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Free Verse Easter Poems | Free Verse Poems About Easter

These Free Verse Easter poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Easter. These are the best examples of Free Verse Easter poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

Spring Showers

The Happy Field and Spring Shower Hand in hand, we fluttered like two butterflies among the fragrant flowers of the field and meandered, singing songs, along a stream. No agendas to keep to; no schedules to curtail the pure pleasure that we took in consuming every lovely hour of our Saturday. With our picnic lunch, we sat down on a blanket. Later we lay looking up at clouds. Transported to the wonderland of our imagination, we named them fluffy mountain ranges, bunnies, sheep, and Easter lily petals until they morphed into lopsided bearded faces, huge white polar bears and cotton-breathing dragons. Unexpectedly, the clouds grew dark, and suddenly, we saw and felt large raindrops splatter on our skin. We fled our happy field, arriving home - two children, wet and laughing, just as the spring shower let up. How were we to know in the springtime of our lives that the field and the rain from which we fled I’d one day write about as metaphors for youth. Written for the Spring Showers contest 3/30/13


Details | Free verse | |

Wood and Nails


After planking some wood,
I carried it across the yard,
two boards at a time upon my shoulders.

When I finished erecting the stack of wood,
she offered a refreshing sip from her cup
and nailed me harder than Jesus had been.

(the irony of the wood and nails didn't escape me)

I figure this to be a great tradition to uphold 
during the Easter holidays:

the wood and nails,
the resurr.erection,
riding a divine ascension into heaven
upon her thighs.


And on the third day
he rose again 

and again.






03.22.2013



*This is referring to the hybridization of Easter as decreed by Constantine,
and the pre-existing Ishtar celebration of sex and fertility.
Ishtar is the root-origin of the word: Easter.

If you were to ask me, I'd say that Constantine attempted ruining a good thing.
It is one of my many life goals to help resurrect feel-good Pagan celebrations such 
as the Ishtar Spring Festivities.

If one has a willing lover, this celebration is easy to partake in,
and can be most pleasurable: simply plank some wood and start nailing.
A sustained rhythm is highly advisable when engaging in a good session of nailing. 



Happy Ishtar/Easter Holy Days!



+


Details | Free verse | |

Adopted

Why do I lie to you
dearest mother,
macho pop?

Hmmm,
let me think;

Santa Clause has a beard;
yea right,
not in my house!

The Easter bunny
gives out eggs?
yea right,
stolen from
the chickens
now I’m paying for the
crime!

The tooth fairy gives you
what?
yea right,
isn’t that the dollar you gave me
last night!

I was what !?


Details | Free verse | |

What Easter meant for us

I want to write a poem about Easter for you Lord
Easter is a special Day
A day that you had died for us and were raised from the dead
A day when one’s sins are forgiven once they believe in You
And accept You as their Savior
A day where one becomes new as you raised from the dead
So he or she is raised from the spiritual death
A day to celebrate Life –the Eternal Life
Your Life, our Life
Life is possible only after you obeyed and followed your Father’s  will
Life is possible only after you endured the pain and gave up your life
It’s because of You that we now can be with you and have Life - eternal
The sacrificial Lamb
Because of You Jesus, our sins are forgiven and we are perfect in God’s eyes
Because of You, we can enjoy the life here now on earth and then will too in Heaven
We are new creations –our old ones are gone
We are free
No longer bound to sins and death
Because of You, nothing can touch us
We are separated by the Blood of the King
Because of You, we received our healing in advance
You paid with your life for us at Calvary
God did not forsake You
Just like He did not forsake us 
And sent You to take our place
Thank you Jesus for what you’ve done
Died in our place – You who have no sins
Became sins for us
Jesus, that is what Easter meant for us
Indebted to you Lord
Forever our Rescuer, Redeemer, Deliverer
Savior
Forever Our greatest King


Details | Free verse | |

Humanity

Translation:

Humanity

And so here I am
and here I see myself in white,
my skin -a midnight snowfall
where no one can stain me
with their footprints, their black footprints.
And so here I am alone.
The dawn sings to me uninhibited,
she sings of the kisses of the sun in the morning,
of the soft swaying of the stars,
their dances, their fiery weddings.
And so she sings to me in a still, small whisper,
with it she leaves me breathless,
the weight of the secrets of ages
fills up my mouth with ashes
that taste like the grave.

My tongue has become 
the voice of the ancients.
And I am alone
but I don't feel alone. 
Their fingers diffuse,
spreading out across my eyelids,
the dead resurrect like the sun 
in my eyes. 

And their wisdom in my face is a tombstone;
in my body, an Easter Sunday.

They fold in the wrinkles of a beggar woman.
They flow like tears from the open mouth of the sky.
They are sparks in the memory of children.
They hold together the stones of the Pyramids
and fill the cracks in the bones of the mountains.

And in truth our feet 
begin to decompose,
to unite with the roots of the world.
And in truth we are alone
but we don't feel alone.

We carry knowledge in ivory,
mystery, forgotten nostalgia. 
In our veins runs the blood
of warriors,
in our lungs
the words
of God. 


Details | Free verse | |

What Easter means to Me

As I sit and reflect on this Easter Sunday.
Many things pass through my mind.
As I see Christ hanging on the cross, 
knowing HE laid down his life for me.
So my life is, entrusted to thee.
He died, he rose, so new life began
I know you suffered on the cross
to deliver us, giving us eternal life.
You suffered so that I may live.
What more honor could you bestow
on me ,one of your sheep, saving me,
through your mercy, through your grace.
The promise of everlasting life.


Details | Free verse | |

Come Spring

Pods appear upon the sprigs of green reaching skyward 
covered in early morning dew.
Soft yellow petals open and fold down forming a blanket 
upon which the trumpet center will rest.
The sun shining down on the daffodils give a feeling of 
daintiness to the flowers.
One of the most beautiful flowers seen swaying in the 
spring breeze.

A sign that spring is indeed bursting at the seams to be 
born again.
As the spring season arrives and Easter approaches the 
daffodils will be in full bloom.
The trumpets reaching to the sky in a wonderful display 
of beautiful colors.
Again year after year these precious flowers return to us
once more to admire.

Entry for "Ten Minutes Tops" contest of P.D.
Written by Carol Brown
10th Place Winner


Details | Free verse | |

April's Angel

Sister, you left me without saying goodbye
And lived your life in a wink and a sigh
Born in the spring with a short season to give
I lost you in the fall leaving a long winter to outlive
 
You taught me love and held me close in my grief
I'm wishing we had never put our faith in false belief
Nothing could harm us as we sought out love
When you were gone, something I could barely speak of

I miss your presence even more today
On your birthday, this Easter Sunday
I have only to hope and pray
And wonder about the woman you would have become
Lend me your strength not to succumb

To sadness, yet whisper to me to go on and grow
So I carry you with me wherever I go
You're there in my dreams and never really apart
Now you can finally take flight and know heaven's heart
You are my April angel that will never depart

 


Details | Free verse | |

Conspiracy: Who Killed The Easter Bunny

A crowded table, all suspended in shock 
The sound of the shot dimming to a ‘knock’
Only silence, except for the marching clock
The weapon still smoking; an anonymous glock
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

Loud cries arise from the elongated table,
Jack Frost is shocked, the Tooth Fairy unable
To speak whilst Santa is checking the stable
For clues on the erstwhile maidservant Mable
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

They searched for hours, called in C.S.I,
Panic set in, would the children all cry?
Sandman confirmed the bunny had died
Batman suspected somebody had lied
WHO KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY?

Guests were quizzed, interrogations began
The mystery unfolded when Santa Claus ran,
Grabbing the pies, he tried escaping in a van
But was stopped in his tracks by superman
SANTA KILLED THE EASTER BUNNY!


Details | Free verse | |

Beach

swishwhirling
sand burns on the skin but you
find relief nearby


Details | Free verse | |

What Easter Means To Me

__________________________________________


As spring joyfully arrives
brilliant blue skies and vast green fields come to life

peering from the rich soil 
an Easter Lily opens with beauty

with large white trumpet shaped flowers
and gracious green stems climbing high

the music of the lords returned began to blow
streaming far and wide

a celebration had begun 
a celebration of eternal life
 
I gaze at the cross in deep loving thought 
as each miraculous miracle came to light

O' Lord God Almighty
this day brings gratitude and thanksgiving
for you..... staying faithful to the point of death
and giving your life, so that each may dwell divine

I thank you Lord
I thank you

peering from the rich soil
an Easter Lily sings praise


__________________________________________

CONTEST


Details | Free verse | |

What Easter Means to Me

There he stood, the Son of God and man His looks was average; like ordinary men Messiah in our presence! Yet, so few believed In spite of amazing miracles none of which had been seen before I tried to move a bit closer; away from the throng Was allowed no entry within the Governor’s gates Yet, I could see through the tall, marble columns He stood still; silent and regal just as a king The enemy smirked as he hung amongst the crowd; and thought he had won Predictably, pride once more would preempt his game My Lord in humility remained, though sadness and pain reflected in his eyes All alone, he faced accusing tongues and yet, he gave no response Dead silence hovered within the Prefect’s tall gates as he queried ‘Are you King of the Jews?’ My Lord replied, ‘It is as you say.’ Caiaphas and others, ruled by ego, it seemed, became bitterly enraged! Deadly pride indwelled; self assured, none thought to pray for discernment He was beaten and mocked; he was boldly spat upon The one who cleanse the lepers, and revived some long dead Not in secret were these miracles performed; but in the presence of multitudes Some with eyes could not see, and the darkness cast shadows of deeper doubt He was crowned with thorns; a mockery; made to bear the massive cross And as he passed before me, silent tears flooded my eyes What am I that he should suffer bitter humiliation and death on my account? I was on the road to Hell and Eternal Love has come to rescue me! As he hung upon that wooden cross, captivated by numbness, was I He cried, ‘It is finished!’ Then death lost its hold- the veil, forever torn! In the deepest level of Hades, the enemy cowered as he hides For again he has failed.. Purest Love has overcome ultimate hate ~*~
For Gwendolyn's "What Easter Means to Me" Contest 3/26/11


Details | Free verse | |

Work

Work.
Toil.
The pain I put in the ground.
For such a precious thing.
Corn. 
The family enjoys their meal.
They plant their leftover kernels.
And wait for me to tend to them.
Work. 
An endless cycle in which happiness is born.


