My broken- hearted complex dream
Upon a rush of mist, downstream
Endures the taint along parched sky,
Without a sign from night’s reply...
Without the need to touch the heart
That bruises me as smiles depart,
When all I had were dim farewells
On far off tinkling chapel bells.
The shortened glint of joyful days
That cheers me so in many ways,
When warm hands reach, as shadows fall
Before the morning birds enthrall...
When solace is a faithful song
That lifts me back where I belong,
Before stars' luster marks their claim
And reach out with their gleam, aflame.
Somehow the hint of doubts untold
Unburdens every thorn I hold;
And His word made flesh pours a grace
To ease my thoughts with fond embrace
Until one last surrendering...
I raise my cheeks and start to sing,
And from this moment’s jubilee
Life endows a day meant for me.
Verlena Walker's Contest
This Is The Day The Lord Gave
By nette onclaud / 1/22/2015
Had Hoped to Find
Started sorting out and was hard to tell
Which one would be my favorite shell
Then did consistently, constantly, compare
All lying by beach shore here and there.
Some were round and others oblong and odd
That had been made by our great God
All of various colors and many designs;
Several with spiral and also curvy lines.
Through shells started to separate and strain
While ocean waves played a sweet refrain
Asking me why I have become a big creep
All of God's precious shells trying to keep.
In each day mornings will always break
So I then said to myself for goodness sake
Will be best if lovely shells are left behind
For others who often had hoped to find.
The flying sent projections free to see,
from adjunct Astrals singing bold decree.
Perched on Pisces’s cusp, forsaking Plato’s cave,
Puppets casting shadows, chancing me a slave.
They hang from dreams of higher forms, allures
Contempt in self when loving carnal cores.
Haunted by women’s passions kept in Spirits,
Dawns my sleeping stages now inherits
Marionettes aloft eternal twists
of spinning truths with lies recalling trysts.
Killing prone volitions, changing essence.
Chosen starlight’s beings guiding presence.
Upon a love in purest form demands,
Forgotten suicides of ego strands.
Risking Pirsig’s fate in Zen and journey,
Waging sanity, a bounty worthy.
The stringing of my soul and bracing seeks,
A pulling truth beyond this death it speaks.
Alternating stanzas of iambic and trochaic pentameter
A magical and most wonderful creature of times old,
With a holy soul filled with love and a heart of gold.
Harmony, peace, and love pervade her very essence,
And they define all that is good and grand in her presence.
She loves poets, musicians, and all of us who so often dream,
And visits us all in ethereal visions on a radiant light beam.
This Valentine’s Unicorn is a precious bearer of purest love,
Who possesses angelic power from the very Heavens above.
She lives in our hearts and souls as an enchanted dream,
And shares her love and trust with us all as we dream.
She shares our dreams past, present, and future—
And shall always be a spirit of majestic love in our future.
On Valentine’s Day her love is felt on Earth and in Heaven above,
As she sends us harmony, peace, and love on the wings of a dove!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (February 9, 2015)
All that I had, just yesterday
Has suddenly, been taken away
Me yes me, a foolish man of clay
Suddenly I have so much to say
When instead, I'd be wise to pray
Why oh why, me oh my
Take me now I want to die
I liked it better, when I was perched on high
My wings were strong, I loved to fly
I was given much, I gave no thanks
I sat upon lush river banks
My ship majestic, I watched as it sank
Now this world seems cold and dank
My cup was full it over flowed
Yet gratitude I barely showed
Instead of narrow, I chose wider road
My love of self it barely slowed
If only I had seen more clear
I wonder if I'd now be here
Feeling alone and filled with fear
Oh please dear God, I need you near
I heard him say, I'm sorry son
Your life is over, now it's done
You chose your god, I wasn't the one
Love of plenty and pleasured fun!
So down to Hell my soul is brought
A place of pain both cold and hot
My insides squeezed inside a knot
Now what I treasured doesn't mean a lot
From this nightmare, I thankfully awake
My soul and being begin to shake
Please Lord forgive me, my mistake
Help me learn to give, instead of take!
I try to be thankful every day
With God's help, stay on the narrow way
It's not about me and that's okay
Vision much clearer, when to Jesus I pray.
This poem was inspired by my brother Roy.
He sent an email that asked "What if you only woke up with what you said
thanks for yesterday?" what a great question!
Looking Deeply into Your Heavenly Eyes
It’s such a beautiful Cosmos I see in your eyes My Love,
When I’m looking so deeply into your Heavenly Eyes.
I sense love, harmony and such passionate feeling,
As I ponder the warm images I see and feel so My Love.
As you look deeply into my eyes too My Love,
I hope you sense my desire, passion, and love too.
