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HIS JOURNEY by ERIC ZWELI, NYANDENI
The Whips Of History - 4 by Bordner, Justin
The Whips Of History - 3 by Bordner, Justin
The Whips Of History - 2 by Bordner, Justin
The Whips Of History - 1 by Bordner, Justin
Aspie by Quigley, Tom
All the World a Stage by Orman, Christopher
GOODBYE MY BROTHER by ERIC ZWELI, NYANDENI
Enough Is Enough by Touchton, Shaila

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The Best Crown Of Sonnets Poems

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A Crown of Thorns

1
Insanity has its own wellspring and demise.
There is no better place to hide than between coils
of convoluted grey-white matter which can't recoil.
Mind has no leering lips to scorn or show surprise 
as ungoverned, the ancient demon-dancers rise.
The traitorous bits, which cut with Brutus’ red fang,
have no regard for the womb from which they sprang.
They seek dominion; they care not for your cries.
Crazed, their freedom paid for on the rack, how they sang
of anything, of windigos’, and warriors winged 
of fresh flesh beneath a gibbous moon's harangue, 
where those in sanity beneath their blankets cringed.
Night terrors sweat the sheets of the weak, as fear sprang,
a ripened, musky-scent arose from those unhinged.
2
A ripened, musky-scent arose from those unhinged
cloaked in mirrored, morose, magic; the mind a foil,
the heart, the soul, the sunny days, caste down, embroiled; 
destined to languish convulsed in the depth of coil.
Brightness, so dimmed, is lost within a rancid soil,
left to meet horned demons all but unarmed, alone, 
no company except the mirrored self-entombed,
no bliss state, no ripening sweetness to uncoil
a compost heap of bitter memories, atone ...
atone, little mother, well-used wife, wander now,
seeking ever seeking, yet finding no one home,
insanity wakened, waits, patiently endows ... 
empty days and nights, the infrequent sound of om,
cuddling the traitorous bits, shooing brighter dreams roused.
3
Cuddling the traitorous bits, shooing brighter dreams roused,
the teeth of dogged night rise-up, they breed turmoil.
Deep within the sleeping mind of men, sorrows roil.
Abandonment, disloyalty, hatred espoused,
all shriek to the traitor, the night arouses. 
Niggardly night, loath to lose ground within the dome
of blanched white, gray matter, within this skull of bone,
delights in the sorrowful detail night houses.
Insanity licks raw the salted wound entombed, owned.
"What could we be?" the ego cries to he or she.
"What would we be?" the windigo screams but, “alone.”
On, on, they chatter in the carapace, they breed, 
spreading dark matter, for they've no chaperone,
no friend to stay the brutal cousins, so mislead. 

4
No friend to stay the brutal cousins so mislead,
so in darkness, fear and hatred spread on fertile soil.
Yet, self-hatred shields its sharpened claws, as day uncoils
filling the breach with bright creations, dark concedes, 
and dims the room while manic laughter recedes.
A sunrise bows through prism-glass and colors swell
a lighter laughter comes, newborn to dwell.
Hands that once drew only blood, now tune bent reeds                        
of green, blades of springtime grass within the dell;
where larks sing and long lost lovers dare to reunite, 
no mention made of darkness or the depth of hell,
for sanity has cast a lighter stage this night.                       
Daybreak suspends the demon-dance upon the fell,
now, fairies prance in pastures high, and verse delights.
5 
Now, fairies prance in meadows high, and verse delights
her fancy takes a softer turn at his behest,
with buttercups, in a Fairy Ring, they coalesce,
and shine the golden glow beneath a chin of white.
With the talent of a troubadour, love does strum
upon desire's strings the raging beast is culled
as coy love songs and  sweet lullabies emerge from
the hidden depths of mind where sanity is mulled.
With the talent of a troubadour love does strum
upon strings of desire the fearful beasts are culled 
as coy love songs and sweet lullabies emerge from
the stygian depth where her frail sanity is mulled.
How long will harmony dance to love's blissful hum
Will dark's whine wake, disturb, insanity so lulled? 
6 
Will dark's whine wake, disturb, insanity so lulled? 
A scent of jasmine fills the air with swarming gnats.
Her covered ears belay the sound of feral cats
yet, huddled in his sheltering arms, her pain is dulled.
Dulled, but not waylaid, raging, she becomes unglued
She starts to rock, to whimper, and then, cry out- loud
begging for the dev'lish tide to leave, as he vowed,
renting strands of flaxen hair from her small skull.
Torn, he watches as she fades within a shroud,
a witless waif, bedeviled by the harvest moon.
He had to leave; he could not stay beneath this cloud
ever waiting for this, her omnipresent doom.
His love had its limits and yet, he was not proud,
Oh, he could not stay and watch her be consumed.

7

Oh no, he could not stay and watch her be consumed,
to have his pleasant memories of ardor's bloom
be marred by images of her so poorly groomed. 
No, never would he stay to see her be consumed.
One morn he left, his sum was not what she'd presumed. 
And, she sat in the rocker by the door unfazed,
her bowed lips o'er cast and her eyes o'er glazed, 
alive, but not, her nascent sanity entombed.
Death had come, death of the mind, his metal now assayed
he ran from old memories, as each thought enticed.
Their first tryst 'neath jasmine vines vanished in a haze.
Was love's reward, a sweet repast, mania's disguise?
Would true love have held the course where sanity betrayed,
insanity has its own wellspring, and demise.

First Published Five Poetry Magazine 2014




Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2015

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Life's Fading Light-Part 1-Heroic Crown of Sonnets

Youth

When orchids bloom in beauty life's aglow
to hold emotions locked in deep repose
in young desire and love warm thoughts will show.
Affection holds its ardor as it grows
to burn inside young hearts in evening tide.
In darkest night the heat will burn and rise
till naked, love's sweet flower blooms inside
and once again my love the past implies.
I'm not the dreaming soul you think you've known,
this willing need that cannot be denied,
is naught if not in love my feeling's grown,
as sad, the winds of change cast hearts aside.
     
     Is not the pain of youth our last great stand
          as time, with heavy brow, is nature planned?


Time

As time, with heavy brow, is nature planned,
to start the quest the instant life began.
It ticks each moment past with second hand
through infant life, to youth, and then to man.
The years go by as sequenced seasons pass
and miss each gentle touch of mothers breast.
As hair of grey like waves of grain amass,
we enter life's most cruel and crucial test.
How quick the mind in once unfettered thought
is now but clouds of muddled pother dust,
and as the time moves deep in minds hard fought,
the turning wheels soon slow to so much rust.

     No thought for life and love can further grow.
          Too soon the beating heart begins to slow.

Passion

Too soon the beating heart begins to slow
as passion spent prepares to take its toll,
and shooting stars burn down to subtle glow,
the mind's illusions dream of heart and soul.
Yet warmth and need can still ignite the flame
if sparks in coals of burning love remain.
Though slow the beats count down each ardent frame
our need for touch and fervor we retain.
For what is good without loves sweet caress
on lonely night or stormy sullen day,
to tightly hold each moment we possess
and guard the heart from anger and dismay.

     The light of heaven's long goodbye's unplanned
          when passion's ember burns the gentle hand.

Love

When passion's ember burns the gentle hand,
so, too, pure hearts can suffer in loves pain.
but lessons taught, no matter how well planned
can lead us down this broken path again.
Emotions find the cracks in crystal yen
then ebb and flow in watered essence's glow,
and grow the seeds of doubt to wonder when
through chinks in life's burst dam our love will flow.
But fill each crack with heart's warm trust and truth
and once again love's flower starts to bloom
like soft bright petals only found in youth,
we feel the sun burn past our time of gloom.

     Through life the warmth of pain awaits each day
          with flames of love that flicker old and grey.

Age

With flames of love that flicker old and grey
the hope of life's sweet nectar I once gave.
With you in pleasured touch we both would lay
and from my lonely heart my life you'd save.
As time moves on, though wisps of shadows fade,
like honey to the bees love yet tastes sweet
but tender touches lost in dark of shade
remain recalled reflections of conceit.
Let not the scourge of time erase the stain
of need for heated pleasure so ingrained
and loves mosaic tender heart's refrain
then end to end our love we'll share unchained.
     
     As brown the leaves float free from trees unmasked.
          but moments gone, as youth filled questions asked.

Sorrow

But moments gone, as youth filled questions asked,
no more of young loves wonder we request,
for in our soul the answers are unmasked
when stars align to find the lover's quest.
In length of day, like shadows, darkness grows
engulfing heaven's promise lost in fear,
and clasp strong hands of those we hold so close
from moistened cheeks we wipe a lonely tear.
No soft and tender touch upon the brow
when, tick, the clock calls out the lonesome hour,
can change the path of fate we follow now,
when life's sweet taste turns bitter, tart and sour.

     As we in fervid dusk filled evening lay
          the feelings lost to seasons never stay.

Feelings

The feelings lost to seasons never stay
and life  grows cold as little sand remains.
But, o'er the heart the mind has little sway
when strong emotions bleed through burning veins.
Does anger, love or hate in time still lie,
awaiting passion's burning deep inside,
or ease in mellowed thoughts as days go by
to tarry in the place where senses hide?
The smile upon my face may turn in joy
though deep inside my heart my feelings burn
as eddies swirling lost in loves sad ploy
awaiting their frenetic fierce return.

     Like comet's tail our hearts burn bright and fast
          for in the end it's just one soul that's passed.


