingness? I wish to talk like this
to you, passionate heart palpitations
in a lover’s void, my spirited
breathing a divine wind moving over
the face of waters of longing.
A kiss from your lips
would be a thunderous utterance
of universal harmony declaring
"let there be light" in my lonely
inchoate dark. Joy illuminating gloom.
I try to imagine you
dating me, us clasping hands
over coffee. This would be
the inception of our earth bound forms,
skin touching skin,
the creation of a couple from
deep yearning ex nihilo. I swear,
the aroma of a café would
be the impetus for us to fill
Heaven and Earth, disregarding risk,
the bonds of a trinity that does not die.

----Genesis 1:1-3
In the beginning God created the heaven and the earth.
And the earth was without form, and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let there be light: and there was light

Power

* Jesus pray for me
* Saint Luke pray for me

+-----Power; The Thoughts Of The Centurion Before Seeking Jesus 

Despite clout and influence,
I know societal futility of the pagan.
I know the weakness of a patented thrust
in enemy lands, jab of my dagger
into a belly, the inanity of the fierce swing
of a short sword that lacerates barbarian
arms for conquest.
For there is a sickness military prowess and
money cant cure, that the most
lionized Rabbi in the most decorous Synagogue
ever built cant pronounce. When I peer
at the blurred moon, tears of helplessness
streaming from a soul crushed, I know
Caesar cant and doesnt care; his conscience
choked from ash diffused by the Empire's
stone heart.
You are the only one who can help.
Im the centurion with the dying friend...just
speak the word no one else knows how to say
and my servant will be healed:
Love.

---Luke 7:1-10
When Jesus had finished saying all this to the people who were listening, he entered Capernaum. There a centurion’s servant, whom his master valued highly, was sick and about to die. The centurion heard of Jesus and sent some elders of the Jews to him, asking him to come and heal his servant. When they came to Jesus, they pleaded earnestly with him, “This man deserves to have you do this, because he loves our nation and has built our synagogue.” So Jesus went with them. He was not far from the house when the centurion sent friends to say to him: “Lord, don’t trouble yourself, for I do not deserve to have you come under my roof. That is why I did not even consider myself worthy to come to you. But say the word, and my servant will be healed. For I myself am a man under authority, with soldiers under me. I tell this one, ‘Go,’ and he goes; and that one, ‘Come,’ and he comes. I say to my servant, ‘Do this,’ and he does it.” When Jesus heard this, he was amazed at him, and turning to the crowd following him, he said, “I tell you, I have not found such great faith even in Israel.” Then the men who had been sent returned to the house and found the servant well.

Your Centurion Of Love #TaylorDateTony

* Jesus pray for me
* Saint Luke, pray for me
* dedicated to #TaylorDateTony
* dedicated to Joyce Manor, Falling In Love Again
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LMjbnouU9J4


+-----Your Centurion Of Love

Taylor my heart is near its death,
frail servant of dating,
please don’t let the foreboding
loneliness its stricken with prevail.
I picture you on the roads of Capernaum
somewhere, statuesque and flanked
by fawning crowds,
your blue eyes out saving the
world, your intentions pure, borne
of virgin Feminine Ideals. The trails
of dust in the wake of your sandals
are truly blessed, paths of the harmoniously
divine you tread. And I love our nation,
love singing your songs on Google
Play, my loyalty is
a grandiose synagogue of soul
built it in your honor, a
place for love to dwell in of
intricate design.  Oh baby I beseech
you to drink coffee with me! the aroma
from your cup would be balm
to me and listening to the melodious
intonations of your speech wholeness.
But trouble not yourself to sojourn
to the far ends of Maryland to
respond, for I am not worthy that
you should enter under my roof. The
shabby couches are sullied with too
much sin filth, ragged kitchen counters
with guilty consciences,
heaps of dirty clothes screaming of
licentiousness. My bathroom sink is
like a hundred soldiers garishly scarred from
mold battles, awaiting my command. Anyway,
wherever you are, ensconced in celestial clouds
I presume, just say yes. Just say the word,
the Starbucks café we can meet,
and my servant shall be healed.


