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Metaphor Prayer Poems | Metaphor Poems About Prayer

These Metaphor Prayer poems are examples of Metaphor poems about Prayer. These are the best examples of Metaphor Prayer poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

My Micke boys

                To be called ..
            ~   Grandma is a Honor ~

        I have been blessed with 4  Grandchildren

       ~ one lays in Heaven " Kaleb "  He is God's Angel ~
   ~ His twin brother he will always watch over , and be in his soul~

     For he loved his Brother so much in the womb ,
       he chose Heaven which gave life to his twin
      ~ I feel his spirit when I see the other Grandson ~
 
              Time passed another gift to see
               we are " Mickes" and Loved 
            Our Dad held the title in Baseball 
                   ~  that's how we roll ~
           those children are Grandmas hero's 

       The Irish they love big and Family is everything 
        The brothers will protect the beautiful sister 
              ~ as many lads will be calling ~

        Every time my Grandson hits a home run
     There will be a Angel watching proudly in the stand 

       It will be as if the Angel lifted him when he runs 
           ~no one runs faster then my Grandson~
     either baseball or Art  ~ you shall find your gift given

                These children have been blessed~
                 ~  a beauty to hard to describe 
        If you think not ~~  Take a look at the Mom  
                     That girl can stop Traffic   
                    after raising three and still~ 

          "Inspired by the gift and loss of Grandchildren "

     May our precious " Kaleb " softly rest where Angels only Dwell


Details | Free verse | |

Dementia

He was always so happy
strong and bold.
He'd give you the shirt off of his back.
Tough.
Independent.
He had a rough life
growing up through the depression,
but like he always does,
he got through it.
He has two boys, of whom he is so proud.
Moved from Regina, to Victoria.
He had the best life anyone his age could have wanted.
But ever since his wife died, 
he has not been the same.
Sad
Lonely
Empty.
But like he has always done,
he got through it.
Mind slipping, 
just a little forgetful.
That's how it always starts out...
But like always, he powered through it, 
until now...
He is not the same person that I used to know.
He been sentenced to the prison in his own mind.
Possessed by the thoughts of his dogs ashes.
He likes to play the blame game,
but we know he doesn't remember that it was him.
He wakes up in the night
shaking with pain, 
tears streaming down his face.
There is nothing we can do,
Oh well...
Two more tylenol.
Hold on to hope
for as long as you can,
It's only a matter of time now.
He gets vocal, a very loud tone.
He'll block you in your room
and make false accusations
But we know that it's the pain induced monster in him.
Tick tock, tick tock...
You can't handle the stress anymore
you have to leave.
Just hope for the best, 
maybe it will get better.
Surprise, it doesn't.
Your denial is foolish, everyone knows 
what happens next.
Sedation
Medication
Anger
Hurt
All results of
dementia


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 | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Money

Money money, ringing in your tills,
Calling us to worship,
The hundred dollar bills.
Bend our knees in wonder,
Bow our heads in awe,
At the power of the liar,
Who now controls us all.
From the darkest deep caverns,
To the stars in the sky,
From the infinite universe,
To the strangers passing by.

From your inner most conviction,
To your laughing in the night,
From everything you 're  seeing,
To everything out of sight.

The new God has risen,
To claim the holy throne,
The one that we have emptied,
Our hearts all cold as stone.

The throne that we have emptied,
We killed the rightful king,
Sold his crown an sceptre,
Pawned his sacred  ring.

Raised his bleeding body,
Up on that bloody hill,
The silent lamb still bleeding,
As the money fills your tills.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Hammer

Who can hear, the mornings call?
The dead dove's body, as it des fall.
Who can see through, the dead man's eyes?
As the burning sun, falls from the skies.

What once was new, has now become old,
What once was alive, has now become cold,
What you believed, was worth a lot,
Is burnt to ashes, in the melting pot.

Let's start again, I hear them say,
Let's start again, another day,
Let's make again, what we made before,
Spill more blood, on the kitchen floor,
Lift the cross, up on the hill,
Load the guns, to fight and kill.

Fight and slaughter, till there's non one left,
Till your mind is empty, your heart is deaf,
You thought that, I was a soldier too,
You thought that I said, I love you,
But I tell you now, and I tell it true,
The angles of heaven, and the angels of hell,
Are riding now, to the ring of deaths bell.