04/19/16


Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2016

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Ghosts of the Sun Dance-Part 1

Ghosts of the Sun Dance

1. The Path

A quest dating back through our history
Surpassing the flesh, a spiritual path
Human endurance, road to mystery
Dark trail winding through the gardens of wrath

It echoes through me, this deep ambition
Half century of miles, lifetime compressed 
Much more than a race, a sacred mission
With light of hardship I hope to be blessed

To outsiders, an act of madness pure
What motivations could compel this feat?
Past limits of human strength to endure
Pushing the body well beyond defeat

Mind and sinews outlasting the firestorm
Transcendence, to shed our skin and transform

2. Sun Dance

Transcendence, to shed our skin and transform
Once, Plains Indians embraced the Sun Dance
Sacred solstice ritual to perform
Life’s rebirth to the sound of drums and chants

Young braves fasting in their preparation
A stout pole connects the lodge to the sun
Days of reveling unite the nation
Dancers’ exhaustion, they seek to outrun

Animal spirits drawn in by the rhythm 
Forked tree with bison’s skull, hooks in their chest
Buffalo, bringer of potent vision 
Delirious dancers complete their quest

The Spirit Quest resounds through history
Beyond mundane, to sacred mystery

3.To Endure and Transcend 

Beyond mundane, to sacred mystery
Japan's “Marathon Monks” of Mount Hiei
The key to their spirit quest victory
To walk a Marathon one hundred straight days

Famed spiritual leader Sri Chinmoy
Believed hearts and spirits could be mended
Through self-transcendence, and he did enjoy
Countless long quests before his time ended

Chinmoy’s best, a fifty day epic quest
A journey thirty-one hundred miles long
Few are those who have ever passed this test
His famous Self-Transcendence Marathon

Darkest night, the gateway to a new morn,
Through painful trials, seeker’s soul reborn

4. The Spirit Is Willing

Through painful trials, seeker’s soul reborn
Deepest pain kindling the soul’s ignition 
Follow the path supplicants’ feet have worn
Transformation’s crux, soul transition

Our defenses and walls cannot let in
Sacred blessings of the gods and spirits
Impenetrable, much to your chagrin
They cannot touch your heart if you fear it

Mortification, a tribulation
Humble display of the supplicant’s worth
A spiritual emancipation,
Pain always accompanies any birth

These transitions in few modern nations
Our world, rare rites of initiation

5. The Fall

Our world, rare rites of initiation
Deconstructed, traditions have been burned
Soulless life breeds infantilization
Perpetuating the puer eterne

To make our lives easier is progress, 
Yet soft life an inadequate mantle
We can also suffer when life lacks stress
True transformation is never gentle

Safety, the goal of civilization
Eliminate risk, its increasing role
Safety’s bitter fruit is stagnation
Comfort cannot forge a resilient soul

Building true human vitality starts
With substance to satisfy questing hearts

6. Aimlessness

With substance to satisfy questing hearts
We dream to build greatness from the humble
Miseducation, meaninglessness start
Intrepid young souls questing for trouble

Drawn to drugs and gangs, tobacco and booze
No deep satisfaction do they contain
Oft mistaken for paying adult dues
But lead instead to spiritual chains

Youthful misadventures, trouble and blues
Sterile environment will generate
Tribal belonging they mark with tattoos
Clumsy efforts to self-initiate

Conquered world without initiations
Life’s road of genuine tribulations

7. Warrior’s Quest

Life’s road of genuine tribulations
Awaits our youth, whether they are prepared
Or not, we note with building frustrations
Future leaders, we see grow up impaired

The warrior within’s heartfelt yearning
A righteous cause in which to do battle
Meanwhile, the subway turnstiles are turning
Young champions doing time as cattle

Quests can be found for the searching young soul
Alas, the focus of education
Not on the development of the whole
But fashioning subjects of this nation

The challenge of living with one’s whole heart
Yielding to those who have mastered the art

5/19/16
Copyright by Author
For contest: Heroic Crown of Sonnets
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Syllables confirmed by howmanysyllables.com


Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

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Life's Fading Light-Part 2-Heroic Crown of Sonnets

Alone

For in the end it's just one soul that's passed.
Alone I'll lie in sod of greenest grass
to answer for the sins that I've amassed
at gates of gold I'll see if I may pass.
In to this world I entered all alone
in cold and dark and dank so old I grow,
on thoughts of younger days I bitch and moan
with little hope of changing what I know.
But, now as time reflects upon my skin,
the lines of life grow deep upon my face.
I feel the fear of darkness closing in
and of my soul it leaves but little trace.

     So lay my corpse upon this bier stone cold.
          The end of life so often is foretold.

Faith

The end of life so often is foretold
from storms of pained emotions we retreat.
When colors fade to black as we grow old
we search for gold from rainbows we can cheat.
Through lonely thoughts of our demise we trod,
yet try, we still, to save our lives from dust
With souls we've fore to sold we offer God
if but in his creation he would trust.
In promise lost we bide our time, we cope,
for what remains beyond our short lived lives.
The heaven of our father's faith's our hope,
inside of us is where this hope yet thrives.

     Is our eternal faith enough to know,
          when cold the winds of fate speak soft and low?

Moments

When cold the winds of fate speak soft and low
I hear its voice sing smooth in morning dew
and all of life on wings aloft will go
and fly on breeze of gentle pastel hue.
So sweet the taste of life will linger on
with rainbow flavors left upon the tongue,
like cream filled candy, but too soon it's gone
dissolved like so much piles of beetles' dung,
I know that life is precious as fine gems
reflecting each new moment that we live
with flowers' petals sweet upon their stems
our time in life is all we have to give.

     As years in life pass slow like buds in cold
          in warmth and light the blooms of time unfold.

Lies

In warmth and light the blooms of time unfold
to search through lost emotions is our goal.
In hope that we shall keep from growing old
we capture fading thoughts to keep us whole,
but when the final sunset has gone dark
the memories we cherished are all lost
and only ghostly photos leave the mark
of lives that pass like melting winter frost.
I can not bear the thought of you alone
when life has passed for me and I am gone.
What good of all the sweetness you have known
if lonely night awakes to lonely dawn.

     Forever lies I've promised, you will see,
          as petals fall, my life will cease to be.

Doubts

As petals fall my life will cease to be,
yet time goes on without a moment lost
and still the winds of fate persist and blow
without remark or care or pennies cost.
What worth am I but in your care and love
or have I lived my life in selfish need.
I've tried so hard, for you, to rise above
but in your eyes do you just see my greed.
For am I who you wanted me to be,
the perfect man to share my life with you,
or did you wish for me to just be me
and give you love and promise to be true?

     When end is near I know in you I'll dwell
          in whispered songs of love my heart will quell.

Life

In whispered songs of love my heart will quell
so soft it beats when broken scars are healed
yet pain of loss for you I can't dispel
when left to dream of all that you've revealed.
The secret  words of love that you have told
in moments sweet and pleasured touch exposed
to me are bits of life for me to hold
when fantasies of you have been reposed.
Now laid to rest inside my very soul,
I've loved you strong and deep for oh so long
for in my life you've played a leading roll.
Without you dear this life would be but wrong.

     Though many words as yet I wish to tell
          with tender tears to you, I say farewell.

Death

With tender tears to you, I say farewell,
my sweet, my life, my love, my need, my soul.
From you the one for whom my heart once fell,
this world of pain will now exact its toll
Too soon my corpse in death will lay stone cold
and tears from you will be my sole repose.
The troubadour whose words sing songs so bold,
alas, is left struck mute in death's last throes.
Will loves last flower fade without perfume,
to die unsmelled with human heart's adieu
its fragrant scent to linger in my tomb
or heaven sent, will stay and comfort you?

     At end of life my love I hope you'll know,
          when orchids bloom in beauty life's aglow.

Life's Fading Light

When orchids bloom in beauty life's aglow,
as time, with heavy brow, is nature planned,
too soon the beating heart begins to slow
when passion's ember burns the gentle hand.
With flames of love that flicker old and grey,
but moments gone, as youth filled questions asked,
the feelings lost to seasons never stay
for in the end it's just one soul that's passed.
The end of life so often is foretold
when cold the winds of fate speak soft to me.
In warmth and light the blooms of time unfold,
as petals fall, my life will cease to be.

     In whispered songs of love my heart will quell,
          with tender tears, to you, I say     ...farewell.


04/19/16



Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2016

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SYLVIA

                         
                           It is a terrible thing
                           To be so open: it is as if my heart
                           Put on a face and walked into the world.


                                          Sylvia Plath, Three Women, 1962



_________________________________


Sylvia, ever lucent, ever opaque,

an incongruity, a clever imbalance               
that spins collections her hounds facilitate.  
Failures and fractures she bravely lanced
with noncompliance. Reader, rebuff collars
labeled as forewords, smug introductions, 
for Plath’s voice is tenfold more a scholar 
than those receiving undue benedictions.    
Lofty beggars seek to bookend her words
and that empty space she instinctively refills
with her universe, a mayhem that girds,
unapologetic. Mirror images spill
over margins, searching for identity,
negating preamble, snubbing apathy.   

Negating preamble, snubbing apathy
with language that flickers, catches, combusts,
her volumes of wicks, her lit soliloquies,   
glint behind the stained-glass of trust.
There are those who are not really here,
they wander fault lines then crisscross chasms,
lost pilgrims who easily commandeer
unwary emotions. Some hearts just spasm,                         
pulled by their own nature, their delicacy,
for poetry is a weakness; poets die
between verses. Odes can become elegies.
The thin-skinned hear a snared rabbit cry,
and pray for the moonflower, always closing,
while cursing that page, unmoved and dozing.

While cursing that page, unmoved and dozing,
she corners rigid guides, keeps fingers poised,
synchronicity goes, the flow of typing
disappears, mislaid, that perfect noise
of a carriage return, a sound exclamation.
Joy is inspiration making its way home,
her Olivetti forages like a raven,
gifting found nouns, verbs that glare like chrome,
but love still flits, turns from hoarse requests,
and she longs for more than any man can give
for what snags worn ribbons will not rest,
it emits a strong beat, throbs as it loves.
Bless the bitter of life, all wisdom owing,
curse the open heart, its shadows showing.
  

Curse the open heart, its shadows showing,
for worldly delights take full advantage
of the wounded, their brokenness growing.
Everyday beauty wrings arteries, dredges
chambers with barbs, a prompt disobedient.
Fact, there’s no folder large enough to hold 
elation’s girth, no ink conveniently
on hand to black out depression. So, scold
the yew, its roots and branches reaching,
then poke at petals for being complacent, 
when all the while a candle is preaching
of give and take, surrender, luminance,
So, carefully archive apprehension,
revealing blue veins to tender lesions.

Revealing blue veins to tender lesions
requires much more than a room of one's own,
hours do dissolve, days lack cohesion 
when milk sours and tantrums are thrown.
Solitude is in short supply, loneliness,
however, is overstocked; her mind tugs      
at busy hands for attention, such darkness
contrasts to jammy smiles and sleepy hugs.
Elusive titles whimper each morning,
and short stanzas steep, so desperately,
all the while a manuscript is scorning
her swipes at dry crumbs, cold pots of tea.
A life sheds its months, gallows take delight
as sundials atrophy in the arms of night. 

As sundials atrophy in the arms of night. 
the moon blanches tidepools, suckles sand,
even the face of the clock is pulled too tight
and the new calendar can not understand
that writing is sex, is fresh bread, is air,
that time is a brute, quick fisted, rough,
that weeks come and go without a care
that a marriage vow is never enough
to mend adoration, repossess bliss.  
Words make better lovers, rarely stray,
upon her lips, the impression of a kiss
feels as cold as sheets then melts away.
Paper sops afterbirth, accepts her all:
fossil and seed, shackles and free falls.


