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Metaphor Spiritual Poems | Metaphor Poems About Spiritual

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Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Indian Ink

“Indian Accent”

Hear the whispers inside

Chanting from long ago
Echoes come and go
Losing time in a soft eternal glow

A beautiful and delicate autumn mountain scene
Dry blue eyes enchanting melodies!
Voices falling from the sky
Rising hymns release ancient demons that cling to the soul

The darkness dwells under gentle moonlight
Ancestors of the Spirit World,
Exposing Indian hands that weave native smoke into the air
Their spirits taunting burrows from the muddy Earth
Moccasin makers rise from underneath
Guardians of dream catchers
Smooth thread from the outer edge, bowing heads.
Luminous gems of ivory,
Chasing a florid kiss.

Through the winds of enchanted drums, voices cry out for rain.
The hollow chimes mesmerize  
An ancient rage begins to flare
Stale madness, 
The spears of the perfumed buffalo skin pierced my senses
Removing the veils that cover my eyes
The hands that cover my ears
Washing the scalp that bleeds on my face
They collect tears from memories of the past.

KINDRED IN EVERY WAY!

Raven silk braids, feathers fall from my hair.
Dancing in a horrid hallucination of Peyote,
Waking up from the “American Dream.”
Holding out my arms, I am free, I can fly.

I AM A BIRD!

By; PD


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Six empty shells II


Six empty shells II

Beneath the blinding sun she star'd askance;
as he was walking to abut his fate
a swirling, laughing wind began to dance
and playfully their lives to desecrate.

Despite the heat he wore the tailored suit 
of color black; beneath the Stetson's shade
his stare was sweeping the adjoining butte,
with dusty ghosts to mime some odd charade.

Replacing the six empty shells he turned
to see her worried glance beyond the blooms,
that innocent embellished unconcerned
the reckless, smiling braves aside their tombs.

The Smith and Wesson forty-fours then bucked,
she knew the blooming noon was ending fast
and nothingness neglected to obstruct
what fates adjudicated to recast.

She saw the brazen shells inside the dust;
monochromatic synthesis and hues
of sepia were blurring in the gust
that whirling sang their lonesome, Tombstone blues.

Beyond the turnpike, where the roads converge
some crowing birds were messaging the tale, 
the spinning wind was bringing up their dirge,
on the deserted Arizona trail.

© 2014-08-24, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic pentameter)


Details | Alliteration | |

THE LAST DAYS

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


Details | Free verse | |

Moments In Time

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

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

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

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


Details | 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 | Free verse | |

Reality's Angel

I am Reality’s angel resting on the broad shoulders of discovery the truth feeds darkness and engulfs its target ideas and concepts in turn become meaningless to you there is a creator of all things He is just and patient many still have fallen into the masses of shadow wrapped in their own filthy idols of philosophy I have seen grown men fall like rose petals and weaklings rise into unjust leaders forever the follower of furtive evil dominating only to remain inferior the most important answers lie in the unseen regions where no sense can fully give assurance the mind that so many unreasonably twist and turn grows weary because of the distance it must take and truth be told the distance is not what frustrates it is knowing we are seeking something far that could very possibly not exist, that our minds can twist into theoretical, idealistic nonsense it is knowing all we really think we know is meaningless and yes—even a lie all that has been written thus far rests under my wings under the warmth in which you refuse to feel can you believe in me— though I am completely unseen? how much more difficult would it be to see Him?


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 | Light Poetry | |

I Am MoonBee

" I  Am  MoonBee ... "

( Matt. 5: 14 - 16 )


I Am The Full Moon Rising
... and The Faithful Bee That Stings
I Bear The Sweet Drops of Honey
and Wear Lunar-Eclipses' Rings ...

... and once in a blue moon
or in the final moon of blood
I will wax and than wane
... and ride tidal waves to floods
( Acts 2: 17-20, 21 )

I Am The Silvery Moon
That Makes Night Oceans Gleam
... and The Bee Upon The Blossoms
In Seasons of Summer and Spring ...

... and once in a harvest moon
glowing generous and golden
I gather gardens, like bees
storing & spreading nectar-pollen 

Yet As The Full Moon Rises
and As The Bee Soars & Stings
The Brave, Little Bee Prepares To Die
As Moon Despairs Behind Cloud-Screens ...

... and Peeks Out As A Half-Moon
Yet - Still, Busy As A Bee
Still Reflecting Light & Truth
As Pure & Sweet As Fresh Honey ...

I Am The Crescent-Shape Moon
and The Bee's Honeycomb
and The Heart-Chamber of My Hive
Holds Moons 'Neath Heaven's Throne ...

I Am The Halo-Spotted Moon
and The Sound of Humming Bees
In Prayer-Swarms of Sacred Songs
I Declare In Moonlit-Melodies ...

... and once by a midnight moon
in marching scenes of sky
set as signs & times & cycles
& measure-symbols for earthkind's eyes
( Gen. 1: 14-18 )

I Am The Full Moon Rising
Yet Falling Softly Upon Seas
That Care & Colonize Like Bees
& Bear Messages of Great Kings ...
( Matt. 28: 18, 19, 20 )

... and once in a hunter's moon
in shades of yellow and black
there shone glimpses of paths & visions
where moon kept sight & tracks

I've A Luminary Lamp
Like The Moon In Full Glory
I've A Duty To People & Purpose
Like A Queen Bee's Story ...

I Am The Full Moon Rising
... and The Faithful Bee That Stings
Yet, I Share Much Healing Honey
and Bear Many, Bright Moonbeams ...

- for I am the devout MoonBee
pollinating & polishing dreams -


    Written & Copyrighted ©:  5/22/2014
                by:  MoonBee  Canady


Details | Free verse | |

Cherokee

Cycling through time;
this wrack of flesh fleets on.
Spinning indifferently on a compressed 
ball of mud.
Pulsing and thumping against 
the deafening destiny of becoming
a part of what it was spat unto.
Sipping the blood of my father,
seeking understanding.
The wine of revelation is an 
acquired taste and so I tend 
to use it for marinating my 
battered will. 
I pray alongside songs of my peers,
and hope I can stand the flames
I am sure to meet;
This world is full of fire,
and I am it’s smoke
accumulating under blankets
held by my ancestors.
I am their story.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved


Details | Free verse | |

a leaf fallen

a leaf fallen...

a leaf fallen to the ground cannot be placed back upon the branches of the tree...

a leaf fallen is separated from the nourishment of the trunk or the roots...

a leaf fallen can never be what it once was as it dries up and lies separated from its main source of energy...

its edges curled and the moisture being drawn like water from a well...

a leaf fallen is tossed and turned and blows with no direction from the wind...

it has no control over its destination...

it lies lifeless and abandoned, crunchy, and beneath the feet of the enemy...

a leaf fallen...

gwendolen rix
12-17-14


Details | Free verse | |

The Color Missing

The Color Missing
Red, black, and blue are the colors of our work pens. Red is the color of the blood we spill on other people’s mistakes.  Blue is the color of the songs we sing on tax forms or pay stubs- every page has a secret melody. Black is the color of the streets we fear most. Black is the color of our signature of approval. Black is the color of our death.

‘But what about the Green pens?’ I ask. They say ‘the ink is too hard to see.’


Details | Dramatic monologue | |

The Game

My life has been one enormous charade,
A make believe game,
A play I have played, 
A story I tell myself, day and night,
Hidden from myself, out of sight,
A game of hide and seek,
While searching for something else to eat.

The game,
A cosmic game,
A comic game,
A bad joke,
A puff of smoke,
A laugh,
A bath,
A lonely path,
The Game.

I used to take it so seriously,
Think it, feel it so real, so perfectly,

So certain I that was right,
That I lived in the light,
So convinced that I knew the rules,
So obvious I had all the tools,
That I saw the truth, 
That I saw the light,
Would win the battle, win the fight.


Heard the sound of the distant drum,
Calling me to battle with the devious one.
The walls of my ego were high and mighty,
My dreams and delusions danced in front of me,
Their smooth dark surface impossible to climb,
Images I swallowed and thought were mine.


I made them alive, moving and real,
Twist and turn like a slimy eel,
Just to tell myself that I was still someone,
Playing in the game and having lots of fun,
Just to tell me and to tell you,
That I wasn't a loser,
So I wouldn’t hear the words game over.


Game over,
Check and mate,
Here's the gate,
You have to take,
Out of the Game,
The game of shame.


The game of avoiding being blue,
Of dogging the bullets they shot at you,
The atomic bomb they drop on your head,
The monsters that they put under your bed.


The game of hiding away,
Live to play another day,
Even if it's only make believe,
The prizes in plastic,
And not worth a dime,
At least I have the impression that they are mine,
At least I don't fell the pain,
The pain of shame,
In this perverted game.


So that I don't feel I'm a prisoner,
Tied to this post,
Don't even realise that I'm only a ghost,
That the truth is well hidden,
On the board of the game.

That the prizes are in plastic,
But they are shiny and new,
The paint hardly chipped,
The emptiness hardly shows through,
The laughing is loud,
The smiles are all warm and friendly,
And we are all together,
Joyful and happy.


The illusion is REAL,
And only the mad man knows,
That it's a rotten deal.

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


Details | Haiku | |

The Internet: Return

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


Details | Free verse | |

Just Be

Sometimes I admire the littlest things
A simple rock. A blade of grass. 
They need no future goals, no tax exemptions
They don’t need to go anywhere or be anything
They just are. 

Sometimes, especially when I’m reading life insurance policies,
I envy the rocks and the grass
And try to be like them for a moment. 
I sit perfectly still and give myself to the wind-
And it whispers in my ear:
Just be.
And for that moment I don’t need to go anywhere or be anything.
And at the snap of my fingers, 
All the complex widgets and gizmos that make up my life
Fold into paper airplanes and fly off in the wind.

Jacob Reinhardt
10/07/13


Details | Elegy | |

Autumn Leaves

I first met Autumn when I was very, very young,
she was just a shy, quiet girl, but so very bright.
These maple trees were our favorite to play among,
as our laughter faded away with the falling sunlight.

I can still see her brown sweater, and reddish-orange hair,
blowing around her smiling face, like a flickering flame.
Her innocent voice still whispers on October's cool air,
near the place, where our lonely swing remains the same.

As the summer days said goodbye, and welcomed September,
the death of my dear, young friend came all too soon.
Autumn was one of those whom you'd always remember,
her soul was as beautiful as the shining, harvest moon.

