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See also: Best Famous Poems

Details | Strength Poem | |

Zuzuni on the badlands

Zuzuni on the badlands

Montana's muddy badlands spread for thirty seven miles
along a cleft of sandstone bed, eroded years before; 
the chestnut paced upon the bare of grass and well worn aisles
and I wore two new Navy Colts, of gauging forty four
beneath the noon light that defines but also eyes beguiles.

An anchorite, some years ago, upon the ridge of Grapes
where monasteries in the clouds are reaching out to God, 
I learned to draw and shoot amidst the fog's white waving drapes
and prayed til the time was ripe t' abandon this abode, 
cause solitude was molding deeds, constringing, thus, escapes.

I saw them waiting on the trail; three bandits stood apart: 
Coyote Chit, Cheesecake Labif and Mambo-Jumbo Crock
with cross-tied low their pistols stood, assumptive and upstart
bemocking fools who patented their e'er noetic block
that teachers, tho', could not explain; not even wise Descartes! 

My shots intended at their guns, the hoisted hammers broke;
I ordered them to start the dance that turns the clouds to rain
the land was in compelling need, as turf and plants evoked
the sympathy of Heavens that magnanimous ordained
the good ol' boys (and volunteers) to dance the rain's refrain.

Coyote was allowed to dance a prominent gavotte
meanwhile Labif's romantic soul preferred a marigold
but Crock's mazurka had untied the nimbus' Gordian knot
and rain began to pour upon those who the skies extolled
heroic men were meant to be, defining, thus, a blot.

Zuzuni, the Algonquin chief, had noticed this ordeal
and marveled at the outlaws forms, that caused the skies to rain
in order so, to buy the fools he offered a good deal
fourteen strong horses for each man, who danced to ascertain
that rains returned upon the slopes and also on the plains.

© 2014-10-15, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic heptameter)

Contest Name: Sketch a Character
Sponsor: Gautami Phookan
Deadline: 11/17/2014


Details | Strength Poem | |

Haiku 16: Blood Pain

           lightning punching down,
                     fast, blinding, loud – blood pain
                                a prayer of tears 







to all who have suffered violence


David Meade

Details | Strength Poem | |

God's Strength, God's Word, God's Love

 trijan refrain 

The heart half full means something’s wrong -
the Spirit’s flame burns low.
When emptied, broken, we are strong
refilled, and ready so -
God’s strength can fix a heart gone dull
our selfish contents He can cull.
       God’s strength restores
       God’s strength restores
each day to keep our mark on full. 

The heart half full means needs may go
unmet by God’s own grace.
We’re called to let our fellows know
that they can win this race.
God’s Word abounds with help each day,
it must be read to find the Way.
       God’s Word abounds
       God’s Word abounds
to fill the empty hearts who stray.

The heart half full calls us to prayer,
it’s time to take a break.
Engaged with work, no time to spare
another’s thirst to slake.
God’s love pours forth when we look up
and ask for wisdom in our cup. 
       God’s love pours forth
       God’s love pours forth
enough to share, our neighbors sup.

written by Reason A. Poteet
posted September 19, 2014
for Giorgio's Structured Verse, Iambic Forms II contest

**I realize this is a combination of iambic verse in tetrameter, trimeter, and dimeter but that is the requirement for a trijan refrain, a variable line length. If it does not meet the rules of your contest, I will understand.

Details | Strength Poem | |

The Ballad Of Poet Destroyer

"The Ballad of The Poet Destroyer"

Destroyer, and creator of words
Flying high on the wings of a bird
Drowning every inch, by foes and friends
Where has she gone?

When push came to shove, 
She continued standing tall after every fall
Falling fearlessly like the falling star tapping the lips
Topaz, a star in the eyes of envy the enemy
A dreamlike, miracle mirage, fresh like mints
No reason in remembering yesterday's sad song
Slightly she moves in with the new barren breeze,
A maze in disguise, no way out
A feeling so good, you hate
The naming of names, that won't escape you 
Your eyes of lust, imitate PD's sweetest touch, 
Destruction, with pleasure
A new day, killed by the morning after pill
Everyone gone, shadows remain
Where, has she gone? 

A feeling so good, you hate
Your unmatched precision, wobbles your stability
She'll give you a taste of rays, despite your low self-esteem 
Happiness turns to sadness, making every jaw drop
Where has she gone?

She's not the painting of Mona Lisa, 
However, it does not stop you from spending your cash-
-To see a picture painted with a frown,
Look what you've done!

Never to return, what was, what is!
You say you love her, then you run
A dry barrel, an empty gun, 
Never will the enemy be number one, 
Nothing but a shadow, a rug for PD,
Like a dream, her imagery is haunting
Love her or leave her, her pen name remains
Poet O' Poet where are you?