Fossil and seed, shackles and free falls,
unlocking visions, defying any cage, 
art resists validity, upsets stone walls  
to scale the scarlet heights of a rampage,
to breach the barricades to euphoria.
She excavates id, bares teeth at ego, 
plays the parts of illusion and phobia
then infuses rhyme with soft indigo. 
Colossus begins to shrivel as Ariel
unmans him, riding hard upon metaphors,
and will remain strong, constant, ethereal. 
but curtailed are epics that still implore  
like the cusp of dream long after you wake

Sylvia, ever lucent, ever opaque.


 

 
* For Craig Cornish



Copyright © Cyndi MacMillan | Year Posted 2013

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The Father Of Light

Silken slivers....

Aside the rolling sea

Falling from the knowing stars

Beyond these swaying trees ~

Shadows playing, now

Beneath their dancing leaves

Twirling toward the waiting ground

Amid this summer's breeze ~

Moonbeams....

Splashing upon their journeys canvas

Colliding, with the darkened skies

Celestial colours of heavenly wonders

These painting's, before my joyful eyes ~

Turning toward such whispers, now 

Which penetrate the darkened night

Echoes of Angelic splendours

Gliding, atop the timeless tide....

Twinkle twinkle, you silken stars 

Now I know, just who, you are!

Walking toward the waiting shoreline ~

From beneath these swaying trees

Endless lights of brightened wisdom

Amid this summers breeze

Truth, beyound the promised horizon 

Within this place I've seen ~

And heard Angelic voices

Whisper, "Your Light," deep inside of me

"The Father, of All Creation!"....

.............."My Soul"............

***************************************

Now waltzing upon, "Your Eternal, Sea!" *


Copyright © Johnny Rhinem | Year Posted 2013

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The WORD-Heroic Crown of Sonnets

BEGINNINGS

The WORD was there before the dawn of time
the Trinity communed in sacred tongue
with sounds unheard, unspeakable, sublime
they uttered words of their unending Love.
With power in God's WORD the world was formed
and from His mouth the universe was placed
His voice so strong, like clapping thunderstorms
God's crowning glory was the human race.
With flaming tongues, God set the sun on high
by His commands, He placed the sea and land
made creatures on the earth and in the sky
and with His breath, God breathed life into man.
Tis mystery, God's ways we'll never know
His Voice, unheard by any living soul.

ANGELS

His Voice, unheard by any living soul
and yet in heaven angels heard His Voice
while gathered round God's throne they would behold
His majesty, and with their songs rejoice.
Angelic messengers went to and fro
to carry out the bidding of the Lord
and Lucifer, so beautiful and bold
was chosen to receive a grand reward.
To him was given power o're the earth
a prince to oversee, protect his realm
yet with great pride, he viewed his greater worth
than God Almighty, and from heaven fell.
Allowing freedom, even angels find
most Holy God proclaimed His grand design.

EDEN

Most Holy God proclaimed His grand design
the master artist, architect of life
made rivers, trees, and mountains so divine
a stunning monument of paradise.
Alluring sweet aromas filled the air
from Eden's garden, wafting round about
young lambs could lay inside a lion's lair
peace reigned, the world was innocent throughout.
While in the Garden, Adam walked with God
it was not good for man to walk alone
the Lord made woman from his side to love
in unity their bond with God did grow.
Conversed with God, their conversation flowed
with sounds so pure, it made the angels glow.

GOD AND MAN

With sounds so pure, it made the angels glow
while birds sang out sweet, melodious songs
round sacred pathways man and God would stroll
midst lavish realms of life the whole day long.
For Love's sake, God placed man above the rest
He gave him choice, would man remain steadfast?
Since God knew man, He put him through a test
to see if freedom in their love would last.
So stood two trees, of knowledge and of life
forbidden fruit, a taste of death and fate
to disobey would bring men sin and strife
would hurl them to death's tomb, from love to hate.
A choice to make, would man yield to God's plan?
Creator God, who knew the heart of man.

ADAM AND FREE WILL

Creator God, who knew the heart of man
infused a spark of His own being to
his handiwork, so man could understand
a love so deep, it transforms souls anew.
To demonstrate the cherished love they shared
the Lord put stunning brilliance in the skies
sunrise, sunsets, the moon and stars shone there
to mark days passing, evidence of time.
To Adam, God assigned to name the beasts
spent time with them, observing how they lived
a daunting task, yet he could truly see
the benefits sweet innocence could give.
God's costly risk, man's free will was at stake
desired faithfulness, a choice to make.

TEMPTATION

Desired faithfulness, a choice to make
the WORD most High ordained to bring about
knew Satan would be crouched at Garden's gate
would enter in and cause great harm throughout.
The darkness slowly slithered to the light
and sweetly masked its hate with lying tongue
approached the woman, Eve, made wrong seem right
and tempted her to sin, that wicked one!
When Eve found out that she could be like God
her spirit lit with passion in her eyes
she ate the cursed fruit, too late to stop
then Adam joined her folly in his pride.
The devil came to tempt the heart of man
the enemy was near to thwart God's plan.

THE FALL

The enemy was near to thwart God's plan
entangled man, ensnared him with deceit
from perfect paradise mankind was banned
it caused great sorrow, making angels weep.
For it appeared that Satan had his way
had shattered lives so intimate with God
the Lord who Sees foresaw this fateful day
yet undeterred, a plan anew was wrought.
Though banished from the Garden, God remained
with Eve and Adam and their vast offspring
descendants came, too numerous to name
along with wickedness to God, their King.
Chaotic sin and death ruled Adam's race
yet sacrifice would cover for Love's sake.







.




 
Submitted on 5/9/2016
Heroic Crown Of Sonnets contest



Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2016

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Crown of Sonnets - Part Two


Heroic Crown of Sonnets -  Part Two  

A Year Of Months

8. 

July now follows summer's song of June;
with burning sun, her days are humid, warm.
Great time to languish in the afternoon,
and later, watch an evening thunderstorm.
More lush than ever is the summer grass,
and deep and dense the forests all around.
The energy of summer has amassed
maturity in spring's rebirthing ground.

The month, July is summer's crowning gem:
the height of summertime for get-aways;
to take advantage of the warmth, and then,
put out of mind the past cold weather days.

And yet, we know that summer will adjourn;
the next months show our seasons take a turn.


9. Volta or Turn Verse

The next months show our seasons take a turn;
the height of summer slowly winding down.
The sun hangs low in sky, a cooler burn,
and thoughts of cooler weather bring a frown.
The prime of summer days behind us now
as season cycles come and go on time.
We must accept earth's changes with a bow
and celebrate each season as sublime.

August, September, downslide to the fall;
it won't be long to gather warmer clothes.
Their passing harkens soon October's call
and our November and December shows.

This turn in climate we cannot transcend;
The month of August leads to summer's end.


10. August

The month of August leads to summer's end;
though warm, the grasses turn to yellow-green.
Our sun hangs lower in late summer's trend
to shorter days with cooler nights between.
Still time for beaches, laying by a pool,
yet thoughts are turned to end-of-summer blues,
as children must set sight on back to school,
yet hang on to what's left of August views.

Near end of August, leaves curl on the trees;
the hues of brown and yellow catch our eye.
The deepened shades of green fade in degrees,
and soon it's time that summer says goodbye.

And now we must get ready for the turn,
when cool September's bends to fall's concern.


11. September

When cool September bends to fall's concern,
though still some summer warmth may overflow, 
the shortening of days signals the turn
to think about our autumn's golden glow.
The colored crispness of bright fallen leaves
negates the loss of summer's carefree days.
Progression's slow, but day by day fall weaves
a special time of year that will amaze.

September makes her mark with Labor Day,
when then we know for sure that summer's done.
Our thoughts turn to lifestyles another way,
preparing for our winter time's long run.

September's beauty grows to soon portend
October stirs her brilliant autumn blend.


12. October

October stirs her brilliant autumn blend
of colored leaves that fall and drift away.
Her cold, crisp air we share and now befriend
and are aware that autumn's here to stay.
Progressing still, undressing of our trees,
and days ahead with bouts of sleet or rain.
The beauty of October's painted leaves
now helps to heal the loss-of-summer pain.

The orchards, filled with autumn's ripened gifts
now beckon us to pick them and consume;
aroma, from sweet, luscious pies uplifts – 
replaces missing scents of summer's bloom.

October ends her stay to realize,
November days deliver winter's prize.


13. November

November days deliver winter's prize,
and soon, when we awake on colder days,
we know that fall is sending last goodbyes
as snowy days ahead prepare displays.
The trees, now fully bare of golden shawls;
the rustic browns of branches rule the scene
until the snow drapes them with ermine falls
that cling and drape with whiteness so pristine.

November brings a time we celebrate.
with joyous feasts of food and drink, good cheer,
with family and friends, stay close, relate;
Thanksgiving Day, we honor and revere.

November passes and with her demise,
December comes with end-of-year goodbyes.


14. December

December comes with end-of-year goodbyes.
Full winter now to bloom as days proceed
with snow-filled days, that time that soon implies
we turn our minds to holidays full speed,
when everyone is filled with Christmas joy
and shopping days for loved ones fill each day;
dear families and friends meet to enjoy
this joyous time...our end of year bouquet. 

December is the last month of the twelve
that makes up one year's measured time we spend;
a final year to finish and soon shelve
when midnight brings December to its end.

A brand new year of twelve will now appear;
divided into months is our Earth year.


15. First Line of Each Sonnet Poem

Divided into months is our Earth year,
and January starts as a new page.
Month two, cold February, will appear;
next comes our windy March to take her stage.
When April comes on pussy-willow feet,
and month of May unfolds her blossoms soon,
our mid-year month of June brings summer heat.
July now follows summer song of June.

The next months show our seasons take a turn;
the month of August leads to summer's end
when cool September's bends to fall's concern,
October stirs her brilliant autumn blend.

November days deliver winter's prize.
December comes with end-of-year goodbyes.


Sandra M. Haight

~2nd Place~
Contest: Heroic Crown of Sonnets (Part Two)
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Judged: 06/09/2016

8 Sonnets


Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016

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Crown Of Sonnet Marionette To Misery Part Two

MARIONETTE TO MISERY  part two

Sonnet Nine

But death can take the grave mistakes I make,
I take the devil, hold him while he falls.
I shake; he dies because of blood I take.
The grieve of eve, I break, release recalls.