What more could anyone ask for in this life My Love—
For without Love any celestial metaphor is truly meaningless.
And so, sometimes late at night as I dream so deeply of you My Love,
I meld as one with the sight I see so deeply in your Heavenly Eyes!
And I want you to know that I shall be with you forever My Love,
And for the rest of my life and beyond—my heart is forever yours!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (January 16, 2015)
Divine Master most precious crowned golden Spirit
You who sits in Heaven regal most gracious hear our prayers
Lord and Holy Master angels sing in choir rejoicing
in Your love we break and share bread with wine
Body and blood in Your suffering for our sins
Died on the cross at Calvary forgive me my King
I am weak in the eyes of the world guide me
always and forever in Your light colours freedom Amen.
Inspired by the song "Last Kiss" by Pearl Jam
You had just gotten your first car, a 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air,
We were only seventeen years old and neither had a care,
You came over after school and asked me to go for a drive,
We longed for freedom of the road, we never felt so alive.
Always the gentleman, as you opened the powder blue door,
But, after tonight you would be doing this for me no more,
I remember how the moonlight shined off of the chrome,
When you picked me up and I would never return home.
I cannot ever stop thinking about and replaying our past,
I still remember your soft kiss, and it would be our last,
Because, this tender embrace would never happen again,
There was no way that either of us could've known it then.
The impact was so sudden that I felt almost no pain,
As the car swerved out of control into the other lane,
It all happened so fast, there was no time to scream,
Now my existence is a nightmare, just some bad dream.
My body grew cold fast, but I could still feel the heat,
Of the warm blood dripping down onto the leather seat,
I lay there silently, nearly lifeless, held against your shoulder,
It was then I realized that I would not be growing older.
The radio faded away as I closed my eyes for the last time,
What happened to me was an accident, and not a crime,
I will wait for you on this spot, by the very same tree,
Where most people don't notice, but some of them see.
It's an anniversary, it will be 58 years around midnight,
The misting rain and lingering fog will keep me from sight,
As the headlights go flying by, shining from modern cars,
I'm hoping one of them will be you to take me to the stars.
When I do leave this world, side by side we will stand,
And this bad dream will finally be over as you take my hand,
I am waiting to go to heaven, only you can bring me there,
In your brand new, powder blue 1957 Chevrolet Bel-Air.
Safely at Sunday school while Mama prayed in the pew,
She offered up healing requests, she always had a few.
Lord, please forgive me, for I can not continue this way,
The burden you have brought with this child, you try me everyday
I didn't understand why Mama often sat in the dark, crying.
Every time she looked upon my disfigured face, a piece of her dying.
My speech was slurred and soft, weak was my body, though only ten.
Father inflicted this pain upon me, a haunting remember when.
Mama never let herself be forgiven, she wore shame on her skin.
A battle against rage and depression, one she would not ever win.
Father went to prison and Mama had to suffer a broken heart.
To add my problems into the mix, her world was broken, ripped apart.
Lord, please help Mama, her heart has forgotten how to love,
Send her healing, oh Lord, send her an angel, on that fits like a glove
Meeting the new fellowship pastor, Mama would find lessons to learn,
To open her heart once again, to know where frozen embers still burn.
For Contest: Where frozen embers still burn
Host: Gail Angel Doyle
The tragedy of a Miracle started today
Our Lord’s brutalized body passed away
Of all the tragedies in the history of man
This is one I try to grasp, but never can
For some reason I find it impossible to see
We crucified the greatest man in our history
Through all of the gain and all of the loss
It was a predestined coin man had to toss
I wonder how Pilot must have felt that day
He washed cowards hands in a cowardly way
Beaten and tortured, his skin ripped to shreds
As a thorny crown dug holes into Jesus’ head
While nailed to the cross he had one final goal
Through the mercy of love he saved another soul
He saved that soul and then our Lord Jesus died
Can you imagine the countless tears that were cried?
As we all know Jesus' body was placed into a tomb
To my minds eye it was no less than a spiritual womb
And from inside that womb salvation was born
For the tomb was found empty come Sunday morn
This is not how the story ends it is only how it starts
The Lord now lives up inside each one of our hearts
Even those lost in Prison, the ones like I used to be
Can turn to the Lord and then they will be set free
Freedom is a thing that I think we all strive to find
It is etched in our heart and engraved in our mind
I was locked up in a cell nestled tightly away
Facing several years that I would have to pay
Up inside of that cell I made my own decree
A true miracle was taking place inside of me
I was a very evil man and I was so proud to show it
In the wink of an eye I was transformed into a Poet
I learned there is only one way to truly be free
Ask of the Lord, “ Jesus please come unto me”
And just as the Lord Jesus Christ rose up out of his tomb
We can all live with-in the comfort of his spiritual womb
There is a spirit that watches over you
In the daylight hours, and nightime too.