What you thought, was silver and gold,
Are ashes and dust, on the open road,
What you knew was good, what you knew was true,
The hot sun has dried, like the morning dew,
The very memory, of hope and despair,
Is lost in the hole, of your soul laid bare.

The empty hole, behind the clouds,
The music and the laughing crowds,
Are dead and gone, have faded away,
As a new sun rises, on a bright new day,
I tell you now, and I tell you true,
As the hammer of me hits the anvil of you


Details | Narrative | |

A Land Bearing Green White Green

Which way leads to the 
land of green white 
green?
Which way are we 
heading?
   A country the wicked 
bears the rulership, and 
the people sighing 
continuously.
   A terrible thing sprouts 
beneath the sun: a 
pregnant woman 
delivering not.
Imps come to lime-light 
by snuffing air from the 
goose that laid the 
golden eggs.
The blind guiding the un
blind.
The weak suppressing 
the strong-a terrible 
thing.
Like the overthrow of the 
gods at Mt. Olympus by 
the Titans.
A country where also 
thieves appear as men of 
integrity.
Land of green white 
green,which way?
A land where the 
enlightened ones are 
overshadowed and 
peanuts given to them.
The masses are dogs that 
eat the crumbs.
 Which way to go you 
Land?
Iliterates stand on 
podium of power 
bellowing orders as milk 
of sorrow known as 
dividends of democracy 
is passed around.
The machine of progress 
manned by the 
unproductive.
"There is better 
tomorrow" we hear.
Land of green white 
green,my country 
where rule of law walk 
beside anarchy.
The proles are sentenced 
to adversity,and there 
endured death-like trials.
Chai! Aru! People 
dancing on thorns 
whimpering as they 
throng 
along.
  I see a new sun rising 
from the horizon,hope is 
rekindled as its rays 
grace on hopeless bodies.
 Look!! there soon be 
change!



Note: 
This 
is 
poem 
full 
of 
Nigeria 
political
 angst.


Details | Blank verse | |

The Eye

The eye,a sign the 
unwise can't comprehend
  Forged from the world's 
origin,an 
illumination in darkened 
minds,for the 
enlightened ones like 
Leonardo da Vinci,Isaac 
Newton,John Milton....etc.
   The eye is a tree 
with many branches like 
Priory of Scion,Knight 
templars,I.O.G.T,United 
Nations,Masonic 
Lodge,Music industry, 
Politics,global economy, 
etc 
stretching beyond 
human imaginations-felt 
in all corners of earth.
  The world is clothed 
through wisdom from 
above.
   The eye,all seeing 
sign,an invincible 
emblem of power and 
riches to the lion hearted 
and loyal souls.
A seat of influence and 
fame.
  Creating the social order 
through men of power....
  Some see it as a 
curse,others a blessing.
  I feel it,the great eye is 
everywhere watching 
you!


Details | Acrostic | |

Your Eyes

 (Dedicated to Folake)

Your eyes, woman
are like twilight rainbow
amorously bearing aloft passions of mine
toward androcytic ecstacy.
They tell of endless lights.

Night skies clarion the warmth of you
keep me balled-up till
i am tilted to your adorned essence.

May I call up words to adore you,
agglomerate them into a panoply of worshippers
unsandalled before you
like Moses at the burning bush.
 
And now you seem to fall asleep
but you tell me it's the heavy night
bidding toward a sunny dawn
wherein our love is lighted.

Slowly I let you fall asleep
impatient with the long night
waiting to gaze once more
into the eyes of my lovely love.

Then a lip is placed on yours
and you rouse up wide-eyed
smiling at my romantic move.
We enjoyed the night, cruising on.


Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: IV

God made all people
But some better than others?
Stop being silly.


Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: VI

The body: sacred
We’re all made in God’s image
Hence... circumcision?


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Silent Lamb

The silent bell rings in the night,
Calling the devils to kneel to the light,
What once was, becomes no more,
As the light breaks through the open door.

What you think and what you feel,
What you saw and thought was real,
Is now only dust on the road,
The desolate remains of your ancient abode.

The new light is rising on the hill,
The new song is singing down in the well,
The new souls are dreaming of your face,
The new hearts are beating at you pace.

The old ideas and reasons you gave,
Are buried in the tomb and in the grave,
The rotting bone and flesh are gone,
In the morning dew, in the morning sun.

The light shines through the open door,
Casts no shadow on the old dirty floor,
The ancient laws of reason and might,
Crumble to dust in the morning light.

