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Epic Spiritual Poems | Epic Poems About Spiritual

These Epic Spiritual poems are examples of Epic poems about Spiritual. These are the best examples of Epic Spiritual poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Three Hundred

Three Hundred

The wraiths were ringing dead wrought bells
while closely passed the shady shapes
of woods in dusk, where red indwells
communion made from ghostly grapes.

He ran amidst the winds and passed
across the side where grapevines grew,
it was her presence that amassed
small leaves and droplets of fog's dew.

Inside the winds' lone strings accord,
his Bell full-face, was dropped along
the streamlets and horizon's board,
untamed his scopes, they don't belong.

The Astral Chords! He knew this debt;
the skies demand and kill and draw,
the darkened paths his thought beget,
rose thorny droplets on his brow.

Persephone shall be his wed,
subsiding dew the mist regales,
the stringing roar that reaches red,
his greatest bride resigns his trails.

Shall be the threading of winds' howls,
her plea arises from the shades,
homecoming queen from astral halls,
he harks the northern swashing blades.

Ablution's her enjoining black
"Enfold me in the rising dawn
enfold your sadness in the dark
with magistral the curtains drawn".

Acute of wounds she heals and mends
the asphalt of the mists awaits
pristine her bridal thorns amends
while passing through the Hades gates.

Three hundred reasons drew the drapes,
three hundred strings of diligence;
The winds regaled the bride's agape,
his celebration to commence.

© 10-14-2013, George Venetopoulos
(Iambic Tetrameter - Epic)

Three Hundred = 300 Kilometers per hour. The final speed a super-bike of 1,000cc engine is able to outreach.


Details | Verse | |

The mist around the boulder

The mist around the boulder

She kept her staring eyes beyond the ridge and orange skylines,
where sun descended crowning bells, and dithering mauve thistles;
it was the time the shadows fell upon the fragrant grapevines,
while blue was spreading from the east and winds in branches whistled.

The dark of night embrace'd her form, espouse'd her thought and breathing,
how lonesome was the specter of this shortened time and order
when bold the blades of memories return'd and beam'd unsheathing,
granite became his thought, and hers, the mist around the boulder.

The dark of night embrace'd him, then, and wraiths, above, surpass'd him
across the Acheronian stills where shadowed lifted billows,
bestowed on him armorial vows and her betrothal bracing
of orchard blooms and stalwart deeds among the astral meadows.

© 2015-02-19, Georgios Venetopoulos, All rights reserved
(Iambic decapentasyllabic verse)

Sponsor: gautami phookan
Contest Name: I THINK OF YOU
Deadline: 3/13/2015


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

The Stork - Iambic pentameter -

The Stork

The ship arrived surrounded by the dew,
his past she carried on her seaward tracks,
across-the-board, the skyline turned up dark,
- a stork he was, comradely to her crew.

(Thus, curious, he stood upon the moors,
projecting epitome of their rejoice,
and stern, the sea-waves' hum repressed their voice,
enduring memory the dusk allures.)

A clever stork, with harbors in cahoot,
side-gazed for the sunken to discern,
while apt, the sea-men deftness and concern,
applied the coloring of nightly soot.

The dusk abraded, then, the ship's details,
the numbness of the gray was still; she stared
as his persistent, learning eyes had paired
with mind's perseverance, head-ropes and brails.

The boats quizzical, around him tripp'd,
loose wooden cradle-coffins-like, astray,
companions lost beyond the clouds' array,
as signalizing waves, on moorings whipp'd.

( Their sacrosanct ascent designed the stairs,
for spotless angels to walk upon the blue,
like then, the stork recited what was true,
- a dark night ship, for his bird-story cares.

And then they fled to skies - two passing glows
that cut through distances, in ardent Spring
a song for wanderers, harmonic link,
- pure emeralds the shoreline-noon bestows. )

What foolishness of storks invites the ship,
stray souls to marry in his darkened phase,
meanwhile three smoking ebon-funnels praise
our wraiths' long flight on everlasting trip?