©Demand4poetry
21 February 2013


Details | Free verse | |

Watcha wanna do Janie Doe

Hey there Janie,last name Doe...
tell me baby,where ya wanna go?
maybe for a ride feel the wind in your hair,
maybe the nearest park,or an old country fair?

May I suggest,we take the fastest jet
fly overseas,to the sights the old world set,
climb Peru,spend the night at Machu Pichu
talk all night under starlight and o-o-hhh...

Then let's fly to Maui,hold hands and kapowie
kick alittle surf alittle sand then you can WOW me,
jump into a dugout and paddle to Easter Island
sit with the Mo'ai and watch those sunsetting strands,
maybe even imagine what those statues see
share some philosophy,at the ocean of dreams...

Then let's jetset,walk the sands of the Middle East
camel caravan to Petra,enjoy an ancient feast,
walk the Giza Pyramids,pretend to be King and Queen
lounge along the Nile amongst shady papyrus reeds,
visit all those ancient symbols waiting to be decoded
we should do it now before time eventually erodes it,
maybe discover an altogether different meaning
maybe uncover ancient secrets and new learning...

Then let's walk,the jungles of Angor Wat-her
taste some of Arabia,Persia,India and Indonesian fare,
let's visit the Philipines,that's where my family is from
enjoy their island generosity,and do alittle some-some...

So heythere Janie Doe...
watcha wanna do...where ya wanna go,
as long as we're together,it's always our show...









Details | Free verse | |

'Unquestionable Worth'


Imagine what life would be like
if our worth were determine by man

if our mistakes were a barometer of our worth
our favour would run hot and cold
like a see-saw through each day

each breathe we took would be a struggle
the one thing we do without thinking
would be so difficult to achieve

but we've been blessed beyond our imagination 
because even in our darkest hour
even when we are down in the valley

God sees our worth
His Son chose to die for us
He declared; she is worth the sacrifice
He declared; he is worth the sacrifice

when in doubt,
when we feel unloved
we need to focus on the cross

God thought we were worth the sacrifice then

He still does; even today


©135827032013


Details | Free verse | |

Three days Saved

It's been nine years, I have counted the tears-
  they have made trails of guilt
  worried into my heart 
  then filled with loneliness and bitter despair
but by your grace I have been shown...

For the first time, in these nine years, I have not wept
  nor held a vigil to honor our grief
though the loss still burns, this time it is transformed

Peace from your love still reaches through death
  and through your eternal love I am reborn
  
 It is Good Friday. 
When God took your spirit home
  and left me dying to know,
  how to love him for his sacrifice
  when he asked me to give up you?
How do I heal this death and rise with you in his arms?

Through your love I was born, and in your arms I grew
 and it has been your love the kept me whole
 that taught me how to be reborn
    for even though your body has gone
    your words lost in the wind and breath no more
The essence of grace and strength you lived
- it grows still in your daughter soul

My being and existence came from your womb
  my heart and mind shaped by your enlightenment
I have lived a life you gave me and for once
   I live it in pride to honor your sacrifice
your words giving me the guidance I'd lost nine years ago.

Alas, I've come to know, that as you died
  and went home with our Lord, you saved me from my death
not in your dying, my grief and love can attest,
    but in your living strength and loving example
       you showed me how to live a life
             open to our Father's gift

We knew it would not wait, but the parting was too fast.
I sat in thought three days before your sleep and asked,
"In three days time my savior died, I wonder hence
   what of my soul will rise with his?"

And now sitting Easter morning, 
  holding my sons candy-filled basket,
I realized Three days passed.

  He took you home Friday morn, but left me love,
that eternal love that never dies
whose comfort is unending

I honor your love by giving it to my children
         and Easter morning I felt your hug, your kiss, and knew 
                                 you have never left me
.
Though God took you home Mom
I know you have never left me
for as our Savior died and rose
you too still live in my heart, 
showing me proof our Father's blessings

    because you, my love, are my soul and all ready there
there fore I am strong enough to give this pain up 
       to honor his sacrifice and transcend,
           to be humbled by the grace and mercy
          that could forgive such lost lambs as I


Details | Free verse | |

HAPPY EASTER POETRY SOUP FRIENDS

 May each of you have a joy filled Easter in remembrance of the ressurection of our Lord and loving Savior, Jesus Christ! God bless you all and keep you enveloped in His great Love and Mercy forever. -love Bob D


Details | Free verse | |

Death Where is Thy Sting

Death where is thy sting, Oh grave where is thy victory?

Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of His saints.
The Bible tells us this in the book of Psalms, Chapter 116, verse 15.
As a clear picture it paints.

Everyone looks at death in a different way
Some believe that death is an end to all existence, so they say.

Christians believe that death will bring them from one life on this sod.
To a life of Heavenly bliss with their Eternal God.

In other words to be absent from the body,
is to be present with the Lord God Almighty.

When someone dies, we should realize that they will only be absent for awhile.
Then remember our hope and be happy and smile.

For they have fought their battle already anyway
And no longer on this sinful earth do they have to stay.

Remember that Jesus conquered death at Easter time.
That He chose to die to save all of mankind.

But death didn't keep Him in the tomb you see.
He conquered it and rose the third day to set us free.

As in Adam all men shall die. even so in Christ shall all be made alive.
The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death and then we will all thrive!!!!!!!

*DEATH


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EASTER MORN

EASTER MORN – from the chap book,
From Childhood, by Dave Austin

Wake up! -
    overnight – soft bunnies
    yellow chicks
    crawling the bed covers -
Brain    an eggshell
In an old, stained tea cup

Wake up!
Bright, white Easter morn -
Silent bells toll invitation to the hunt

The bowl of eggs is gone,
Table strewn with dyes.
Cottontails climb the walls
Before my very eyes

One nest right in sight
Fuzzy-spills its sides -
Candy beans
Blue egg dried

SHOUT!

Mom in housecoat,
Dad in terry robe,
They’ve heard.
Brother? Sister? Still asleep.
I shrug, eat a loaded chocolate bird

SHOUT!

I’ve found a nest on top the piano,
Another on the fireplace mantle.
I break a blue egg’s shell -
Careless of the face, lovingly traced.

SHOUT!

Cries to wake the dead,
I should care.
Joy loves company.
Wake sister, brother
That all might share.

Oh, to rise on a feathery Sunday’s morn,
Break colored shells,
Eat chicks before they’re born.







Details | Free verse | |

Good Morning Surprise

I step into the frigid air
To gather up the morning news
A long eared rabbit startles me
A maverick rascal breaking fast
One last dash upon the lawn
In his mouth a garden bloom
Through the fence, and down the road
Making haste, without excuse

To fields of barley, and fields of loam
Thunder-blue are lupines bold
Standing oak trees, proud and tense
Dressed for parades of scrambling feet
On Easter morning's golden dawn

He scurries home by sheer routine
In bunny slippers, softly made
I shuffle back into my den
I smile and watch the rascal go
He had his fun, and I have too

The window frames the early sun
Morning coffee perks again
Let the cat out, read the news
Discard the worry, eat the food
I had a laugh, as well I should
Drink the day, and digest the good



________________________
For Carol Brown's Contest: Bunny Rabbits
 2/28/12


Details | Free verse | |

The Colors Of Mercy

The Colors Of Mercy What is the color of mercy? The color of mercy is the color of the bricks, where JESUS walked on the path of sorrows. What is the color of mercy? It is the brown thorns of the crown that JESUS wore on his head. What is the color of mercy? It is red - the blood that JESUS bled for our sins. What is the color of mercy? It is the color of the cross that JESUS carried to His crucifixion. What is the color of mercy? It is the whitest white that you have seen, when JESUS cleans you of your sin. Those are the colors of mercy. They are the most beautiful colors - that JESUS showed us, on the day He died for our sins...
03/31/2014 Written by Lucila M. Carrillo


Details | Free verse | |

Three Days Hence

It's been seven years, I almost forgot-
not this day: but the distance we've climbed.
I couldn't remember my age, because it correlates
to years we've been apart.

I forgot to be apprehensive, this time it was sneaky.
It waited for the first happy holiday wishing
from some idiot to remind me.
   It was Good Friday. 
When God took your spirit home
and left me dying to know,
how to love him for his sacrifice
when he asked me to give up you?
How do I heal this death and rise with you in his arms?

I blasphemy, I know, but you loved him more
in sight of you that graceful place grows
pale in and foreign in mine eye.

Alas, I fail the test, I could not be as strong as you.

We knew it would not wait, but the parting was still to fast.
I sat in thought three days before your sleep and asked,
"In three days time my savior died, I wonder hence
what of my soul will rise with his?"

And sitting easter morning, 
  holding some idiots well wished basket,
I realised Three days passed.
  He took you home and left me lost on Friday morn,
I wailed my loss through Saturdays more,
         and Easter morning I felt your last hug, your kiss good bye.

I cursed my self for asking, if my soul would rise with his,
    because you, my love, are my soul and all ready there
there fore I am not strong enough to give this pain up 
       to honor his sacrifice and transcend, I sit still lost and wonder:

I believe and I love, but I don't know how to rise
I don't now how to live again. 
Faith crushed I don't think I can trust.
I am the shell of your grace trying once more 
to live in the love that failed me, as I failed the gift of his sacrifice.