----Luke 7:1-10
Now when he had ended all his sayings in the audience of the people, he entered into Capernaum. And a certain centurion's servant, who was dear unto him, was sick, and ready to die. And when he heard of Jesus, he sent unto him the elders of the Jews, beseeching him that he would come and heal his servant. And when they came to Jesus, they besought him instantly, saying, That he was worthy for whom he should do this: For he loveth our nation, and he hath built us a synagogue. Then Jesus went with them. And when he was now not far from the house, the centurion sent friends to him, saying unto him, Lord, trouble not thyself: for I am not worthy that thou shouldest enter under my roof: Wherefore neither thought I myself worthy to come unto thee: but say in a word, and my servant shall be healed. For I also am a man set under authority, having under me soldiers, and I say unto one, Go, and he goeth; and to another, Come, and he cometh; and to my servant, Do this, and he doeth it. When Jesus heard these things, he marvelled at him, and turned him about, and said unto the people that followed him, I say unto you, I have not found so great faith, no, not in Israel.
And they that were sent, returning to the house, found the servant whole that had been sick.


----Falling In Love Again Lyrics
Thanks for showing me
Around last night
Hope you don't think I don't care
Because I do I just don't know if
I should feel this bad about you
After finishing your birthday drugs
Look at a yearbook unprepared
And betray yourself to sleep it off.
Then come down to collect it

I think you're funny
I like your friends
I like the way they treat you

I've got some money
That we could spend
Not that you're like that

I'm falling in love again

Church Of Sardis Church Of America #EMORevelations Chapter 3

* Jesus pray for me
* Saint John pray

+-----Emo Revelations Chapter 3: Church Of Sardis, Church Of America; The [2015] Vision Of Saint John On Patmos 

A rushing hollow wind
of seven spirits and seven stars
passes through
an empty Nave. It ushers in a chorus
of pious echoes from past memory
rising from its grave desecrating its own
damned epitaph,
raging revisionist history conjured from
revivalist idealism, the purposeful
layering of redemptive dirt on shattered
stone over a mausoleum of hope
forever lost. In it, I hear the swirling
of melodic breathing as hymns, ear relics
of erstwhile spiritual vortices of vitality
reaching out to the flesh and blood that
remain through a harmonious chant-“Strengthen
what remains and is about to die…”
I see dead men, not disciples,
sauntering into the sanctuary
for pews, swaying to organs of cultural
trending as if still alive, unaware of
the nothingness in their souls of sin
metastasizing. The presbyters
grin beside their altars in the chancel,
blinded to bland inauthenticity from the
pulpit, blithe and indifferent to their
congregation’s lack of godliness.
Without repentance I see once decorous
windows stained anew in decay,
a cupola rotted and inverted, and copious
ash accumulating in baptismal fonts, the
black smoke of youths lost rising
into a noon sky blackened. America, wake up!
The thief of surreptitious unbelief strikes!
Don robes of holiness,
of times you used to pray victoriously
clothed in alabaster. In the time remaining, walk
reverently alongside your God in white to stave off
searing and unquenchable fire-
the approaching apocalypse for the unfaithful
already appointed.



---Revelation 3:1-6
“To the angel of the church in Sardis write:
These are the words of him who holds the seven spirits of God and the seven stars. I know your deeds; you have a reputation of being alive, but you are dead. Wake up! Strengthen what remains and is about to die, for I have found your deeds unfinished in the sight of my God. Remember, therefore, what you have received and heard; hold it fast, and repent. But if you do not wake up, I will come like a thief, and you will not know at what time I will come to you. Yet you have a few people in Sardis who have not soiled their clothes. They will walk with me, dressed in white, for they are worthy. The one who is victorious will, like them, be dressed in white. I will never blot out the name of that person from the book of life, but will acknowledge that name before my Father and his angels. Whoever has ears, let them hear what the Spirit says to the churches.

The Top Of The Sycamore; Zacchaeus' Song

* Jesus pray for me
* Zacchaeus pray for me

+-----The Top Of The Sycamore; Zacchaeus' Song

This is for all those who
say we’re too short to dream. That
opportunities for success are too tall
to be realized. We stand before
broad shoulders of unbelief,
thieves of obscurity stealing the sky
from our eyes, all is perpetual
darkness of longing and reaching for
faith, hope, belief,
as we press against discouragement
as this thronging,
unsympathetic and
carousing mob. Elongated necks
with frizzy scoffing hair in the thick of
the hulking stampeding crowd of self doubting
bellow “there is no savior who cares!”
elbows to throat, knees to smalls of the
back, they knock us over,
our faces slammed down on dirt of shame,
suffocating in despair’s dust. And
memories of our past failings are
the raucous noise in our souls of naysayers
of hindrance
dashing forward,
the pain of sandals crushing our head
and fingers, their sins of malice
like a horrid and putrid odor belying
people that claim they bathe regularly.
Notwithstanding, we aren’t easily conquered,
the dreams within us too obdurate
not to furtively climb away to risk
the chance of a lifetime. Disregarding life’s
negativity about stature and limitations,
we know that any who
dare to believe the impossible is possible,
that God smiles back at them, inviting
to dinner all who wait on branches of expectant joy
at the top of  sycamores
for Deliverance.