© G. Venetopoulos, 09/25/2012, All rights reserved
(Iambic Pentameter)

The poem has never entered a contest before.

Sponsor: gautami phookan
Contest Name: One of your best 


Details | Epic | |

Seduction's Abduction


I begin as a covet, dulcet demure
pure in play, unbound to a dogma or tablature, a luscious lure,
I find that nerve of passion's verve nestled 'neath narcissistic comfiture
a covey of tingles taunting the ambition you serve, swift and swill I swerve,
in you I introduce a tempo of truth trailing a kiss along your spine's curve
a persuasion of perversion purring patiently in almighty allure,
reaching your pinnacle pulse I assure,

Entwining myself around your libido with nibbling nurture
binding you to the alter of painstaking pleasure I relieve with analgesic swelter
hoodwinking your will with a delicate dominance I am the prima donna capture,
embellishing the envisage of eros, I burnish organs keen with aphrodisiac welter
you become a devout captive to me, the divine dominator,
I am the matador confronting your impulsive power
the target of your sexual tremor,
spear tipped with warm vigor
into you I pound a wonder,
vice and virtue surrender
to principle superior in passionate plunder, for you become the conquer's lover,
taking my spirit from specter to flesh victor,

I will make a woman the vessel of volcanic velvet,
revolutionize female thighs, simmering the sighs in eyes,
make the wrap of a man's arms a hearth of healing heat soul felt,
his tongue a torch pinging with paced pause within mouths magnetized, 

A coup de tat taken to your Shangrila,
weaknesses my wayfaring, strengths the servants of my junta
my sweet magic of mayhem laid upon your lithesome lips, the coup de grace -

J.A.B.


Details | Epic | |

Thracian Eve


Thracian Eve 

Subsequent the fog walls act
(dance solitaire of its white sway)
the sovereign of woods display 
- adaxial his life protract. 

Amidst the woods and in the haze 
(diffused in air's the deep green light)
advertent nymph in veiling white 
- and ancient Thracian spirits' phase. 

An aisling she appeared and ere 
her solitude his stare absorbed 
she spelled his name - a song birds curbed 
- betrothal mountains' claim of e'er. 

A melody of singing aves 
upon the slopes where lantern-moons 
interconnected with the tunes, 
- aloneness of her festal Eves. 

Belike beams floated on air streams 
the Gods invited while fog's soars 
agremones clothe ancient wars 
entwined with Strymon's seaward themes. 

Aberdevines on Thracian wold 
and nightingales' expanded song 
the mountain mists embrace erelong 
- abthane the temples eyes behold. 

Her flight has reached the ether's heights 
steep slopes that mortals followed thence,
amid the thymes their lives commence,
when nightingales invite the nights.

© 05-24-2013, G. Venetopoulos
(Iambic tetrameter)


G.V.


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Cherokee


Cherokee (Tall Warrior of Tanasi)

White smoke ascends above the distant hearths
the softness of the cold, inside connotes;
while snow continues spreading on the earth,
his spotted chestnut snorts, and vapor floats.

Concerned the stalwart stares above the land
where snow flakes in the winter gust rotate
the herds of buffalo tracked down and strand
-were forced to move ahead and relocate. 

The Ag'tanahi-Anisgaya words fly
with crows' invisible fast wings and stray,
they guide his solemn spirit to reply
to calls, the sovereign woods and night convey.

The Warrior of Tanasi harks the sough,
the trees conduct to him along the slope,
what precognitions in the ether strew,
who has the wisdom will translate pines' trope.

The winds transmit the ancestors' same song
to the Tanasi of the Cherokee, Tall soul,
inside the woods they dance with snow along
repetitive crows winging and skies' call.

Inside the night he drifts along death's fare
where sacrifice redeems itself with pride
The Greater Spirit shall bestow his care,
for the Tanasi kindred, will provide.

© G. V., 11-07-2013, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic Pentameter)

Ag'ta na hi = wise
A ni s ga ya = men


Details | Epic | |

where braves amid the mists ignite


where braves amid the mists ignite

He knows the dance of lines at night,
 and their expanding, wayward trip
the perils and the clipons' grip.