She was here, then gone, leaving words that were never spoke,
to this day, I have never understood why Autumn had to leave.
Her presence lingers on the wind, like drifting wood-smoke,
as once a year, her playful spirit arises on All Hallow's Eve.




August, 4th, 2014


Details | Verse | |

Wildflowers

Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
 She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell     then came the ice, this went on for months.

The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
 I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.

They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves.  Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
 
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday. 
as they were called WEEDS ..
 The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.

However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .

The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
 Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
  She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

The Choice

The World

My work is over time to head on home
Made lots of money trading stocks on-line
I told my secretary she could leave 
Askance my traders quid pro quo was fine 

I entered elevator floor nine-teen
Pushed ground floor button number one then saw
Another door to lift laid opposite
Impossible, turned ready to withdraw

The Devil's Minion

Unable to escape the way I came
The capsule doors on other side agaze
Was drawn out by a large, dark silhouette
Inside a narthex three closed doors ablaze

I listened to malefic force within
Effulgent scuttles have distracted me
With ears submitting to an evil force
On knees established I forlornly see

The Choice

The devil's minion utters chilling words
“You worldly man you face deserving death”
“You will be given one last stabbing choice”
“You get to choose a door with your last breath”

If there's a god I pray you save my soul
The dark and eldritch spirit yield a laugh
He said “each door is named must pick one now”
“Not fair” I said, he showed me golden calf

Door number one depicted the word ME
Door number two was written the word YOU
Door number three aglow with the word HIM
“What in the hell am I supposed to do ?

I looked at evil spirit's saber drawn
With my last breath I ran to a new dawn

_____________________________________________________


Details | Blank verse | |

Life Is But A Show

Life's a show, So when it ends, We all have to let go.


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

Crow


The ghostly town unfolds in air
harmonic drapes - his soul's bestow;
aright reveals the bird's despair
the cold winds blow upon the crow.

The mind ascribes to open sails
inside the mists, upon the waves,
on broken strings the mode avails,
the emptiness of skyward graves.

The ghostly town records crow's wrong
and then invents dimensions yon,
beyond birds' step the feasts belong
stars' open Halls invite and conn.

Denounced immures - upon the slopes
distrait his hope - ascends effused
disporting fate Atropos gropes,
emending those who reigns refused.

The ghostly town torn scopes imbues
inside the air will play and glow,
with colored lights and hearths' red hues,
those dreams that cling in falling snow.

And how beyond the lone bird flies
stars are beclouded from the slopes
symbolic largess rains from skies,
and laughs the crow at his own scopes.

© 04-14-2013, G. V., All Rights Reserved
( Iambic tetrameter form.)


Details | Free verse | |

The Autumn Affect

There's something unspecific about the autumn nights
A certain shade of color that uplifts my inner child's eyes
Beside a cashmere moon Venus and Jupiter shine bright
Complimented by a sea of blinking infinite twilight
The scent of burning oak lingers in the air from home made fires
Reminiscent of a time when this man was just a child
Careless and so free to dream and any dream to live
Like feathers floating across a field carried by the wind
As a gentle breeze blows through the leaves shivering delightful gloom
Unlike flowers of springtime the disheveled autumn vibrance bloom
Leaves crackle beneath my feet along the skeleton tree path
Where I try to find my peace or a song to make me laugh
The air is so much crisper and also soothing when I breathe it in
Underneath a starry sky and brighter constellations of Heaven
Amidst the trail I pass a lovely couple holding hands
While their children run aside frolicking in a playful dance
An old man and his wife admire the view from a wooden bench 
With smiles on their face as if nostalgia is still their closest friend
Its these specific autumn affects that bring me sorrows and joy
Reminding me of all theses things Ive wanted as a man since I was a little boy 
Its times like these that I wish I wasn't always so alone
Because I would light an fire with my family and call it home


Details | Free verse | |

the Rose


                 The Rose innocent white, soft pink, yellows 
                colors touch your soul vibrant red to amethyst

                enhances beauty yet a thorn awaits to break skin
                as life does piercing your heart with a thin pin.

                My life has shed drops of blood through each petal
                 as if in return for the love and beauty you feel

                hence pain underneath patiently waits the bloodletting ~

                The rose symbolizes love yet vulnerable to hold
                for when you open your heart it can be left bleeding

                The best of surgeons can not beat your heart
                It is the inner faith and God himself whom gives strength 

                whispers in your ear you shall live you will exist
                your life meaningful as the water and sun to the rose

                 For I am your God  your existence is not over yet .
                        You must Live ~You must Bloom 
                       
                 


Details | Epic | |

Trilogy


She splendid came before the light of dawn,
Emerged from Halls of deep memoir's efface;
'Let me express my love in eyes and ways,
before death turns me back to granite stone.'

Embraced were we while the winds raced moaning,
our strings of lives joined outside of mute grief;
there was a hope left when the arcane Nymph
fled East, towards the first light of morning.
..............

Unvirtuous sons of metamorphosis,
vociferous assault - lives to degrade,
with cymbals' wrothly thump, my land invade,
drums' beat enacts my apotheosis.

They cut me thrice and once as I slaughter,
grotesque barbarians, that fight entranced;
I prayed to dawns' refulgent light; enhanced
their monstrous growls fly with a twilit bird.

Accented their trilogy - immoral,
from deep wounds - inferior weep their cries,
euphoric Spring forces them to baptize
in anaphoric flowing red to flora.
..............

She splendid came before the light of dawn,
Emerged from Halls of deep memoir's efface;
'Let me express my love in eyes and ways,
before death turns me back to granite stone.'

© G.V. 10-04-2012, All Rights Reserved


Details | Sonnet | |

Last Breath

You were a shining Star.
Few of many in the sky.
Looking up so very high,
Not knowing why you are.

Close and set you are far.
Spinning flames  knot a tie,
I note a pattern just like pi.
Colliding with me you spar.

So burn it up and burn away,
Sow your heart upon a plane.
Chart your distance in the clay.
Burn it all up then call it sane.

The explosion in the sky is His death.
All burned up He has no last breath.

(R) Registered:  2013  Ann Rich


Details | Iambic Pentameter | |

fenetre bleu


fenêtre bleu

The sky embraced night's darkened silent shout
outside your bleu fenêtre, alone I stood,
my mind succumbed to null - and crossed to doubt
- a broken model made from balsa wood.

The foolish daughters of the gusts - (some thought!),
came to escort sky's sovereign tears - clouds shed,
you fled above; sepia contrast - and naught,
in air the photograph adheres - my wed.

And then the vastness chose to die - (my soul!)
in that same dream I kissed your palms - and craved,
soul's longitudes that sing and lie - stand tall,
deep burns this solitude's realms - engrave.

In air suspending a newspaper folds
remote's her dance, that renders winds approach
her insignificance my spirit holds,
before the window mends my blue night thoughts.

© G. V. 03-22-2013


Details | Lyric | |

Coming From Where I'm From

Coming from where I’m from
By Nate Spears
Published 2013 in “Death OF A Rose” By Nate Spears


Coming from where I’m from
Every day is a battle to survive 
War is in session 
Right before our eyes

Each day we battle lessons
Just to be in the running for blessings
Coming from where I’m from
We move rapidly on missions

The dead is alive with every walk of the lifeless 
Limited income withholds wealth
The living is near death
Spirits are stripped of guilt

Coming from where I’m from
Deprived wealth
Creates bad health 
In occurrence to this 
Good feelings are killed


The worst gets exposed 
As times get worse
Financial situations become a disaster
No man on earth can rehearse
 
The world is broken
Hunger brings harm
Coming from where I’m from
Dictatorship is not fond

The environment brings the need to shoot
These activities loosens the roots
We’re grounded by values as thin as a pin
We lose ourselves at falling rates like bowling pens

No free passes
Prisons filled in masses
Separated by classes
Coming from where I’m from.



Details | Alliteration | |

a little ration

Heat my heart I hear a hero
this soul soothed, stilled, and silenced
golden, growth, gave me a guru
within, wild, waiting to whisper
I inclined, initiate impossible
imagine infinite isn't so infamous
IMHO SMH serves no justice
TKO LOL no need omega
delighted to deliver dharmic direction
self-appointed steward of selfless
practiced not perfect, positive portions
critical for compassionate connections
we, world, will win, with unity
culture continues to counter crosses
mediated meeting my middles merciful
If you think you know then answers pass by
not one mind built this vision
landmine lands filled with landfills
minus minding multiple menaces
covet care cause its a rare case
corporate ladder, or conscious staircase
choices chastised, for coursing courageous
caring contagious, counting on cowards
evils aired aren't left faceless
sights for sure are sore from wayside
be the change to see a day is seized
stay cold-hearted and this place will freeze


Details | Haiku | |

roots

Ruth by the window;

eating an  yogurt...

it's hurts the road of memory.


Details | Haiku | |

Haikus About God: VI

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


Details | I do not know? | |

'Give me drink, rest, and solitude'

Give me drink, rest, and solitude--
these are all the things I long for.
Give me as well your finest food
and I'll ask of you, lass, no more!

My bonnie lass, what's the matter--
why are you all sorry and alone?
Don't be sad because you're fatter
than most, lass, for love loves its own.

Sweet lass, I'll tell you a secret.
If I were a young lad again,
I'd pursue you without regret!
But as I am three-score and ten

years old, indeed, I can never
be the youthful lad you most need.
But your pain won't be for ever:
for your heart will refuse to bleed.




Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

The Promise

When meanings have been broken,
When your cross has been uncrossed,
When the reasons that you gave me,
In the labyrinth have been lost.
When your house has been emptied,
When your bedroom is swept clean,
I will come and wake you,
From your long and endless dream.

more at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Couplet | |

Life

Life is like a hurricane.

Life, is like a heavy rain.

A lake of pain like lake Baikal.

Tears, flow like a waterfall.

People are like granite stone;
in the end your'e left alone.

But what of the good things?

Like the sound of when a church bell rings?

Or the miraculous, beautiful way 
one helps another through troublesome day?

Tragedies of life aren't fun, 
but in the end we learn a ton.

Though pain we do remember,
the flame eventually turns to ember.

You see, the thing about walking through earth each day, 
is The King turns the curse to a healthy pathway.


Details | Free verse | |

A Departing Memory

I know you.
Candles lit, incense fuming,
You like it when I bite your neck, just hard enough.
Blankets thrown about the room
So recklessly, they refold themselves.

And we roll down a hill together,
Kissing the leaves, tickling with our eyes,
Laughing with our hearts.
"You'll just leave me for the next girl you find."
"Yes," I say. Because only
Nothing
Lasts forever.
And it spills through the cracks in your hands
The moment you grasp it.
Like water from a stone.
She bites my neck
Drawing lines of ecstasy down my back with her fingernails
Spilling into me, fighting my words.
"I leave when the sun sets."