Advocate of smiles, enjoy her copy paste kiss
Trace her silhouette found in the midnight mist
Blindfolded, indulge by the wind
Breaking, the Texas Hold EM' Hand
Her freedom, her land
Gone insane, she laughs, 
Untouched she remains, she lives
Inside of me

By; PD

Details | Strength Poem | |

Soul mates solace

When my final shadows cling on desperately
Where I fight formidable battles
to merely hold the light
I send you loving vibrations
and soul sustenance
Deep from the cathedral
of one heart to another
where today no choirs sing
nor symphonies play
Yet it is here where we meet
in spiritual solace
here to surrender 
and exchange inestimable treasures
recollecting memories 
like unopened letters
Galaxies are stretched
over chronicles of shared history
Nebula birthing stars
will be exposed
in forth-coming conversations
bringing short-lived fulfillment to you
Hungry to feast
now will be the time
to approve your blood art vision
and with my own haunting surrender
as dappled shades ink stain your chest
I will reside with you and share, mesmerised 
pens - by branding
as this will be your written reams to me
your artist's pallet or brushed canvas
no need for words
and yet creating
mysterious magical moments
Bitter-sweet the music
that dances taut guitar strings
but now blood approved
please go kick your heel up
return to your laughter
and ride on the breeze
for not all are lost
change not
for I am with you always
to love, listen and comfort as one
with you in me and I in you
as masterpiece

Details | Strength Poem | |

The Woman

See the woman.

See the face behind its age.
See the beauty of her form.
See the way her way becomes her.
See past her once taught skin, as it was 
when it enflamed many a man.

See the way she holds her head;
the tilt of her neck, the ease
of her being.
See the strength that binds her jaw,
unrelenting in its flex.

See her hurt displayed, as shadows
fall like night upon the earth,
eager for rest and resolution -
retribution,
for the one she could not save.

See her darkness. See it very well.
See it shatter like glass, glinting,
when she giggles like a girl.
See her shine.
As the shades of dark days rise,

See the years that grace her eyes,
like rays of her own sun
exponentially shining forth.
See forgiveness in her patient hands
as they weave memories with a touch.

See the breadth of her breasts,
unapologetic,
for they have quenched her children’s hunger,
soothed their frantic cries,
and became the safe haven for her beloved.

See her empty, scarred abdomen –
round and perfect in its imperfections,
once holding the essence of all things;
carrying creation within –
see the divine home of God.

See the innocent baby,
the impetuous youth,
the voluptuous woman,
the devoted wife,
the selfless mother.

See the wisdom of the grandmother –
the epitome of every moment lived
for someone else, and the realization 
of the circle.
Hear the acceptance in her sigh.
See the gifts she has given –

see the woman!
See the goddess!
The beginning and the end!
See the infinite that bares the name,
Woman!

See her for all that she is and isn’t.
Smell her scent and know you are home.
Taste the strength of her words on your tongue.
Hear her experiences like your own.
To touch her soul is to touch perpetuity!

See her face in your mirror.

See the tears that fall proudly
upon the woman you’ve become,
and hope yet to become
                          in time;

when you have lived through all that has been 
set before you –
tasted each woman’s tears as if they were your own.
When you enter that perfect union,
timeless ancestry;
when you become,
when you come
full circle;

you will see yourself in all things, 
and your journey, will see you back

home.



*Reposted for Chris's Get Your Rebel On, Contest! This was written with my Beautiful 
Grandmother in mind. She saved my life in more ways than one. love you, Gran. This one's 
for you. (and every woman, and woman lover, here)

Details | Strength Poem | |

Please Give me Wings

Wash my heart and make it clean
Remove the grime from where it's been 

Take my idle hands make them yours
Use them to open holy doors

My cracked lips long to sing your praise
Be my Misto the rest of my days

Guide my calloused feet along your path
I wish to know Love and not your wrath

Take my arms place them around the poor
Help me realize I need less not more

Plant your precious thoughts in my mind
Change me from selfish make me kind

let me see your face with my eyes
Remove my ignorance make me wise

Apart from you I cannot be whole
Thank you for this reconditioned soul

One day my life will end I know that's true
Please give me wings so I can fly to you

Details | Strength Poem | |

the worm poem

A Certain Kind Of Death 

She was in love 
Their expression of it 
Was the perfection of it 
The way they shared  
Was beyond compare
Today is the culmination 
Of their dedication 
Today she is pregnant 
Overwhelmed overjoyed
Her heart sings 
Then the phone rings 

At the hospital 
Next to her dead husband 
How is the possible 
Why did this happen 
Grief stricken
But not heartbroken 
She still had a piece of him 
She had to be strong 
For their child
Even though he was gone 
She had to march on 