Convergent margins that unite
 where once per life, lines sternly meet
to be horizons' incomplete.

Past scenes recite and years invite,
 abstruse the ranges, lift and share
with precognitions' blue affair.

His dream abides on beaming light,
  bike's thrust approaches distant knots
and his horizons' linking thoughts.

Where braves their destiny incite
 as lines embellish roads' decor,
and scenes return to years before.

Defiantly his words indite,
 what his third destiny perfects,
trajectories of skyward wrecks.

Where braves amid the mists ignite
 their speeding dreams of years eighteen
and turn to woods of evergreen.

He knows the dance of lines at night,
 convergent margins that unite,
past scenes recite and years invite.
 His dreams abide on beaming light
where braves their destiny incite,
 defiantly his words indite
where braves amid the mists ignite.

© 12-23-2013, G. Venetopoulos
(Iambic tetrameter)

"Third Destiny" = Please read the "About the poem" details.


Details | Verse | |

Temujin

Temujin

The purple Royal banners wave above his armor's steel;
the chieftain carries his Mongolian, relentless wit,
young Genghis Khan, the Temujin, applies his sovereign zeal,
to merge the lands beneath his will, the warlords to befit.

Consorted by young Börte of the Onggirat kin tribe,
the martial Temujin receives high honors by the clans;
a skillful warrior invades the lands while his young bride,
awaits; for no one else predestined is to be her man.

The chieftain slaughters hence his passage through the western soils
invincible his tactics are, and triumphs ascertain,
advance his rule, expand his territorial rights and spoils,
while Börte, granting loyalty, in virtue she ordains.

How valued is the flight of eagles that conduct above,
depict trajectories, and soar to vanish where the Gods
embrace the sadness of unanswered prayers and bridal love,
the Royal maid in loneliness, defends against all odds?

So priceless have become their plumes upon the Mongol plains,
where the persistent Northern steppe cold winds enfold the ghosts
and Princess Börte counts her solitude, stands tall and reigns,
believing that her Temujin bestows his kind riposte!

" Support him Goddess of the moon when grooming Charon thuds
and sends the clanging of the steel, commanding thus, the souls,
to travel the descending route of coursing loveless blood,
and through the gusting of the winds, transports their saddened calls. "

© 01-20-2014, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Fourteener, Iambic heptameter)
GV


Details | ABC | |

There is a place

There is a place you can go that is full of only love and Warmth .
you will be surrounded by a light that shines from the Heavens ,
Sprinkles of Silver and Gold. 

This place is filled with brilliant colors of Purple , vibrant Gold, all colors.
not one Color is less significant then another ,
for every color is equal here .

This place is surrounded by the beauty of different Flowers.
All flowers have significance here . No one Flower is better then another .
All Flowers are equal here .

It is important you know , you can cry here , and should cry as often as needed .
For  the tears will cleanse your Soul and give the Flowers water to grow.
No  one Tear is insignificant here , every tear has value and not one is better then another .

 money holds no value ,  Where you live , what you own,  has no significance here .

You will be surrounded by a beautiful light that shines from the Heavens .
A shining warm light will encircle you and allow nothing to hurt you . 
Hate will be shed at the door like an old jacket of no use. 

There is a place of beauty and  Worth.
This place will not be found on Earth .
It is a place where no one person is better then another .


Details | Marsiya | |

I'm my Daddy Made Over

Dedicated to my Dad Jerry W. Niday 3/20/1952 - 6/18/2013


I am who I am because of him
He’s the reason for my son’s name
He gave me my courage & my strength
To stand tall even when standing wasn’t easy
Stand for the ones who can’t
To think and fend for myself
I’m my Daddy made over

Taught me to fight back 
To never back down
How to pick myself back up
When I’ve been knocked down
Fight for what I believe
I’m my Daddy made over

He gave me my stubbornness 
Gave me my pride
Gave me my temper
Taught me not to take crap
To speak my mind no matter who
Work for what I want
I’m my Daddy made over