Details | Verse | |

Inevitable Bear

Oh lonely Inevitable Bear,
Padding claws, death in white
Sorrow in recurring nightmare
Instinct’s test; fight or flight?

Camouflage against the fence,
A challenge; my subconscious fear
Ominous slowly moving silence,
“Let me in, there’s a bear out here!”


Details | Verse | |

Philosophical Poetry Week: Transient Tuesday

I am a misprint,
Ink blot on love,
I remain a maybe
Longing for fact,
No speck of lint,
A hand in glove.
Thunder; a baby
Will only react

When you etch
Parallel clouds,
Whistling on cue
To a dead town.
Dream a sketch
Of silent crowds
Becoming you,
This boiling crown

Chews thought
Into flagellation.
Holes in the walls
To spy through,
Seeking a sort
Of bricked-up sun.
A heaven of halls,
All leaving you.


Details | I do not know? | |

My Wishes are Simple





My Wishes are Simple


My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.



My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.



My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.





Details | Lyric | |

A person I've met before

You are a person i've met before.
The man who stands knocking at my door.
I remember you from my dreams,
Your eyes sparkle and your smile gleams.

You held the door open as I ran in for shelter from the cold weather & rain.
You are the man I stood next to in line.
You are the man I passed by
I danced as you sang the songs chorus.
I pushed my way through...
the sea of people and stopped next to you.
Amidst the crowd we stood, searching for a way out
I looked around, I glanced in your direction, I looked past you 
I found my way out, I hurried my way through.
I walked away having not met you.

A second glance, I did not take,
unaware that our meeting was fate.

You are a person i've met before,
Sometime ago on a night like tonight,
The air was warm, the stars shining bright
The night that we met,
I danced that night, I danced and danced until the morning light
I sat to lay my feet to rest, you came to me no different from the rest
You asked me for a cigarette.
An open chance to conversate 
knowing this interaction would not lead to a date
We shared thoughts and ideas of similar interests.
such as music and poetry, art and astrology.
At the time I thought nothing of it, a casual meeting of the mind.
Little did I know, I would continue to meet you throughout my lifetime.

You are a person i've met before,
I've read your book of poetry at the local book store.
you write of life, love and family.
You are a person i've met before,
I've seen your paintings, they are hard to ignore
You are the artist I dream of meeting
You are a person i've met before.

You are the man in my dreams, 
Your eyes sparkle and your smile gleams.
I've met you 100 times before,
You are the man who stands knocking at my door.


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 | Couplet | |

The prison of the keys

And now I've lost my papers,
My passport and my wife,
The very essence of
My identity and life.

My bank account is empty,
My cloths and garments sold,
My skin and bones are ashes,
Spread thin on the open road.

My old car's broken down,
No wheels to touch the floor,
The motor been dismantled,
Stripped clean down to the core.

The bailiffs and the policemen,
Have emptied my abode,
The promises I made you,
Have been auctioned out and sold.

The love I hold within me,
Is all that I now have left,
The rest is bleak illusion,
The bind man and the deaf.

The imaginary people ,
I thought were my friends,
Have left the scene forever,
As the road of life does bend.

And now I stand alone,
Upon this lonely hill,
I gaze upon the meanings,
The years have silently killed.

In the roaring storms of thunder,
In the lightning in the night,
In the whispering of the children,
In the white doves lonely flight.

In the dust of many ages,
That has settled on my soul,
In the ashes of my humanity,
That has filled my begging bowl.

The ancient breeze is blowing,
Calling me to my knees,
To behold the light within me,
In the prison of the keys.

more at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Prose | |

Wonderboy

He spends his nights cold, and full of desperate wonder. Pondering time; and his place amidst the infinite mass around him. For as he pleads for his eye lids to fall, he knows the planet he inhabits
is doing just that: falling. Spinning into nothing. “Where am I going?” He thinks. “Do I even care?”. His lids finally give in and he becomes lost in dreams of “what may, or may not be”.
At times he becomes sullen and afraid; others he feels an unexplainable nirvana that he's never been able to fully grasp.
 
Infinity has that effect on the mortal I suppose. And, with a mind perpetually tossing hypothetical wisdom and theoretical truths; He watches his shadow twinge away from the light that he is compelled to follow. And his soul dances in a state of disenchantment, trying to find rhythm in a world of chaos.
All the while his tongue searches through sour notes and intimate whispers, his minds lays still on the fading memory of innocence and unconditional love. Savoring the serenity of spellbound grace and relentless joy; something to be missed by a sinner's palate.
 
 What is a boy to do?
 
He finds himself rowing the challenges of a man in a world that favors the strong. And yet, his trembling arms seek nothing resembling operative strength. He seeks only love, and finds comfort in the idea potrayed by his imaginative heart.
 
But is it real?
Or an oasis languishing before a foolish boy?
 
The test of a man is surely an atrocious endeavor that this young fledgling cowers beneath tonight.
His eyes journey toward the stars as his soul races to quantify the elaborate scheme poised above.
He can't help but curse the heavens, something he instantly regrets. He knows the luminous miracles beyond did not forsake his essence; It was his choices that begged for punishment.
 
And yet,
That very thought is something to be cherished.
For its appraisal is a catalyst for his evolution.
 
 
 
-James Kelley 2011©


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Blood on the Mirror

You prod at the sores of your heart
with a hemorrhaging pen, wishing it was 
a scalpel; so you could carve 
out the disease that keeps 
your rage alive. 
Basic instinct, I suppose.
To slay the demons,
that made you who you are. 
You thank them for your posture,
but scold the obsidian eyes in the 
mirror. What you have become:
Callous, and engulfed in the 
rotting theater you thought 
you controlled. The reigns 
have broken loose, your 
skull whips in the wind of 
chaos. It’s not really your 
sort of dance, you know…
                                      You don’t know the steps
              …you don’t even know the song. 
It drums against your flesh
as if you were already stripped 
and tanned, spread across 
the hallowed instruments 
                             of reckoning.
But you can’t hear the chant,
only the distant hum of the
butcher who said you could
call him “friend”.
That you were safe,
if only you would show him
what you promised you would
never show anyone.
It drips,
            thick,
                      coagulated,
                                           dirty.
Just like every part of you,
you wish you could burn;
As you dig the covenant,
into the flesh of your enemy;
                                          Your only true, enemy. 
The mirror cracks…
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

The Rain Dance

The window panes shuddered
as he crawled back into his bed 
of disillusion; waiting for 
lightning to strike him 
 into some state 
of normalcy.
The sky groaned at his
naked body, a gift of
mockery laid beside 
him, bantering with 
his need for her to stay.
She always left something
behind, maybe it was an 
excuse for her to return? 
Or was her mind really
that far away when he
was near?
He let the talisman 
turn between his 
fingers, and tried to
think of a proper prayer
for the occasion. 
Nothing came to mind.
Instead, 
he allowed the stone figure
to contemplate his eyes
and waited for her
to come back again.
She was the only one
that could ever make 
it rain.
-James Kelley 2012, All rights reserved.


Details | Ode | |

Bathsheba

The juggler moves his fingers fast, 
he likes to smile and to deceive, 
when people laugh at his recast, 
his goal's higher things to achieve, 
for Bathsheba applauds and laughs.

Her hands she claps with sullen glee, 
changed him to a marionette, 
that sprawls for her obediently, 
       jinxed tragicomical duette, 
       he jumps defeating gravity.

The juggler walks on tightened rope, 
St. Bernard will protect his act, 
frail equilibrium's postponed, 
he'll pass across, crows' croaks detract, 
agleam granite pavement's below.

Unmoved he laid, (lost souls misgive) , 
the juggler sprawled did not bemoan, 
the sawbones's charlatan and thief, 
as Bathsheba failed to dethrone, 
the clown's tangential unknown grief.

© G. V. 12/23/2012, All Rights Reserved
( Iambic tetrameter form.)


Details | Free verse | |

Embers of a dream

Lord, I don't understand.
Maybe I never did.
The destination of the path seemed so grand,
yet now it looks horrid!

Why?

The dragon You've placed, mine to fight
still breathes fire and brimstone in my neck,
but I'm armoured with incapability to smite
and the cobblestones You paved lead to this wreck.

Why?

I dreamt of the moon,
but couldn't reach the stars,
so I drifted into the sun and soon
I would be burnt with scars.

Why shroud my mind with dreams of peace at daylight's bend,
yet shred it with horrors at night?
Why let me pursue a rainbow when 
there never was an end?

The past is bathed in murky waters
and clothed in miry clay.
Now the future looks no better
and mere words can't express what I wish to say.

Lord, here I lay at Your mercy,
angry and heartbroken.
You don't make mistakes and You set free.
Please, I beg be my beacon!
Loose the shackles,
break the chains
that I may serve You again.
Show me the true way You planned,
for I have reached the end of this one.


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 | |

Values

hip hip hurrah, herc shot hera
sick sad era, tri city terror
dirty land lover, lips hit terra
karma bent over,  messenger error
never say neva, davin say better
no pain no gain, accept the rainy weather
paint a pic pretty , slip on slick cities
have a lot of lovers, none top sarah
no what im knowing, dont want a slow down
respect is expected, never threw a hoe down
zeus with an entourage, party never undersized
tities no mardi gras, let loose like karamazovs
other moment ostracized, flow never oxidize
freaky with an extra eye, good times multiply
mr go getter, killed the baby sitter
no one does it sicker, crazy cause I know I die

we gots to live, like this life is the last
we cant plan the future, no change for the past
im a make the most before my ghost has to crash
blast thru the basic come away with the cash

one trick pony, faulty cause its special
colts get bolted, stuck in their mental
yellin out mommy, darwin wasnt gentle
change for survival or b**** shut your dental
d*** headed central, quick wit essential
lifes experimental, body a holy temple
soul instrumental for flying to light levels
trying a tight bevel tieing a rhyme pretzel
spy verse spy verbal, try to size circles
circumsize virgos, turpentine turbo
egos in slow mo, vertigo a go go
ho ho flow curdled, tossed into inferno
my syllable allegro caused a bloody gurgle
my soliquoy symbols,  got my butt buddies hurtful
enemies closer choked till their purple
envy nocturnal to my bright concerto

we gots to live, like this life is the last
we cant plan the future, no change for the past
im a make the most before my ghost has to crash
blast thru the basic come away with the cash

four arm charmer, mystic in the making
awake no alarmer, physically shaking
visibly debating, if misery is waiting
shake till its fading, without hesitating
didi waits for no one, i happen to grow some
dropped as a we lad, learned by my lonesome
others had a helping, served me a surprise
no need to refy, interest past the demise
loan me a pice of mind, no need for a slice a pie
history wasn't lies, just under another guise
repition important, reputation not fortune
though I was fortunate, it was hard to notice horton
praise to the doctor, metaphors for healing
been a force with feeling, opens doors in ceilings
benefits appealing, to consumers when teething
people angry competing, without finding a meaning 

we gots to live, like this life is the last
we cant plan the future, no change for the past
im a make the most before my ghost has to crash
blast thru the basic come away with the cash


Details | Free verse | |

Eternal Dream

When I begin to meditate
About the life before now
And the life that is due to prevail
Deep in this thought
I heard calls from no where
 Chanting into my ears
A note of warning
“Don’t let the trees surrounding
 This wide fence fall”
Amid this puzzling call
I unearth from a far
Mix voices flaunting a goal
“We will not sheathe our swords
Until all our desires come to pass”
In between these dilemma I inquire
On whose command will lives live?