Details | Free verse | |

Easter Eggs

The shelves groan with the weight
just as tummy's will soon complain
an overload of chocolate eggs
some plain and quite simple

Others are highly coloured
and some are quite huge
these made of milk chocolate
those are dark and plain

Children's eyes on bean stalks
as excitedly they choose
and then oh so impatiently
await for Easter Sunday

Then up to the hills
it is time to roll eggs
hard boiled and decorated
a prize for the best looking

All lined up and ready
the eggs are sent
down the hill they tumble
which one will win?


Details | Free verse | |

Ascension

His spirit took flight

Like a snowy white dove

With the sun on its wings.

It flew toward the clouds

And disappeared

Leaving only a breath of

Wonder in its wake.


© 2013 Connie Marcum Wong

Happy Easter to everyone!


Details | Free verse | |

By His stripes I am healed

By His stripes I am healed
By His blood I am washed
I am a new creation
And forever I am free

Wash me in your spirit
Purge me from my sin
Take away the shame I feel.
And bring me into peace

Cleanse me from all wrong
Thoughts and attitudes
Cleanse my body, make me whole
Wash me clean with your power

Make me the child who can be taught
Who is willing to be led
Let me eat of the living word
And truly well be fed

Let your healing flow through me
And touch another heart
Show your loving grace through me
And let them truly see

You are the son who sets them free
When in faith they bend the knee
You have come to give them life.
And give them all eternity


Details | Free verse | |

IF IS NOT A WORD

late at night i close my eyes and imagine our life all over

to start i'd erase all the times i made you cry

and then all the things i said to hurt you

i'd take back the pain and the emptiness

that i left you all alone with

for sure i'd rewind the lies and betrayel

fast forwarding through all the abuse

i'd replace the items and money i stole from you

even buy you new shoes

i'd turn your frown upside down and leave you with a permanant smile

take you out on the lake and keep you laughing

until we both fell asleep 

i'd grant your wishes to all come true despite how outregeous

and place a dollar under your pillow every time you were extra good

i'd pay attention to all your worries never saying that your stupid

i'd hold your hand and kiss your cheek and always make you feel safe

when the storm comes into town and the thunder begins to roll

i'll hide you under the covers and help you count to ten

we'd watch fireworks and hunt for easter baskets 

bake cookies for santa claus

all this and more i'd do for you if i'd had one more chance

pretend will become real and the past will never haunt us

life will leave us with inner peace

not regrets or bitterness

(if my mother was alive i know this is what she would be wishing for her and me)


Details | Free verse | |

Incanto In Furnace by Daunting Allegory

Aeneas crept into the depths
of the underground, upright
he stepped
darkly
as dead roses pressed
and she wept
(Persephone)
in the pit
(indemnity)
where shadows slept
bellowing
as bellows sing
so readily
below those mourning bells that ring
burrowed
'neath the death of Spring
borrowed
from the breath we breathe
burroughs
of departed greed
ennui ennui ennui I scream
wake up! this hell is not a dream
and all is eaten as it feeds
and everything is as it seems
and everything is vanity
as Ashteroth to Easter bleeds
calamitous insanity
the bedlam that Pandora breeds
and Neptune drowned himself in seas
abysmal king of dead seaweeds
the pit is dank and dark and deep
and filled with those of restless sleep
and as the riddle of the Sphinx
shows that time is entropy
just as chains are naught but links
our DNA, life's tapestry
unweaves itself unto deceit
stranding us in furnace heat
like the Rich Man full of thirst
as is the last so was the first


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Ugly Little People

What do you think this means, son it means your a no one just another from the gutter who wants to smother me to get his rocks off and so it goes on I guess its so, huh? I guess I am just so cool everyone just wants to know one thing, and I don't care (he's way beyond whats going on here) its all dark and gloomy outside might as well weather into silence ain't noboy got no time for violence it rarely touches me words that seldom hurt like a car accident, suddenly a barrier, and an exit when I don't like it here, except for the rare true kindness that still makes me cry and its my own beauty that reminds me I'm human even if my soul is no longer in tact for the devil to tow and his little satans prodding me, like a cow not reacting, for now I know, the wisdom and skill inside me grows like the sickness in your little ugly person shell like the many hopeless headed to hell welcome to my spiritual playground


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Jonquils

It is time Too long in bed I stretch Cast off the bonds of Hypnos Cold white sheets retreat I am free My head lifts Sun caresses my face I rise, standing tall Naked for all to see Beauty reborn It is spring


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Presence of Easter

    Coming upon the Easter sunrise
        there comes a secret spirit
           a home, more stable, than the month before
              snuggled deep in the heart of the springtime grass
                It is more than the chocolate and pastel eggs
                  or a breakfast of waffles on a bright Sunday morning

                     More than a dress, or a new pair of shoes
                      or voices in church singing "...Alleuhia"

                         Even more than a ball game, in a big front yard
                          and cars driving up the long driveway
                            Three families
                              three cars
                                children piling out
                                    noise and laughter, ham, baskets, smiles, and hugs
                                       gratitude and joy

                      'Christ The Lord Has Risen Today'...and again, again, and again...
                                  although,  it is evident that the spirit.....
                                        has never been far
                                           away

                                          ~



For Linda Marie's Contest
By Carrie Richards


Details | Free verse | |

Easter

Easter Easter is ever so beautiful. It was meant to be just so. For as our Lord Jesus rose to glory… The plants do follow in his fold. Springs beauty is likened to heaven… As it was promised in stories of old. And all the tender plants … Show our souls how to unfold. Growing toward the light, an ever present goal… Reminds us in life, what we should be searching for. Spring is like heaven brought down upon this earth To remind us of God’s promise in Jesus… Waiting in our hearts and souls For the Son's light and warmth to bring it forth.
Contest Easter Inspirations: CSEastman


Details | Free verse | |

HOW THE WOOD STORKS BROKE MY HEART

Afternoon, late March, delivering promise
of downtime from errands, long lines at the post,
queues of cars at stoplights, what, if anything, is in
the pantry for supper.  A glass of wine is nice, will suffice
against the mind's continuous monolog, news of unrest
in distant lands, world hunger, and men on South
Africa's wild coast who believe raping small girls
will cure them of their AIDS.  For respite, I turn
to the wood storks and two world-class pines, sending
a blessing of straw and symmetrical cones into protective 
lake growth, sealing its borders with a scrim
of airy viridian; birthright of sea birds seeking evening 
asylum.  So, what to do about an invasion of enormous
jaws that take no prisoners on a battlefield of buzz saws?
Machetes, felling pines, wild shrubs, and indigenous
palmettos with which landscapers decorate yards
of costly homes.  Development, Progress, New
Construction?  Words to glamorize rape of wetlands.
The storks are flying away, now, from across the lake,
where once in heart-stopping numbers they bivouacked
against the advent of night.  This day, this hour,
they take wing, bird by bird in a ghostly exodus,
taking their "Reflection of nearly all light
from all visible wave links," purer than masses
of lilies on an Easter grave.


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Easter Celebrations

The days of Easter, come and go,
Religious memories in a book known as the bible.

Jesus our chosen teacher and companion,
To remember him each year.

He has taught me so much,
His many wise sayings.

Forgiveness perhaps the most difficult to comprehend,
God's son a saviour and model for mankind.

Easter we celebrate him born again,
Decorate our tables with colourful eggs in Easter baskets.

The Easter bunny is a favorite companion,
Blessings for parents and children.

God generous and kind,
A good friend to mankind.


Author: Gwen Meyer-Erlach Schutz


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True Meaning of Easter Time--and Day

Easter Time... and day... 
This is shown in many ways
Some celebrate it... by an Easter bunny
Tis funny 
How the world man-made... 
To distract Our Lord's Day

True meaning of Easter Time and Day
Tis God made a way... For all of Us to be Saved

Tis the day.. Our Lord and Savior
Was Crucified.. On the Cross
Nails driven in both hands and feet
Blood dripped down.. From thorns of a crown
That the soldiers placed on His head
They killed Our Lord.. Sword threw His side
Yes.. Our Precious Lord.. Jesus died.. 

Then the Earth Shook
Moment Jesus took
All our sins-suffering- disease -pain-away
Then three days
Our Beautiful Savior Raised
Jesus Our Divine Christ
Raised up from the dead
Save Our Souls... giving Eternal Life

Resurrected... for us to become redeemed from our sins
We have the opportunity to become Born-again
All God asks... of us is to believe 
What His Only Begotten Son... had done
To whomsoever believes shall not perish 
But have Everlasting Life
With Our Savior Jesus Christ
Live in Eternity... Forever

As we know... this world shall pass away
But Our Savior Shall Live on Forever

The ways of this world
Don't want anyone to know
The Truth... in Easter Time... Day... 
For Tis then those whom has eyes to see
Hearts to believe... 
Shall become saved... Born-again
Their Souls then... Live Eternally with Him
Jesus Christ... Our Divine King

Come to Jesus
While there is still time

God Bless... May God Forgive me
For I myself am a sinner... 
We all are sinners and come short of Glory of God

Love always yours in Christ 


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Vernal Equinox, Spring Begins

Spring begins as a spring, the roads shining wet, the earth desultory floats the water as 

the lawns are pricking green welcoming the Spring. At dawn the birds chatter with delight 

at the worms' awful plight while commuters mutter imprecations to one and all as if 

weather lore will do for us all, until they remember the Easter holiday that still seems so 

far off as the weather seems to be spoiling our lot.  


Snow shovels the warm dry sunny weather we had for over a week far away as it reminds 

us of its power to be bloody awkward of its own accord. 


In Spring we all fancy a smile that is not wry and weather to warm our bodies and souls 

after a grotty winter. Let us Hope! 