A social scandal, feed on news like sharks,
The steel around my wrists, a shade of gray.
I pound against the metal bars in darks,
Reporters pry the lies and come my way.

I’m front and center page in black and white,
A swollen lip deforms my taste and face.
My hands describe the bribe of demon sight,
I must be freed to run, I’m out of place.

It was my turn believe my turn to win
And time can heal the wounds with scars on skin.

Sonnet Ten 

And time can heal the wounds with scars on skin,
I look at tired days and rub my bump.
Destiny, life awaits to breathe, begin
Again but when, I’m just a useless lump.

Silence no longer cares, I mourn my deed
In wait of flowers draping Master’s grave.
His root is still on Earth, his carried seed.
I know I will be bound and still a slave.

I search for moving feet, I feel no turn.
Instinct ignored, I must believe to breathe.
No help, it comes not when I beg to learn,
And finally allowed to flee, I leave.

I hold no heart inside, my heart I ache,
I live for longing, still I long to break.

Sonnet Eleven

I live for longing, still I long to break,
I found the help succeeded, baby thrives,
I fought for her beyond the normal stakes
A labor painful, child arrives alive.

I held her hands so small, perfect in grace,
Her cheeky rose of blush so innocent.
Auburn the hair cascades around her face.
Moments I held her should be heaven sent.

My baby Beauty, still I felt no joy.
Her eyes remind me, blood on hands I’ve held.
My harsh regret, she wasn’t born a boy,
Unending cries, I bust disgust repelled.

A haze, I wait for days to smile again,
I lose control to which I cannot win.

Sonnet Twelve

I lose control to which I cannot win.
I watch the wall and soak inside my high.
I’m strung unstrong on drinks of coke and gin,
I didn’t even kiss my daughter goodbye.

Her crib was filled with teddy bears, so sweet,
Ignored angel, she still was fine, just fine,
She tossed, she turned but tight I wrapped her feet,
Say sudden infant death, the fault not mine.

I watched her body grow cold of night,
The purple tint of skin, I wasted days.
No one to come, no one to damn my sight.
I wrapped her with her teddy bear bouquets.

The baby Beauty tears, it stopped tonight,
Silence the soul, it bleeds to out of sight.

Sonnet Thirteen 

Silence the soul, it bleeds out of sight,
The dark infects me, once before it shown,
It makes me hurt the ones I love, I write
I’ve frayed the threads and better off alone.

My accidents are doors unlocked to dead,
The Grim of reaper waits for hands to turn,
The guilt, it’s heavy words instead I’m fed,
In shame I sweat the flame, inferno burn.

I wonder why me, girl once innocent,
I would go pray, I once believed in God
And then the devil came, my soul he bent,
Me never doubting, thinking things be odd.

I’m lost, my life’s a mess, I’m not alright,
In blood the ending writes, it comes tonight.


Sonnet Fourteen

In blood the ending writes, it comes tonight.
I won’t be pawn to games Reaper can play.
Prepared me with the razor blades I fight
My story sells; I’m ending this my way.

I look at stars, I fall against the black.
Why does the glass insist on shatters shard.
Repent against the steel serpent attack,
Why does this have to feel so God damn hard?

I saturate in tears, no fault of rain,
Conquest against the breast of broken hearts.
Insane, a grain against the grain of pain
The blood, it doesn’t stop once it starts.

I drown in seas of death decay I think,
Is this a story worth the black of ink? 

Sonnet Fifteen

Is this a story worth the black of ink?
I wonder where I would be, damn the dark.
I fall against the grain, the thoughts I think,
Tonight, I crave the light, I search for spark.

Sober sunshine, it comes to wake the dead.
A toast to trying, with all else, I fail.
The pounding rages deep inside my head.
I live by threads and live to tell the tale.

But death can take the grave mistakes I make.
And time can heal the wounds with scars on skin.
I live for longing, still I long to break.
I lose control to which I cannot win.

Silence the soul; it bleeds out of sight,
In blood, the ending writes, it comes tonight.



Copyright © Casarah Nance | Year Posted 2016

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Heroic Crown of Sonnets 2

8.Reading

I see them all rise to an endless sky.
Tumbling burnt pages from raging fire,
To leave ash of closer, to pacify.
A single deep breath near flaming pyre.
To see destruction with a silent face.
My eyes will cry when my soul is reborn,
And melts love's charade without a trace,
To feel a deeper sense of utter scorn.
I'll re-read those times, those places of pain.
Turn each blurring page still covered in ink,
And grasp sorrow, my caused domain,
To know its time for the mind to rethink.

 To see memory's flames or ashes cold
 To leave a hearth black stained by a fool's gold.

9.Freedom

To leave a hearth black stained by fool's gold.
Grasp reality of destruction wrought.
Find a beginning of a story now told,
And clear a conscience from every wrong sought.
To me yesterday was a troubled time.
Now tossed in a fire by a spirit tired.
To release old deeds, to become sublime,
And free this burden from days conspired.
I'll empty ghostly ashes in the wind,
And gather joy from a new freedom found.
Though reading confessions not to rescind,
As they flutter slowly above sacred ground.

 Empty this hearth from its deep tearful sleep.
Filled with dung rich charcoal from flames that weep.

10.Reflection

Filled with dung rich charcoal from flames that weep.
Reflections from what ever deed was wrong.
Memories now burned I shall never keep.
Wistful regret to let go, not prolong.
How crooked the path to find this resolve.
Tribulations faced to be cast aside.
To remember such things, to now absolve.
From years passing, to have grown inside.
To recollect and make peace in silence.
Finding wisdom in the sadness of youth.
When desire was King and love a science.
When lies were a sweet fragrance of truth.

 To sit in contemplation, as I'm old.
 A moments pause for memories turned cold.

11 Acknowledgement

A moments pause for memories turned cold.
To find regret in a time long ago.
When passionate kisses from lips were sold,
And a puppeteer's strings ended the show.
To see faces now with my due sorrow,
And claim my own emptiness in its time
Knew poems written were loves to borrow,
And each poem acknowledging my crime.
To bear witness to cruelty of hearts.
In days younger without care or remorse
To burn these writings now with all their parts,
And see in time I had changed my course.

 I'll unveil the truth for the sowing I reap.
 I'll free my chastened heart so it can sleep.

12 Peace

I'll free my chastened heart so it can sleep,
And seek comfort when eyes slowly close.
Find sweet dreams again, not shadows creep.
To sleep with heart soft, to the night expose.
Welcome peace from a past I've torn apart.
Know resurrection from a death imposed.
Convince my soul we shall never part.
A marriage revealed I have not opposed.
To set this fire with pages turned brown,
And remove each one from its proper place.
Toss it crumbled onto this fiery ground.
Remember with sadness each fading face.

  This painful cause forever on display.
 I'll build a fire blazing to yesterday.

13 Healing

I'll build a fire blazing to yesterday.
I'll light the hottest flame with haunting past
To free each ghost that I've allowed to stay.
In flames of my sorrowful heart I'll cast.
The stinging guilt reveals the saddest eyes.
Distance of years always expose a fool.
Silently heal, to understand is wise.
Hidden and sheltered to be minuscule.
I've rendered my heart to its deepest hue,
And burned dark shadows that had claimed a space.
I've traveled this ground for a better view.
To revisit a past my eyes must embrace.

 As smoke rises I will quietly stay.
 To purify my heart I'll reclaim this day.

14 Release

To purify my heart I'll reclaim this day.
Raise my arms to the bluest round sky.
Bless the moment and pay for its delay.
Feel each tear fall as I quietly cry.
I'll watch the sun rise with a mind now free.
Sleep without turmoil in the darkest night.
With regret I'll look back, the times I see.
And watch them disappear with such delight.
How cold love is if you are a captor,
And chained in its prison where you don't care
Footsteps move slow with a jailers laughter .
You'll shuffle down the halls you'll always share.
 
 I've burnt each poem for its darkness found
 Remembrance of quilt from pages turned brown.

15 Purification

Remembrance of guilt from pages turned brown
To read old poems, now scattered debris
Faded and torn from the books I throw down.
I'll build a funeral pyre for all to see
Yesterday's poems I've folded in time
To be cast in flames where memories cry
Their smoke froze in dark colored air will climb
I see them all rise to an endless sky
To leave a hearth black stained by a fool's gold
Filled with dung rich charcoal from flames that weep
A moments pause for memories turned cold
I'll free my chastened heart so it can sleep

 I'll build a fire blazing to yesterday
 To purify my heart I'll reclaim this day

contest Heroic Crown of Sonnets








Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2016

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Crown Of Sonnet Marionette To Misery Part One

MARIONETTE TO MISERY part one

Sonnet One

Is this a story worth the black of ink?
The write of rhyme and time, confessions true.
I held on sane until I broke the blink,
I gave my life; I give it now to you.

I was so ordinary once before,
I wanted nothing more, silence of one.
Comfort I cradled while alone adore,
My show, the one I know, a done rerun.

A plain refrain, I shied in solitude.
Confrontations embraced by closing doors
I gave it nothing, finding nothing rude.
The skies despise me, when it rains it pours.

The storms do warn the clouds to disembark,
I wonder where I would be, damn the dark.

Sonnet Two

I wonder where I would be, damn the dark.
I lost the light along the way, I’m lost.
My mental state relates a question mark.
I buy my beauty knowing what it costs.

I must be changed; I fear the years to come.
Affording life is hard, I need a hand.
No family, I see my future numb,
It’s time to bend my heart and take a stand.

The scales are aged on years of twenty-four.
A wrinkle sighs on eyes of hardened steel.
I know inside I hide the wanting more,
Oh, can I change, I need a hand to heal.

A thought of love reveals in wants, I sink,
I fall against the grain, the thoughts I think.

Sonnet Three

I fall against the grain, the thoughts I think.
It’s all I could do, get on with my life.
I give myself a get’em girly wink,
I would be free, completely good, a wife.

So many mouths, I’m kissing frogs for fun.
My self restrictions done, I’m out to fly.
Explore detours until I find the one,
I’m smoking, drinking, getting high as sky.

My shame, it has a place I often dwell.
I changed so well, I could not tell my mind.
I trapped myself by wealth, a living hell.
Answers I sought, future I have to find.

I owned the sight so long, I’ve paid the dark.
Tonight, I crave the light, I search for spark.

