LOVE.LIVE.SMILE.PEACE & POETRY

I hope you find this blog to be filled with love while inspiring you to live and experience life, smile, and to spread peace to the world, with poetry accompanying you along the way. Welcome to Peyton's Place.

tortoises-in-the-tardis:

Silence is my friend.

It doesn’t say a thing, yet

hears all of my words.

kushandwizdom:

Good Vibes HERE

Spoken Words by Isaac Wimberley

thebeautylifeoffers:

If there are words for Him then I don’t have them. 
You see, my brain has not yet reached the point where it could form a thought that could adequately describe the greatness of my God
and my lungs have not yet developed the ability to release a breath with enough agility to breathe out the greatness of his love, 
and my voice, you see, my voice, is so inhibited, restrained by human limits that it’s hard to even sing the praise of…  
You see if there are words for Him then I don’t have them. 

My God, 
His grace is remarkable,
mercies are enumerable, 
strength is impenetrable,
He is honorable,
accountable,
favorable, 
He is unsearchable yet knowable,
indefinable yet approachable,
indescribable yet personal, 
He is beyond comprehension,
further than imagination,
constant thru generations, 
king of every nation. 

But if there are words for Him then I don’t have them. 
You see, my words are few,
and to try to capture the one true God, using my vocabulary will never do, 
but I use words as an expression, 
an expression of worship to a savior, 
a savior who is both worthy and deserving of my praise, so I use words. 

My heart extols the Lord,
blesses his name forever, 
He has won my heart captured my mind and has bound them both together, 
He has defeated me in my rebellion, 
conquered me in my sin, 
He has welcomed me into his presence, 
completely invited me in. 
He has made himself the object of my sight
flooding me with mercies in the morning
drowning me with grace in the night. 

But if there are words for Him then I don’t have them. 
But what I do have is good news, 
for my God knew that manmade words would never do, 
for words are just tools that we use to point to the truth, 
so He sent His son Jesus Christ as “The Word”, living proof, 
He is the image of the invisible God,
the first born of all creation, 
for by Him all things are created, giving nothingness formation, 
and by His words he sustains, in the power of His name, 
for He is before all things and over all things he reigns,
holy is his name, so praise him for his life…

The way, he persevered in strife, 
the humble son of God becoming the perfect sacrifice, 
praise him for his death… 
that He willingly stood in our place,
that he lovingly endured the grave, 
that he battled our enemy and on the third day rose in victory. 

He is everything that was promised, 
praise Him as your risen king,
lift your voice and sing for one day he will return for us 
and we will finally be united with our savior for eternity,
eternity. 

So it’s not just words that I proclaim, 
for my words point to “The Word” and “The Word” has a name, 
hope has a name, 
joy has a name, 
peace has a name, 
love has a name
and that name is Jesus Christ.

Praise his name forever!

“There’s no saving the damsel in love with her distress.”

—   (s.r)  (via silhouettes-of-my-soul)

“Words have been my tongue,
for years—scribbled letters underneath my skin
is like antiquated mailbox in front of
derelict lawn, unable to open.
Dear,
Dear,
Dear’
Yours Truly,
(I talked to no one)
Like shouting on the top of the
mountain, all I could ever understand is
my own solitude voice bouncing back and forth
against imperceptible parapets, crying for the
words you suppose to hear.
Like writing your name on the seashore,
it gets eradicated once the waves pulled back
themselves, they leave full blankness as though
a wrinkly clothe has been ironed,
—gone.
I have sent and hoarded bruises, pains
and most of all silence underneath my
flesh. In the end, I added another part
of my body—I called it mailbox.”

—   The Mailbox (via fauxexister)

“Writing is an underestimated art,
you are painting colorful images
in people’s minds by using words
of black and white.”

—   i.c. "The Art of Writing" (via delicatepoetry)

(via ambiguous-transparency)

silhouettes-of-my-soul:

when the sun is taken
from your skies,
you’ll remember one of two things-
the first being how dark
the world is without it,
the second being how bright
the stars are

 —   (s.r)

I am frightened most
when I put pen to paper
and nothing comes out,
when I’ve nothing to write at all,
I have fed the monster in me
every shred of my existence
and it is quiet most before it wakes.

A calm before the storm,
soon to be awoken
spilling words like fire
from its unhinged jaw,
every feeling pushed
to the back of the mind
now front and center,
all the once imprisoned words
on paper breaking free and
crawling up my arms into my ears
and reminding me of
everything I’ve tried to forget.

And all I can do is
pull them from my mind,
send them racing down my arms,
force them from my fingertips to pen
and put them back to paper —
all to quiet the monster
so I can have a moment of peace
inside my incessant mind.

—   (via lucyquin)
kushandwizdom:

Good Vibes HERE
is simply the best way.

is simply the best way.

(Source: rebloglr, via wowlukejames)

“The white page is offensive. Take it outside with you, leave it to darken beneath the sun. Fill the page with your colors.”

—   ||  Maza-Dohta (via maza-dohta)
razorshapes:

Mojo Wang
kushandwizdom:

Good Vibes HERE

I’m so happy I can’t write.

(Source: ambiguous-transparency)