20/6/2013


Details | Lyric | |

Pledge Not The Allegiance

It's the third verse,
I got the urge to purge
All the curt words I've splurged,
I've submerged in sin,
I'll go to church repent,
Then go curse again,
Lets reverse this trend
We nurse tolerance,
When it might offend,
If I white wash my fence,
So try to not get tense,
When I do not defend, 
Those who chose to be dense
And not use their two cents,
To show kids the reverence,
For the pledge of allegiance.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

THE PROPHECY

     You are just old man spinning wheels trying to live for a million years.
You are just an apple tree chopped down trying to re-root from the ground.
     Your hatefulness means naught because your life is facing the judgment of God.
You are just an old elderly man gambling his months when he has been told to 
     rest his heart.
You been misguided by your ministry and damned by the demons of the innocent.
     The Arabs Kings cannot save your soul from your hellhole chosen by Jehovah.
So pay for your gravesite and bid the world goodbye.
     This is the advice given to a life prophesized.

The Monks gave the gift to you.
     You refuse to follow the truth.
You were brought into a new world.
     Blessed by the chosen one, eccentric he became.
Pakistan is your brother country.
     You are of foreign blood.
Why have you thrown a stone at the righteous?
     Your hatefulness means not anything.
You will be confronted by the acumen of the Lord Jehovah God.

     Adieu…
________________________________________________________|
PENNED ON AUGUST 29, 2014!


Details | Rhyme | |

heart, mind, and soul

father time in my chest
keeper of its own pace
just skin and bone depth
influences time and space
what are we but drifters
 in an unknown

see truth in a literal
belief before my face
stars with no funeral
light will win the race
here i am, not for long
death starts at home

where is this leading?
which story could it be?
despite all my reading
writings the cup of tea
i dont need to know it all
as long as im not alone



Details | Romanticism | |

Prime Mover

Like the seraphs whose wings unfold,
Christ's light and glory goes not untold;
as the love of his humble grace
moves inside me all time and space,

as the planets orbit heaven's sun
and encircle it one by one--
so, too, am I caught in his sway,
beloved of him from day to day.

Through hosts of astral dimension
God's angels fix their attention
with expectancy and burning pause
amidst the universe's First Cause.

He, the one true Incarnation  
that begets cosmic causation,
resolves the Infinite Regress
from the pre-Socratics' egress

with his omniscient wisdom
and the archives of his kingdom
where all can come and read and know
what miracles he'll yet bestow.


Details | Free verse | |

My Metaphysical Monument To JAH


(1 Kings 8: 27)



I Would Build  YOU  Seven Pillars
Made of Pearls of Such Dimension- Prized
I Would Build  YOU  Ten Giant Columns
Made of Pure Crystals Up To The Skies

And On That Holy Edifice
of 400 Cubits Elevated To Size
I Would Build  YOU  A Thunder-Temple
A Thousand Stories High

This Would Be My Metaphysical Monument To  JAH ...

And Inside The Thunder-Temple
I Would Build A Lightning-Fire
It Would Burn A Flame of Love So Hot & Bright
That Lasts Forever & Never Die

I Would Place  YOUR Name  On A Pedestal Throne
of Precious Gems - No One Could Pry
Of Such Height & Depth & Length 
& Everlasting Arms Wide 

This Is My Metaphysical Monument To JAH ...

O' My Rock of Ages  ... Because  YOU  Are My Strength
& My Fondest & Most Fervent of Ties
I Would Construct This On A Mountain Top
That Stands Up Past A Million Miles

It Would Touch The Moon In Reflection
And The Stars Would Be Inspired
and Eclipse Every Man-Made Structure
& Orbit  In  YOUR  Eyes

This Is My Metaphysical Monument To  JAH ...

I Would Fill The Air With Perfumed Prayer
Celestial, Sparkled-Incense Would Rise
I Would Fill The Space With Music
& Exalt  HALLELUJAH  In Chimes!

I Would Bow Down In YOUR Beauteous Presence
In The Aisles & Among All Tribes
& Exult In The Awesome  Atmosphere
of YOUR Essence So Wise

... In My Metaphysical Monument To  JAH ...

I Would Fill It With  All  YOUR  Worshipers
& All  YOUR  Wonders  & Praise  Realized
& We'd Sing My Metaphysical Monument
In Paradise ...   To  JAH !

This Is My Metaphysical Monument                
And Yes, This Vision Is Heaven-Sent      
Spirit-Height & Depth & Width & Length          
In My Whole-Soul, Solar-Sacrament            

&  My Devotion's Endless Measurements      
Built From A Bonafide & Blessed Blueprint        
Constructed Thru Carpenter's Consent           
& With The Master-Worker's Instruments         

It Will Tower-Up In Testament !                
So All Will Know - Everywhere I Went               
It's  The Metaphysical Monument                  
My HalleluJah - Horizon-Event!                       

... My Metaphysical Monument  ... To  JAH
 

              Written & Copyrighted ©:  9/27/2013 
                        by:  MoonBee Canady


Details | ABC | |

Metepora

What lies beneath 
The flooding drains
A spiders web
Spawned of rustic chains
If you ask me how I am 
I'll reply that I'm ok
Hiding behind this mask
As I resume to face this day
Then theres the sights
A synonym of what I cannot find in you
But I have found
Sometimes hunger is the only kind of food
Have I lost my Faith?
Its something that I could never see
Then theres your eyes
Still falling away from me
But if I was a better man
Would your rivers run deep into outer space
While all along your insisting
That we are both two worlds away 
Behold this longer list of denials
And uncertain hope
Reflecting fears of affection
And you still keep your eyes closed 
Then by my own admissions
My heart has grown from cold to colder
And by my own submissions
Losing your love has bled me sober


Details | Free verse | |

A Knocking

I was deep in my work
When I heard a knocking at my door.
I thought it was you, so I proceeded to ignore
I went back to typing,
And than I heard the door rumble once more,
I titled my eyes up the stairs,
And continued to ignore
As I went back to typing,
The next knock came near,
Expect it was louder, and more clear.
I stopped what I was doing,
And grabbed the knife by my bed
Just in case it was something crazy,
Like waking up to an axe murder next to your bed.
I opened my bedroom door,
And proceeded up the stairs
I got to the door; and than I stared
I took a deep breathe, and grabbed the handle at last.
I let out a slight gasp,
There was no one at the door,
At least, not from what I could see anymore.
I unlocked the handle,
And took a pick around
Not a soul to be found.
I sat at the door way for a short while after
And thought about why this incident mattered
Suddenly, it all became clear to me.
It was opportunity knocking at my door.
Telling me to stop being afraid
Letting me know that I was not alone anymore.
My heart filled with blood, and warmth,
I felt blessed to feel signs
Of a better life ahead.
No more sad day dreams,
Or thinking about sometimes life would be easier if I were dead.
The knocks had come for me
They reached out to my hand,
They let me know that I could be happy
They let me know, that I am now free.


Details | Haiku | |

Cosmonaut

Under starlit dome,
across the empty ocean,
I sail all alone.


Details | Free verse | |

Moon

Might I ask about what the moon means to you?
It means the world revolves in a transcending path with a satellite.
Why does the moon shine in the midnight sky?
It shines because it is a guide between the world of the dead and the living.

So does the moon fill the air with hope?
The moon itself is hope for people.
Why does the moon pull us in with such soul searching?
It is because we feel that the moon is part of our every day life.

Children who asks these questions; I have strive to tell them some truth,
And for the adults out there I created a little Moon lite poem to sooth.

So the moon is our light in the darkest hour of the night
With romance in the air that is so bright
We all hold hands once in a moonlit walk
And with such passion we would talk
The moon gives us our pull on each others heart
With a dinner that we take part
The ritual of wooing ones heart is a great feeling of love
The moon is always there to shine right above
In time we think we are blinded by the moon 
But to tell you the truth it reflects the sun light during midnight noon
It gives out a warmth in the darkness
We probably do not think of it less
Because the moon is our memories of our past 
It shows it everyday and night and always last

April 13, 2013


Details | I do not know? | |

I Stand, Alone



I stand, alone.

Scratching for my truths,
peeling away the veneer,

I stand, alone, before this
impregnable cliff so sheer.

Cocooned in my solitary shell,
wrenching a smile from a tear,

I stand, alone, a little odd,
and definitely quite queer.

I stand, alone.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Fire and Merlot

I remember the honeyed words,
and the
               ...anticipation
 of the touch that rendered time irrelevant.
I hear laughter in the next room;
astounded at the drunk and the blind.
it’s all so fleeting; we turn to dust in a heartbeat
                                                    ...fading
I speak in logic and move inside of thunder.
 as my skin is peeled away,
as shadowed eyes follow me,
and I feel fingers reaching from the grave,
 the familiarity of your nails scratching
down my back and ancient melodies we shared
that reflect our persistent missteps;
 the ones that buried me alive.
 
I remember the creaky floors that
carried you to our bed,
The crimson sheets where we danced;
We found harmony in this place
As the world stoked it’s flame around us.
 
I can still hear the echoes,
Distant and smoldering.
 
“My love was born in your eyes,
                   Don’t you ever look away.”
 
Your face hides in the mirror,
Lost inside my own empty stare.
 
You promised me forever.
But beneath this broken glass,
I can hear it all shatter.
 