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Spring summer

~ Where should I start this poetic trace? ~

Supple summer, season scene
Takes off coats and welcome warmth
And tranquil under soften sky.

Spring 'O' Spring precedence over summer...
Summer host long light evenings,
Carol patterns and seldom pit-a-pat.

Fertile season, holder of juicy jubilee
Easter burners' night, palm Sunday pedestrian...
And good Friday chorus.

March-to-October, love you so much.

~ Hope I am not missing out? ~ 

Lol.

Dedicated to the lover of the above poetic summer season.


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A Young Boy's Easter

In a black morning, hollowed
   with eggshell delicacy...not fragile, simply gentle
    with dark chocolate skies....a pajamaed
     ten year old, with a six year old's excitement
      up at five a.m., with his basket ready
       to search out candy eggs

A dew kissed morning, the blossom of an Easter sunrise
     Rising to greet a family,... a father, a mother, a brother, a sister
        A house blessed with a spirit of His presence
           So richly apparent, in polished shoes, combed hair, Sunday dress
               
                In hard boiled colored eggs, chocolate rabbits hidden in green grass
                      eating baked ham and scalloped potatoes
                          assorted aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents

                            Being allowed to eat his candy
                               providing he ate
                                  at least
                                    one piece
                                         of broccoli.


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untitled

Thanksgiving at Easter time,
Walking days in sunny climbs,
Slowly shift the winds
Yet breezes music finds my face.


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My God, How It Hurts

My God, How It Hurts

We have forgotten
How dangerous is this man
Refusing not to do miracles
Abjuring not to love
Going beyond His mother's pain
Beyond being a good son
To do the Father's will.

We have forgotten
The depth of evil
He allowed to drench Him
Bleed and bruise Him
Beyond all human endurance
Gleefully denying Him
For whom He was born to be.

We have forgotten
The love of the Father
So fully developed for us
He had to turn away
At that moment on the cruel cross
When God-given life
Was given up.

We have forgotten
How dangerous is this man
Whose love was more than life
This Son of God
Whose promise to us meant so much
That He shrugged off death
And He arose.

by E. Marshall Evans


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A Young Boy's Easter (re-post)

In a black morning, hollowed
   with eggshell delicacy....not fragile, simply gentle
      with dark chocolate skies
         a pajamaed, sleepy ten year old 
           with a six year old's excitement..
             up at five a.m....with his basket ready
                to search out candy eggs

A dew kissed morning, the blossom of an Easter sunrise
    which rises to greet a family....a father, a mother, a brother, a sister
        a house blessed with a spirit of His presence
           so richly apparent, in polished shoes, combed hair, Sunday dress

               In hard boiled colored eggs, chocolate rabbits, jelly beans..
                   baked ham, scalloped potatoes, fruit salad, homemade shortcake
                      assorted aunts, uncles, cousins, grandparents...

                          Being allowed to eat his candy
                             providing he ate
                                 at least
                                    one piece
                                        of broccoli.


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Father forgive them

I came to set the captives free 
I gave them a chance to see me
But they got it wrong, didn’t hear
The wonderful truth I came to share
Father forgive them they know not what they do

I tried to tell them the truth about love
But they shut their ears and walked away
Afraid of what this love would entail.
So they set out a plan to bring me down
Father forgive they know not what they do.

When Judas came with massed arms troupes
And on my face he placed his kiss.
They took me away and put me on trial.
They mocked me and beat me and said I must die
Father forgive them they know not what they do

When they led me away to the hill of death
And stuck cruel nails in my hands and feet
When they lifted my cross high in the sky
And jeered and taunted the king of the Jews
Father forgive them they know not what they do

As my hour draws near and darkness descends
The man next to me speaks his final plea
You are the son of God and when you’re in heaven
Please Lord please remember me
Father forgive them for they know not what they do

The sky grew darker and the pain increases
I now will take the whole sin of the world
This weight it engulfs me like a cloak.
My father’s eyes in sorrows turn away
And all I can say is father forgive them

The story of Easter is very well known 
And we marvel at Jesus for the words that he said
BUT WHAT WILL YOU DO NOW IT’S OVER AND DONE
How will you respond to this wonderful love?


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Easter Day, Spring Day

                                      Did you get a buzz 'cus it is Easter Day
  
                                      or would you like to go far, far away?

                                      There is so much hype as the world 

                                      still turns its conflicts and wars; its 
                             
                                      lack of liberty, equality, solidarity too, 

                                      yet hope lies in the human breast

                                      whether one is led by Him who does  

                                      best; whatever one believes or no, 

                                      a holy Easter, a happy Spring to you. 


                                         



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electing the new pope

electing the new pope (conversation between two cardinals)

christian child molester with “holy” guise #1:

“psst…has joey been locked up
in the cage (vatican)?  has he been
put in a safe place where he can’t be heard,
where his senile ramblings won’t reveal
how many little boy’s that we’ve
raped & molested?”

christian child molester with “holy” guise #2:

“yes, i think he’s done with his waving &
tearing eyes, he has done his last 
praying hands, he has been shuffled off 
somewhere where he won’t be found out.”

christian child molester with “holy” guise #1:

“has he been cleaned up?  i mean, is all
the evidence gone?  we don’t want any traces
of the little boy’s DNA, we don’t want it 
getting out that joey was just like the rest of
us.”

christian child molester with “holy” guise #2:

“i understand.”

christian child molester with “holy” guise #1:

“i certainly hope you understand, because we have
to get another old shriveled up, white haired,
babbler up there quick, before easter you know.”

christian child molester with “holy” guise #2:

“certainly.”

christian child molester with “holy” guise #1:

“because you know the catholics of the world can’t
be without their little figurehead on their little
day of illusions…”

christian child molester with “holy” guise #2:

“of course not.  we wouldn’t want that! (laughing)”

christian child molester with “holy” guise #1:

(laughing with him) “the herd needs a shepherd, or they
might start think for themselves & toss out the whole 
thing.” 


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BEYOND THE GLASS

Beyond the glass that holds my breath,
Autumn’s bright world has been wounded — 
Both nature and the markers of man
are wrapped in cold layers of gauze
as still and white as the fingers of death.

The deciduous are holding a vigil,
Elm prays with a shivering maple,
Their frail branches barely touch.

From distant chimneys, 
Escape long, thin sighs of smoke,
Each slightly calling to the horizon,
Gently, ever so gently poking,
For the sun resists its rising,
It appears, but sleep is in its eyes.

The wind keens against the pane,
A sound that quivers with unquiet.

Humanity, no different from beast,
Slumbers in caves, unwilling to leave,
Save for those with mouths to feed.

Sipping from a cooling mug,
Fighting a feeling of being confounded,
I watch and listen at winter’s bedside,
Let commissary shift, empathy tug.

From the roof an icicle begins to bleed,
See, how the pathways have narrowed,
Drifts have spread their maddening disease,
The sweet gleam of yuletide sadly recedes,
And while I touch the frost on the sill,
I think of rosehip and sage and yarrow,
Revoke the echo of a cleansing rain,
Then recall that Easter will heal all again.


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Chicago

Rain drop, 
Only one now.

A wish which
The Easter Rabbit
Cannot undo.

The wick stale
and smokey.

and I alone
found your 
house. 

I was once a priest.
A prophet,
Trying to convert you. 

We didn't need a
Translator. 

The again, if 
I find you I will
hold you underneath
the river. 

Until you drown.


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Still a Way to Pray

It is for me to watch...
to stand in where the shadows were,
absorb the light
and fill my heart
with those vignettes of knowing,
skittering before my inner eyes
like diamond dust.

Here is my chance to age
with wisdom not my own
but wander here between the stones,
their relative array, perhaps
a sage's gift in chiaroscuro
stone, to stone, to stone.

The night is for the cherishing,
the silent requiem,
the first and last 'Shalom'
to fade without regret.

This is where the shadows were...
Shalom to feast upon and to forget
but for the watchers,  
emulators of the Holy Ones,
the breathless worshipers at Stonehenge
echoing the chant of God
across ten thousand years

and you may hear the whisper of it
now, within...death is a dream
you saw at Easter Island, and
upon a mountain in Peru.  
Watch along the deathless hours
before the sun appears.
                      ~


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The Daystar

The Daystar shines...

Gold for a King
Frankensence for a Priest
Myrrh for a Saviour.


The clouds gather...

Crown of thorns for a King
A seamless purple robe for a Priest
Sour vinegar on a stick for a suffering Saviour.


Then...

A throne for the King
Human temples for the Priest
Resurrection power for the Saviour

The Daystar shines in hearts...forever !.





Matthew 2:1 “Where is He who has been born King of the Jews? For we have seen His star in the East and have come to worship Him.”

2 Peter 19-20 We couldn’t be more sure of what we saw and heard—God’s glory, God’s voice. The prophetic Word was confirmed to us. You’ll do well to keep focusing on it. It’s the one light you have in a dark time as you wait for daybreak and the rising of the Morning Star (Daystar - KJV) in your hearts....

Merry Christmas & Happy Easter


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A Glimpse of Promise

We welcome unexpected winter births
In this cold country: A new warmth
Delivered in our midst.

So far a-field we are, no home or hearth, 
Our lives and this somehow entwined,
His investment in future's salvation
Safe within this small skin.

Awakened in darkness, eyes straining to
See the faces of the desperate, hopeless
Strangers aching for a glimpse of promise.

Sleep now, precious gift, and do not 
Dream of tomorrow's tomorrow.  Love's labor
Will stay the bitter Easter for this 
Christmas child.

For a while.


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The Dogwood Tree

My favorite flower comes from the dogwood tree
Which just blooms only one time each year in the South  which is at Easter
Now the petals are called “bracts” and the center contains it‘s “blossoms”
And the “bracts” can range from white to pink to an almost red color
But that’s not what makes that tree so significant to me.

