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We Are Not Like GodO my love you are not like GodWe Are Not Like God by ~squibblyquill
Who pours out charity on the unworthy
Repaying tenfold the meager devotions of a soul
For I could pant in rapture
Or fast a hundred days
And all I'd get from you
Is one quick and crafty gaze
O my love I am not like God
Who gives endlessly without thought of gain
Remitting all debts with mercy and forgetfulness
For should you wash your robe in snow
Or give all you have as alms to the needy
We both know I'm starved for satisfaction's blow
And those fleeting gazes only make me greedy

CovetousI'm horribly voraciously covetousCovetous by ~squibblyquill
Don't think for instant I'm not
It's only the effort to be generous
That binds wanting to a quiet lot
True though
Some days I am greedier than others
How my soul dreams
Of rolling in you
Like a cat climbing
Up into your lap
Only to shove whiskers
Into stomach
Rub my ears repeatedly under chin
And knead your sternum
With confident lack
Of tact
Or meddlesome self-consciousness

Oh LarkBright little larkOh Lark by ~squibblyquill
Share me your spark
Bring light to the day
With giddy songs of May
Today, Tomorrow, Yesterday
They are but days
Adorned with every light but yours
Sing sweet spring-hearted being
Now before Fall returns
And bitter berries fill both our gullets

Love's Language of LiesPeople can say what they like;Love's Language of Lies by ~squibblyquill
A poet may lie through the night,
Weaving startling bundles of mellifluous melody-
Ingenious prostitution of the soul!
But I'm not such a gifted poet
That I can weave fairy tales and epic spells
From sunny skies and empty, wandering eyes.
Still my heart speaks in the language of lies,
Even though it can only voice what it knows.
So who would believe me if I wrote:
You are sweet peace
Cold compress on the brow
And warm life in the soul.

Aching For GreenEveryone should do more than planAching For Green by ~deadwood202
To stop this theft.
For the moment has past to fill barrels
Without a care,
Until we lie bereft
In a world without means.
Everyone should do what they can
To save what's left,
While the sunlight can still strike pine needles.
To hold what's real,
Before all that's left,
Is an aching for green.

Still Time to Change You, RodionIt begins with a once promising student and a number of contributing factors that could perhaps have been tolerated in isolation, but in their confluence bring about horrific crimes.Still Time to Change You, Rodion by ~valentunch
The student is “a strikingly handsome young man, with fine dark eyes, brown hair, and a slender well-knit figure, taller than the average.” He lives alone in a city of thousands, and unbeknownst to his distantly located but eminently involved mother, he has abandoned his schoolwork. His ideological commitments have become increasingly extreme and convoluted, and despite evidently having maintained at one time a rational, moderate worldview, he has &l