 
Can you remember how you asked me
 if we could turn back time?
The ash that we laid to waste
 between your chains
and my misgivings set ablaze
in our lovemaking
Now time is timeless for you
 and I feel you, erotic in your ghosting touches
I still claw to hold on to this life
You're essence caresses and taunts me
your touch is warm, from the other side
 ...of this veil
Our hands release from their dance,
as your dead, coarse skin withers and dries
...no hope for a final embrace
 
But I can still taste your merlot stained lips;
The way they brushed against mine.
I can still feel your pulse rushing to meet
My own.
 
Your voice, and it’s promises.
 
“This world can burn us down,
                          But our ashes will be spread together.”
 
 
 
-Katherine Wyatt and James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Dramatic Verse (Verse Drama) | |

Signs

The signs are here, for all to see,
The thunder clouds, the dying tree.
The shining lights, that draw you near,
Loud heavy music, in your ear.

By word of mouth, or through cyber space,
The hidden pictures, of your face,
The northern lights, are dancing south,
The rumours you hear, by word of mouth.

The sign are falling, from the sky,
Raining stars, on the passers by,
While the battle rages, on underground,
The innocent dying, without a sound.

The cries of heaven, the screams in hell,
That no one hears, down in this well,
The terrible beauty, the open wound,
The innocent babies, in open tombs.
For all to see, for all to hear,
The blind man's painting, the deaf man's ear.

The birds are falling, the fishes drowned,
What once was up, has now become down,
The tender and loving, an empty shell,
The gross and the ugly, now the rallying bell.

The signs are here, for all to see,
Titanic sinking, on a blood red sea.

More poems at http://labyrinthoflies.com


Details | Verse | |

SURVIVOR, THAT I WILL BE

SURVIVOR, I WILL BE

Stripped me down from my clothes..
Yell at me until your throat get sore..
Speak to me with vile words..
Walk and talk to me like I am nothing...

Yes, It will hurt and pain me..
Probably, It may even make me cry..
Probably, It make me even on bended knees..
Probably, It will cause me loss of appetite and sleeplessness..

But, tell you what....

You can never take what I have..
You can never shove off that smile...
You can never erase the overwhelming love that's within me...
You can never make me fall...

I will rise up: " humbled not proud"
I will stand up: "learned not ignorant"..
I will smile even with tears: "joys not of hurts"
I will shout: "victory not of failures"...

By: olive_eloi
10/01/2013
1:08am

---------------


Details | Free verse | |

Into The Godly Realm - Let Us Go

(Rev. 21: 1-7 /  Rev. 21: 10-27  /  Rev. 22: 1-6  /  Rev. 4: 1-6  /  Dan. 7: 9, 10, 13, 14, 18 & 27)



Into The Godly Realm … O’ Let Us Go
Into The Splendiferous, Shining Sector!
To The Spiritual Site Where Ultra-Love Glows
by the Vibrant, Blindingly-Brilliant Light-Vector

Into The Godly Realm … O’ Let Us Go
GOD Has Invited Us Into HIS Kingdom!
The Resplendent, Royal City of Emerald Rainbows
& Radiant Pearl & Gold & Glass-Sheen-Domes

… Where Thunders, Horns & Harp String Tones
Join With Angels & Kings In Hallelujahs’ Choir-Songs!
and Residents Greet Citizens In True Fashion ‘Shalom’
and Are Welcomed Like Beloved Children Come Home

& Share The Fruit of Trees –  Sweetest Ever Known
A Righteous Reaping & Keeping Paradise Beautifully Grown
as Crystal Fountains & Rivers, Bubble Forth & Shone
… in The Sparkling Waters of Life’ Gleaming Zone!

… O’ Let Us Gaze In Awe – In Meek Gratitude
At The Greatness & Grandeur of GOD’s Estate!
Let Us Whisper In Respect-Muted Admiration
with Wiped Feet As We Walk A Street Called Faith

Let Us Gather ‘Round Devotedly – As A Great Crowd
Read Inscriptions On The Precious-Gem Cornerstone
of The City’s Foundation, As Opened Fortress Beckons
To Jeweled Temple & Ancient of Days, Treasure-Throne!

Walk With Baited Breath & Bowed Hearts & Heads
As Joyful Tears Pool In Our Beaming Eyes!
As Into The Godly Realm … We Have Ventured
& Entered ‘The Archway’ Supports For All  Skies

O’ My Brothers, My Sisters, My Family & My Friends
O’ Let Us Go … Into The Glorious Godly Realm …
Where We Have Been Invited To HIS Garden Party
Where Each One of Us Will Get To Speak … with HIM!

All You HIS Faithful Ones – Who Awaited Kingdom Come
O’ Let Us Go … Into The Glorious Godly Realm …
To The Place Where The Holy of Holies Is Situated
O’ Get A Glimpse of  Heavenly, New Jerusalem!

Into The Glorious Godly Realm … O’ Let Us Go!
Up To Clouds & Zion’s Mountain-Top Location
As Earth Becomes – The Global Promised Land
Yes, Humans’ Own Homefront, Habitat Space-Station

(Yes, This World’s First Honorable United Human Nations)

… and Into The  Godly Realm … GOD Will Let Us Go
… into The Splendiferous, Spectacular Sector!
Into The Spiritual Area – Where Eternity Roams
Close To The Vibrant & Blindingly-Brilliant, Light-Vector


                           Written & ©:  7/13/2013

                           By:  The MoonBee


Details | Free verse | |

Go Figure those Weeblitz Cry the Walliforth

“Go Figure…Those Weeblitz”… cry the Walliforth!
By Ingrid Showalter Swift

Of Walliforth...the Dreggors Gorth!
with calls of frobulation
The Spraliwongs do bleet and frong 
In roudious trapulation
the Wonder Bigiums flaunt their sternest defra-get-ulation!!!

but  still moril !
in magical mill…… in marvelous migration…
the Weeblitz sing 
a lilty wing
…………………of stupendous  
Glora…derid…eration


Details | Free verse | |

Anatomy of Destiny

Every letter that makes up a story of our future or fate,
is deeply dyed in everything we come across, and we'll
come across in the future; may it be the moonlight, rivers,
lover, book, television, jungle,....anything your eyes have
laid or will lay upon.

Our lives are made up of myriads of invisible letters;
letters that we can only see in deep silence. It is at
that moment that you are in a state of meditation,
that letters form words, words form paragraphs,
finally making a story of your entire life!


Details | Free verse | |

The blood you were given

Never throw punches at the rain,
don’t doubt the pain of the sane,
nor the deranged.
 
Never toss change into a fountain,
and hope for a wish that you haven’t 
earned just because you have a 
nickel to spare.
 
Never dream without company,
lies are most easily revealed with
another set of eyes.
 
Never rise out of bed,
without thinking of the consequences
of getting out of your own head.
 
Don’t fret about the chaos,
let it flow past your bones
and sizzle at your feet.
 
You are alive,
now prove it to the world
before you become a memory.
 
Make sure that you raged,
that you were boundless.
 
Become not just a memory;
become a living legacy.
 
This is your story.
 
Write it in the blood 
you were given.
 
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Sonnet | |

Kingdom Builders

July 31, 2013



Kingdom Builders

Holy Holy Holy I must say to all.
Long day hard day I am with you.
Hot day cold day it is for me too.
Days months or years you I call.

You have displayed my visual doll.
Multitudes of truth seeds you grew.
Spoken for as spoken words abrew.
I grant you the light in that dark hall.

Never say never!
Never look back!
I am yours forever!
I am with no lack.

I am always the hands of  filters,
Observing my Kingdom Builders.

(C) Copyright 2013  Ann Rich


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Fire and the Warrior

Out of the fire,
Life grows.
The flames burn strong, 
Bold,
And sear my soul.
My heart grows faint,
Weary.
The pain,
The intolerable pain,
Burning.

Yea, though I walk through the valley
Of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil;
I will fear no evil in the flames,
Searing,
Searching,
To cleanse my soul;
To release the Light
In the dark night
of my soul.

In the fire,
Love brings forth life
Out of pain;
Darkness exposed;
Evil released;
My heart cleansed
Set free;
Life grows.

Shall I endure
For lessons to be learned
And freedom to obtain?
Shall I wait upon the Lord
To be set free?
Will I persevere?

The Warrior rises up;
To fight;
To endure;
For victory is sought.
Out of fire
New life grows.

The journey long
And narrow is the way.
The day becomes night
My heart weary
Loses might;
Becoming faint;
Despair.

The Warrior,
Champion of my soul
Rises up,
To fight,
To endure;
To persevere;
For victory to claim.
Out of the fire
New life grows
Giving rise to hope.


Details | Free verse | |

Primordial Waves


From within the flux its breath sweeps the shoreline,
Sometimes spewing forth flotsam and jetsam
Lolling us to sleep with its soothing savoury sighs.
Its siren calls hypnotising the unwary and confidant.
Drawing us to depths of hidden fury and peace. 
Scouring the lands with an insatiable appetite,
Forever hungry, it’s stomach a pitiless pit of plenty.
Its minions devouring the fallen. Lost in opaque screams.

The rolling wave ripples through to the very soul, 
Its innocuous plate sparkles in white foamy trepidation.
Beckoning us, taunting us, through its congenital self. 
Primordial waves bath our lives as we search the shore.
For peace, love and isolation, now flung and strewn.
Where hope of salvage dwell in our beachcombing souls.  
We wish to return from where once we came, we lost embryos.
Our mislaid mother calls, still we newcomers neglect her voice. 



5th Aug 2013..........S.de Burca


Details | Free verse | |

Metamorphosis

Alone in a glade under the burning stars
Dew moist on the soles of my blistered feet
My belly distended, pressed to the ground
       sinking in, mutating within
The needles of pain consume my vision,
My breath reduced to a whimpering supplication

My skin cracks open, drying & withered & old
Peeling it away from the new
Armor
Still soft & wet & waking

This newness hardens my jaw,
pulls my tears to ash
This new body...
...now so proud and firm and female
       mating with the decay of leaves & lifeblood of the soil

My horns of earthly blessings split the crown of my brow
Growing...slowly, agonizing, surreal
Strong

And so I shed the paltry skin of Eve
And rise from the womb of the Earth Mother
as a new Goddess
a new Flame
a new Stone
a new Way
a new Song
a new Day

       a new Earth


Details | Blank verse | |

Senses Of Thy Spirit

You have opened your eyes,
Now open your mind.
See your own significance,
See considerately.

You have opened your ears,
Now open your heart.
Listen to thy heartbeat,
Listen compassionately.

You have opened your mouth,
Now open the doors to your soul.
Speak thy spiritual reality,
Speak truthfully.