It’s amazing to me that if you look closely at the dogwood flower
 That you can see the resemblance of the cross
Because on each “bract” you can plainly see
Bloodstained nail prints of brown and rust stained with red
And then the “blossoms” of it contain what looks like a crown of thorns.

It’s also amazing just to think
How it’s “blossoms” bloom before Easter every year
It must be one of God’s miracles that is unexplainable
And then it stays in full bloom for three weeks
Kind of like Jesus was in the grave three days
Have you ever thought that a week could of been a day in God’s timing.


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Nothing to write home about

It was on the hanging tree, that we Romans got from the uppity Greeks, that they 

pinched from the perishing Persians. A fitting death for a criminal from where else but 

Galilee, great for a soldier's leave with its women and their dark dangerous eyes and 

the warm sometimes wild weather but the men there weird; notorious for its pathetic 

prophets.  We can't ignore rabble rousers, especially at Passover too, so we hanged 

him with two thieves for company making a chorus of the dying. This 'King of the Jews! 

Just three, so nothing really to write home about. One wonders why our officers even 

bothered when long ago in putting down Spartacus' revolt we Romans crucified five 

thousand or twice as many; our famed Imperial officials must have got so tired or too 

bored to be accurate; anyway they were only slaves and if we ever allow scum to win 

then our great civilisation, our liberty , would be under threat and we, our families too, 

being tortured to death! 

 

A common death, still, what if it is true that this Jesus came alive after three days? 

Many shrug their shoulders today as yesterday. How many for Easter Sunday lunch? 

What sports on the telly? Others annoyed. Why do these pesky Christians  insist 

on spoiling our well deserved holiday by marching through places in 'Christian' lands 

on - wait for it - 'Good Friday', with their dismal story that is not the Dawkins' truth? 



Today Christianity maybe is the world's most popular religion but it all happened so 

long, long ago in a land that still festers, annoying other lands, with no sign of justice 

and peace in the cradle of Christianity. Yet aptly named Von Ranker, founder of the 

scientific study of history, said this of Jesus Christ, "In the annals of world history He 

was incomparable!"



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EASTER SURPRISE

EASTER SURPRISE

This little known tale
Has never been popular
But happily true
About the Easter chicken
The bunny being stricken

Peter was careless
And as much was he fearless
Farmer Brown knew well
He brewed a toad stool cocktail
The results I’m here to tell

Peter eyed the brew
It steamed all golden yellow
First sip was mellow
But then the sleep dose took hold
Poor Pete    slumped     went cold

Chicken cried for joy
When Pete lay down in deep sleep
How long she’d waited
To have precious eggs to keep
Now she sat hatching her young

When her job was done 
She gathered the tiny chicks
A kiss for each one
Filled the nests with jelly beans
Hazel nuts and bits of sticks

Then to her duty
What better than colored eggs
Save the day    to fix?
What to fill a child with joy?
Why    each nest with fuzzy chick





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CHOICE

CHOICE

“Grandpa”, “ Will you go to church
with us tomorrow?” She sweetly asked.
“Oh, uh, me? Oh, no, I never go to church.”
“But it’s Easter Sunday”, she prompted.
“You know, I probably shouldn’t be 
eating this much spaghetti. Pass me 
some bread, will you?” He said.

How many Easter Sundays
Have passed by this man
It saddens me so
Not so much to have missed
An Easter Sunday at church
But to have missed out on
A lifetime of peace
Existing without God’s presence
To pass each day
Rejecting his love

My heart cries out for him
And for the many others
Who still remain blinded 
By their own pride
Deceived by the evil one
But I refuse to give up
I will not end my prayers here
For as long as there is breath
I will pray
Hopeful, believing that
One day soon
He too will choose
To be free
But knowing that it is
His choice alone
Keeps me on my knees


mja


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Miracles

It is the everyday miracles that have the greatest influence in our lives

A baby's first response to its parent's voice
The child that searches for you in the middle of the night after hearing a scary noise
	
Losing a first tooth
Finding your first Easter egg

A preschooler recognizing their name
Sitting on Granpa's lap playing a game

A caterpillar crawling slowly on the sidewalk
Later seeing it drift by as a butterfly

A father watching his child be born
Or hearing children's laughter in the distance as a loved one is mourned

Making a friend smile
Or just knowing when to let them cry

Being pushed on a swing
A favorite song to sing

Watching a bird take a bath in a puddle
Your dog eyeing the geese flying overhead

Blowing the candles of your birthday cake
Granny teaching you of the cookies to bake

Picking a flower, jumping in a pool, raking leaves, throwing a snowball
Feeling contentment at the end of the day

May we all take the time to witness the miracles that surround us everywhere we go


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Easter Celebration

To all who believe..

Tomorrow we celebrate our Risen Lord
Lord of the universe, creator of all things seen and unseen
By whose word the world was made
There is nothing made that was not made by Him
He gives freely at no cost
For He is God 
He does not need man
It is only out of His love for man
That we exist today and have free will
He is not a tyrant that demands 
As Christ arose from death
Let us arise from our death
To live in this world but not be conformed to it
* ~*

A glorious and happy Easter to all who believe!


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Easter Eggs

Lonely nights destroy me,
The thoughts of you,
In the church,
Where your casket laid,
Now under Earth,
The heart burns,
Wanting only to know,
Of your joy and safety,
Maybe what life is like;
After life,
The garden you visit,
Is it roses?
Or hyacinths?
Maybe daffodils?
I wish for a hug,
To feel that heart beat,
Never again,
I leave the Easter egg,
With the hope that you know;
You know.


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Mallards Fly No More

Early morning
  winter breeze
finds me
  wading waist deep
in murky water
  where
in the darkness
  enticers precisely
placed wait
  unwearyingly
to execute their master's
  will knowing
from the easter heavens
  they will come
in free flight
  sounding 
a characteristic note
  hunting
for mates 
  while sun's rays rain
among trees
  illuminating
hunter-green heads
  poised bodies
until
  a slight movement
barrel raised
  twitched finger weighing
heavily on
 aimed weapon
relaxes and pulls
  releasing
deafening thunder
  then
utter silence
  scattered feathers,
Mallards fly no more.


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Unfinished History

We spoke the history of Flankers under the roof
Of your old school
And I, O I went interviewing for the proof
I have that little book lost somewhere
But in my heart I read it still
The little brown church upon the hill
The iron caterpillars clawing into stone
The thrill of the poor man to capture and own
An heritage where ancestors blood was spilled.

King, the first boy born there lost his life fishing
Beside his father in the airport bog, we 
Wept for them three weeks and more, singing
And making light to ease the heavy hearts of loss
Brownie, the first man to settle after years there
On the estate smelling the wine of sugar
Roasting in the sun. I saw your son
In New York and was not intimidate of his skills
In maths again, he was just a another statistics
Like myself, and our hearts were cistern broken
Before our birth.

The first girl born there is now an officer of the law
O could we run those days again
Crazy in the childhood of our dream
The choir of birds in fruiting trees
The endless complain of working bees ...
O their nectar made all sorrows sweet
The evening in the sand bed
Pretending we were Quarrie or Bolt today
And the stars older than us
Longing for us to return their dust.

I wrote the history of that place ... the Easter Rebellion
Kenyatta, Desmond, Cyril, Jiggs, Dragon
And King Baz ... O that was a brilliant son. Corbett
Only walk and complain about dead politics now
But there was another time, we were young
And the sun was our liquid gold to dream
They came with the constabularies and machines
That tore rocks and buildings up
But could not spill us from our cup
We drank it all.

Today across the globe we are gone
None return to die
Where they began
And so lonely now the forest obsolete
The dried out swamp
The tourist that will not see again the lamp
Of Bredda, Nunsa and I
Catching crabs ... I left a tree my kite to fly
An old tree that entangled me ...
The history that began me before I finished it.


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WHAT EASTER MEANS TO ME

WHAT   EASTER   MEANS   TO   ME


………  and into the city of god rode this man,
following the road to his  end and  beginning  -
our palm leaves under his guiltless feet
to become nails piercing his palms and feet.


The sun died as the Son died.
Completely   consumed,   he died in silence,
as he gave up the ghost, as he left us alone,
birds,  harking  in  stark branches 
for the  dark wings of the angel of death, 
coming with its black sack, its veil, 
sunless-lightless-lifeless - where no bird sings.


And our breath was stopped, held,  
and we, bereft,  waited  in mourning
in this vale of tears   -  for him
to die and lie in a cave
blocked with boulder and soldier ...... ,


......  Then rolled  away
and  the Son, his  glorious face  pouring love on us all 
rose   and pushed aside the black stone into oblivion
and pierced a hole in the veil,  infinitely, gloriously,
and we were restored to life in the smile of heaven.




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FROM CHILDHOOD - 4 - EASTER MORN

EASTER MORN

WAKE UP!
The bright   white Easter morn
    Silent bells tolling invitation to the hunt
The bowl of eggs are gone
Table strewn with dyes
And cottontails climb the walls
Before my eyes

One nest right in sight
                                   fuzzy spills its sides
                                   candy beans
                                   blue egg    dried

Oh    to rise on feathery Sunday’s morn
Break the colored shells
Eat chicks before they’re born


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Spring holiday fever

Daffodils bunch, spring has sprung,
Sun raises higher to waken sleepy heads;
No time for hibernation now as spring fever hits, - 
create time to get together; go fly a kite, 
or sit and chill, make daisy chains.

Let the sunshine bring warm sunny days.
In meadows baby lambs take their first steps;
whilst mad March hare hops and plays
with baby bunnies dotting the green fields 
of the countryside.

A season where everything wants to bloom,
time to trim those lawns and weed again;
and all just in time before spring rains
will once more aid those thirsty 
flowers and bulbs as they grow.