What once was real and certain as rock,
Is now the dream the baby forgot,
The new light coming to wake you my love,
The silent lamb and the flying dove.

more of my poems at :
http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Rhyme | |

When He Breaks You

When He breaks you

It is to re-make you.

 

If given the choice

To give destiny your voice

You would undoubtedly have picked this state

Such is the irony of fate

 

He breaks you now

So you later see the how -

How the pieces of your journey come to be

A slow but eventual solving of this mystery

 

He makes you work work work – then fail

So that you realize your means are of no avail

Without His will -

But feel His mercy fill -

Even through the aches still

 

He punctures your bubble of hope

To teach you the meaning of struggling to cope

To avoid you saying ‘this was all from me’

Which you might say if it always did come so easy

 

He lets you fall

So that when you stand

It’s straight and tall

Your past sorrows

Not letting you drown

Without your ego

Weighing you down

 

Even while the road appears smooth

He lets you trip and trip again

So that you might stumble upon hidden treasures

From the dirt, which you may otherwise not gain

 

In essence,

He knows Best

The perfect Teacher

Who puts the perfect test

-

Truly,

He breaks you

To re-make you…

Better.


Details | I do not know? | |

The Tragedy of the Banished Revolutionaries

The Tragedy of the Banished Revolutionaries.

Epochs apart, yet,
bound by conscience,

Buddha, 
Jesus,
Moses,
Muhammad,
Ram.

Enduring the whispers of time,
through creeds professed,
sermons preached,
and a million sins confessed.

Though,

the essence,
of these banished revolutionaries,
is ceremonially muted by ritual,
and gleefully crushed under,
grandiose edifices,
that serve Religion Inc.

"And the meek shall inherit the earth",
an incendiary thought,
conveniently discarded,
for the pie in the sky that must be sought.

The tragedy of the banished revolutionaries,
stings.
stabs,
whispers still,
for us to hear,
through the din of the cacophony of prayer.

Buddha,
Jesus,
Moses,
Muhammad,
Ram.

The tragedy of the banished revolutionaries,
persists,
each day that we choose,
to shun the meek,
and mouth conscience-salving prayers,

for yet more silver,
and yet more silk.


Details | Rhyme | |

Poetry

P) Power O) of E) effective M) mentality Seeing the external internally Imposed but there is a possibility Get you thinking constantly Spoken out with clarity Meaning it sincerely Increasing minds physically Teaching the mind eventually Sowing a lyrical tapestry With the power of the pen and pad it be The influence of God’s philosophy Balancing human hypocrisy Enriching hearts spiritually Spreading emotions evenly Sparking a forgotten memory Freeing prisoners emotionally By painting pictures vividly Always coming out visually Rhyming with a melody Wiping all misery Toning down insanity Showing everyone brightly And clearly This is poetry.


Details | Sonnet | |

The Line Between

O God, the pangs are crushing body, soul
And spirit—working deaths where sunlight fades— 
My arms are trunks of pain and taking toll, 
While tortures, stings, and sickness hauntly raids
To close the Gates of Hell to shut me in,
And heaven bows to greet while Hades seeks
To send The Reaper with his failing grin.
And illness ruins lives while havoc wreaks
The squalored throes of daily living on—
While body wastes away and breath remains
To sing your dirge while I still carry on…
Like trampling cattle trodding broken frame,
I live between the sunshine and the grave—
Like flowers cut and dying in the vase


Details | Prose Poetry | |

For this instant of time

For this very instant of time
I held reality within my hand
I read the meaning beneath the eyes
And just began to understand

So many feelings are still mysterious
For this very instant of time
Yet motionless I know. I'm not alone
The boundary is crusty, still not define

In this humanity just passing through
Another branch in the tree line
For this very instant of time
I hope my clouds will live as blue

And when the heart of life will forever pause
I'll still remember love so kind
In position of prayer on knees I crash
For this very instant of time
From this very instant of time!


Details | I do not know? | |

MLK - 1929 - 1968

MLK...
(January 15, 1929 – April 4, 1968)


they shot you down
all those years ago

but

your dream lives on
and always will

for though much has been
gained since you dreamed
your dream

there is much to fight for
and much more to struggle for

and much, much more
to fight for still

so
your dream resounds in
our hearts and we pledge 
this to you today
for though they shot you down
all those years ago on a memphis day
we shall overcome
this we do believe
deep in our hearts
that
we shall overcome
someday...


