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Best Light Poems

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Details | Light Poem |

The Clouds

THERE HE WAS HOLDING OUT HIS HAND.

My voice=
God, can I hold your hand and go with you?

Gods voice~
My sweet child, it is I who will walk with you now! You walked down my path with and without faith. You took my protection to ease your pain. My shielded wings comfort you during your moments of suffering while your life staggered across the earth... Your love and devotion is what made you strong. Every time your dreams were broken. You managed to build more dreams in their place. You called my name during your happiest and saddest moments. You always ran up to me when you fell behind. Your secrets became our private talks. The key to your heart was always unlocked. I was there during your trials and troubles of tribulations. We could not speak, but it was my light that would not allow you to get weak.

My voice=
Is this that dream of beauty? The one in the book my preacher spoke of. 
Yes! I remember it now it is called paradise. I felt this company once before, Lord.
Many times, I have forsaken this light, and still it never left my door.
I felt it the day I was born, and the day I became baptized in your holy name.
I felt this light before, can you explain it some more? 
Lord pleases clarify that day I fell down to my knees and accepted Jesus as my savior? 
Every day since, I felt as if you stood away and walked on by, allowing me to face my own failures’.  Was my life a waste in this impossible world?"

Gods voice~  
My child, this is the everlasting light you will feel every time your body is re-born onto a new road.  This light never left you. 
My sweet child did you not listen, Matthew *19:26* MY SON looked at them and said, "With man this is impossible, but with ME all things are possible. My child you were not searching for the right answers.

My voice= 
My Lord everyone told me if I prayed you would come. Did I not pray right?

Gods voice~ 
My child sometimes your heart asked for more than life itself, which left questions for someone else.  
At times how could I answer when you shunned heaven away from your eyes?
The obvious question is whether this is the final immersing of your souls disguises.

My voice= 
Lord, I have other questions to ask. 
What should I expect out of my personal sins? My testimonial sits in the palm of your hand.
My mind and my heart's inner core have been wicked since my adolescence days. 
How is it that I am in your promise land?

Gods voice~  
Getting right with me has brought you here!

My voice= 
One more question My Heavenly Father.
Can I see her?  I meant, could I see them? My Daughter, Mother's and Sisters~

by;PD


Details | Light Poem |

ECLIPSE

~ECLIPSE~

The shining light hides behind my eyes,
Comes in a super nova surprise
My spirit glides into the skies,
Spreading the perfect heat like the sunrise

I was like a diamond under the beauty of the ocean!
My current rides out with smooth motions,
Leaving a taste with intense emotion
Captured by my tides, sunk to my love potion

The sun sends my waves like a mirage of snow
I got the moon to favor upon my glow
With every star touching my inner soul
A glimpse of darkness in my light entwining with a massive flow

Blinded by my own ECLIPSE!
My sun & moon collide
Until the day we both touch lips

by;p.d.


Details | Light Poem |

FORGOTTEN TREASURE-

FORGOTTEN TREASURE

I found the fountain of youth.
When I stumbled across the forbidden garden.
Right smack in the middle,
Was what I thought to be a wishing well.
I tossed in a quarter!
Looking down with a puzzled face.
I peeked to see where it fell.
I leaned over and that's when I saw my vanity.
It was always there waiting for me.
The reflection in the water was my face.
In wonder I asked what this vision could be?
With one drop on my taste buds.
I knew I found the one true key.
The most beautiful thing that can set one free.
I reached in to touch the poetry inside me.

      S.K.A.T. POEMS

re-post- first poem on the soup


Details | Light Poem |

The Flame

PROLOGUE
The Flame, aflicker, licks and flays,
illuming evening’s negligees
With braided curls she swirls and sways,
and flits and floats in light ballets

APOLOGUE
A Flame, to conquer creeping fog,
flew dancing towards a random log
Her flight perplexed a leery frog
beside a silent somber bog

The Flame, a ripple, all alone
alit on leaves where birds had flown
The aching twigs began to moan
A rising breeze began to groan

The Flame arrayed an ancient oak 
with torrid tongues and veils of smoke
A beaver bailed, the dam had broke
The leery frog soon ceased to croak

The Flame uncoiled and lashed midair
and cauterized with utmost care
A cold coyote fled her lair,
left trapped behind... a torpid bear

The Flame, unfurled, went wild and grew,
enkindled cats and caribou
Remaining... not a residue,
as reeking vapors bade adieu

The Flame revealed her strength unshackled
Flora, fauna crisped and crackled
Fire Witches clucked and cackled
One more forest stripped and hackled...

EPILOGUE
The arsonists were well aware
the Flame would travel everywhere...
The weirs are gone, the land is bare,
and soon you’ll find a city there


Details | Light Poem |

Pass the Light House

~ CALYPSO ~

Odyssey of the open ocean 
Eclipsing the performance of Heaven's delight 
A beautiful name whispered along the night 
Calypso, enhanced with enchanted lullabies 
Sweet silver streams, dreamy epic diamond dreams
Serendipity falls in like mist, under the majestic marble moonlight
Calypso, you belong to;
--Sunsets of the secret sea. 
Mysterious-- many precious places to go, 
Calypso -free flowing, floating legend! 
Ride the beastliness breeze above the sea 
Whisper, Calypso come for me! 
Beautiful Comforting, Calypso Carry me! 