You may not think that they are there
But there is a way to make you aware.
I learned the name of my angel a long time ago
Because I was interested and I wanted to know.
His name is "Maximus" and is with me here
To learn of his presence once made me fear.
Because what you do is watched all the day
The angel keeps tabs, God finds out that way.
I guess you think I'm being naive
Trust your faith, if you believe.
If you want to know your angel's name
There is a way to find out which is no game.
Say a prayer for three days in a row
And after each time ask him to reveal his name to you.
If you believe in him he will tell you true
If not, he may be silent to you.
I know of others who have tried this I can say
Some, have learned the names of their angels this way.
When you pray for their name do not think it absurd
Some, I know, will hear that singular word.
It won't come as a shout from heaven on high
But rather as a whisper, when your angel is nigh.
These spiritual beings are here for us all
Sometimes they wait just to here us call.
And when you do wouldn't if be grand
If you knew the spirit's name...who behind you stands!
Try it and see if you think I'm fooling around
Be honest with yourself with both feet on the ground.
As someday that spiritual angel you will greet
Wouldn't it be nice to be on a "first name" basis when you meet?
And if you try but do not hear their name
Keep on trying because your conviction was lame.
I know many will think I'm crazy with this
But knowing my angel's name has brought comfort and bliss.
So try it yourself and see if in kind
If your angel will speak to you...they really don't mind.
Because then a dialogue with them you can share,
Even if they never speak again, you'll know...they're there.
When you pluck a flower, the tree remains silent When you remove a leaf, it reposes to relent
When you climb over, it shields When you sever a branch, it yields
When you harvest the fruits, it doesn’t demur When you cut a portion, it doesn’t murmur
When you replant, it don’t quit When you cut the whole tree, it is quiet
For the tree treats you, as its’ master! So your needs, happily it does cater!!
By silence, it symbolizes surrender It silently shows a noble order
The tree, to its’ master, contently admit Like the tree, to your Master, learn to solemnly submit!
Above poem is adapted from the eBook “WHEN DESTINY DATES! AND OTHER POEMS ON LIFE ” by Mr.V.Muthu manickam. Copyright is held by V.Muthu manickam.
God has a plan,
And it is out of my hands.
Time takes age and does what it will
Man ages and wishes time to stand still.
There is infinite turning of the hands on a clock
As mortals we hear the constant tick-tock.
There is a human desire to leave something behind
Hoping our earthly possessions ease our greedy mind.
What is gathered on this planet of earth
Can not bring us back to our place of birth.
Helping others should be our lifetime goal
Not cluttering earth before you're put in a hole.
God gives us an ultimate rule
Love one another and not to be cruel.
If we really wish to leave something behind
Teach your children to give and to be kind.
Your legacy should not be what you can obtain
But what your lineage does each and everyday.
Copyright © 2013
Skittles and a soda
against a gun in its holster?
One day that scream
will be known as a teen
not a heinous lying Fein
What a sinister ploy and twist
with a loaded gun and no fist?
Had everyone sitting and waiting
doomed by a verdict just delaying
Was this just an optical illusion
or, a devious planned conclusion?
Now, this generation too afraid
wearing hoodies will get you dead
But, the Klan was still glad
hoodies they've always had
A verdict they too saw,
ushering in martial law
Papa Adam and Mama Eve's third son
Means House of Bread
Copyright © 2013
Politicians' greed seems to hover
Over our lives, a simmering cover
Separation of Church and State?
Satan planned mankind's fate
As in the days of Noah, sin did hover
Over their land like locusts do cover
The faithful do not fret what is hovering
By HIS Blood, the Lord is still covering
Our leaders refuse to make a deal
When enthralled by Satan's Will
Politics, and selfish greed
Failing our Nation's need
Obama-Care, a change that's fair
Or, struggling against Satan's lair?
But, ye faithful remember the heavens hover
Till horns blow clearing clouds that do cover.
edited: 6 Aug 2013 - 8:22pm
25 Sep 2013 - 8:13pm
How many years now has it been – maybe fifty-seven?
We’ve traveled down some pleasant roads, on our way to Heaven.
We’ve looked into each other’s eyes – seen both joy and despair.
We’ve wondered how we’d make it when resources were not there.
In looking back to find just how this love of ours began
I believe it is controlled by some divine master plan.
I believe if God does not exist there’d be no you and me.
And all this time together would be less than destiny.
I know that my redeemer lives – God’s word tells me so –
He sent you as a soul mate as through this life I go.