(For His victory)

----Luke 19:1-10
And Jesus entered and passed through Jericho. And, behold, there was a man named Zacchaeus, which was the chief among the publicans, and he was rich. And he sought to see Jesus who he was; and could not for the press, because he was little of stature. And he ran before, and climbed up into a sycomore tree to see him: for he was to pass that way. And when Jesus came to the place, he looked up, and saw him, and said unto him, Zacchaeus, make haste, and come down; for to day I must abide at thy house. And he made haste, and came down, and received him joyfully. And when they saw it, they all murmured, saying, That he was gone to be guest with a man that is a sinner. And Zacchaeus stood, and said unto the Lord: Behold, Lord, the half of my goods I give to the poor; and if I have taken any thing from any man by false accusation, I restore him fourfold. And Jesus said unto him, This day is salvation come to this house, forsomuch as he also is a son of Abraham. For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.

The High Fever Of Not Having You #SelenaHealTony

* Jesus pray for me
* Dedicated to Selena Gomez
#SelenaHealTony (Sorry #Biebs!!!)
* Dedicated to Good For You By Selena Gomez
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1TsVjvEkc4s


+-----The High Fever Of Not Having You

Selena, my lonely heart is my mother-
in-law afflicted with
an incorrigible high fever prolonged,
exhibiting all its requisite profane
and grotesque symptoms. My soul
vomits when Im spurned by girls
I ask to date, my emotions prone
to whooping coughs (accursed scarlet
nights, accursed white sheets
turned scarlet with sickly drool of bitterness)
my whole torso aching and spasmodic,
doleful creaking and rocking
 of hope’s bed frame. I cry. I feel
like death.
Oh baby, wont you come to me
and heal me,
your hair as black as coal
in Heaven’s mines, fuel for
the fire within me, flames for
healing, an inferno of my passion,
conflagration of all that is sexy. Your
lips would be to me two lush emissaries
of vigor pressed against mine
commissioned to relay joyful tidings
to my body
of coming vigor. Let your love
for me
be a Savior bent over my malady
of singleness in stern rebuke. Blessed
raging screams.
I swear my heart would get up
stat as you took me to coffee with you,
to hug and wait on you, the memory
of this vile sickness
dispelled from my mind
…forever.


(SORRY BIEBS, BUT I GOT A HUUUUUGE CRUSH ON SELENA!!! HEY BRO, I LOVE YOU BRO…BUT ITS JUST COFFEE!!!!)



----Luke 4:38-39
Jesus left the synagogue and went to the home of Simon. Now Simon's mother-in-law was suffering from a high fever, and they asked Jesus to help her. So he bent over her and rebuked the fever, and it left her. She got up at once and began to wait on them.

---------Good For You Lyrics
"Good For You"
(feat. A$AP Rocky)

I'm on my 14 carats
I'm 14 carat
Doing it up like Midas, mhm
Now you say I gotta touch
So good, so good
Make you never wanna leave
So don't, so don't

Gonna wear that dress you like, skin-tight
Do my hair up real, real nice
And syncopate my skin to your heart beating

'Cause I just wanna look good for you, good for you, uh-huh
I just wanna look good for you, good for you, uh-huh
Let me show you how proud I am to be yours
Leave this dress a mess on the floor
And still look good for you, good for you, uh-huh

I'm in my marquise diamonds
I'm a marquise diamond
Could even make that Tiffany jealous, mhm
You say I give it to you hard
So bad, so bad
Make you never wanna leave
I won't, I won't

Gonna wear that dress you like, skin-tight
Do my hair up real, real nice
And syncopate my skin to how you're breathing

'Cause I just wanna look good for you, good for you, uh-huh
I just wanna look good for you, good for you, uh-huh
Let me show you how proud I am to be yours
Leave this dress a mess on the floor
And still look good for you, good for you,

Uh-huh, uh-huh, ah...
Uh-huh, uh-huh, ah, mhm...