How to keep my emotions in check
How to handle large amounts of pain
When in trouble he always had my back
He knew how my mind worked better than anyone
I got it from him
I’m my Daddy made over

Even though he’s gone
I’ll stand and continue on 
I may stumble I may fall 
May even get hurt along the way
But I’ll pick myself back up
I’ll dust myself off and stand tall
I’m honored and proud to say
I’m my Daddy made over


Sabrina Niday Hansel


______________________________________________________________________
Placed 1st in "Unsung Hero" 7/2014 contest
Also 3rd. in "Portrait of a Poet" 1/2014 


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

The Ship

The Ship

Foreshadowing the dusk, appeared immense,
magnanimous the skylines sent the ship,
its blackened sight embossed the thought and sense
of sailors that imagined its long trip.

The ship's black smoke ascended to the skies
from supercilious tall funnels, smog
bestowed its sacrificial offing size
to sovereign Gods that lived inside the fog.

In front of us, the ship's displacement thrilled
approaching, hence, magnificent the moors;
Her Soul, the Sea, and eulogy that killed,
relentlessly enticed, through dark allures.

The night descended when the ship's steel gaze
examined curious and measured me,
proposing wedlock and a fate of blaze,
my competence, demanding, in the sea.

Across the Straits, young Lady Sadness kissed
with ripping cold my twenty years and eyes,
resembling Her Soul, the Sea, amidst
the Northern winds that howled and life's demise.

© 10-15-2013, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic Pentameter)
G.V.


Details | Alliteration | |

THE LAST DAYS

The days seem to go by so fast. there is a void in the air, the birds have lost their vibrant beat, the ocean has lost its luster, the soil feels solid and dry.
 
My soul feels as if it has left my body before my death, my dreams haunt my day, the tears stain my steps, my doctor says that it is depression, I say that it is reality, I am intoxicated by society,I am numb by perscriptions.
 
Why do I feel so isolated within myself? is there no one in my painfully tight shoes? can anyone understand my pain? can anyone melt in my sorrows? why am I this way? why is the world so cruel? why can't I be normal?
 
Wait! I am normal, what am I saying, I know now, the veil has been lifted, humanity is my enemy, the sins that drip from their sweat, the dread that follows their shadows, their souls of black, their intentions of greed pull a shade across their eyes.
 
They are destined for doom, they will not be saved, they will not find salvation, they belittle me, they curse me, they shame me, but they are right about one thing, I am different, unlike them, I will be saved in the last days.


Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

The sweetest sounds of burning trees
A gentle stroking in the breeze
The calm has lasted past the storm
Cloudy visions, Satan’s roar
Too many sights have passed my way
A time found only in the haze
The softest screams are running bare
My aching bones creak as I stare

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark

The battle’s started at the end
No one is coming to repent
The sinners grab their wine from prey
No judgment calling here to stay
The sport is reckless to be told
The one is laughing at his souls
It falters nowhere to be sure
The power grows forevermore
Like a spirit in the wind
I have no say in where you’ve been 
But cross the line to come to me
And pay the price for ecstasy

You walk a distance towards me
The fall’s eternal, can’t you see?
I’m a memory in your heart
I whisper to you in the dark. 


Details | Epic | |

Woods of Evergreen


Woods of Evergreen

He knows the dance of lines at night, 
 and their expanding, wayward trip, 
convergent margins that unite
 the perils and the clip-ons' grip.

Defiantly the speed directs
 where once, per life, lines sternly meet, 
this trip's third destiny elects
 to make the skylines incomplete.

The scenes return to years before
 abstruse, night's ambit takes to where
the lines embellish this decor
 with his cognition's blue affair.

But who transforms converging states
 beyond the compass' distant knots, 
becomes a smile that far abates, 
 and his horizons' linking thoughts.

And those who dare to pass beyond
 their speeding dreams of years eighteen, 
their margins' arbiters, self-spawned
 become and woods of evergreen.

