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Poetry by Mark A. Foster

Poetry by Mark A. Foster

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Published by Mark A. Foster
This is some poetry I have written over the years.
This is some poetry I have written over the years.

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Published by: Mark A. Foster on Sep 29, 2013
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Mūsā Harún at-Tīna Ibn Herschel's Poetry Page



Pneumatological Assumptions
Power to accomplish Purpose through means; Man's dialectical animators

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Where wealth and poverty in redundancy meet. Could realize.Mūsā Harún at-Tīna Ibn Herschel's Poetry Page http://www. Having rising but no setting. O Spirit of Faith! O Power of the Soul! Magnetized by service. Could yearn.html Now covered by the Sacred Tree. "Between the brows lie sight!" 2 of 8 9/29/2013 3:16 PM . What would it be? 'Tis a substance simple and pure. Through the anima. Recalling alternations of light and shadow. Flee the animal. Where spiritual facsimile dictates choice. Through and beyond the pentacle. Comprehending limitation in the cosmic koan. Unable to cherish the mind walks of many.net/jccc/rs/poetrycontent. Imaging Truth from ocean pearls. Progress without motion. Could hope.markfoster. O Spirit of Man! Power of the Soul! Pondering the grammar of the kingdom of names. The power of diversity releases the dreamer From the prison of mediocrity. And the power of will though free is bound. If the ant could want. Manifesting eternally. Humility is the wormhole to the dimension of sacrifice. Being utterly incapable of annihilation. Man is beckoned in love and joy. Sui generis. Revealing to him his inner vision. Could envision The point at which the circle is joined. Possessing endless depots of consciousness. While bigotry rallies in the "regular" guy.

net/jccc/rs/poetrycontent. Pragmatics Mundane demands have robbed my time Though I would rather play Alas this is a part of chi'am I have my bills to pay From Her unto Him May thy heart find its peace In the Will of ha'Shem Where hurts one and all wilt be ended For life is a journey From Her unto Him In Whom all thy wounds shalt be mended 3 of 8 9/29/2013 3:16 PM . No two of each the same.markfoster. snowflake. Issue countless chains of linkings To a Source unknown. From matchless portions of grace to souls apiece. Respectively.. Respectfully ..Mūsā Harún at-Tīna Ibn Herschel's Poetry Page http://www. soul. thumbprint.. Respectively. Crystal.html (Instruct the Avatars) Heaven's Gate a life vein away.

July. To learn who I was meant to be.Mūsā Harún at-Tīna Ibn Herschel's Poetry Page http://www. portions revealed to me in a dream. As the paradigm shifts anew. By night I am consumed. By bread my soul is squeezed.net/jccc/rs/poetrycontent.markfoster.html Sandwich My life is now a sandwich. 4 of 8 9/29/2013 3:16 PM . 1999 When July has come and gone Will the month of August dawn Somehow life seems just the same Nostradamus takes the blame A Meditation on Condensed Reality A Sea of grace is all I see. 10/3/04 Jasmine A spray of jasmine And a ḥúríya is drawn Scurry ye ǧinn! ’Tis the break of Dawn Existential Authenticity. I wake up in the morning.

My consciousness I do create. Appears within my mind. To this my actions I relate. The Nightingale I've gone to prepare a nest in my heart.html A faculty shared by spirit and sense. My destiny unfurls.Mūsā Harún at-Tīna Ibn Herschel's Poetry Page By gazing from God's view. A place where the Nightingale can rest. http://www. to hear the sweetness of His call. Uncertainty The miasmas attacked me From whence I know not Five times in Forgotten Sea Perchance 'tis my lot 5 of 8 9/29/2013 3:16 PM . Which bridges space and time. With His charms does His message enthrall. Reflecting on God's worlds. O.markfoster. Backward and forward flies the heavenly Bird. Beholding ending in beginning Through His life-giving Word.net/jccc/rs/poetrycontent. The Reality which I condense.

markfoster. And by thy conscience. By thy will.net/jccc/rs/poetrycontent. Unto each of the chambers on high. Rúmí. The Persian Poets Saná'í. Through ethereal scrolls.Mūsā Harún at-Tīna Ibn Herschel's Poetry Page http://www. 2010) O Celestial Wayfarer! Enter by the gate To the waters of allegiance.html The Ringstone Glory spells the ringstone Kull-i-Shay in reframe The legions of the Concourse Cycle round the Greatest Name In the graphic formed by letters With a value each of five Maps the structure of reality Sources all that is alive The Gate (March 28. By the stations of thy heart. and `Aṭṭár Words weaved of silk By a ḥúrí from afar 6 of 8 9/29/2013 3:16 PM . Thou canst ascend.

net/jccc/rs/poetrycontent. 7 of 8 9/29/2013 3:16 PM .html Judgment Day Although perchance American zadih The call of the East hath beckoned Haply in Haifa (the city by the bay) Is where my soul will be reckoned The Serpentine Beast Behold the warrior king Andro? Gyn? EEE! Not me Waging the inner battle Over a forgotten wing Learn this. 2010) What remaineth to be spoken Couldst not be comprehended Lo! And if the words were uttered Wouldst The axis be dislodged. O defeated soldier: The Word is the Mother The Beauty is the Father The soul grew in Eden Through the power of the other Free thyself From the serpentine beast The war has been won By armies long deceased The Axis (April 4.Mūsā Harún at-Tīna Ibn Herschel's Poetry Page http://www.markfoster.

came to a stop. A big dark cloud then cov'd the day. It then. then nine. The clock of death was going mad. then eight.net/jccc/rs/poetrycontent. His feet lie still. But then the boy just smashed the clock. yes.markfoster. Poetry copyright © 1967-2013 1967-2013 Mark A. then. In tears he sat right by the clock. His mouth was dry. the devils gay. then five. And there it ended.html Clock of Death (written at 11 years old) A boy of youth was white with fear. Awaiting till it came to stop. His death he thought was growing near. It turned at thrice the speed of time. He slowly rose. Foster *** Poet? Yeah! Home | Prev | Next | Skip | More WR Special WebRing Help World of Webrings <> Discussion List Visit a complete list of WebRing memberships here Return to al-Ṭarīqa al-Wāḥidāt 8 of 8 9/29/2013 3:16 PM . That all the earth stood up and stared. He listened. all crushed and sad. But then more fright came to the lad. The angels sobbed. numb and clawed with chill. Then four.Mūsā Harún at-Tīna Ibn Herschel's Poetry Page http://www. With a tock.

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