Sonnet Four

Tonight, I crave the light, I search for spark.
A foolish brave, I rave against the raven.
Be black as shadows, drift away my dark,
Comfort me Master, ready, set, begin.

He licks my wounds and writes my new novel.
I fall on knees, I please, he wants more.
I give and live, he teaches show and tell.
He takes me places never gone before.

He sets a fire to ashes, watch me burn.
My Master faster captures strong my flame.
He gives me choice, a voice, a life to learn.
A chance to dance, he asks I give my name.

I’m named as Lady to Master Sir, I wed.
Sober sunshine, it comes to wake the dead.

Sonnet Five

Sober sunshine, it comes to wake the dead.
I hide the past in casts of stone, reborn.
My happiness is thriving, lover’s bed.
Enchanted knight and lightly unicorn.

We played the games of fame, a shine on scene.
The shooting stars on skies of night we flew.
I never knew the true, he could be mean,
Oh, what the Lady Red was going through.

My whole relationship displayed online
For eyes and ears witnessed my highs and lows.
I wanted fame but shame became a mine
Erupting shows exploding blow by blows.
I raise my glass and cheers against his ale,
A toast to trying, with all else, I fail.

Sonnet Six

A toast to trying, with all else, I fail.
We crumble with a pocket full of cash.
A steady drip on rivers setting sail.
To that interest we smothered down to ash.

He talked of fatherhood, he wanted sons.
I fear anxiety of family.
He told me please to give him just a one,
Depressed I rest in dark, it follows me.

A nightly haunt, it taunts me, widow’s tomb,
It wants my doom, my gloom, I hate the dream.
My hope is broke, I soak in sours womb.
No, nothing good, I should refuse to scream.

I wet in sweat the sheets upon my bed.
The pounding rages deep inside my head.

Sonnet Seven

The pounding rages deep inside my head.
I give the Master what he wants, a child.
The tears I cry, I lie in wasted bed.
I’m fed my pills to keep emotions mild.

My tummy grows, I feel the kick inside.
I want my motherhood to shine, I glow.
I count my blessings, life can please the tried.
It can be good, it will be good, I know.

But when the test arrives, the ultra sound,
Female result, my Master shouts disgust.
He begs abortion when no one’s around.
He thinks he owed a male, he thoughts are just.

I fight against his fists, I wail, I fail.
I live by threads and live to tell the tale.

Sonnet Eight

I live by threads and live to tell the tale.
He changed, a monster, blames me, damns my sight.
A living hell, I try to leave, I fail.
Intoxicated, he’s ready to fight.

My fault, I feel the failure blur my bite,
As teeth I clench so tight I feel the verb.
He strikes my story making ink tonight
On sheets I scream silence I must disturb.

My stitches sown, he says he’s sorry, lies.
Torment my mouth, it twitches, itches, bleeds.
I swallow words; I heard enough, he tries
I’m hiding bruises, space is what he needs.

My hands are cold, anger inside, I shake.
But death can take the grave mistakes I make.


Copyright © Casarah Nance | Year Posted 2016

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Heroic Crown of Sonnets 1

1.Remembrance

Remembrance of guilt from pages turned brown,
To be read in darker rooms of my mind.
Written through time with tears sliding down.
I will claim each dung lit cavern I find.
My yesterdays speak of a poignant time.
Holding each soft lie practiced to deceive.
The many poems, fluidity of rhyme.
Candles to melt in colors I'd conceive.
This game of hearts was a road to sadness.
Finding false joy was a conqueror's scheme.
As endings included heartfelt madness.
The dance ended in a broken heart's dream.

 To be blinded from pain I could not see.
 To read old poems, now scattered debris.

2.Secrets

To read old poems, now scattered debris.
Drifting through time like a slow turning wheel.
The secrets written on spokes that turn free.
Leave tracks in the mind, a path to reveal.
This road taken with its once selfish means.
My journey spent is but a looking glass.
As death befalls love from one that demeans.
Love was left withering a lonely morass.
How many pages of love never found?
This search to fill an emptiness from birth.
The staging,the set,the music,the sound.
When loneliness attempts to value its worth.

 The faint echo from time, each lover's frown.
 Faded and torn from the books I throw down.

3.Torn Pages

Faded and torn from the books I throw down.
Tossed in foul winds of yesterday's games.
Lovers were pawns in a silk flowing gown.
The faces flash by without any names.
How empty it was, now older and sane.
Covered in dirt from roads that were taken.
Understanding truth my mental disdain.
This unspoken bond that was forsaken.
These ghosts from the mist that always remain.
A past of shadows still haunting my mind.
Never cleansed by the years, this bringer of pain.
A thief that stole hearts, then was unkind.

 To allow the world to know what I flee.
 I'll build a funeral pyre for all to see.

4.Funeral Pyre

I'll build a funeral pyre for all to see.
With higher flames for the scourge of my bane.
I'll delete the past to set myself free.
Cross the bridge that spanned my evil domain.
The turmoil wrought, reasons never to care.
Trapped by illusion of a vanquished foe.
The minutes given the bodies to share.
The price of misery I'll always owe.
How dark love is when nothings ever meant.
When lies spill from lips as trust denied.
The days and nights were rushed without lament.
Innocent hearts bled because they complied.

 To have a sense of my past paradigm.
 Yesterday's poems I've folded in time.

5.Emptiness

Yesterday's poems I've folded in time,
Only recalled in the darkness of night.
Replayed in my mind reveals every crime.
Smooth flattering words for eyes delight.
This hole in my soul could never be filled.
Stranger in worlds where all people conflict.
Angry from pursuit of emotion I've spilled.
Cradled warm hearts with a hurt to inflict.
Emptiness showed when my soul was devoured.
Claimed as a prize from a blackened cold heart.
Held as a ransom, shared with a coward
Two became one separate nor apart.

 The next poem in line to purify,
 To be cast in flames where memories cry.

6.Graveyard

To be cast in flames where memories cry.
From depth of my mind those departed.
The hate they carried of the question why.
No regrets were had for the course charted.
They had no reason for hiding their thought
As it was born from seeds unintended.
The precious jewel called love that they sought,
Died in my lying arms as intended.
This graveyard is filled with to many graves.
Caused by an emotional heartless space.
Collected as trophies desire engraves,
To be burned in this fire without a trace

 Tossed in the flames to burn away my crime.
 Their smoke froze in dark colored air will climb.

7.Guilty

Their smoke froze in dark colored air will climb,
As ashes crumble from evil now lost.
This carried burden across passing time,
Finally accountable for the cost.
Those dreams were fleeting caged moments held tight.
A small souvenir to be kept confides.
Restless from reasons of what's wrong, what's right,
And wrapped by time's cloak where my failure hides.
United with guilt as my years grow short.
Seeking truth from my life's darkest stain.
Finding sadness from a past I'll abort.
A trembling fragility I disdain.

 To give some peace to each face I made cry.
 I see them all rise to an endless sky.

Contest. Heroic Crown of Sonnets






Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2016

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The WORD- Heroic Crown of Sonnets

THE LAW

Yet sacrifice would cover for Love's sake
before that time, the Law was sent to guide
sin offerings appeased man's guilty state
but could not change his rebel heart inside.
The WORD was written down on Torah scrolls
with warnings and commandments to obey
God's prophesies with promises foretold
of blessings and forgiveness when they strayed.
To Israel, His people, God proclaimed
a Covenantal promise of a king
Messiah, Blessed One, would come and save
a broken people, prone to wandering.
A glimpse of hope, they waited through the years
one holy night the Promised One appeared.

THE PROMISED ONE

One holy night the Promised One appeared
You came to us in lowly manger stall
a helpless babe, to give Your life so dear
the Lamb of God, pure sacrifice for all.
While in this world You walked a sinless path
the Father's will to follow til the end
You healed the sick, the lame, the blind, and cast
the evil demons out of hearts of men.
You shared God's kingdom come to multitudes
of hungry men and women, all were fed
You broke the loaves of bread for all and knew
that one day they'd reject the Living Bread.
The Living Bread, Lord Jesus, new and fresh
God's only Son, the WORD, came in the flesh.

JESUS, THE WORD

God's only Son, the WORD, came in the flesh
fulfilling all the prophesies of old
yet scribes and pharisees would soon reject
You, Jesus, since You did not fit their mold.
Instead, You spoke of matters of the heart
not outward acts, but conflicts deep within
of pride and greed and deeds done in the dark
of right and wrong, of wickedness and sin.
You said You had God's power to forgive
if we believe, Your love could set us free
transform our hearts so we could truly live
for You would take our place up on that tree
You came to give us hope and draw us near
to preach the gospel truth for all to hear.

THE GOSPEL

To preach the gospel truth for all to hear
Your people came from all across the land
You taught in parables to make things clear
but still Your people did not understand.
For sin had marred their thinking, blinded eyes
still many listened, some believed Your words
the call went out, repent, believe, realize
You were Messiah, Son of Man, on earth.
And yet good deeds by man could not atone
for Holy God demanded righteousness
the only way to God was Christ alone
to die for sins and our rebelliousness.
You came to cover our unrighteousness
You came to save mankind from sin and death.

THE SACRIFICE

You came to save mankind from sin and death
it was the Father's will that this be done
with Holy Spirit power in Your breast
a substitute for sin You would become.
Then as was planned, one night You were betrayed
by one of Your disciples, cursed kiss!
An unjust trial, false accusers paid
Your sentence, blasphemy, then scorned and whipped.
A crown of thorns was placed upon Your head
while heading to the cross Your people scoffed
"Go save Yourself!", while silently you bled
You suffered, then you died up on that cross.
Atoning sacrifice, Your life You gave
then You arose, triumphant from the grave!

THE RESURRECTION

Then You arose, triumphant from the grave
and bursting forth, unfettered by the tomb
You broke the bonds of death, prepared the way
for us to gain eternal life with You.
With transformed body, You appeared to man
to women and disciples that You loved
appeared to crowds before Your grand ascent
a testament that You would rise above.
You carried all my sins, what matchless grace!
and conquered death for all those who believe
if I confess, believe in humble faith
You fill me with Your Spirit to receive.
You sit at God's right hand in bright array
And from above, You'll come again someday.

SONNET 14
And from above You'll come again someday
in righteousness and judgment to correct
this wicked weary world from fallen state
and reign as Holy King with Your elect.
Oh, Holy God, it is not ours to know
or understand the whats and whys and ifs
except as You reveal, as Your WORD goes
henceforth across the earth that all might live.
The truth in Your WORD challenges our hearts
to follow in obedience or scorn
the message of Your grand, redeeming part
in history, a Rose among the thorns.
New life begins, I'll sing in heaven's rhyme
the WORD was there before the dawn of time.