(for Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.)


Details | Free verse | |

In the Coals

The sky danced a glimmer of setted sun blue
Softly through into the night
Like rafters keeping us safe on our path under heaven
Trees wove themselves over us
Breathing light from coals washed the five gathered faces
Flickered in their eyes and over their bodies
In the quiet I saw

In the south like the waves from beneath the sea
One spirit shone with a shimmering breath
And another in the west settled on the rafters there
With a sighing light barely seen and hardly felt
Amid the rafters of the north one other spirit swayed
There too an ethereal visitor echoed in the east
In the quiet I saw

Faces bright, strong and painted with a wash of . . . 
Contentment, save two, both fallen of crest
And still under the watchful eyes of Nokomis high in the skies
One rose to smile holding a light before him closely
But woe fell across the other for being there within already
As if unable to escape for eyes unseeing
In the quiet I saw

I watched a struggle between three spirit cousins
Over and all around they fought where he had fallen
So vicious this fight, it cast a shrouding over everything of him
For these two beasts snarled and slashed for dominance
While the third sat quietly as if waiting or perhaps just watching
With great patience for one to fall and it too was evil
In the quiet I saw

The sky shone softly in the ambient light of stars unglimpsed
For Nokomis with her watching eyes held us 
As only grandmothers do for having loved and loved her child’s children too
All through the night she held us as we sailed without a sound
Across and over the blue of setted sun somewhere next to here
With the warmth of coals burning nowhere save inside 
In the quiet I saw

In the quiet I saw five souls glimmering
In the quiet I saw a war cross one red road
In the quiet I saw the spirits of four ancestors
In the quiet I saw everything, nothing all that I needed
In the darkness of the madodoswun it is dark as pitch
And still, and yet . . .
Before the door whispered to open
I saw in the quiet still


Details | Lyric | |

Hey Bartender

Written 2010


Flashing lights and sounds roll by
Hear the sound of muffled sighs
Sullen words cannot express
Just confess, and lift it off your chest
Told the priest would hear your cries
If you don't feed him blatent lies

Oh he's your only friend 
But he don't want to hear your sins
He's off doing his own thing
But it's far from priestly things
Oh he wont look in your direction
Let alone show you affection
Even when he hears your plea,
"Hey bartender please!"
Gone are all your hopes and dreams
All you ever sought to be
Heard from all across the room
Are many empty pleas,
"Oh won't you pity me?"

You can close your eyes and count to 10
Again and again
But he wont come back to help his fellow men
He was your only friend, but he left you all alone
To wallow in your sin
He failed to listen to your prayer
Now your lost in dark dispair

You can hide behind your cries
But he'll see into your eyes
Until the time you leave his bar
And wobble to your car


Details | Couplet | |

The Scent of Water

Her man was woven into love spell
By another woman, not of her smell. 

Bewitchery, she will not tolerate
To the perfumery she’ll calculate.

Apothecary had the perfect answer 
An exotic earthy whiff from vetiver! 

Happy she was her man found her erotic -
But, alas, it was only episodic!

She spritzed the air with essence of rose petal -
Then a reminiscence of the betrayal!

Love and romance the attar generated 
Very soon enough it evaporated.

Memorable scent of basil she wore next,
Pleasurable things her man not to forget,

In vain, it was she who cannot forget -
In her mind fresh the err her man had make,

Scent of her rival made her green with envy,
Scent of betrayal made her very angry,

Desperate but hopeful, she went to a lone edifice; 
Temperate and humble, the scent of water brought her peace. 


7/14/14


Details | Free verse | |

The Sculptor

I feel Him chip away at my flesh.
The vibrations shake to my bones.
Pieces that were once part of me now fall helplessly to the floor.

Every scrape of the chisel,
Every pound of the hammer,
Every piece that is broken from me stings with immense pain.

Why doesn't He stop?
Why is The Sculptor so cruel?
Doesn't He realize that each swing He takes is a nightmare to me?

I would be better off as stone that was never touched,
I would be more content without the suffering that comes apon me,
But I wouldn't be a work of art.

Each chip of the chisel is intended to remove a piece that shouldn't be there.
Each pound of the hammer is meant to force the hideous fragments far from me.
Each move The Sculptor makes, takes me closer to His plan for me.

I must trust, knowing that He never takes off too much.
I must be ready, knowing that He never leaves His work incomplete.
I must be thankful, knowing that I am being made beautiful in His eyes.