Trust me, I can take you there
Trust me, I can take you there
Trust me, I, trust me, I, trust me, I

[A$AP Rocky:]
Hold on, take a minute, love
'Cause I ain't trying to mess your image up
Like we mess around in triple cuffs
Stumble 'round town, pull your zipper up
Pants sag like I don't give a
I ain't trying to mess your fitness up
And I ain't trying to get you into stuff
But the way you touchin' on me in the club
Rubbin' on my miniature
John Hancock, the signature
Any time I hit it, know she feelin' for it through
And every time we get up, always end up on the news
Ain't worried bout no press and ain't worried bout the next chick
They love the way you dress and ain't got s* up on you
Jackpot, hit the jackpot (Whoo!)
Just met a bad miss without the a* shots (Whoo!)
You look good, girl, you know you did good, don't you?
You look good, girl, bet it feel good, don't it?

[Selena:]
I just wanna look good for you, good for you, uh-huh
Baby let me be good to you, good to you, uh-huh
Let me show you how proud I am to be yours
Leave this dress a mess on the floor
And still look good for you, good for you, uh-huh, uh-huh, ah...
Uh-huh, uh-huh...

Trust me, I, trust me, I, trust me, I

My Sweet Zipporah #TonyandHolly #wcw

* Jesus pray for me
* Moses, pray for me
* Dedicated to Bring Me The Horizon, Drown
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TkV5709EG5M
* Dedicated to Holly Holm #wcw #TonyandHolly

+-----My Sweet Zipporah

Holly, my mission is to love,
to love you despite the encumbrances
of my slavery of times past,
of white hot sands and cruel
barbed whips
and virulent spitting by taskmaster
girls who previously
turned me down. Callous Pharaohs. My heart
is boisterously crying out in petition
for emancipation, a multitudinous
nation of peoples
yearning to be set free from their Hell
in Egypt. When I arrive (with alacrity)
I will dispense intense disdain
on my admiration for those silly
women as ten macabre plagues:
murky water, frogs, gnats, lice, flies,
cattle disease, boils, thunder, hail,
locusts, darkness, and death
of my firstborn attractions- my tears
as God’s wrath from black skies,
snapping my chains of mourning forever.
My grandest joy will be in the celerity
of a paramour’s fugitive flight, the trek for
happiness on the other
side of the sea with you. I seek
savory milk and sweet dripping
honey from giddy hives of the Promised
Land of kissing your lips, to
run my fingers through your hair
while staring into your blue eyes, smiling.
                Oh baby please don’t let
me give up or fail en route, let your love for me
be an affirming sharp stone
cutting away imperfections rendering me
undesirable, the slit bleeding foreskin of
a son uncircumcised. If I lose faith
on the way, set these weaknesses atop
my feet to prove the error of my ways like
a prepuce of prior sins that invoked
the Angel of Death of Dating. In the end,
if you take me as I am, cradle me,
I will be the best husband I can to you
….even if a worn out, scarred
and bloody one.



----Exodus 4:24-26
And it came to pass by the way in the inn, that the Lord met him, and sought to kill him. Then Zipporah took a sharp stone, and cut off the foreskin of her son, and cast it at his feet, and said, Surely a bloody husband art thou to me. So he let him go: then she said, A bloody husband thou art, because of the circumcision.

----Drown Lyrics
What doesn't kill you makes you wish you were dead.
Got a hole in my soul, growing deeper and deeper.
And I can't take one more moment of this silence.
The loneliness is haunting me.
And the weight of the world's getting harder to hold up.

It comes in waves, I close my eyes.
Hold my breath and let it bury me.
I'm not okay, and it's not alright.
Won't you drag the lake and bring me home again?

Who will fix me now? Dive in when I'm down?
Save me from myself, don't let me drown.
Who will make me fight? Drag me out alive?
Save me from myself, don't let me drown.

What doesn't destroy you, leaves you broken instead.
Got a hole in my soul growing deeper and deeper.
And I can't take one more moment of this silence.
The loneliness is haunting me.
And the weight of the world's getting harder to hold up.

It comes in waves, I close my eyes.
Hold my breath and let it bury me.
I'm not okay, and it's not alright
Won't you drag the lake and bring me home again?

Who will fix me now? Dive in when I'm down?
Save me from myself, don't let me drown.
Who will make me fight? Drag me out alive?
Save me from myself, don't let me drown.

'Cause you know that I can't do this on my own.
(Woah oh oh oh)
'Cause you know that I can't do this on my own.
(Woah oh oh oh)
'Cause you know that I can't do this on my own.
(Woah oh oh oh)
('Cause you know that I can't do this on my own.)

Who will fix me now?
Who will fix me now?
Who will fix me now? Dive in when I'm down?
Save me from myself, don't let me drown.