Details | Prose | |

Doubting the Stars

Everyone sees something different when they look up into the stars. Somewhere there’s a young boy dreaming of becoming the first astronaut to meet new life, on a distant planet. Far away, or maybe just down the street there is an old woman hoping that once her bones meet Earth’s hallowed chamber; her soul will soar into the heavens and her life will become a part of the light that breaks the void between life and death. Her journey, finally becoming as eternal as she always hoped it could be. Some just look up and feel infinitesimal, a speck of dust in a vast and obscure reality. Others simply feel a sense of calm as their distant glow sends tides of vague understanding into their pondering souls, unable to fully grasp the endearing mystery of their presence. I’ve always felt the latter, when I gazed up into the night sky I always knew somewhere deep inside that I wasn’t alone. That something was looking down; not aliens, not a burning celestial knot of souls, but something beyond human understanding..something that tonight seems unfathomable and out of reach. When I was young, I had a form of recklessly unbreakable faith that at the time I thought could not be torn by anything. I had a soul, and a pure heart that would break for anyone, as long as someone was there to mend it, at day’s end. I was sure that there would always be someone. Sure that this world was built by grace and endured by love. But tonight, no hope radiates down, I feel nothing, no presence, no understanding, vague or otherwise. Tonight I am simply biology’s cause and effect. The swelling of impure neurons tossed around in the fatty tissue of a confused brain casts doubt of any sort of happy ending. I am sure that someday gravity will take its toll and do its work. Maybe we will get it right next time. 
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


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 | Free verse | |

Time

The world consumes everything
What I love, what I hate
What I am, will be, and have been
This paper, and these thoughts
It will all eventually sink into the
ever present swallow of death
The loudest of all Earthly echo
is legacy; What a man leaves behind
How he is remembered
The color that was seen
in his embroidered vision
The forgiveness of his touch
and the sincerity of his pulse
This is the soul of a man
The only impervious song
that can be strummed by flesh
unhindered by the blows of time

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Quantum Traveler

I rode a cloud to kiss a star
and it embraced me with its love light.
The universal eye…smiled.

Echoing energy sang of brotherhood;
angels don’t have any restricted clubs.
One is all and all is one.

The atomic transporter
never charges for a ride.
Currency is a mortal failing.

Dancing across invisible strings; 
I hear the harmony of celestial song, 
as it, eternally resounds.

Quantum leaping through timeless black holes;
I met myself and sang a reunion duet.

Elemental celebrations, lend a soul wisdom;
timeless secrets reveal themselves,
to souls on quantum journeys.

Inside, eternity’s map,
read only by belief; 
shows the quantum interstates, leading home.


Details | Rhyme | |

Where Frozen Embers Still Burn

We lose hope,
drowning in dope,
not knowing the strength
deep within our breath.

We carry energy of a thousand suns,
in every, hurt, humiliation, and suspicions
of following the wrong "path",
that could lead to "death."

We wait for time to heal our hearts,
so as to forget all life's hurts,
but the pain becomes too much to handle;
problems become too complex to handle.

The skies we stare for a sign;
an answer to perfectly align
with our desires, only for silence
to return to haunt our conscience.

It is only our attitude that we need to change,
so as to get divine power as our wage!


Details | Verse | |

Excerpt from 'On White Rock'

“Into busy cities with the flow of cars
 Is where we come back to – simply no choice! –
 And we’re coming down from the heights we reached,
 Leaving our hearts in the mountains.”
    ~ Vladimir Vysotsky, “Goodbye Mountains”

...

How ephemeral is life
How permanent
For ages before this body’s come
And further ages after it’s gone
The mountain’s contemplating
The life it’s carried
Throughout its existence
And will sustain
Until it’s gone
The creatures
Who make it
Home
I can stand
Huddling no more
I won’t do it anymore
In the next obscene tempest I’ll revel
Shove aside the quaking glass
Stagger wild-eyed into the thrashing sheets of the rejoicing maelstrom
Let it burst over me under me through me in pitch black rage
Let it spear me deeper and deeper till the tempest’s heart is one with mine
Let it scoop me twirling heels over head and back upright
My mildly wavy hair drawn straight out inundated
Pummeled matted flipped plastered twisted flattened
Again
Again
And again

...
   ~ Thanks Always Returns


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 | |

Faith Healer

The odor is intolerable
Like a foul beast clinging to the end 
I can barely subdue its subterfuge 
But here I am, 
I’m standing here of sound and mind
Waiting for the time that answers my own questions

Can it race with the fires of Orc?
Doubtful, but it can jog steadily can’t it?
The weather is awful, filled with sounds
Penetrating a document not written
It pains me to fight through the night
Not because it’s dark, but because I am just a shadow.

Lester drives but
Motional lasts forever
Still driving
Still crying
And slowly dying as time waves on
Like oceans that can’t be seen.

Nobody cares and everyone listens
Ironic, like a bible that holds lies and deception
Can its will be pierced?
Can freedom stay free?
Is it worth it to stay hooked when everyone around
Seeks liberty?


Details | I do not know? | |

Road Trip

...Just because the road got a little bumpy, 
That didn't mean I was going to pull over, 
                 get out, 
and sit on the side of the road and give up. 
                                            I kept going. 
And at the end of the road, there was a dead end sign... 
                 but did that stop me? 
                           No. 
I parked the car, 
     got out, 
and continued on foot. 
Eventually I came to the brink of a huge mountain 
and looked up 
and thought it was impossible to climb. 
           But did that stop me? 
                       No. 
I tried anyway and started climbing. 
Once I got to the top, 
I turned around and looked over the mountain 
and I could see the smooth road 
     that turned into bumpy gravel 
          that came to a dead end 
               that came to the bottom of this mountain... 
everything that has tried to stop me. 
And suddenly, I realized 
that I now stood higher... 
       above it all... 
and now look how little it looks...


Details | Free verse | |

District 13 Revolution

Fireworks slide down the back of my tongue

Some went north to imitate stars, 

knowing all to well they wouldn’t even make it to the stratosphere

A fire can’t breathe with no air

Ask that man in the alley why he has to shoot black skies into his veins to see them.

You probably have more in common than you might think.

Satellite transmissions making waves like the oceans they cover

Healthy food is expensive, while poison is damn near free!

There is a storm coming

Grab your blankets and I will tell you how it ends with a new beginning.


Details | Free verse | |

Love

Love is not an obligation. 
Love is adaptation.

The fuel of prevalence,
The foundation of courage.

The basis on which life,
finds true meaning.

Love is not comfortable,
It is the fine line between,
agony and serenity.

Love is suffering cruelty,
without the fading of compassion.

Love is longing through the night,
Love is the single tear that finds its way 
out of the eye of a hardened soul.

The breaking of a mischievous spirit,
That finds itself humbled,
at the face of reality.

Rain falling on barren land,
The feeling of naked feet amid,
the tide and snow white sand.

Unconditional,
Unyielding…

Eternal. 
-James Kelley 2010©


Details | Prose | |

Elements of Essence, Collab by James Kelley and Katherine Wyatt

I am walking in your footprints again. My bare feet are so small when contained within the imprint of your own We have walked this soft grassy road, side by side. Now I walk only with your essence. I feel the brush of your skin and callouses of your hands on my body. Such soft reveries. Its inevitable conclusion is bleeding into the clay and tall grasses beneath our ghostly steps.
 
I am Earth and you are Sky, and the wind carries the daily exchange of our nature on soft songs. I no longer chase the zephyrs that swirl upon the low grounds. They carry leaves and debris that settles back onto the clay beneath us. We both see one another clearly, but somehow do not have clear vision when it comes to our own storms.
 
I am rain falling sideways, pushed by your reaching gusts. Locusts swarm in the eyes of my pondering caress; we are a plague of fathoms at the foot of a swallowed sea. You are the calmness of Earth’s depths, my rage punishing your shores. You are the beauty of my destruction, the ebb and flow of my tormented purity. I only wish that I could feel your weight upon me again, holding me at rest.
 
But the scales of time’s sandy tick have tilted, leaving me crazed and undiluted. I watch your limbs sway, your leaves break free and wander, searching for the source of my prayers, and I blink. The night swells in my breast and I feel your fault lines shake in the bones of what is left.
 
This feral land is the bedchamber of our lovemaking. The faces in the trees are watching us. We give them life as they dream us into being. The soft waters of the bayous are a song hanging in thick bayou air. We are like water. I close my eyes and you are within me.
 
Our bodies are trapped in the temporal. Our minds caught in patterns we do battle with perceived realities. Yet your spirit is etched beneath my eyelids. You are never far. We are writing poetry across oceans of time. Lovers in every form. Weaving stories of creation and destruction upon each individuation. Flesh as a vessel, is only bound by time. My heart is heavy with shadows. Yet together, we are Fire and Light.   
 
We are the eternal design of nature’s fury: the break and the fall, the flow and the pull, the thrust and the splash of kindling spirit. We are all, and we are one, and I feel your feet within mine as we walk down, further upon the grassy road of our story. Your hand is soft, mine broken and bleeding. But you will heal me, you always do. For you are the wind that molds me, the crash breaks me, the flame that purifies our bond, and the water sending ripples on the shore of every world in which we choose to play our songs.
 
 
(c) James Kelley and Katherine Wyatt 2014


Details | Free verse | |

Goosebumps

I stayed there, for too long
in the cruel arms of a sunset
that had forgotten I was there.
Its wink slowly cast an itchy
blanket over the hope I had found
in blue skies; My skin reached upward,
blistered by the groan of mortality’s tick.
There is little time to waste.
The turn, once again left me in the dark,
grappling with solitude among the masses. 
And so I waited for starlight’s touch to 
calm the sandstorm in my bones.
Waited for the battle between light
and dark, so I could paint my eyes
with the blood of a new vision
for tomorrow and be ready to perceive 
everything that I had once, let slip away.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Rhyme | |

I'm Back

The mind's a churning landfill, 
And heart's living roadkill.
I know you'll discard much more than you keep.
But you know that I Dream, much more than I sleep.


Details | Free verse | |

Seeds

Your words are the sweetest kiss,

wind pouring against flowers, 

sending their seeds down

unto our valley;

Breeding beauty with grace.

Our tears,

balmy and serene;

filtered by your 

strength,

water the script,

channel their purpose.

No matter what happens,

our embrace is eternal,

     our union will bloom.

-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

Walk the Dream, Fan the flame

This facade that we build
around our bones;
this walking dream

Shouldn’t be any different,
than what we keep in the night,
where the stars burn as freely 
as our hearts.