The acute pain is only a short part of His plan.
The lasting anguish fades in its own time.
Though heart, and soul, and body all grieve, the permanent state will be that of finished work.

I may not know the reason for each strike,
I may not know the fault with each sundered chunk,
And I may never know.

I know the sting of the chisel now,
I know The Sculptor has a plan,
My part is to trust that He will not work forever ... but that He will be done.


Details | Free verse | |

The Scent of Your Soul

Ahhh......so sweet is your soul's scent;
it excites everything with Bliss; bliss that never goes faint.
Inhaling your sweet scent, is our inner purpose,
to cease smelling the stench of worldly suffering.
Cover us with your wings, to let us smell your scent,
forever being drunk in your Eternal Bliss!


Details | Free verse | |

Esperar

I love that moment before the storm.
The world goes silent
and dozes and snores.

A prayer summons this bliss to last;
for regular breath,
much unlike the past.

Peace that ends in a series of pours. 
Inevitable.
Thunder snaps the core.

The world's awake and is frantic.
Breath turns to howls.
Rain. Tears. Panic.


Details | Free verse | |

The book the wizaed wrote part five

But you cant keep this book intact its not allowed 
your soul will not bear it 
do you keep all the prophecies to be a part of the truth 
do you tear out the love and find just the directions to eternal youth\ 
do you keep the satanic metaphors to reveal the author had a horrible soul 
this test upon humanity is sitting by the riverside
Love for sale in western mail
Love for sale in western mail
Watching it all go down is given to every woman child mother father adult 
and then you create how its passed down to the future but its never whole 

one day I will write this book and you will all dream 
Pushing the limits
So many nights crying
The limits that limits that change
About its entirety 
go from house to house 
to read the book 
with pages missing to compare it to yours 
to fathom family legacies and opinions 
Born to please
to try to understand the truth of oppression and decisions and accuracy and 
creativity 
and in this book I will write stories and I will write traditions and I will write games 
and I will write sanities and insanities 
but what you keep and what you throw away 
stay away from the river man
The water is cold
Don’t ever set me free
Born to dream
Of those days of warm rays
No one has a clue
You’re safe when they hear me
But they’re gonna clue in
When they see the sneak
They clueing in
All their strength not to fall apart
Satellite secret moments shadowed in the heat of the afternoon
To the holiday
They will always want by their side

they’re cluing into the bird lady

Doing things my way
they’re cluing in to little miss daisy
is another test 
another dream another curse 
another prayer of metaphor 
another chain 
of soft spoken words
to never have answered 
something this generation had that memory can only answer 
and the death wish of not cooperating leave you upon a grave of cand’lit flames 
and hells passed on to legacies of hell the arch angels tell you to tear down 
walls to cripple you all 

Everywhere
Everything blue eyes
Unbelievable ways
Sky of white stars exotic
Magical times

Broken faith makes me
your new book of god 
And I’m running out of here
Or no way at all
Running out of here

BROKEN FAITH
makes me
YOUR NEW BOOK OF GOD

And I’m running out of here
And I’m running out of here
Come to the reason
You really got me
I wasn’t fake
come to the light
back to the middle


Details | Free verse | |

THE WORLD OF VIBRATION

“THE WORLD OF VIBRATION”
My dear siblings and pals;
I enjoin you all, to vibrate when you have the cause;
In proper scrutiny, I have come to apt conclusion that;
This is a world of vibration, validly, when it’s tumultuous;
Because a time will come, when you will become incapacitate;
And your vibration becomes vague!
I tell you…, the hall- mark of your every-day prayer will be;
As fast it could be, to kiss the generous mother earth.


Details | Narrative | |

Earthbound sobriety

While crossing Verrazano Narrows Bridge
recurring mem’ries of New York recapture 
history and civilization of the two boroughs
provide me with deep interest and emphasis.

Brooklyn in its old Dutch for “broken land,”
and Staten Island named “Staaten Eylandt”
named in the early 1600s by Henry Hudson,
trailed off on a tangent through centuries.

A myth or perhaps a legend, the island thus far,
was like a quagmire of townships and disputes;
its meaning to immigrants’ culture and religion,
favored silence, security, peace, and integration.

The burden of too many choices based on clans,
growing businesses and stories of interactions;
new immigrants in droves through generations
like an orchestra combined with a sense of drama.