© 12-23-2013, G. Venetopoulos
(Iambic tetrameter)


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Archangel

Archangel

I sensed the dance of clouds and windy drawl,
fast moving marionettes of moonlight,
conceived they passed the crannies of the soul,
and intersected solitude forthright.

The dusk descended when 'Archangel' crossed
the sight of island men, remote like wraith
and huge the blackened ship's displacement bossed
the nautilus stunned stares and childhood's faith.

Monotonous the bagpipes led to trance,
- autonomous the ship's insistent horn,
invited us to some unworldly dance
the ship regaled; that stung our souls like thorn.

We danced inside the rain while ghost bag pipes
were interlaced by sea's baptismal notes,
- betrothal waved the blue and white flag stripes,
- like coffins cradled round the wooden boats.

Embarked were we, according to their song,
thence sailed infinity upon the brines,
tho' Harpies from the ghostly mists, along,
the Hades' treated us, communion wines.

© 05-14-2013, G.Venetopoulos
(Iambic Pentameter)


Details | Epic | |

Bull Horn Grip


The brave like Hawk descends the road, 
deep red his blood, wine potion brusque, 
while hidden eyes observe in dusk
the rugged man measure and bode.

The hours pass, consent to darkness; 
while stardom glows above his walk, 
unmarried maids of long mane talk, 
about his raw strength to egress.

The tavern's close at the dockside, 
where pipers play a steady mode, 
the fates weave his deathly abode, 
in starry Halls the stalwart guide.

A drink is life, full glass of grog, 
musicians render the pipes loud, 
the dim stars blink and a low cloud, 
covers the shore with shrouds of fog.

Monotonous the notes of pipers wield, 
the sweat drops drop from their foreheads, 
while Charon waits to spill the red, 
- steel bull horn blade of fine Sheffield.

Outside he steps, inside the mist, 
the maids weave, his life's spend thread, 
Persephone will be his wed, 
his bull horn Sheffield holds in fist.

© G.V.07-02-2012, All Rights Reserved


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Sheffield knife

Sheffield knife

We stood across the ship's black painted brim,
forever weak appeared the beacon's light,
the night imperfect seemed; the stars shone dim,
(moon-flash steel's curb and twinge of Sheffield knife).

The birds' were singing in the mauve of dawn,
notes resolution of communion's chrism,
the images back then, became my dome,
and Hades' kingdom glassy rainbow's prism.

Life ornamental was, fast to dissolve,
advancing wilt, recall of distant stare,
for none was this equation to resolve,
a wine's red spill, and stars' marquee of  prayer.

( I'll stay away from Aden's doleful coast
assuming that earth's blooming fields are mine,
upon the wharf a flash and I became a ghost,
a challenging recall and blade's bold shine -

- I do recall our sweetest Sunday feasts,
the teenage dreams and blue noon skies,
our bicycling along the shoreline's mists,
the nightly gatherings, our talks and smiles.)

© 04-29-2011, G.Vevetopoulos
(Iambic Pentameter)


Details | Sonnet | |

Crow II


He knows the fog that counts his steps tonight
So proud, the crow, stands on the wires, alone;
what made him bleed before the brinks of light,
defined by emptiness and mountain stone?

The fog surrounds the crow in early dark
what else deserved to be once more recalled
remained to warn the souls that stare and hark
"this shroud descends your being to enfold".

Ethereal, departs on his ascension trail,
stouthearted is his life's long path, my Lord;
the crow unfolds in white engulfing veil,
his stalwart wings on Mistral's wailing chord.

And infinite became his nightly flight,
above the cedars croaked his skyward rite.

© G.V. 06-11-2013 All rights reserved
(English sonnet)


Details | Ballad | |

rolled Durham smoke - Ballad


It transferred like bequest's constrain;
the ghostly harbor - my sixth sense,
men's goals had died, on lives' expense,
- this notion bothered me again.

Had sent the mail - my filed advice -
the ghosts of gunmen who have died,
on moors they stood yonside old pride,
- the Rider asked his deathly price.

