I have sinned against thee
Yet you smiled at me
I have disobeyed thee
Yet you hugged me
I have blasphemed against thee
Yet you Forgave me
I have denied thee
Yet you Loved me
Jesus, I will never understand how or why
I cannot fathom why you died
I did not earn your Love, no; I never could.
Jesus, I will always serve you; This I could.
Have grown distant lately.
Back when the air I drank
Was more naïve,
We were friends sometimes
And sometimes enemies.
We bickered and loved
The taste of the wind,
The song of the chickadee,
The color of dreams
To warm my life.
The acres of that country
Are now reduced
To a single small lot
Encircled by a
Gray cyclone fence
That holds bitterness
Rather than keeping out
The worries of the world.
But I suppose
I don't really notice it,
Trees used to whisper to me
Of an earnest jay
Building her nest
Or of two squirrels
Caught up in the heat
But who really detects
Over so many
My own skull throbs
As if I'm diving
Down, down, deep
Into a scummy lake.
What breaks my heart
More than anything else
Is that I don't recall
My familiarity with the sky.
With silly and necessary things
To realize I've forgotten
Where are you?
Lightning pierces the darkening sky
as rain continues to pour.
But above the thunderous storm could be heard
the sobs of a little girl all alone.
Drenched in her own pool of tears...
her heart torn and bruised.
Her swollen eyes lifts towards the sky...
as her minds drifts...drifts above it all...
" Wake up, my love.
Daddy is here."
Her eyes lit up
as she runs into his arm.
Unable to contain her joy
her heart burst with excitement and laughter.
"Why are you laughing? "
"Cause you're here!
I'm so happy you're here!"
"I am happy as well. "
He lifts her up.
Holds her closer than he has ever done.
"Look my dear.
the sky is all clear now..."
Now we can do all those stuff you planned.
"Now we can go to the movies together.
Now we can walk in the park, while i hold you close.
Now we could go bike riding together
we could even make something together for your mother.
for the don to put a hit on breathing.
she'll be hanging from a ceiling fan
in no time. she'll be drowning in a
67 mustang fastback--red like blood,
except oxygen doesn't have blood.
we'll slit her neck, chuck her in the
backseat and drive her off a cliff.
and if the cops come, we'll blame
the ocean. we'll say that she got
tired of having smoke in those lungs
and she got tired of suffocating and
that's where the noose came in.
we'll use player's no. 6 cigarettes
to burn our numbers into that
girl's stockings, telling her to call
when she wants to get back to her
real job. but if she likes stilling the
air in ambulances, we can settle
for a few good nights feeling alive.
if the mob gives you our phone numbers,
we'll change our names, move to venice,
dye our hair blond, and burn any evidence
that may or may not be doused with our
fingerprints--but we'll burn those too.
and if you care to take a second look
you'll see that our cheekbones are
The day had come for him to receive his call to Earth, and when he had received it, he was confused from its written words. It stated that he was to be born on the Earth in a special time, and will be given the ability of leadership, where his family, friends and his community would receive the opportunity to serve their fellow brothers and sisters through his guidance. After that passage, it stated
Francis Ford Coppola: The Godfather of the New Hollywood (1972-1982)
The Godfather Is Back by donvito62
By the late 1960s, the big Hollywood movie studios had lost control over actual movie production.
Individual “executive producers” based at the “Big Five” increasingly cut deals with star independent producers, directors and, especially, movie star actors for percenta
I spoke Your word and You took their sons.
Now the mamas and the papas all curse my name.
You took their lives, I took the blame.
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.
I turned wrath and pride against my kin.
So grant me the mercy of which You tell;
send me to Heaven and not to Hell.
Tell me, Lord, was this not wrong?
We cry and we bleed, but not for long.
Our short lives are full of pain
that we cherish joy when it comes again.
So give me another cheek to turn:
A pool for their rage to boil and burn.
Lead these lost souls right back to You
through desert sands that shine our shoes.
My flock is lost, they dance and sing
for a golden calf when You are King.
Will You punish them to punish me
and turn their songs to silence and sleep?
Life is a gift that You take away.
You stomp and storm and You close The Gate.
For all Your power and all Your might
You're fickle like a child and You're rarin' for a fight.