FUTURE PROMISE

The WORD was there before the dawn of time
His Voice, unheard by any living soul
Most Holy God proclaimed His grand design
with sounds so pure it made the angels glow.
Creator God, who knew the heart of man
desired faithfulness, a choice to make
the enemy was near to thwart God's plan
yet sacrifice would cover for Love's sake.
One holy night the Promised One appeared
God's only Son, the WORD, came in the flesh
to preach the gospel truth for all to hear
You came to save mankind from sin and death.
Then You arose, triumphant from the grave
And from above You'll come again someday.


Written 5/12/2016
Heroic Crown of Sonnets


Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2016

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Ghosts of the Sun Dance-Part 2

8. Transformation

Yielding to those who have mastered the art
Of grasping one's place in existence's grand scheme
Life’s constant challenges never depart
But humble diligence will grow the dream

In passing from childhood to adulthood
Innocence to responsibility
Firm new role can be grasped and understood
In life, pain’s inevitability

A mother birthing new life through the pain
Dad slowly works his fingers to the bone
Soldiers trudging all night though frigid rain
Bearing remarkable burdens alone

Accomplishing in life what must be done
In this day’s heat or ere the morning run

9. Volta: Race Day

In the day’s heat or ere the morning run
Resolve has hardened in preparation
For this sacred journey under the sun
Through the land of the Navajo nation

Race morning is upon us, we prepare
Patient dawn waits below sharp horizon
Last meals and supplies, shoes and garb we wear
Gather together, our spirits rising

A convocation and tribal blessing
In the solemn shadows of the mesas
Final rituals, tying and dressing
Spirit warriors in garb of racers

The starter’s gun sends our bodies lurching
Footfalls queuing the inward eye’s searching

10. Inward Journey Begins

Footfalls queuing the inward eye’s searching
A harmonious quest will not fail
Meeting the spirit hawk inside perching
Melding feet to the undulating trail

Smooth hand circles driving arms swinging free,
Shoulders relaxed, rotate forward and back,
Trace three-dimensional infinity.
Every sinew not involved, loose and slack.

Countertwist rotation, thrust straight behind 
Muscle springs compress, explode, power grows
Whipcrack diamondback wriggles down my spine
Through my circling legs, last snap through the toes.

With focus on moment in longest run 
Our life’s greatest challenges can be won

11. Meditation

Our life’s greatest challenges will be won
With the spirit and not by the sinews
At times next to you the Dance’s ghosts run
Other times they can be found within you

Smooth, rolling strides become my rhythm and rhymes
Subtly pick open my heart and mind’s locks
At peace, I'm inured to passage of time 
A slack-jawed Buddha floats between the rocks

Sun-baked vermillion cliff, eternity 
Spirit of the wild, you are the portal 
Stretching out to you, encompassing me 
Melt, intertwine, these moments immortal 

Fallen angels, my soul is expurging
When the body, mind, and soul are merging

12. Crucible

When the body, mind, and soul are merging 
Million drops of agony are the test
Pail overflows, vitality purging
Time spans both horizons, forgotten rest

Flesh hooks of my own Sun Dance dig deeper
Through muscle and bone, draining resistance
Standing face to face with soul’s gatekeeper
Grasping the barest threads of existence

Inside, my withering heart starts to burn
Black crucible over the white-hot flame
Ethereal hands grant me their return
By my side, shadows dance, whisper my name

Body aflame, yet not longer burning
Through sacred quests, our spirits returning

13. Resolution

Through sacred quests, our spirits returning
Wan smile as I reach the final milestone
The line is crossed, strangely without yearning
From the summit, we always return home

The Spirits have won, silently rejoice
Spasming leg muscles announce their first clue
Weary soul may have found its deepest voice
But penitent’s flesh will yet have its due

Dusty column of exhausted racers
Shuffling past hallowed final marker
Sun Dancers’ ghosts fade into the mesas
To echoed drumbeats our spirits harken

Our guides to the Spirit World returning
This modern Sun Dance, an ancient yearning

14. Aftermath

This modern Sun Dance, an ancient yearning
With Spirits’ help, my soul has passed this test
Feet caressed the trail while muscles burning
My abiding need, this challenging quest

This long day ends without ceremony
Racers festooned in laurels internal
The trail run’s own spirituality
Modern Sun Dancers’ reward eternal

While the roads to the summit are many
One means up the mountain for those who seek
Life’s spiritual rigors aplenty
A runner’s path may also find the peak

Deep within us, we need this victory
A quest dating back through our history

15. Ghosts of the Sun Dance

A quest dating back through our history
Transcendence, to shed our skin and transform
Beyond mundane, to sacred mystery
Through painful trials, seeker’s soul is reborn

Our modern world lacks initiations
With substance to satisfy questing hearts
Life’s road of genuine tribulations
Yielding to those who have mastered the art

In this day’s heat or ere the morning run
Footfalls queuing the inward eye’s searching
Our life’s greatest challenges can be won
When the body, mind, and soul are merging

Through sacred quests, our spirits returning
This modern Sun Dance, an ancient yearning

5/19/16
Copyright by Author
For contest: Heroic Crown of Sonnets
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Syllables confirmed by howmanysyllables.com


Copyright © Tom Quigley | Year Posted 2016

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Poetry Soup

She was always there 
Afraid to speak
She hid in corner of my mind
In the dark
She knew
She could feel 
She could see
But yet 
She was different some how 

Poetry Soup has made her feel at home
With a warm embrace 
An their guiding grace
She knows now that this is her place 
Home Sweet Home..... 


Copyright © Ninette Carey | Year Posted 2015

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MOCKINGBIRD - crown of sonnets

#1 "It is a sin to kill a Mockingbird. When playing games with rocks or guns, defray, them, please, ...shoot old tin cans!" "Whispered words of Mockingbirds, only heal wounds of the day" Virtues are cultivated, children are weeds, exploring a small southern town. Seeds, so rare, spread moral ivy, filling knotholes, threading trees, lining streets, during mad-dog summers. Scout, one sprout with solid roots, sifts wrong from right in spite of bull-headed pride. Stirring up dust, where resistance incites, although, brother, Jem, gently, grows more reserved. Scout, Jem, ...best bud, "Dill", are bronzed by summer's sky Moral's compass guides them home, as night returns #2 Moral's compass guides them home, as night returns yet challenged, the precocious child making assumptions. Folks would confound her! Some people were an oddity and quite beguiling Summer would sigh with ceiling fans, softly purring, people napping, long afternoons. Wilted yawns of a lethargic town, might seem undisturbed, with complacency, behind pruned shrubs, tall grass, mowed. Yet stilted air, would suffocate, with racial slurs and secret hate. Some hid by day, and spending their nights in masquerade, while crosses burned. We'd see a face, pretentious smile, falsely blend Integrity, at bitter cost, split wide the seams in 1930. Civil rights were just a dream #3 In 1930, civil rights were just a dream, and motherless children were coming of age. Bare feet were swift. Bandaged knees and hands unclean, would slam old screen doors, to seek lemonade. A ghost, they feared, in the raw sided house, watched close. A tree in his yard, hid treasures he stashed. The three Musketeers, upon discovering, shout! Armed by bravado, they are ready to dash. Putting yourself into another man's shoes, is a lesson, soon learned by Scout and Jem. They've faced their fear, and will make a friend. "Boo", the 'phantom', a new best friend left trinkets and gems. Kindness learned, role model intact, was Atticus Finch. A measure of integrity, inch by inch. #4 A measure of integrity, inch by inch, advocate for those who won't stand a chance. Folks down on their luck, where dollars won't stretch in a depression full blown. Money is scant. Fighting for the underdog, who have no paycheck. What's right is right. What's wrong, is wrong. Someone must stand at the end of the day, where flies fill a courtroom and tempers grow stronger. Regardless of skin, be it black, be it white Unfit, by standards of talcum shaved chins, if injustice is war, he'll give his lot. The falsely accused, he'll defend, to the end Those who wallow in mud, eventually sling lies when honor goes to hell, and folks sit idle #5 When honor goes to hell, and folks sit idle, false accusations can simmer, slowly inciting bigoted people, into mobs, spewing cries of hate. Screaming "rape" into the night. Ignorance and prejudice, are all of one stuff with corn-likker sauce and gravy mentality, amphibian worms, as if from a trough, gorging on mania. They covet brutality. Led by Bob Ewell, with arrogance oozing. Clan- fed, tantrums squirming out of control. Small minded men, choosing squalor, alluding the truth. Some would sell their mother's soul. They have lied on the stand, where justice treaded thin. Where white man's word, over a black, always wins. #6 Where a white man's word, over black, always wins, was a rule of the thumb, during those years... The innocent man, Tom, shackled, condemned, taken away and waits to die, and endure With Indian summer, waxing and waning, Atticus chooses the simplest words. His children need, wisdom, and calm understanding, in trying to explain, that most men are good. He tells them, gently, how someone so crude, even Bob Ewell, no matter how evil perhaps in his life, was misunderstood. The hellish of summers begins to unravel. But another ill wind, would brew up a storm, to bring more than a flurry, into their home. #7 To bring more than a flurry into their home, burnt embers of color, drift down, red and yellow. Carved pumpkins, and a grieving autumn, looms in the night. Roaches encroach, deep in the shadows As Scout rushes homeward, behind her on the trail, a whiskey-breath nightmare, with evil intentions Then, someone appears! Halts this devil,...,Ewell is not immortal! .....as we come to conclusion. A guardian presence, waiting to rally has kept a vigil, guarding children who run, swiftly through thickets. Lonely Boo Radley, appeared like an angel, a bird seeking the sun So pure of heart, and a thing so rare It is a sin to kill a mockingbird
__________________________ Re-submitted for Skat's Premiere Contest: #4


Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2014

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Jesus Call His Name

When in doubt
Call his name
When in pain
He will take it away

Call his name
When you say a Prayer
If your sad and blue
He is there for you

If you want a hug
He will embrace you
If you want to talk
He will listen

Call his name
If you want answers
If you have doubts
He is the one

Call his name
If you want someone to love
Sing to him
Give him praise

Lend a ear
Give a hand
Help those in need
Call his name


Copyright © Angel Plant | Year Posted 2013

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Mesmerizing Butterfly - enamoured soul

Tropical quadra plateau, Amazing bright sunny,
Glided waterfall Carrying happiness in their gunny.
Long nodding flower's joyously plumed,
Everbody waving happily, the herald bloomed.
Eureka, I love this heaven on earth!