Reflections of their struggles to make ends meet,
reminded me of articulation through interpretation;
in sobriety of heeding of the composer’s intent,
such a musical piece made me suffer and sweat.

Oh, the pedal, rhythmic vitality and expression!
all these elements comprise what piano playing is,
the technique, in a special way, a benchmark item
indeed, a struggle to interiorize those conventions.

But as a human person with some limitations,
with my own history and capability in playing,
I see where I can be fit and freely express myself;
through movements in diverse missionary works.

As it says in French, “bon débarras, il est partí.” 
my life continues with a backlog of other issues,
a different world focused on service to the Lord;
with my own repertory – its beauty to humanity.

It’s true that my prayer for the church at large,
is also a bridge across the gulf of separation;
coming to this borough of Staten Island
a hodge-podge of concerns, covenanted within.

Now that relationship with God and people
brings me to nourish that faith and commitment;
with that long stretch of Verrazano Narrows Bridge,
a metaphor to my own journey as a missionary.


Details | Free verse | |

Secret of love

allow me to retort
cults swaying in the thousand aisles
banging heads off bibles and pews
hanging dead son off necks
if that child was yours
would you see it eye for eye?
grant another wish?
what a peace loving forgiven community
and how much i love them for carrying death and torture of my only son
around 
dance in denial
parade around in it 
treat me like a genie?

secret of love lies in shared inside jokes
humor of the souls
when you are in a crowd
someone says something
two people laugh
that is a secret of love
does not lie within gods power
gods power historically proven 
to take and condemn
brainwash and forsake
be hipocritical
throw around labels of insanity 
close opened doors to those in need

so get it straight

the secret of love lies in romanticism
and the million ways creatively and intelligently in riddles and layers saying 
I love you

thats why all you bible thumping whackjobs read the bible again and again and 
say something about don't judge me or other people because only god can 
judge but i know you've already judged me

so allow me to retort
I'm the happy peaceful way of keeping the population down through same sex 
marriages 
instead of going to horrific world wars
blessing upon a world not allowed to love because you have judged me
in my mind you dance like Jezebel from partners
i more careful
represent lifestyles against aids and drugs

what has your cult done?

so go ahead judge me
throw away my rights from Albert to kingdom come
in the end in the secret of love

the crime called you and how warm it is
doing you naked jumping jacks crawling through metaphor for a prayer through 
metaphor for prayer


the secret of love is not in god
it is in the time shared
it is in the beauty heart
it is in the joy of how you tell your children everything you have learned and know
the comical situational ironies and recycled dreams
inside jokes
love is a wavelength

god might say he is love
but look into the shadows of your soul 
to what you preach and what has been done 
what you do

poisoning the well
look in the mirror 
 pray to whoever you want

the truth about love lies in the knowledge

trust is not an issue
you are here to help mend  one anothers pains
not give up and let god
 that is not doing anything
cop out and god will look at you and say sorry 
you sold each other souls to Satan 
greedy game of wedding rings 
expensive ceremonies 
youre not soulmate


Details | Free verse | |

The place within the fire part II

and still nobody has a clue
i escaped and cheated death
they think i'm playing the system
but im truly insane
confused and terrified of this ghost hunting me down

the palce withing the original fire is a story 
not everyone knows
something you catch glimpses of only through word of mouth
there are few who know the facts
and less who witnessed its terror first hand
but the shocking truth is
not every metaphor of a prayer 
made by a player 
who has method to his madness
gets sorted out fast enough
when there is no witness protection program for those who know nothing

so my broken fireplace and the fire in the room
my chanting and struggle
the story of witches and dreams of prophecies and terrorism
even my resume
for i worked at a restaraunt called the flame

it was a protest
now its metaphysical chess
i did my time
played my next card
and im witing for my next turn to see how fate reacts
but soo far i know
i truly dont like this game!

the fire inside my soul burns everyday
if you only knew
if i could only tell you
if you only heard the voices and the whispers
the cackling witches and the smiles of the dangerous drug dealers

I just want them to know
i am sorry 
i am confused
i see it from the sides of all eyes of insanity and clarity
humor and tears
now i'm in the ghetto
haunting it
becoming the next ghost to save a life
it's like i really died but i only died inside

the broken fireplace 
the fire inside
the burnt offering of naked substitute teachings 
of alcoholic last names
of psychological warfared protest of drugs to save lives
you were my angel
i guess i was your demon
but no one but me really sees it from my eyes
about the story of the fire within
and all the things that were there