Reflections easily deliquesce into thin air
Sedating the open waters -Voyage- view 
Visionary Vessel above liquid level, 
as divine in spirits she sails. 
CA-LYP-SOO-- Nymph Nature Name 
Aquatic of belief-----------------------
CALYPSO, the journey of all journey's 
For all eternity-------------------------

by;pd


Details | Light Poem |

I Tried To Say







                                   On a cloud I wrote - I love you
                                       But the cloud blew away
                                    On a tree I wrote - I love you
                                  But someone cut down the tree
                          In the sand on the beach I wrote - I love you
                                 But the waves wiped them away
                                 In the wind, I cried - I love you
                      But the wind was too strong and no one could hear
                               In a small letter I wrote - I love you
                             But I never posted it - it was never sent
                                      But you know - I love you
                                    and my heart belongs to you




19.02.2013
A-L Andresen :)


Details | Light Poem |

Big Poo, Small Poo, Yellow Poo, Blue Poo

Big poo

        small poo

  yellow poo

           blue poo.


There are so many different kinds of poo,
it's amazing to see what passes through.


Square poo

               round poo

skinny poo

               fat poo.


Making poo-poo
is something everyone has to do.
Yes. It's true!
I do too!

Look at this poo all covered in nuts.
It stinks far worse than rotten fish guts.
Oh me! Oh my!
Oh me! Oh my!
It stinks so bad,
it caused that fly to die.

So some poo is quite smelly.
      Some poo looks like jelly.
Some poo is very icky,
      especially when it comes out sticky.

Some poo smells high.
       Some poo smells low.
Some poo slides out fast,
        and some poo comes out slow.


Big poo

        small poo

  yellow poo

           blue poo.

         

What kind of poo is your favourite to do?
Hard poo? 
        Soft poo? 
               Loud poo? 
                       Quiet poo?
Maybe an in-between sort of doo-doo?


The smelliest poo is made by the razor-backed Zonkzifferack.
Boy, when the razor-backed Zonkzifferack decides to drop a mighty stack....
....stand back! Yes. Please stand back!
There is nothing worse than the poo attack of a razor-backed Zonkzifferack.

Then there are the infamous Knack-a-croodle Crows.
Their poo smells like that of a Summer rose.
Not at all unpleasant to the nose.
Nothing wrong with those Knack-a-croodle Crows.

Look! Over here.
That poo is making a quick dash.
Oh! What a huge splash!

Now look at the poo over there.
It's all covered in hair.

There's also poo that floats like a boat,
or sinks very quickly in the drink.

Poo shaped liked cats,
poo shaped liked rats,
poo marching along wearing fat hats!


Remember children,
the next time there arrives a choo-choo,
making poo is something everyone has to do.
Nothing to be ashamed of through and through.

Whether it's new
             whether it's blue
or possibly a bit old
             even covered in mold....

....everyone has to make poo.

  It's true!

Even Ms. Brown, the teacher,
and Mr. Collins, the Preacher.
Your Mommy makes poo.
Your Granny makes poo.

      I do too!

                
                  Yes I do.










*R.I.P. Dr. Seuss

Written: January 28th, 2012


Details | Light Poem |

Heaven and Hell

.                         In the depth of despair
                         I wondered out where
                     The fog lay in fields of morn
                  Feeling forsaken and so forlorn
                   Regretting the day I was born.

                           And there where I sat
                               Looking back at
                    How life had brought me down
                 Images shattered... without a sound
                As they fell in pieces…to the ground

                                Lost in my mind
                                 I could not find
                            A reason to carry on
                So... there in the fog... of early dawn
                      I sang…my final  swan song

                Deeper and deeper and deeper I fell
                           Into... a bottomless well
                            Were I ceased to exist
                                In a feeling of bliss
                         When the fog... began to lift

                Higher and higher and higher…I flew
                     To the light of the burning fire
              Lightly touching…down on the ground
                    With the light of God... all around
                     In the midst...of angelic sounds

          In the most beautiful meadow…I’d ever seen
                    Of silver mist and emerald green
                       It lay before me…like a dream
                    With the path…where I had been
                        Evaporating…in a sunbeam

                               Somewhere between...
                           Heaven and Hell... on Earth


                                         ~~~

                            Author:  Elaine George


Details | Light Poem |

Moonlight Magic

The night was fickle as November
A time when all sleep in slumber;
A moist mist hangs over the river,
And a still cold moon hangs as a sliver.

A soft liquid light captures the glow,
Of the first few flakes of new fallen snow;
She shines her light on turret towers,
And tucks in bed the sleeping flowers.

Her crescent rides through clouds that fly,
Shining on wolves as they howl and cry.
Etching the transient phantoms of night,
As wings of an owl brush the dust of flight;

The crystalline light shines on lovers,
Yet pale and still the moonlight hovers;
To tip with silver the restless waves,
And on tombstones marking silent graves.

Cast your moonbeams, cast them down,
As you float in your silver crown;
And the ribbon of dawn will wrap your head,
And put your shining eye to bed.


A repost



Details | Light Poem |

IN THE MOOD


lately, i have been in this female mood for some kind of abandon, that which exhales the tigress fire out of my lungs digging the veins from a week's' routine movements pruned to the barest of a payroll’s droll… antiseptic cubicles dictate the rags of chlorine-infected lunch where rooms i strut around have nothing except robotic people, same rye snacks, basins of expired coffee and files of schizoid folio.. just outside, the sky coughs of gas masks rendering a paper bag of humanity to suffocate on clanking bones along claustrophobic subways: such a hemorrhaging day waiting for 5pm to hiss, halt ,and heave… i need to dance with the arms of a jazzy moon fondling my back and whistling the tunes of recklesness when all but the spirit lusts for is just a slice of raw breaths spiraling into tangy punches of rockstar blues... spare me the cranky claws of a friday so sore; i alight like a feline dressed in black lace with cabaret wings, feathers splattered on glitzy cobblestones... voluptuous legs hot and wild sniffing sultry lavender scent of friday night’s parade; and the band notes howl, free like me.
Favorite Poem Of Yours Contest of Giorgio V by nette onclaud


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