In air he thumped, his rhythm - gust waves;
demanding cruel new death toll;
in town each woman wore black stole,
the 'killed in duel' dwell in graves;

The Rider hummed - our vessel moored
inside this port on Nueces' edge,
much red was shed on cypress sedge
- my instincts sharpened and inured.

Tall stood he on the wharf - I knew
the wind whipped ropes upon head-mast,
- we drew the guns; he lifted fast;
my two guns bucked debt-law to ensue.

I felt the slug - he moved across,
already-a-ghost, on moors he stood;
I tasted blood - got up - I should,
with red drops staining grass and moss.

I saw her standing on the field
amid red poppies and tall trees,
her thought became my holy shield,
bestowed thenceforth, her grace in breeze.

She spread her arms and called me eft,
above the clouds to Astral Halls
athwart stood gunman - fast and deft
in Tombstone, Mobile and Sioux Falls.)

I rolled and lit a Durham smoke
with children watching me round-eyed;
that March, (I thought), a gunman died,
I heard bells' knell and two crows croak.

© G.V. 07-18-2013
(Ballad - Iambic tetrameter)

Sponsor: Poet Destroyer A
Contest Name: Ballad (old/new)
Deadline: 12/28/2013


Details | Ballad | |

CIRCLES OF EAGLES

On sunlit wings 
I travelled 
High above the earth, 
in the realm of spiritual beings 

Mighty mountains 
and cool streams 
Azure oceans 
I live my dreams 
I live my emotions 

I am but a feather, 
beginning to fly 
My body 
My heart, 
carried high 

Clouds of purest snow 
Golden sun 
I passed below 

Another day, 
in the blue 
You could have it too 
Come up if you may 

Circles of eagles, 
in the blue 
You are all with me too 
High above, 
clouds of purest snow 
Together we flew 

Such love, 
in such golden light 
Circles of eagles, 
above clouds of purest white 

The higher I flew 
I met people I lost too 
My father, 
wings aglow 
Beside me, 
golden bright 
Circles of eagles 
High in the light 

A spiritual place, 
high above 
Touching space 
Such love, 
in golden light 
Circles of eagles, 
in flight 


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

A void of Facebook
Creativity dies here...
Procrastination!


Details | Munaajaat | |

Tell Me

I'm lost hurt and angry
Why did you take his life
I want, No I need to know
Tell me, Tell me why
I deserve to know

Haven't you done enough to him
What'd he ever do to you
He suffered his whole life
Suffered more than anyone deserved
Tell me, Tell me why you did it
I have a right to know

Why'd you let him born to them
Born to worthless parents
Parents who didn't care
They threw him away like garbage
Pawned him off on someone else
Tell me, Tell me why
Explain how you could do that

You gave him Polio
You let others treat him like disease
You took away the full use of his legs
You warped his hand and foot
Tell me, Explain to me why
I deserve to know

You let others think he was crazy
You let it go on for over year
You didn't stop it, Why
Tell me, Give me your reason
Answer me God, Help me to understand

You go and make matters worse
You gave him Cancer
You didn't give him a chance to fight back
You just jerked him away from us
Tell me, Tell me how
How you could be so cruel

How can others not question you
When others do it, It's murder
But when it's by your hand
It's your will, Their fate
Tell me, What makes you so different
Your no better than the demons knocking at the door

You heard me beg and plead
You know I'm not afraid to die
I was willing to carry it all for him
I was willing to take my Daddy's place
You didn't even let me say Goodbye
Tell me, Tell me why I couldn't take his place
Answer me God, you owe me that much



Spiritual


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Tug


The fog reminded him the winter's edge
how faster can the nightly riding be?
he felt the overthrow and painful sledge,
- the asphalt hit the rider departee.

The roar was heard amid the falling snow
the bike capsized - and hard he fell to slug,
across the never reached horizons' glow,
received her bridal kiss and asphalt's tug.

He danced with her beneath the nimbus cloud
- enjoining the magnificence of waltz;
bestowed, denoted valor, fore avowed,
ambrosial her remembrance was, and false.