For it is now that gorgeous butterflies 
flutter gracefully by giving nature a helping hand;
pollinating the kingdom while watching little chicks -
crack open their Easter eggs, just in time
to join in the madness of this happy holiday season.


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Virginia Easter

They are in need of me today
of all days
so the table can be set with unbent forks
and their silent
roosters--ye soft wattles play on.
White linen veils
the ancient splintered picnicktop
for small hands
as chipped mallets tick-tock clumsily
between bowed feet.
So eggs are not too devilish to eat
or be found
among the thick Virginia grasses.
I tell stories
of the fabled light of Notre Dame
they can't believe
entirely because God is not a wafer.
 
They are in need of me today
as the son
for theirs has disowned himself to the hedon coast
listening to Phish,
and the postcards speak of nothing
but brilliant light.
They are in need of me today
as the daughter
for theirs is grown and has grown
a wailing cherub,
but fiddle folded napkins when I speak
of Cixous, Butler, Luce.
 
They are in need of me today
as the resurrection
of their spirits in fading Virginian light for I am
their beautiful heathen.


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Where the Temple Is

Not coldly proud, in Saint Paul's cathedral,
     Nor silently strong in the Great Mosque of Mecca
     Nor sorrow-filled at the Wailing Wall
     Nor winding with the vines through Angkor Wat
     Nor beneath the Shinto Gate of the Sun,
          Or purselipped in stone on Easter Isle
          Or heavy with years in Stonehenge Circle

- In none of these places is the True Temple found,
They are but the little prayer-rooms within it.

     - There: in the atoms born of stars that shaped us.
     - There: in the sound of the laughing child.
     - There: in the scent of the rose.
     - There: in the last exhalation.

We can never go to visit the One Great Temple,
Because we bring it with us to all the others.

It is smaller than the atoms.
It is bigger than the Universe.
Its doors are never closed.
We have never been outside of it.

Consult your mirror: it shows the truth of this.
And when the thunder speaks, it calls to you, saying:

     TAT     TVAM     ASI     -     THAT     ART     THOU

Divinity is boundless; all things partake of it.

          Nothing matters.

          Everything matters.


Details | Free verse | |

Barabbas

Hey there, whatcha lookin' at?
Yeh, you in the shadows, pretending like you're reading something.
That's right, YOU!  You DO recognize me eh?  Barabbas!
The meanest man in all Jerusalem!
Ya heard of me --right?
Remember the big uprising about a year ago?--That was my doing.
Perhaps you recall, I also murdered that guy.
Boy, he had it coming-he sure did!
Whazzatt? You thought I was still in prison?
Well---------I was until about  five days ago.
Suddenly Pilate releases me in response to the cry of the crowd!
(Mebbee you was part of that mob!?)
Seems Pilate releases one prisoner each year at Passover.
This time it was between me and some Nazarene guy--name of Jesus.
Anyway, here I stand, a free man!
Whatcha say? What happened to Jesus?
Well I can tell you it weren't pretty.
First they mocked Him( He claimed He was some King dont'cha know)
Then they beat Him, pulled out His beard, and whipped Him.
I saw Him pass by carrying the heavy cross-beam.
He looked at me...and there was something about His eyes!
Sounds strange, but I actually felt like He loved me.
So I followed the procession to Golgotha where the Romans crucified Him.
It got so very dark--at noontime mind ya--and stormy too!
He called out,"Father forgive them!"-- then He bowed His head and died.
Well, they took Him down, and buried Him in some rich guy's tomb.
But yesterday, I heard people claim that He was risen!
Now His followers are telling EVERYONE that He is alive!
And--He will give eternal life to all who will come to Him.
That's where I'm headed now, to find out more information.
Ya wanna come along?                                                    Charlie Pelota 
Happy Easter all.


Details | Free verse | |

Carols on Easter

Dither and don't
Wither and won't
Slither away
Pawns dismay

Carols sung on Easter morning
Blasting the cold away
Rustic pieces found daunting
Carries night into day
Won't open the terror door
It seems to squeak a little
You hate but wanting more
Easy with cork in bottle

Errors made
Terrors hated
Rumors abated
Time slated	

Russell Sivey


Details | Free verse | |

The Taste Catching Hold (part 2)

On all fours
   I come in low
exploding into your chest
landing on you
    knocking the wind from you,
and while
   you gasp for
your life giving gas
         I bite
into your left arm,
    snapping the bone
near the shoulder
and with a furious twist
    rip it off,
then let it fall
             to the floor.

The wind of life
rushes into your lungs
and leaps out
   as a scream
       that could
          freeze you
in your tracks.
A volcanic shower
sprays from your stub
bathing me,
    matting my fur.
I lurch in 
  fangs cutting into
your right side
    near your last two ribs
and as the blood
coats my front side
    I can feel the skin warm
where it lands.

My jacket 
  swirls 
from a breeze
     trying to get
into my bones
to stall the inevitable,
lunging through it
  I slash open
your belly
spilling your innards
   like a child
      tripping with its Easter basket,
almost exploding 
into the air,
my dusty heart 
             tries to beat
but cracks
   releasing
my last bit of humanity
to the heavens
making your destiny certain,
   I will make
      your body
inadequate
     for life,
unable
   to sustain its hold.  


Details | Free verse | |

Octahedron

sitting in the fields of four oclock flowers
thinking of the times the illusion disappeared
the roses that led me to your secret room
cartomancy told me one thing about quivering leaves

simplifying everything
me in the middle
simplify all these strings
lets fall in love all over again
destined to look like laughing demons

Sullying the estate of guarantees
never surrender to the broken breeze
tulips and we meet at five
dandelions and three oclock in the afternoon

a place for me to lead you there
lead you there
will you find me 
hiding there
match stick man
sipping on this lemonaide

simplifying the new world order
here in my living room
the leprachauns
the pumpkins
the mismatched easter bunny
all i can think is the times
destiny was sweet
the memory of the beast
the illusion to defeat

five oclock smells
two days to reply at the wishing well
the language of the bouquet
you can love me this way
in the garden
ever spring
the story of lovers
forgot in the cartomancy
we imprison this beast

wilting
the rose that violated me
rusting like a pianting
never forget the simplicity of the hearts tied
to the aura of my black ballooons
wilting
the rose made me fall to my knees
dont kill this beast
the parades for the fools
i'll be walking circles around times illusions
smelling the flowers in the midnight garden


Details | Free verse | |

the deathbed conversion

when the sick one laying there
looked around for their “loved ones,”
all they saw were white coats &
when the white coats left them,
all they saw were white walls &
when they squinted their little eyes 
closed, to try & talk to 
“him” (whatever fictional character(s)
that they’d devoted a large portion of
their life to---typically the latter “i’m
dying” years), 
all they got was silence---
still babbling to themselves in their own
head,
trying to convey a message to that “force”
which they’d been told all the time
worshipping,
that was supposed to come & console them
in their time of greatest need,
but alas,
nothing came---
alas,
no one said a word to them &
time passed, as it does,
regardless of whether allah, jesus, buddha, 
moses, muhammad, yahweh, santa claus or
the goddamned easter bunny 
is supposed to show---
so at last, in those final moments,
the dying decided that all along 
they’d been following the herd,
they’d been believing a special kind of lie,
they had been
deceived
by people who weren’t even in the room,
when the *****hit the fan &
there was a deathbed conversion,
but it was to 
disbelief---
but there was no 
i-told-ya-so believer
waiting with a legion of video cameras &
recording devices of all shapes & colors,
as they do when they come to 
taint a public nonbeliever’s reputation
for all of eternity,
when one is at their weakest in a bed
alone,
breathing their last breaths---
because, no one wants to be proven
wrong,
especially when they’re doing their
damndest, to prove themselves
right.
    


Details | Free verse | |

Easter Morning

The brilliant light from the mountain top
I feel the warmth fill my heart and soul
Softly. touching the small towns  below
As eyes open wide accepting the warmth;
The light : cascades across the valley floor
People : to get a better look, open wide the door
The sun has risen this Beautiful Easter Morn
                          I  Said
The  SON has risen  this Beautiful Easter Morn

Joyful Easter : POETRYSOUP : GOD Bless


Details | Free verse | |

Thinking about Tattoos

Lately, Everything makes me think of them,

kick-started by that episode LOST with Jack's Thai mistress
who has a knack for reading a person and branding them--
"he walks among us, but he is not one of us--"
on Jack's shoulder forever, a secret in another language.
and I wonder, does he lie about its meaning?
The only thing worse than lying about a tattoo,
is lying about a tattoo painted by someone
who sees right into you. 

Then I wonder, if John or Simon Peter lived now
in this feel good age of defilement
would they have JOHN 3:16 across their bicep?
Is it okay to mess with a temple if it's words of love,
or words that mean love?

I saw a woman with "Jordan" inking the small of her back,
four summers ago now, and I still think of it
and how my first thought was-
"that'll suck if they break up and she has to explain
to her next boyfriend why she has some other guys 
name across her back..."
followed by wonderment of the kind of faith she must have,
only to be dismissed: "probably a drunken decision,"
And I still think that. 

Why is it so hard for me to believe that woman 
loved Jordan, had enough faith and trust 
to brand his name on her body?

Scars are the tattoos we don't choose,
and I have enough of them, thank you. 
The skin stretching over my shins, knees, and elbows
could read a chronological account of all the sports I've played, 
and all the stupid decisions I've made, 
like that dare to careen down a 50 yard, steep dirt mound
and skid out at the bottom, where, 
45 minutes and 2 bottles of peroxide later, 
I was "victorious."

Different shapes, sizes, and colors- purple, pink, flesh, even white,
like a freakin human Easter egg. 