I say we stoke the fire,
throw it all in.

Watch the sand turn to glass,
peel the skin back
                    swallow the marrow of promise.

Let the light reflect.

-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Free verse | |

The Forge

Heat surrounds me as I walk between the Anvil and the Hammer. 
I am smelted, molten iron waiting to be formed and reformed,
quenched under cold water, hardened again and again until 
firm and strong…
…just a little flexible, ensuring me to become unbreakable.

I turn around, looking, watching, searching
	for the Armorer, the Forge-master, the Liberator
The Commander of these flames
(building to higher intensity—higher Stability)
I am shaped again, between the Anvil and the Hammer…
stronger, as this new molten alloy is injected in my veins.

I am liquid glowing steel shaped anew
	hammered, beaten, brought to the barrel until the edge is clean and razor sharp…
…Made flexible again…made unbreakable once more
Stronger in this 2nd life, this 2nd cycle…twice-born to learn, to evolve, to lead
			and become more than I was and more than I could be
The fire burns higher and hotter, flames tonguing my female flesh
	lapping at my neck and cheeks and lips
entering through my breath and mingling with my Earthly form.
	…And I become the Armorer, the Forge, the Commander of these fever flames
	  I am Steel, charged with cold fury, shaped to a seamless edge, power to slice
And here I take my leave and employ my Vengeance.

Blade in Body I stand to fight
Body in Blade I enter battle, 
	demanding the blood of my enemy, demanding victory
The enemy is on all sides and I am poised, ready
I am
I am my enemy
And the disease in my mind is ready to die.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Human Campfire Legacy

" Human Campfire Legacy ... "

( Gen. 2: 4 / Gen. 3: 24 / Ex. 13: 21 )
( Ex. 3: 2 / Rev. 22: 5, 6 )


All & Every Family of Man
Must Have Gathered Around Campfires
Telling Stories of Dreams & Dramas of Life
(Tho' Some of Them Have Been Liars) ...

... Gathered Around Great Campfires
At The End of Sunlit Days
Gathered Close, Around Warm Campfires
To Hear What Storytellers Had To Say ...

... of Fantasy Or Forecasts Around The Flames
Feeling Protected By It Bonfire-Blaze
Or Gazing At Each Familiar, Glowing Face
... Gathered Around A Family's Fireplace

Such Was This Ancient Entertainment
Throughout Time & Tongues of Tribes
Telling Histories, Heritage, Legends, Myths & Fables
In Oratories of Bards & Scribes ...

" I Saw Four Men Living Out On The Street
Gathered Around A Big, Smoking Fire-Barrel
Their Hands Outstretched To Its Flames
To Ward Off The World's Ice-Age-Peril ...

One Was Gesturing & Speaking To The Others
And They Began To Uproariously Laugh ...
It Was Then, That I Saw A Glimpse of
How Mankind 'Sticks To' Campfires-Past " ...

... Gathered Around A Flickering Campfire
See, There Is Nothing New Under The Sun
And When Earth's Great Star, Staircases-Down
Man, Still Gathers 'Round Fires' Heated-Fun ...

So If You Find Yourself At A Campsite
Indulging In Its Ritual Tradition
of Looking & Listening To Campfire Tales
Or Gathered 'Round A Television ...

... It's A Long-Time-Honored, Human Custom
To Gather Around Warm Campfires
From Tents To Huts - To Applianced-Homes
Or In Palaces of Great Empires ...

The Civilizations of The Family of Man
Must Have Gathered Around Campfires
Telling-Visions of Dreams & Dramas of Life
In High-Def  ... 3-D, Wire-Pyres ...

In Conflagrations & Rubbed Frictions of Man
Gathered & Chronicled Thru Sparks of Campfires
Some Became Skilled At Fairytales & Folklore
& Yes, Some Were Just Branded - Burnt Liars)
( Rom. 3: 4  /  1 Tim. 4: 1, 7 )

                                                                
 Written & Copyrighted ©:  5/20/2014
            by:  MoonBee  Canady


Details | Free verse | |

Garden of Irony

He breathes between winks in migraine pulse,
throbbing against the challenge of an overly lustrous day.
Watching halos fall through broken sun-glass hue,
he wonders how much more the wind will break.
Limbs rest in the arms of an aging garden,
rotting and yet, still beautiful.
Ivy swims beneath the man’s shadow,
curling its way up, and opening its breast
toward the promise of nirvana. 
He bends, takes a branch 
in his hands and ponders
the irony of life, and its 
retirement.
It feels fake in his hands,
so he flicks the bark 
off its back,
letting its naked remains
fly in 
another direction,
toward a rusting chariot,
where it will be 
delivered unto a bed of flame.
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Axis Mundi

This axis mundi,  rotates,    
   within and outside the veils
I remember walking with you  
 and how we manifested anything we agreed upon
leaving us both slackjawed and yet     
                            not completely surprised...
you called me “My Heart”...because yours,
you said...  could no longer feel...
So I felt for both of us   
 
I met you on the other side of the veils    
 where we were once enjoined....  that is a crisp trip      
    to release..  ... a burning ache
You were thunder and I, feral...
but we are imprisoned   
 in time.......  and this is not our time
...yet I feel you always      
within the veil....
because there
  we are two hearts sharing one soul...
 
I remember speaking with your tongue,
Hearing your whisper within an echo
Of a voice that could shatter the sky
Of any other world;
The beauty of our resonance
Created stars as the ancients
Broke apart.
And their light swam into eyes
That told our story.
Over, and over again;
They channeled the percussion
Of a singular, and yet harmonic
Carapace.
While we danced behind the veil.
 
It was lifetimes,
one incarnation after another
before I found you..
the other half of Us... entwined   
 inextricably as One...
We are  heart cells in the depth of the Creator..
 
In the corridors of time
flesh is the individuation   
that has separated us.
 
Hard to believe
     we chose this...  
   and all we have forgotten..
yet I remember always..
that I am the design  upon the fingerprint
   that is our essence
and you are the flesh and bone of Us
 
 This separateness is the ache,
I can only find solace within you
 
  and so I accept the emptiness of your absence  
  only assuaged in the knowing
that this hunger will be quenched
on the other side of the veils...    
where there is no division
 
  On this side, within time and space...we walk alone..,
 
“But with the power of epoch’s eclipse,
This flesh will rot, and the boundaries
Between us will break apart;
      The stars in our eyes will meet again.”
 
       “Our song, will be forever sung.”
 
-Katherine Wyatt and James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Monster and Marlboros in the Rain

I awake beneath the sink of sky,
the patter of raindrops collapsing 
against the breezeway of acrid dreams.
The light of the refrigerator blinks
against torrid eyes, shining impetuously
on the last can of Taurine's gestation.
I grab hold of clarity's false promises,
and crack open a ripened sip of morning,
walk outside to light its poison. 
Cold and fluid; the taste of inclement 
happiness seeks the buds of my repose. 
Tempting my lips to kiss the heart of 
fearless and youthful posture, as I 
pop the cherry of relevance with
the ever throbbing hands of mortality. 
Bones shiver beneath tepid flesh,
as the Earth soaks its tears into
its own bosom,
waiting for my blood to finally 
follow suit and go home. 
Not today; Today I ponder
with nature. Today we spin 
the yarn of metaphysical 
riddles in valid unison
because I seek,
and it begs to be found. 
For now, we have an understanding.
I am the fragile burden of this world;
stardust molded into a wicked grin,
born not to become a supernova,
but to bleed slowly and suffer
so that....
Well, I haven't figured that 
part out yet...
For now, I'll just inhale this 
existence, one sun fall and rise at a time,
and hope I can remember 
what it means to live,
when I do finally,
go home. 
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

YOUR Signature Part 1 of 2


" YOUR  Signature  ... "

( Genesis 1: 1  /  Rev. 4: 11 )


YOUR  Signature ...
Scrolls On Each Wave of The Sea
As It Starts To Signal
With The Smallest, Written-Water-Ripple
YOUR Beautifully, Bold-Signed Name ...
Is In Each Crystal, Droplet Initial ...

YOUR  Signature ...
Reflects, Embossed Upon All Skies
Floating In Bright Cloud-Notes
and Brilliantly Arc'd Written-Rainbows
And In The Sun's Flourish-Omega-Flares
... YOUR  Radiant Calligraphy - - Glows ...

And YOUR  Signature ...
Has Atop Each Imprinted 'I' Or 'J' As Symbols
... A Capital, Comet-Dashed-Star
In The Consonant-Cosmos - - Rows & Rows
and In Each 'O' In Orbits & Global-Rings
...  YOUR  Silver-Lined, Signature Shows ...

YOUR  Signature ...
Is Written In Autumn Leaves and Winds
and Cyclone Summer Seasons
and The Softest, Articulate, Evening Breeze
and Inscribed In A Snowflake's Misty-Breath
& Each Author-Rised, Airful - -  We Breathe ...

YOUR  Signature ...
Is Written With Moonbeam-Pens
... Upon A Book of Life, It Is Plume-Penned ...
& YOUR  Pencil - Draws Golden, Treasure Maps
Upon All of Earth & World of Men
As Signed Images of  YOUR  Autographs ...

YOUR  Signature ...
Sometimes As A Title of Position & Authority
... Powerfully Appears ...
And YOUR  Signature Bears YOUR Glory-Fame
of GOD, LORD, Almighty, King, Father and  Love
All As: Character & Crests of  JEHOVAH's  Name ...

YOUR  Signature ...
Is On The Edges of Eons and Eternity
... It Cannot Be Erased
... Will Never Fade -- Nor Ever Brushed Over
When It Is Written - - It Is Written ...
and Authenticated - - As Owner ...

YOUR  Signature ...
Carved The Majestic Grand Canyon Gorge
... It Cannot Be Matched Nor Forged
YOUR  Signature Covers Now & What The Future Expects
It Is:  Its Own Distinct Style and Collateral Dialect
YOUR  Signature Signs All Wealth & Royalty's Checks ...

YOUR  Signature ...
... On Covenants; Contracts - - In or Outside Our Margins
... Is Written, Stamped and Sealed ...
Waxed In Vowels, In Cursive-Cure-Ink, That Bled
Signed On Dotted Lines of Horizons & Our Hopes ...
YOUR  Signature - - Is What We've Read ...