Beforetime she became his fate in mists,
perceived their airy dance, surpassed treetops
lithe daughter of woods' emptiness, not kissed
on fares unvisited, where searching stops.

Inside the nimbus celebrating Halls
Collegiate was the feast's inviting dance,
trajectory redemptive, death-ride tolls,
- was thoughtful and cognizable her glance.

So standing tall 'mid honors and dusk shades,
recalled the margins that he raced upon,
three hundred for Persephone of Hades
to be his wed on skyline's denouement.

The bullocky V-engine echoes thence
and crowns the basalt rocks atop the brae
when riders pass and fog is hazy-dense
upon his street-bike-fighter see him sway.

© 09-04-2013, George Venetopoulos
(Iambic pentameter)


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

The Stork


The Stork

The ship arrived surrounded by the dew,
his past she carried on her seaward tracks,
across-the-board, the skyline turned up dark,
- a stork he was, comradely to her crew.

(Thus, curious, he stood upon the moors,
projecting epitome of their rejoice,
and stern, the sea-waves' hum repressed their voice,
enduring memory the dusk allures.)

A clever stork, with harbors in cahoot,
side-gazing for the sunken to discern,
perceived the sea-men deftness and concern,
applied the coloring of nightly soot.

The dusk abraded, hence, the ship's details,
still numbness of the gray; her spirit stared,
as his persistent, learning eyes had paired
with mind's perseverance, head-rope and brails.

The boats quizzical, around they tripp'd,
loose wooden cradle-coffins-like, astray,
companions lost beyond the clouds' array,
and signalizing waves, on moorings whipp'd.

( Their sacrosanct ascent designed the stairs,
for spotless angels to walk upon the blue,
like then, the stork recited what was true,
- a dark night ship, for his bird-story cares.

And then they fled to skies - two passing glows
that cut through distances, in ardent Spring
a song for wanderers, harmonic link,
- pure emeralds the shoreline-noon bestows. )

What foolishness of storks, invites the ship,
stray souls to marry in his darkened phase,
two ebon-funnels tall, with smoke they praise
our wraiths' long flight on everlasting trip?

© 09/25/2012, G. Venetopoulos, All rights reserved
(Iambic Pentameter)


Details | Blank verse | |

he is leaving home

                            
                  In great respect of the band I grew up listening to
                       as sure as Mom passed down Saturday Chores 
                      for I had been chosen to scrub bathroom floors `

                    Yet a familiar sound would bring me to keep scrubbing
                       The red album, The blue album , The White album 
                        Then .. Abbey Road , always remembering the sad look on
                  Ringo's face ,  something hard to understand underneath~
                       
                      I get it now, what you were saying all those years ago ,
                    the many sad lonely tears , secret tears , secret fears 
                    For Maxwell's Hammer was a real one . It wanted silence

                    Going back ..remembering when John Lennon died 
                      I was in Arkansas saddened with the world .
                      Then seeing his face saying " Drag isn't it " 
                      No .. this was not my hero in music and song .

                      he was a stand in hired William , he filled his shoes 
                      bringing diversity to create so much beautiful music from loss

                       One left standing , alone;; grief struck on back cover ~
                       The other identity hidden, tried to be part of ..coming together
                                                                                                                                                                        
                            his  world of secrets
                        He to suffers today , in fear , Faul~
                       
                        Too many years gone by .let us tell the Truth. Let us be free
                         The very sad long and winding Road ~
                         Let us Bury our real Paul. 

                         No more " Mystery tour "
                             No more fear 
                                Let him be in peace ~


           Inspired by " The Last Testament of George Harrison , Is Paul Dead ? "

                






Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Garage in Rain

Garage in Rain

I heard the sound of pistons and steel pipes
as checkered flags were drafting in the haze
beleaguering with carnal archetypes
the maid's chaînes-d'or had shone - I felt her blaze
- heard pipes in haze by Stingray Chevrolets.

Four hundred fifty cubic inches go,
three hundred ninety horses utter strong
she travels on the clouds where odds escrow
and tunes in the garage where cars belong
- the strong of motorists escrow along.