Hazy perished hills, houses trenching at the outskirts,
Swaning over to the fluctuating peak of mountains, roosted with struts.
Orchid waftured, Clinging on to the cluster of flowers,
Precipitated rain was about to shower.
Gosh, it Stimulated my soul!

King of beast, sucking the sweet tempting fragranced juices,
Solitary alienate species including Honey bees mused badly abuses.
Fluttered wings, Struggling with them, Leisurely travelling my journey.
Fitnessed physically as if I am in an defensing army.
Situation turned to be  horribly muddle,
Tremendously, I wanted to sort and excitedly cuddle!

Proud to have an Airfoiled wings of mine,
Antennate feature you prissily shine.
Rainbowis passion lying inside me,
Resourcefully mingled with music and dance, happening besides me.
Whoa,People got entranced!

People jeopardize the innate beauty,
Relishingly wanna do my duty.
Actuating my arms, Ventured to fly high.
Intended inspiration wanted to reach the sky.
Weaving the web spiderman thirstily trying me to catch.
Escaping from them I ran, prevented myself from getting snatched.
Ohhh,They had a Hostile faction accord!

Nature's beauty aspiringly propelled me.
Blowing wind, tactily sensisizing my skin,
Blushing cheeks, spilled the bean.
Nocturnal creatures will wake in the dark,
Aerophilically dangling around the shruby bed,before they bark
Stopping by sayonara, continuing my next  stigmatic destiny!

By Madhavi.Suyog.Pagare



Copyright © Madhavi Sarjare pagare | Year Posted 2013

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Mankind

I am lost
I can feel no presence
I know of no human or animal that has a measure of significance alike mine
I have a teacher
A teller of all there is to be known of the world
She has bestowed upon me the gifts of a magi
I have sailed deep oceans with noblemen and written great works with worldly scholars
All of this I owe to her, my "teacher"
But through all her wisdom I have heard or seen of no such creature
The one of whose value is as mine
I looked upon the oracle and many great libraries with scriptures overflowing
I still have read or seen of no such monster
I've heard witches speak ancient incantations
and I have sung songs with the sirens
Out of the monsters and spirits that came none of which had a significance as is mine
Upon my dreariness and woeful thought came the final place
A painting of life and death
A tale of heaven and hell at war
The purity of truth blackened by man
 I saw upon them a thing of which is mine
Not upon the dead who will be missed
Nor the skeletons carrying away the dead, the ones with purpose
Not even of the severed limbs and broken bones discarded at random in the field of chaos and confusion
No, I saw my equal upon the shadows
A black being darker than silence
A causer of mischief and misfortune
A wielder of pain and sorrow
My equal is hated by all for all he has done
My equal is upon the wicked and the damned sadly he is to dumb to care
My equal of such tresspasses is a demon
My equal is a man who dressed in black kills and dies and is born again through his ashes of filth
He sees his crimes
It is because of this he wept upon his hands
His hands
The hands stained my children's blood and scared by the scratches of the innocent
But I was wrong
I am not equal to a demon, for these are not the acts of a demon but of man
That is my equal 
My equal is man
My sins are everlasting 
My transgressions are in stone
Man is the cause for the failure of men
Man is the cause for the failure of many!






Posted by Haley Melton at 3:37 AM  
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Copyright © Haley Melton | Year Posted 2014

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Crown of Sonnets - Part One


Heroic Crown of Sonnets - Part One
  
Our Year Of Months

1. Intro

Divided into months is our Earth year;
fixed firm in space to meet with climate change,
relation with our Sun makes it so clear
we will be blessed with seasons that arrange
first three, known as our winter and which are
much colder than the ones of early spring;
those warmer months of April, May, by far
enjoyed more after winter's icy fling.

At mid-way in the year, our summer starts
with June, July and August on their throne.
Soon our September and October arts
paint lovely autumn scenes of fall, full blown.

November and December end year's stage;
and January starts as a new page.


2. January

And January starts as a new page...
first sheet of twelve to see upon the wall.
It clearly hangs, no scribbles, signs of age;
clean slate to set new plans both big and small.
New Year...so many days to get things done,
with resolutions, challenges to face
before the twelve fly off, each one by one;
a whole new year to lovingly embrace.

Again to watch our seasons' magic ways:
the spring and summer flowers, fall, so bright;
our winter wonderland with snow filled days.
This year, another gift of life’s delight,

When January ends, we know it's clear;
month two, cold February, will appear.


3. February

Month two, cold February will appear...
we slip into another winter month.
More times than not with snow days we adhere.
In days of February, we confront
a winter wonderland, a gift to see,
with hills and valleys swirled in white displays.
Ice skating, skiing, sledding, wild and free;
we celebrate our February's phase.

A chance to rest, relax indoors so warm;
spend cozy times with family and friends.
No matter, big snowfall or icy storm,
her wintry mix of white is autumn's cleanse.

When February's done, we must restage;
next comes our windy March to take her stage.


4. March

Next comes our windy March to take her stage.
a winter month, our third is now in line.
And she can be a fickle one, it's true;
bring climate that is wild or quite benign.
'In like a lamb, out like a lion' force,
she teases us with spring then turns around;
and there again, another snow, of course.
So March has her surprises to astound.

But towards her end, we think about our spring,
and March does seem to seal winters end.
We pick up twigs and branches on upswing
of warm and sunny days; on hopes depend.

The month of March will own up to defeat
when April comes on pussy-willow feet.


5. April

When April comes on pussy-willow feet,
we gather images of springtime's sign,
bouquets of varied thoughts of her new feat;
emerging crocus, budding branch and vine.
Symbolic, too, the lily, pure and white;
new chicks and bunnies, butterflies galore.
The fading, icy sting of winter's night
replaced by spring's warm day, long waited for.

We contemplate each image and we know
the thrill of surging hope that swells the soul.
New life, from dormant seed, will rise and show
how spring joy resurrects from winter's dole.

She passes on her joy as next month's tune;
and month of May unfolds her blossoms soon.


6. May

And month of May unfolds her blossoms soon;
she comes between late spring and summer days...
'tween buds of April and full bloom of June.
Spring daffodils and tulips pave the ways
for roses, iris and bright peonies.
Lush leaves of green take on a deeper hue,
from rains in early spring, now somewhat eased,
but nourished well her blossoms that break through.

Our May...her name alone lifts up our hearts;
we've honored her with love throughout the years.
This child of spring achieves her youthful arts
before summer's maturity appears.

Then luscious May will yield to next month's treat;
our mid-year month of June brings summer heat.


7. June

Our mid-year month of June brings summer heat
that deepens colors of light springtime green.
With thicker foliage, the tree tops meet
and sway with rhythm peaceful and serene.
Her green abides in velvet smooth green grass,
that forms a carpet round the graceful trees;
the flow of vines that cling and drape amass,
and willow branches dance in summer's breeze.

June's green brings harmony to heart and mind;
surrounds with gently blended color hues...
a mix of hope in yellow lemon rind
and calm and faithful light of tranquil blues.

On June's last day, she bows to end her tune;
July now follows summer's song of June.


Sandra M. Haight

~2nd Place~
Contest: Heroic Crown of Sonnets (Part One)
Sponsor: Craig Cornish
Judged: 06/09/2016

7 Sonnets


Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016

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The Redemption - Part 1

The Cemetery

A stone shall mark all those that came before
with names engraved forever to be known.
Their soul, if saved, in bliss forevermore,
their body in the earth forever prone.
The beauty of this earthly place of rest
is but a blanket o’er a field of dead.
Its splendor hides the fate we so detest
with verdant views that tranquilize our dread.
A single stone has marked this man I’d known;
a father and a husband to his bride.
Now four years passed, he’d left her all alone.
We’ve gathered here to lay her by his side.
   The living give the body to the ground,
   the solitary soul shall reign unbound.


The Father

The solitary soul shall reign unbound
and pause to wonder why devise a plan
that death be free and mourners must remain;
cruel despite we’ll never understand.
This man I knew who once stood in my place
and in despair had looked upon a grave
to ponder why this life had been erased
and left to leave the living souls enslaved.
And then the bells began their mourning call.
They tolled in time for living souls to share
their union to review a waiting pall
on view inside the chapel on the square.
    The chapel hall had beauty donned galore
    with mortal flesh interned forevermore.


The Chapel

With mortal flesh interned forevermore
in chapel walls adorned by artisans,
a crucifix was hung above the door,
and alter shrouds inscribed with hope for man.
A christened chalice stood on grand display
and held the mimicked blood of Deity.
Drapes were hemmed with ropes of gold inlay
and opened for the morning light to see.
The gilded casket swaddled the deceased
and for that reason all were gathered here.
This family treasure now reclined in peace,
reflecting beauty’s passage so sincere.
    A mother’s death leaves all with such resound,
    we pray the soul is now eternal bound.


The Mother

We pray the soul is now eternal bound
and angels lead her up to heaven’s door
to open in a place where love abounds;
of placid paradise and metaphor.
The passing of her soul had left us cold
as children stood together in their grief
and gazed upon the one to be extolled;
this matriarch had finally found relief.
The coffer lid was softly lowered down.
The viewing of this body now had ceased.
Upon the cask a crimson shroud was bound.
A spray of lilies made the centerpiece.
  In death we find our freedom from the strife,
  through faith we seek an everlasting life.


The Priest

"Through faith we seek an everlasting life",
a guided hand had written on a page,
"And no one enters heaven without strife",
announced the pious prophet from his stage.
In cassock robe with fringe of silver cord
and silk lined sash that hung about his waist
he praised on high the mercy of the lord
and how her soul the heavens now embraced.
With folded hands he looked upon the hosts
and asked of those with memories to share
in fervent voice to honor her in toast
then crown the ceremony in a prayer.
  All celebrate this life and bid goodbye.
  We hope our prayers are heard in heaven high


The Grandson

We hope our prayers are heard in heaven high,
as one so humble rose to speak his peace.
He bowed to recollect the words he’d cite
then raised his brow to share those memories.
He spoke of times when grandma held his head,
when he was young and illness had its grasp.
He shared with us her stories as he read
and all the tender moments of their past.
Just then he looked upon the family
and asked if any other cared to toast
or speak to lift the pain of those bereaved
then silently he left the papal post.
    Although he shared the beauty in her life,
    a fragile son cannot escape the strife.