Tattoos thrill and inspire me--
I live to love something enough to ink it on my body forever, 
but for now, I'll settle with knowing i've lived enough
to garner at least a dozen scars. 


Details | Free verse | |

Easter in Your Way

What do you want the world to know about Easter Lord?
How do you want one to know more about you?
What is Easter Lord?
Is it when you died and raised from the dead?
And we are just like you 
Because of what you did we can be the same
Being raised from the spiritual grave
What else do you want us to learn about this Lord?
That we can be a new person, the old one is gone
Old sins are forgiven –paid by you
What else Lord? 
That one has to ask You in their life 
And be their Savior
Then and only then it should be done
Okay Lord, I got it
You are my Savior
My Lord, I confess you as my Lord and Savior
Be with me Lord 
Be in my life and guide me
Through twists and turns
I need you
I need you Lord
Be in my world
Forever and always
I love you
My Lord, my Being
My Forever and Faithful One
My One and Only One
My Everything and All Things
My Ever Now and Always
My Joy and Well Being
My Confidant, My Friend
My Father, My All-Consuming One


Details | Free verse | |

What's this

It either comes stealthily at first like a spy or announces as a fanfare but more often 

like a bride in white being no respecter of beings or things equally fooling all in the 

guise of a fluffy warm blanket.

It is the delight of children who miss school and teenagers having a mock cricket or 

baseball match as a form of courting.

It is the bane of commuters even worse than a leaf on the line, fog on the tarmac or 

gales shutting ships in or out of port and slip siding away on the roads.

It is a mixed blessing to the old bringing back to the brim of memory the tales of youth 

more exciting than any computer game or the fear of bringing with it loneliness and 

racketing fuel bills.

It is for those sleeping rough or the unemployed a frigid beauty or just dirty and ugly 

as though nature is also against them as well as the state or society too.

It takes the boredom from our doldrums of the post Christmas celebrations and New 

Year revelries before Spring and Easter give us hope these often so hopeless times.


Details | Free verse | |

Easter

I'm going to find the most Easter eggs
They're painted pink, white, and blue!
I know he hid them for me, Peter Cotton Tail-
Up and down he hid them-hopping down the trail
I can't wait to find them..saved one for you.
I saw one under the base of the apple tree
Must run..hurry..and pick it up
Wait I see another under the old blue cup!

Look in my basket I've found seven or eight-
Grab your basket ,move aside, I mustn't be late.


Details | Free verse | |

Time Stood Still

The innocent Lamb was sacrificed
Shouldering such an onerous load
In his earthbound body dwelling here
Sent from His Father’s throne 
As the sands of time in the hourglass
His life slipped slowly away
Grace, peace and harmony 
He had brought to this earth
His life was the price He paid

The earth shook with the tragedy
The sun refused to shine
His pain on the cross was constant
The sins He covered were mine
We call it Good Friday, now
The day that He died
Death could not keep Him 
So Easter has been set aside
As the day He did arise


Details | Free verse | |

Dead from two lions at the cherry tree

I lose my voice
more and more
replaced by what
you think I mean
it doesn't matter to me
I lose it every day
all my faults and beliefs 
Just keep pretending you have something inside
you don't
as i continue the search
for true believers who want to save and help
and fix
and save me
from the controversial damnation

a true soul mate
among the players
trying to look so pretty
but i loose my voice more and more
i'm told what to say
influenced by your emotions
torn into waves and complexes
i don't wish to be
what does it matter to me
go forth ghost
spread the damnation
go forth spread the ultimatum,
send me to hell or heaven like you think you have that power over me

and i lose my voice more each year
as you twist and turn me
and i become something
i never intended
something within discovered
another life lesson for me to understand
to the jokes im not telling
to the riddles you're not comprehending
of the wickedness inside of everybody
who remains innocent
as i die on this page

because he came into this world
tore me apart
from limb to limb
like man stuck at the cherry tree
two lions from 
the past and the future
the seasons change with my tears
and i keep dieing
but i'm just a dead man
safely living amo0ng the living to take you there
with commercialism
of a sucker patrol
to poop the party
and you twist and turn my words to prove to yourself
i am something i'm not
and you are better than me

another rant
another injustice
nothing hidden between the lines
like Easter Sunday with no eggs
what can i say
as you parade your voodoo you practice on automatic cruise control
stop the insanity!


Details | Free verse | |

Poetry And Scripture

Poetry and Scripture
Celebrating the Easter Season


His love is as glistening as the morning dew 
On the red rose

His love for us deeply flows
And forever grows

His breath is soft
As a gentle spring breeze

His voice you can hear in the rustle of the trees
To Him We should bow our heads and fall to our knees



Because He lives
We too shall live



Tribute To The
Father Son And Holy Spirit
    {Amen}


Details | Free verse | |

Tangata Manu (The Birdmen)

Somewhere between Easter Island and 
Santiago skims an ocean skiff loaded with
slumped islanders bound within the teetering
cargo hold. In the distance can be seen the
eyes of seven monolithic faces defending
islanders from the fury of volcanoes.

One boy sits in line with the rest of the
villagers, sobbing for the loss of his home,
his mother and his freedom. Another ship bobs
into his field of vision on occasion, and he
can’t help but pray his father still survives
somewhere inside that mottled vessel.

Agony punctuates every moment of
peril and punishment at his captor’s hand;
in fact, the dogs laugh and taunt with impunity
the new animals they’ve captured and chained
for profit like so many husks of wheat: the
fruit of the stalk gets threshed without

mercy until each soul becomes a tiny
kernel of energy waiting to be pounded into
powder for consumption. The boy avoids their
glance as he centers his rage into a knot of power
ready to pounce with vengeance, fists balled
beneath his chest, channeling their arrogance,

their cruelty, their ignorance. Before
docking, the boy helps hurl the corpses
into the mirrored rage of the sea, narrowing
his eyes but not daring to reveal defiance to his
captors. Linked together in struggle, they
are tossed into cages to be auctioned off.


Details | Free verse | |

Mediocrity

Mediocrity

Isn’t it surprising to see
How far we’ve come
A techno babble driven civilization
all our plastic wonder
Our steadfast synthetic 
concrete society
These achievements of our centuries

Have lead us this far
To mediocrity

Mediocrity

The latest dainty 
For toothless Gods to sit and savour
A thousand years of human flavour
Forget the Egyptian
Forget the Maya
The Aztec and Minoa
It’s the twentieth century and we’re all the buyer
everything’s on sale here
In mediocrity

Mediocrity
Mediocrity

Forget the Egyptian and the Maya
Forget the Moore and the Aztec
It’s the twentieth century 
And all we have to offer
Is mediocrity

There is no dream left now
Nothing to aspire
Nothing to catch a breath now
Nothing to inspire
This complaining fate
We simply lie there
Skewered morsels on some heavenly fire
For the relish and the savour
Of this latest human flavour
Of mediocrity
Mediocrity

Mediocrity

And I don’t know how
If you realise
That the achievements are no surprise 
If you had the power
To open your eyes
What would you see
Mediocrity
Mediocrity

Mediocrity!

Forget the Egyptian
The Aztec and the Maya
Forget Babylon and Easter Island
Forget Athens, Rome and Minoa
This is the twentieth century
And witness our slavery

Our slavery
To  
Mediocrity
Mediocrity
Mediocrity
Mediocrity 
Mediocrity
Mediocrity

Witness our slavery

mediocrity


Details | Free verse | |

Why love spring?

Perhaps it’s the position of the sun
Its direction now slightly changed
Offering a new perspective of fun 
And it’s the recede of winter snow from the earth
The relief of endless shoveling and wearing of boots 
And stirring of rebirth
And the tracking of soil with muck under heel
It’s the hope of blossoms making an appearance on the trees 
The vision of endless flowers blooming with appeal 
The ever-tenuous advance of the tulips tips in the March breeze 
The promise of warmer weather 
Emerald pastures emerging where there was brownness
Baby birds snuggled in their feathered retreat
It’s the Easter holiday and new apparel with shinny shoes
It’s the arrival of animals that once lay fast asleep 
It’s the vision of hope and change to bring us cheer
And the laughter while digging in your basket for those yellow peeps 
Why love spring?
It’s in the air 








 


Details | Free verse | |

Framing Moments Past

Hazy pictures were displayed
Old oaken frames contained them
Hanging slight off kilter right
  The walls littered like leaves in autumn lawns
Grandma keeps glimpses of every leaf pile we made

Remember that Day?  Indepence Day, we think...
Smiled postures, sincere familial moment
Each recounting the tales we told most well
Classic family fables...annual oral essays
The laughs reached hysterics, when we remembered.....

These pictorial journals stand proud
  Historical record of Easter egg-hunt/fist-fights
account of dogs who eat cake...sons first birthday
the dog ate the cake on his FIRST birthday?!!
Picture proved guilt for Bailey, you mutt!!
Chocalate chops-licking as if smiling for the camera

Christmas collages of gift wrapping typhoons
Swirling in heaps covering everything
Your eyes were half shut holding
   holding an Alf doll...old school dated stuff
Fashion victim flashbacks...man, you had a perm?!
   relishing rubicks cubes , mysterious artifact
I could never have vengeful laughing
  without this"Wham" haircut snapshot

Grandma likes the silly one we took
eyes crossed, fish lipped child faces
chubby wind burned cheeks,  pushed through snowsuit hoods
Snowman center stage in a motley group pose
 bordered either side, white barred polaroid
taped, crudley cropped, in center of this frame

Each still reinactment is a Joyful look beyond
Life had painted beautiful moments,
   and we were there to catch it....