( Part One of Two)


       Written & Copyrighted © :  5/8/2014 
                    by:  MoonBee Canady



Details | Lyric | |

Synchronistic Riddles

An undisclosed confession
Voiced by things unseen
Expressed within my purpose
And written in my dreams

So quietly I tell you
Quietly I sing
Of all the truth I witness
In the depths of everything

With synchronistic focus
Divination's gift
And in enigmatic silence
I pray the veil will lift

These dreams are so elusive
They play within the shade
And just as I might glimpse them
The visions start to change

They dance within this statement
They observe from in my mind
Their riddles go unnoticed 
As do all the clues I hide

Yet I see them in my mirror
I can catch them in these words
These dreams are from our future
And from a past that goes unheard


Details | Free verse | |

Dame Street Messiah

Weighty words wasted on the east wind 
blowing down Dame Street 
they don’t heed or even hear them 
the footsore army of suits and students
the new Abraham or Jesus or Muhammad 
cries out 
but is ignored 
shoulder pushed to the side as the bus pulls up 
cries out 
new truths 
replace the old 
faith has become comical and morally weak 
Bus pulls away and the Saviour is alone 
in the crowded city 
Screams 
as the police move in 
no laughter or mocking 
just snorts of disapproval and ‘tuts’ of annoyance
eyes back down to the pavement 
count the sore steps home 
the rosary of the church of the rat-race
must have its homage 
He could be the One 
One true Saviour – again! 
but this world would crucify him 
with apathy and loose change 


FREE this week ‘URBANIA’ contemporary poetry collection 
http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00FC4822C


Details | Free verse | |

Raised Shore

Deep breath in slowly let it out
Don’t forget the ten count
Nausea begins to rise
From some depth unrecognized

Churning into anger 
Blatantly right before my eyes
This deceit has no problem being spied
No longer can I hide

Seeping out of control
Is the mind I use to own
Tepidly tells the lie
Truly have I been so blind

Realization is so forlorn
As the reborn tail tells the map
To leave behind such an after math
Of the less fortunate triggered decisions

Oh so trapped 
Snapped, Cracked
Lacking the ability to freeze frame

What is not mine in shame
Just mine to blame
Competing for

Raised Shore


Details | Free verse | |

Symmetry

He sits in the shadow
of a light he's been 
begging for strength
to consume;
Choking on bipolar
truths of his soul's aperture,
wondering if there is a key
to unlock its requiem,
or if he'll be forever
cast. Forced between the
breaths of both worlds;
Omitted from the presence of 
any luster, or spiritless flame.
A man with eyes that seek,
and a tongue bent over 
nervous teeth, that beg
to be cleansed of sin's rot.
To be this, 
                  here:
In a world of decadent destruction.
He feels he cannot, does not deserve
the righteous clarity of purity's omniscience.
It shines, through
and stifles the purge.
His essence contracts,
pools together in a 
singularity,
and he feels the flash
as he becomes, 
for a moment,
symmetry.
Life/Death
Perfection/Destruction
Human/Corpse
Angel/Demon 
Power/Void
Darkness..
And he sleeps, for what he thought 
would be forever,
and yet wakes in the arms of life
with eyes that still seek,
and a tongue no longer
bent over hungry teeth;
but willing to speak.
 
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved


Details | Free verse | |

Too stubborn to ask for directions

It's funny..
how there can 
be so much chaos 
in the dark, 
how pouring yourself 
into the slanderous 
frequency of life's 
little distractions 
can seem therapeutic, 
but then you find yourself
there once again, 
boiling in the quiet
reflection of a
bitter melody.
The howling thrum 
of your own echo
can beat sense 
in, and right back
out of you. 
Confusion or Revelation? 
We all pick our own poison
at one time or another. 
Tonight, I drink the sour
mash of introspection;
soberly gulp the tear
of spirit from the ash
of yesterday, 
wait for the 
pang of tomorrow. 
I'll write it down,
like I always do;
one more foolish note 
of a lost soul, 
searching for
                   direction.
Writing without the purposed
map of self assurance,
or the light to read 
notes I left for myself,
just in case..
I end up,
rounding another corner,
that should look familiar...
 
                                 like I always do. 
-James Kelley 2014, All rights reserved.


Details | Rhyme | |

Falling From Faith

This image is different within my eyes,
Your masquerade is stripped of it’s disguise.

Your emaciated praise is so tortuously sung;
The black in your heart is a lie on your tongue.
Our mouths are muted by the lies you’ve sewn,
But I see the weed choking the flower shown. 

Your cardiac corruption leaves your message hallow,
But blinded sheep need a sound to fallow.
Guided by deception they eagerly trudge,
to a demon wearing the mask of a judge. 

You rejoice in every heartbroken lament,
For the law is only what you choose to invent. 
Lies are laced within your every breath,
You march us to hell then whisper us to death. 
 


Details | Prose Poetry | |

YOUR Signature Part 2 of 2

" YOUR  Signature  ... "

( Genesis 1: 1  /  Rev. 4: 11 )


(Part 2 of 2)

YOUR  Signature ...
Signs On All Existence's Account Ledgers
... Is A Literary, Moniker-Masterpiece
A Singularly, Most Stentorious-Stenography
As A Monogram-Monument That Documents
& Slants To Grammar-Mercy's Typed Guarrantee
(Yet Stands Upright In Justice & Audit-Identity)

YOUR  Signature ...
Each Letter Is Love and Luminosity ...
A Stencil & Substance-Mark of Perfect Symmetry
and Punctuality With A Written-Resource-Resonance
A Sacred-Sequence of Letters Wrote In Such Serenity
Signed In Stone and On Souls and Of Sovereignty
YOUR  Signature - - Reigns So Superlatively

YOUR  Signature ...
Signs & Emblazons The Promises & Prophecy-Fixtures
and Heavenly Holy Scriptures
and Is The Greatest Designation In All of Literature
Throughout Space & Spirits & Strenuous Storms & Seas Divesture
Yes - - We See YOUR Masterstroke-Signature ...

We See YOUR  Signature ...
( Rom. 1: 20 )

       Written & Copyrighted © :  5/8/2014 
                    by:  MoonBee Canady


Details | Free verse | |

Mellita, domi adsum

A timeless classic upon reaching your castle                                                                      to choose the good and not the bad                                                                                  breaking away from the ice of the day                                                                              in search of a ray like sunshine how is your day                                                                 like the Shakespearean play terms of endearment                                                             testing the waters of one's abode                                                                                     will ducky be swimming or ice skating                                                                              a warm Embrace or on the brink of today                                                                         in any case show yourself friendly


Details | Free verse | |

My Immaculate Concept

As the heavenly host feed the flock
there was one among them who believed
that she was unworthy

The beings in God's firmament
adorned themselves in crystalline white flame
Although there was a separation with an alter
which was for different levels of human and god consciousness
nevertheless the flock was feed

The crystalline white flame beings were of service
to disbelievers downtrodden abused and hurt
they were feed various forms of light energy
there was no separation from the heart of God and the flock

One the crystalline white flames was stronger than the other heavenly beings
She called the unworthy woman by her name
The heavenly firmament paused in silence
as the woman walked from the flock and approached Her

The crystalline white flame performed a ritual like dance
 for the women and the music of the spheres
danced the dance of creation

The crystalline white flame activated her encoded DNA 
in her new temple of Solomon
in Her hands were two white parchments 
the first sign being the sacred heart chakra
the second sign a divine mystery

Green and Yellow light
Yellow and Green light
poured from the palms of Her hands
the woman was infused with enlightenment in every cell of her body
everyone watching both the flock and God's firmament

The flock were in awe and talked amongst themselves
and wondered just who was the white being
and then She said in a foreign tongue to the unworthy women
“I give you my Immaculate Concept”




Details | Free verse | |

Surgery

Poetry is not rhyming.
It's not about form or 
using gold laden words.
Poetry is cutting yourself 
into pieces,
tiny little scraps of field notes,
and crawling back inside
the womb to find clarity;
to find out just how and
why you were put together.
You have to do it slowly,
accept the pain of each
tender slice and breathe
in a gentle rush.
Do not worry about keeping
organized, forget where you
place everything. In fact,
cast them as far away as 
possible. You’ll want
to discover every nuance
of your history as if it were
someone else’s.
This will help with perspective.
You’ll be able to see things 
as if they were in real time,
    as if you were reading them
                                           in a book that you didn’t know you were writing.
Have an open mind,
you might not really know 
your star character.
You might not even like them
at first, but you will know 
why they are in the place
they are in and you’ll have 
something to say about it.
-James Kelley 2013, All rights reserved.


Details | Concrete | |

Eucharist - in its spiritual realm

Along with Jesus' discourse as the Bread of Life,
bears a powerful meaning of his divinity.
It's a metaphor with spiritual truth,
that identifies himself as food for our souls.

As a sign of his broken body and his shed blood;
the inner call reflects to abide in him.
We partake of the meal, a sacred meal,
to make us one with him, abiding in the Lord Jesus Christ.

What an experience of joy to receive him!
with a great deal of gratitude and reflection.
It's a spiritual fulfillment, a source of strength
that enables one to sustain his life amid struggles.

The Eucharist we celebrate each day
draws us to believe that there's hope.
As a spiritual food that makes us grow,
we're hopeful to embrace life and start anew.


Details | Rhyme | |

Celestial Light

Blinding light of whitest white; burns upon the darkest night. Celestial waves in sunlight beams; across Mother Moons, radiant scenes. Against a back drop of darkest night; you fill me up with fiery life. No song’s unsung; no job’s undone; two become one, ‘neath moon and sun. Like heat on metal, winged waves in flight; celestial light, is eternal delight.


Details | Rhyme | |

Beginnings

I rode a star to catch a cloud, which told me, how the sky was made. The magic wand that birthed it, sang it into being; each note, danced it into place. From one lone star, there arose Gaia’s precious face; her fertile womb, delivered me, into life’s embrace. Miraculous are the heavens; the siblings of her kind; how they swirl and twirl; a square dance, in the never ending sky. When I gaze upon them; telescoping eye does find, that these celestial wonders, enjoy watching my own kind. The faces looking back at me; I feel within my chest; are no less special than I am; we’re all Gods personal best. Now you may think that stars, are much different than we folk, but upon you is the greatest, of all the cosmic jokes. All of life is energy; the planets are no less. Like us, they were all thought into being; just made manifest. The breath of God, is in us all; plant, animal and rock. There is no such thing as time; no ticking, cosmic clock. Perception’s an adventure; whatever you perceive; be sure your mind stays open and miracles, you will see. Just leap upon a star and ride; it can take you anywhere. Infinity is wondrous; you’ll forget all your cares. Come taste of the ambrosia and satisfy your nose, with scents of sapphire and ruby; your senses will be transposed!