The Family

A fragile son cannot escape the strife
or bear the heavy burdens of the line.
A daughter grows to be a faithful wife
in fruitful love the families intertwine.
They gather in their grief to share the pain
and as they search for reasons for the fray;
attempts to find those answers are in vain.
As voices cease and silence has its say,
each bearer finds their place along her side
then walks in cadence as they hold the frame;
the pall tucked firmly for the graceful stride.
All fall in line to form the final train.
   As they tarry through the funeral rite,
   with love they make the passage into light.




Heroic Crown of Sonnets contest by Craig Cornish


Copyright © Mark Massey | Year Posted 2016

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The Skeletons And Songs Of Samsara - 1

The skeletons and songs of samsara eternal
fleshed, fattened and flamed in karmic harmony,
your heart begins to beat in dark plethora roll
an in utero thunder thumps godly
as the warmest water touchable enshrouds,
you haven't yet forgotten the sojourn
from whence the soul rests it's debts and doubts
upon web strings of dreams from which we learn
the beauty of blood and age of truth
while an abacus of pearls and teeth
is tabulated by the fingers of virtue's youth,
many a continent and kngdom's wreath
you've worn, on leathered brow split and proud
in the vigor of day no cloud, in night's creep thought so loud,

In the vigor of day no cloud, in night's creep thought so loud
your yantra yawns to new life
as you float in the mercy of a mother's mood heart endowed
while the history of humanity's bliss and strife
is being written in red within your head,
the gnaw and gruel of genetic hunger
shaping the anticipation of being flesh fed,
the memory of your ancient museum fading in the hereafter, 
you begin to recognize the voice of a woman
the one who sings like burning lilacs, 
suddenly trust is all you can taste in your isolation
gravity is pulling the bloodstream into cataracts
where the adrenalin of pain is naked,
the body of your birth shock animated, 

The body of your birth shock animated
let the world witness the tears of purity
from a face too fresh to be incriminated
a baby warm footprint stamps Babylon's equity
you are now the currency of a banking matrix
and a prophecy of liberty's rage,
the milk and madness of a nation's Goddess
dribbles over your desperate mouth, a sweet drippage,
everything you see gives a moment of awe
fear and joy giggle and grimace openly,
the color of instinct is mapping your mind raw
while the seduction of assertion is breathing brazenly
in and out of an infant's eyes
where nothing lies or dies,

Where nothing lies or dies
until you realize how the heart scars
the seed of suffering you recognize
in the anger of authority and envy of peers
sensing that the theft of innocence
is an ecstasy for those with bloodlust
on the tongues of their primitive wickedness
yet you, in your renewable nature robust
play the game of pirate adaptation
using violence to vie for the victory
of pony popularity and rebel rejuvenation, 
rapidly learning that competition is the pathway
to identity glorification,  that happiness is conquest
and the only law that can catch you is hesitance,

And the only law that can catch you is hesitance
so you run into the danger of daylight
oblivious to the onslaught of consequence
racing your friends to fear's fringe of delight
taking trophies of laughter to the limit of loyalty
and in the forest of moonlight
dreams young yet ghostly
lure you into reckless flight,
the supernatural speaks to you through fire
and the cuts to your virgin diamond
are made by lazers of divine desire
preparing you for the promise that cries
in the heart where your naivety resides,

J.A.B.


Copyright © Justin Bordner | Year Posted 2016

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The Redemption - Part 2

The Procession

With love they make the passage into light,
in gardens lush each mourner stood abreast.
Then hand in hand they walked up to the site
she chose to be her final place of rest.
They all had gathered 'round the open ground
to sprinkle petals on the coffer tomb.
Cold silence seemed to be the only sound
as bearers placed it in its earthly womb.
And far behind the mourners stood a pair
of men in whisper as they viewed in grace.
One spoke about his life now in despair
and other days that brought him to this place.
  “No god of love would leave me in such pain,
   alas my faith in thee could be in vain”.


Faith in Vain

Alas my faith in thee could be in vain.
I’d called on you to give me strength to fare
the tragedies that fell on me like rain
and in that hour I could not find you there.
My son and wife are now three years deceased.
Malignancy has filled my mind with fear.
I’ve given up my search for inner peace.
Now only manic demons harbor there.
I still aspire that one day soon I’ll be
released from mortal shackles that I wear
and seek to find in heaven my relief.
Through faith in thee I hope to find them there.
  I wonder why the god of grace would plan
  to test the mortal circumstance of man?


The Cancer

To test the mortal circumstance of man
my body fights a battle from within;
the cure too strong for many to withstand
with poisons meant to make you whole again.
My ravaged state had left me but a shell
and made me wonder why I even tried. 
And as I drifted deeper into hell
my life was saved but for it faith had died.
My guiding light had been my family,
in darkest moments there to lead me on.
I realized that he watched over me,
providing strength in them to keep me strong.
  To know my loving family sustains,
  In death a living memory remains.


The Death of a Son

In death a living memory remains,
the patriarchal heir shall carry on.
In vain I walk because there is no name
to call a father who has lost his son.
He stood by me when I was in despair
and as those hopeless visions filled my head;
so futile my request that life be fair
or pray for death to take me in his stead.
My grandchild's birth, his son, shall free this pain;
too young to know his father could not stay
reminding us the best of him remains.
But sorrow won and death soon claimed its prey.
  With family we can conquer life’s demands;
  one man cannot secure such futile plans.


The Widower

One man cannot secure such futile plans
to ever mend a mother’s broken soul.
She was my lover and my cherished friend,
the anguish finally took its mortal toll.
We placed her in the ground atop her pride.
This single grave now binds me to this ground.
And soon our bodies will be placed aside
with fleeting hopes our spirits can be bound.
I called to Him, “Have mercy on me lord,
in my surrender, I’m a broken man.”
I knew it was his judgement I abhorred.
But who was I to doubt his holy plan?
  A granite stone engraved for evermore;
  the only way that memories endure. 


The Emptiness 

The only way that memories endure
when all my hopes have withered into dust
and everything in life I once adored
is gone and now in nothing will I trust.
My shredded faith I’ve cast into the air
in pieces I may never find again.
With you my friend these memories I share
so in my sorrow you may understand.
The friend just stood in silence for a spell
and turned to look into the mourner's eyes
then spoke of this great gift that had befell
upon him just before his son had died.
  Your faith in life and love you can restore;
  they live within the hearts of those so pure.


The Child

They live within the hearts of those so pure.
Each mourner grieves the passing of this friend.
The life and death for all is to insure
that everything that ends begins again.
A child is such a blessing to receive,
so filled with love it heals our earthly pains.
Just take this child to heart and you’ll receive
the blessing of the love he has ordained.
All those gathered stood for one last prayer.
With silence broken each then found their way
along the paths where others shared despair
among the stones where mortal remnants lay.
  The soul will find its way to Heaven’s door
  A stone shall mark all those that came before.


The Redeemed

A stone shall mark all those that came before,
the solitary soul shall reign unbound.
With mortal flesh interned forevermore,
we pray the soul is now eternal bound.
Through faith we seek an everlasting life,
we hope our prayers are heard on heaven high.
A fragile son cannot escape the strife,
with love they make the passage into light.
Alas my faith in thee could be in vain
to test the mortal circumstance of man.
In death a living memory remains,
one man cannot secure such futile plans.
  The only way that memories endure;
  they live within the hearts of those so pure.


                        Heroic Crown of Sonnets
                                        A. Mark Massey


Copyright © Mark Massey | Year Posted 2016

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Loves' Dreams - Heroic Crown Of Sonnets - 1

Heroic Crown Of Sonnets.

Loves' Dreams.

1
Comes the sun we lie in Love together
The night is gone spent in Loves' embrace
Mine Love and i now in Love forever
The sun of gold dost shine upon thy face
Glory shines as i doth look upon thee
Our Love sings within the soft song of spring
Ye and i embrace within azure free
While we head to Heaven on golden wing
Two hearts now dancing in Loves' golden fire
With pure devotion i doth touch thy soul
Together we've walked out of hates' sad mire
Now the glory of Love is our great goal
Now together for us the sun dost shine
And now we canst taste Loves most potent wine
2
And now we canst taste Loves most potent wine
Come drink Loves' passion in Loves' sweet divine
Dance with me through the white clouds high above
Sing with me now as we share our sweet Love
Before the stars in gay abandon sweet
In Loves' most peaceful dreams our lips doth meet
From Loves' dawning our passion hast been strong
In Heavens' majesty we doth belong
Our Love is a dream that ever shines bright
Its flame is a fire by day and by night
In Loves' endeavour we always shalt be
Swimming together within Loves own sea
When Love doth shine such beautiful weather
Our dream of Love we shalt live forever
3
Our dream of Love we shalt live forever
Holding ye close in my arms thou art a queen
Love is where we are within twilight scene
As we journey on through Loves' endeavour
Mine Love thou art a dream i dream each night
I meet ye deep within Gods' timeless sea
In passions soft grasp thou doth come to me
Our Love dost shine by glorious starlight
In Love's sweet embrace we shalt spend our time
When the soft night dost sing its lullaby
Mine Love it shalt sing mine Angel shalt fly
When the soft night dost sing its rhyme
Love's dreams are awakened and all is fine
Through both day and night our Love it dost shine
4
Through both day and night our Love it dost shine
Tender is mine touch i am Lord of night
In visions eye Love seems to be the light
Remembrance of so many nights' divine
In sweet embrace i hold thy body fine
Over thy flesh what a beautiful sight
Our Love is a candle shining so bright
Together forever thy hand in mine
Our bodies merge at the end of the day
Volcano erupts deep inside mine core
Shadows dance on the wall as we doth play
We doth hath within our dreams' silent roar
Lost Souls in the night what words we doth say
We join as one as we walk through Loves' door

Continued.........



Copyright © Vladislav Raven | Year Posted 2016

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No Fear

                                              
   Where is hope, where is faith? You are all alone,
 No more tears, stop crying, be strong and pray.

 Look within your soul, you will find enduring spirit.
  Don’t panic, take control of your inner self,
Pay less attention on your feelings.

 Listen to your heart; paint the picture of your future on your mind.
 Find the strength to defeat your fears in life.

 Don’t make loud noises, stop talking and listen to your inner self.
  Don’t worry about things you cannot change, move on from your past

  Listen you possessed Great Spirit, 
  You are far more powerful than you will ever know
Stop asking question and be the answer to your own worries in life


Copyright © Busani Zuma | Year Posted 2016