Details | Free verse | |

A briefing of Pentecost

Fifty days after Easter Sunday 
Mother Mary and the twelve apostles
Gathered together for a feast with bottles of wine
They celebrated a Jewish festival at this time

This was the fifteenth day, they say
Of Passover
It was proclaimed that a rush of wind
Filled the house there they all hushed

And a fire about their tongues resting over each head and descended;
this promise that was sent from God through the prophet Joel                         
to all that attended


Then through the streets went the apostles
To preach to all the crowds that came for the festival
Not only the apostles preached for good will
but by miracle native languages were spoken
Then on came Peter who was outspoken


He spoke of Jesus and his decent,
that all people to be forgiven and repent for their sins
About three thousand people of all colored skins
Were baptized this day





Details | Free verse | |

Seasons

Shinning in the light so bight.
The sun turns into night.
The winter cold breeze.
The touch of spring.
The summer breeze.
And the colorful leafs in the fall.
Each season has there own
speical meaning to them.

Spring:Is when the flowers bloom,
and when the animals come out to
play.
And easter of course..

Summer:Its hot,Thats when all the
beaches open up.

Fall:The changing of the leafs and the
weather change.We give thanks in fall..
For thanksgiving.

Winter:Snow,snow,snow..Its finally here.
and wait is over.
christmas is here,and we could never 
forget new years..

But thats the seasons for me.


Details | Free verse | |

Easter Sundry

Easter Sundry 
Easter Sundry 
   
  
  Easter Sundry 
For the 16 0f april Easter Sunday 

Ties and coats, dresses and hats, 
oh brother, where does he think 
he is going like that, dirty and 
homeless carrying his stuff. 
Does he not knoe it is Easter? 
We are all gussied up, our money 
in hand, ready to preen and to 
prance.Where did he think he was going? 
To Church like that, all dirty and poor? 
Not next to me and my family. 
We are the members of our community. 
We are Ties and coats, dresses and hats. 
We are ready for Easter. 
Homeless is not to be seen. 
Homeless is not to be found. 
We do not want the old homeless around. 
Does he not knoe it is Easter. 

Charles Robert Hice 

Copyright ©2006 Charles Robert Hice 

Charles Hice 
  


Details | Free verse | |

SMILE.

   


                      this day                             I woke



                                              with

                                a                                 !
                                 g                               e
                                   r                             l    
                                     e                         i
                                       a                   m 
                                          t   b  i  g  s
     




3/23/08 HAPPY EASTER TO ALL ON THE SOUP.


Details | Free verse | |

Something Even Worse

It's easy to cry in your beer
About being alone on Easter day
You feel cheated out of family
And though in fact that is sad

You could be much worse off
It could be something much 
more,
A thing that has turned ever so bad

You could be stuck with someone
you do not love...
Someone you can not stand...
But stuck you are,
And stuck you'll be
As if you've found you have
a tightly tied hand

That is worse,
Let's hope it's not you
Cause you'll wonder how,
Or, why, and surely what to do...


Details | Free verse | |

New fear.

   
           It used to be as we approached a bridge,
          people would wave, from young to old.
          the car drivers would sound their horn.
          it could happen any time in the morn.
           Now  the times have changed,
           throwing objects ,is a sick game.
           This Easter a woman was killed,
            thanks to these mindless thrills.
            
            Every motorist, looks with caution,
            gripping the wheel,
            pulse racing,
            feeling the dread,
           wondering if they are next.
          I too look twice,
           at the person up above,
          though if some thing is thrown,
         no time is enough.
           It is some thing I must do,
          I advise you do it to.
         I want to get home safe and sound,
        not with blue lights flashing all around.
          
           


Details | Free verse | |

papa.

one person understood me.
one person stopped the war in me.
to wipe away my tears in the night,
calling me sunshine, calling me blondie.
one person went so far away,
one person won't return.
another voice i cant ever hear,
another loss i couldnt afford.
because illness fought a better fight,
because of old age,
because of death.
thats why i cry tonight.
battered photographs,
stories my father told me,
they could never do you justice.
because i couldnt cry when i saw you for the last time,
thats why the tears fall harder now.
because im reminded of you when i think of things,
like blueberry pancakes and peppermints,
of easter egg hunts, and the best birthday cards.
i hate to think of when you last saw me,
when i was tainted, alienated.
and i wish that you could see me now,
how far i've come,
and help me go further.
because no ones on my team anymore.
because i dont think they understood you.
because they played the wrong song,
because they think that you still linger in this life.
i want go back.
i want to cry.


Details | Free verse | |

The Flight

Washed by spitum from the drooping lips
of the dying angel, i recieve the command baton
to war against the dreadful monsters from outer space.
With a bible from Bernadette Soubirous
i whip like Arthur's excalibur,
cutting squirming tails and bursting goric eyes
until i come face to face
with the Republican Guards of East Hell.
I wrestle Hitler with a doze of morphine,
sing Beelzebub  to sleep with a tune
from ancient biblical Ruth
and recieve extra light
from the Eagle Nebulae
to frighten approaching fiends in to their darksome burrows.
They came to retrieve the secret of
the sacred feminine given to Dan Brown
on easter night by angel Micheal.
Now on once raging battle fields stand,
dead demons and rotten evil spirits and the poster
"Beyond the Knowing of Man."
Then i clutch the scrolls from Nag Hammadi
 and the convenant from Damascus
 on a night flight to Zion's Hill.
 Jesus welcomes me in pomp
that words can never craft.
Two years later CNN makes my flight
the new twenty first century scripture.


Details | Free verse | |

Seasons

The Easter Bunny has come and gone,
Hippity Hoppity Hoorah
Next it will be Happy Thirty-ninth Birthday to me
Oh what a joyous day that will be
Soon it will be the fourth
Now that is a wonderous night
when the sky lights up with red, blue and white
Then off to Trick or treating we go,
Wearing all those darn pantyhose.
Turkey day will soon appear
Now that is my time of year
Santa isn't far behind,
With blitzen as the last in line

Hope all of your holidays stay safe and warm
So the circle of life continues on


Details | Free verse | |

Easter Snow

Easter is a time
for change, sunshine,
but where's the sun,
as I look out my,

window this easter
morining, what is this
I see, not more snow,
rain is ok, but

snow no, snow I 
thought I had seen
the last of you
but you just keep

coming so white
is the ground as
snow flakes keep
falling and falling.

They say if it
rains easter sunday
for seven sundays
we shall have rain.

Does this mean
that now for seven
sundays we shall have
snow falling on us?

Sun last few weeks
you have been so
kind to us ,please
pay us a visit.

Once again and
bring comfort to
these old bones of
mine once again.

They say we need
the moisture, so
rain wake up and
please fall on us, once again.

wrote 4-8-07


Details | Free verse | |

An Easter Rising

An Easter Rising

Poetry by priests? 
Who gives it more than mock attention?
We read their poems, yes,

author first, then the title,
finally the verse itself. 
Not much, except for Hopkins.

We wait for Rome, you see, 
to give us in addition to its saints
one more decent poet. 

A sot once said
“When things get bad enough,
you will see a Celt, 

armed with a quiver of poems, 
ride flaming out of the hills,  
soaring over the lakes,

wearing a rainbow for a Roman collar.” 
Things are bad enough right now by half. 
We need to hear his gallop now.

Donal Mahoney


Details | Free verse | |

Easter morning.

here's a poem I thought I'd write 
                         maybe early this morning or was it last night?
knock knock knock the fourth day of spring at my door,
     opening it I see a familiar friend early that's for sure,
the light of Easter rushing inside,
    the smell it brings and the joy it hides,
the church bells ringing in the distance at the top of the hour,
   baskets fill the house waiting for kids to shower,
March 23 a early Easter on a early Easter morning,
   a day that came a bit fast now sits before me,
the colors of yellow, green purple, pink, and even blue,
   Easter eggs and gift filled baskets for kids, the big ones too.
how dose one day bring so much joy, so much hope,so much love,
  not only in candy and gifts , but in worship and thanks to up above,
you can't beat a day that opens your mind and touches your heart,
  a day remembered it the testament years before that plays a big part,
what was done how it came about, how he rose and how he stands today,
  this day fills me like no other spiritually, mentally, and physically I must say,
Easter... touch life, touch your heart, move your self to tears as well as others,
  take part in this day enjoy family and friends sisters and brothers fathers and mothers,
your kids home and away those who have past who loved Easter day,
  look up to the ski and say thank you lord for all you do and for a gift like today.


Details | Free verse | |

My Easter Joy

Today is the day for family's to share fun.
Being able to spend today with you,brightens my day more than the sun.
Today we don't have to hide eggs or have a big dinner.
We can enjoy each other's company and talk about the good times,
times we remember.
Mom, I rather have your heart,smiles,and company.
Rather than any so called fame, or a bank full of money.
With the love I have for you and my boys my heart is overfilled.
Being blessed with you three is almost to good to be real.
I love you and enjoy you, is what I'm tring to say.
There is no one else that deserves my time and heart, more than you on this 
 Easter Sunday.


Details | Free verse | |

Easter in Pittsburgh

Pride,
From heritage and birthed love,
Family,
Coming together,
The usual holiday,
Italian food – in bulk,
I hope for pineapple bread pudding,
As well as fully intend to joke with the great Mr. Bellagio,
Dye eggs perhaps?
Tradition of course set in stone,
Sleeping on the sheeted couch petting what I love the most,
Warmth and heat,
For Nanook of the North is brittle, elderly, and easily frozen over,
Certainly will see snow atop the hills and mountains,
Primanti’s perhaps?
Shopping is certain,
A brief whisk away by relatives via birth,
This Easter is to be adored,
Tradition set in untouched stone.


Details | Free verse | |

Unvarnished Wood

A dash of wood varnish
A- twiddle-lee-dee

A coat of wood polish
A-twiddle-lee-dum

An Easter red bonnet
A twiddle-lee-doo

We shall be 
Like unvarnished wood
Blessed by the carpenters hands
Then, he shall smooth out the rough edges