He knew there would be obstacles; I know He put some there
To determine if we’d solve them with the mighty gift of prayer.
I believe the lesson we have learned in traveling down life’s road
Is to bring our troubles to Him to lighten up the load.
We realize that we’ve been blessed sharing time together here
Still one decision faces us --- Shall we try for one more year?
Written for my wife on the occasion of our 57th…12/21/12 … Let’s go again Darlin’…. John Posey
Love was as hot as a red moon.
Passion was on fire and was soothed.
A total lunar eclipse occurred on April 15.
The moon was coopery red.
The warmth of her blood was astrologically aligned.
Mother Earth was with her Sun God.
She stood majestically in his eyes.
The core of his being was a deep arousal of desire.
Oblivion Dark Sunshine
Sought the Red Moon via telescope,
a ritualized ceremony.
Sponsor: Dave Wood
Contest Name: RED MOON
Third Glorious Mystery
The descent of the Eternal Holy Spirit
The first murderer in human history
According to the Bible
Satan is the prince of the air
Saul or St. Paul went to the Witch of Endor
To get her to conjure up Samuel from the dead.
Life is like a hurricane.
Life, is like a heavy rain.
A lake of pain like lake Baikal.
Tears, flow like a waterfall.
People are like granite stone;
in the end your'e left alone.
But what of the good things?
Like the sound of when a church bell rings?
Or the miraculous, beautiful way
one helps another through troublesome day?
Tragedies of life aren't fun,
but in the end we learn a ton.
Though pain we do remember,
the flame eventually turns to ember.
You see, the thing about walking through earth each day,
is The King turns the curse to a healthy pathway.
I've heard people use these words, since my birth
never truthfully considering, what time is worth
through recess, football games, wars and strife
guess I've wasted time, all throughout my life
like laying in the sun, watching birds in the air
seemingly, flying back and forth, without a care
but then I understand, what's really been seen
Their scouring earth for food, to keep it green
Thinking of all instances, as I go back in time
Time I thought was wasted, was really my climb
From the time of birth, we start climbing stairs
seeing, feeling and learning, of life and prayers
grand-children say "can't afford, to waste any time"
I say "can't afford not to, soon the bell will chime"
signaling the last lap, in your race against time
A chance to help others or keep chasing the dime
If you choose, chasing a dime, for wealth in a bank
your life will be remembered, somewhere on a plank
or choose to help others, your words persist on a troll
teaching "nothing is wasted that's good for your soul"
The palm trees swaying in the late spring breeze
The colorful flowers placed so carefully under the palm trees
I am truly amazed as I sit here and watch what god has created, such an amazing and glorious sight
Everytime I see it, its always a special delight
and I think of what a beautiful world out there for me
With every blue sky, rainbow and the flower growing underneath the swaying palm tree
There is always a reason
Why things happen
The Liturgy of the Hours
Draws mainly from the Biblical book of Psalms
Ok, I'm just going to say this, be confessional and admit;
That I hate waiting, it makes me want to throw a hissy fit.
I know that doesn't sound spiritual, but it surely is the truth;
Standing around, hands in my pockets, is totally uncouth.
Dependent on someone else... ugh, the intolerableness of it all;
Makes me want to scream, when progress comes to a crawl.
It was fine when I was a baby, and didn't know any better;
If I sat there all day, in a diaper getting wetter and wetter.
Maybe this is why, we don't remember those early days;
To keep us from blowing a gasket, and coming off as crazed.
Is anyone with me here, or am I in this struggle all alone?
That I hate waiting, in every single form that can be known.
The grocery store for instance, there's a conspiracy against me;
It's true whatever line I pick, I'll get the new and slow trainee.
So if you ever see me in a store, please pick the other line;
You'll be out of there so fast, back home, relaxed in no time.
I wish that I were done, but there's something more to be said;
I hope this won't offend, and it's submitted with some dread.
In those times I have to wait, the very last thing I want to hear;
Is a spiritual pep talk on patience, let's make that crystal clear.
I know patience is a virtue, God is working things for my good;
He loves me in my circumstance, even when I've misunderstood.
Telling myself these things, while standing in another line that lags;
Yeah, down at the DMV, I've been waiting three hours for car tags.
So I get it my Christian brother, even if it appears I don't engage
It's just hard to hear it, from a guy who struggles with road rage.
Nowhere is your patience more tested, than on the adoption trail;
Before the Promise land, a wilderness, many times you'll want to bail.
But in my office are scores of pictures, children who've found a home;
Each of them a thousand-word sermon, that you will not always roam.
Your wait will have an ending, And God 's promises will come true;
The treasure was hidden in the difficult, He gave the grace to see it through.