Garage on nimbus tunes the engine's block
gas stations of the sixties pump octanes
the best of driver ghosts and racing stock
shall be the winners of the sky's champagne,
- champagne, chaînes-d'or and engine-block in rain.

© 2015-02-04, All rights reserved 
(Iambic pentameter - Manassian Quintain)

Sponsor: craig cornish
Contest Name: Manassian Quintain
Deadline: 2/7/2015
Theme: Rain


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

in blue midair

in blue midair

It was the twenty first of January, and cold
a needling thin rain was fellow to my thought,
she stood across the mirroring of nightly mold,
continuous the icy raindrops fell, and wrought.

How argent the details became, tho' in my glance
two distant waxen lights saluted to entice -
- "behold my soul because the night's eluding dance
invites the gazing travelers to fade on ice."

And then my thought reshaped two passengers to pair
amid that solitude and needle-stinging rain,
details that spun life's gyroscopic lift, and flare,
across the road evolved to a melodic strain.

The rainfall was transformed to skyward route and mirth
concourse of invitations to absorb me from
perceived time's borderlands that mirrored my life's worth,
descending droplets hit upon the screens to thrum.

Continuum of silver flight, in blue midair,
beloved of winter she became, betrothal grace,
rain's queen enthroned she was across the night and fair,
her laughter fled above cold January's embrace.

© 08-18-2013, G. Venetopoulos
(Iambic hexameter)


Details | Epic | |

Alligator and the Bayou Boogie Band

  Alligator with fierce but captivating eyes sometimes red glare
  The Man with a title given by the High Priest of his Tribe 
  A man gifted at Birth for the World to be entertained by.
  Though much more then the Entertainer inside ~

  This Man a poet , a man of wisdom and power 
  Playing his cordless accordion or Guitar on the tiny Bar
  Powerful stares , people dancing crazy underneath a moonlit sky
  His trance , a spell on others , not to be denied 

  A Force stronger then you will know , be dared to reckon with 
  His name was given at birth for a reason , A Scorpio
  Legacy throughout Europe and deep woods in the Bayou 
  Alligator loved by many , playing Jimmy Hendrix to Zydeco 

  Alligator , the man on fire , women can not help but desire 
  In Monterey Bay, California, he plays , magical surprise 
  be warned if you go with date to see him  "Alligator " 
  At the end of your dancing to Zydeco and blues 
  your date will be in Trance , one glare into his eyes 
  she will be wanting He at the end of the night , your demise.


Details | Dramatic Verse | |

Our Invincible Defeat

The inner and the outer,
Are dissolving fast in space.
The ominous clouds of thunder,
Are covering your face.

The meek the mild and innocent,
Are trampled under feet,
As we go one marching blindly,
To our invincible defeat.

No more calling softly,
No more calling you,
We've lost our hope and loving,
What once we thought was true.

And now the choice is coming,
Riding on a wave,
To be a free man dying,
Or be a mad man's slave.

And now the drums are drumming,
Drumming down the line,
Will you be marching forwards?
Will you be deaf and blind?

Will the light of sacred meaning?
Shine from bottom of your heart?
As the soldiers go on marching,
Tearing our humanity apart.

more at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Rhyme | |

The Destruction of Mankind

The Destruction of Mankind!

Throughout the Bible’s history, you’ll find…
The wickedness and destruction
 of mankind!

There were kingdoms that have come and gone!
They took pride, and thought
 they were strong!

No matter how strong men make think they may be…
Everyone needs to make plans for their eternity!

There’s many things that people have enjoyed…
But. there’s coming a day when it’ll all be destroyed!

The Bible says that we all have failed and sinned!
What a terrible mess that we find ourselves in!

Our answer and only hope is with Jesus today!
Only he can wash the darkness and sin away!

Only he can bring a completeness to our soul!
And can bring all we need to make us whole!

May God’s Holy Spirit reach out and convict us!
That we all may know,
 only God can help us!


By Jim Pemberton