Pain and spot bleeding
Getting ready for birthing 
No rhyme or reason 
For complication 
She took care of her body
Took care of her baby 
Its two months too soon
For the child to leave the womb 
Lacking strength and power 
It only lived an hour 
She could only scream  

No strength to go through the motions
She hasn’t seen family or friends
Trying to find something within
nothing left to give 
No reason to live 
she is dead inside
Her memories fading away
She’s doesn’t want to lose them
Tries to hold on to them 
She racks her brain all day 
Trying to find a way 
To keep them fresh and vibrant 

It came to her at a convenience store
A fisherman was buying some worms
She saw them wiggling 
Saw them moving 
So she bought all they had  
She knew she had gone mad
But she didn’t want to be alone
Lying in her bed 
Longing for the dead 
She put the worms in her womb 
And pretended her baby was alive

Her days where filled with joy 
They where going to have a boy
Her husband would stay home
He could finally feel it kick and move 
His happiness was there only wish
They would love and cherish 
Every moment of everyday 
A happy family 
For everyone to envy 
She wasn’t alone anymore  
She was no longer ripped and torn 

Her evenings were horrifying 
She wasn’t just taking worms out
She was reliving her baby dying 
She never once heard it crying 
Never got to hold it in her arms 
Failed to keep it from harm 
She was useless 
She was helpless
She should have died too 
She should have kept inside her
Even if it had killed her 

She decided one day 
To keep her baby 
Decided not let the doctors take it away
She started to feel some pain 
She decided on a name 
She can barely move now 
She would keep David safe somehow
She’s constantly bleeding and convulsing 
She can feel his life pulsating 
She gave birth before she died 
And David was the only one that cried

Details | Strength Poem | |

For Lion Hearts Only

You're The One I think of the most.You know and carry unconditional love.You have experienced the pains of pains.When You're not in My presence to walk with Me;My mind carries You and holds You deep in thought.The pureness that grows from Good devours The Evil...The walls of Your Heart fall down and open into fields No One Else can possible reach,love,know,or roam.The Wisdom of Your Fields develop and rules Valleys.Valleys expand  into Vast Kingdoms filled with Knowledge,Power,and Intelligence.Across The Horizon lies The Kingdom of Heaven in boundaries of grey only a Lion Heart can visualize.The Strength of a Castle is built by Your Own two hands held by Fate.Only a Lion Heart has the keys to open the doors and the ability to cross through the rooms furnished with Destiny untold.A candle is lit.You pace the rhythm with a steady beat.Your Heart restores The Eternal Light with-in.Truth becomes factual.The Freest of Facts unfold into Beautiful Gardens. Among The Gardens indescribable Rays of Hope appear with Faith as Your Spirit.Your Spirit became The Reality of Freedom enhanced by Courage.The Courage of A Lion Heart that holds Forgiveness for All.Could it be possible that You have A Lion Heart? Respect,Understanding,Love;that is Everlasting Serenity. I often wonder where this comes from as an Orion of ringing appears undetectable in Ones Ears... The Lion roars and The Angels sing softly with-in.May Your Gift of Acceptance Shine-On...From A Creator;to an Angel,better yet A Lion Heart.Walk among The Winners just for Today... 
                                  By Charlene L. Wilcox      10-13-2014

Details | Strength Poem | |

A Rose In The Rain

A Rose In The Rain One might question when they see a flower in the rain Will that flower begin to wilt on the ground on which it remains? Not a rose, a rose is a sign of strength and beauty within For its petals were created of thick and toughened skin If you do happen to see petals of a rose flying through a breeze It is because it chose for its journey to no longer be there Instead, it shall exist in a rebirth within a different place and atmosphere Thus never drowning in a rain that only quenches its eternal seed A rose in the rain will never wilt against puddles from the sky It will not fall and surrender to reflections of when it will die It will expand its petals to reach the raindrops within their needing thirst That will keep a remnant of its beautiful existence here, upon the earth.

Details | Strength Poem | |

Dreams

                               Dreams bring hope

                               Hope gives courage 

                            Courage builds strength

                      Strength prompts determination 

                            Determination  helps us

                                 Fulfill our dreams


Written by Brenda Meier-Hans 
Entered in Poet Destroyer's 
Contest: Whatever

Details | Strength Poem | |

Senryu Collection

STRUGGLE

                                  Struggle to survive.
                            The world will eat you alive.
                               Bite back or be dinner.
______________________________________________________________

INSIGNIFICANT

                                  Forgotten eyes see
                            The shadows are no longer
                                       Insignificant
______________________________________________________________
WORLDLY WILDERNESS

                                   a concrete playground
                                   Wickedness wilderness
                                breathe, there is no sound

______________________________________________________________

RELEASE

                                  Feed me all my fears
                                  I am too afraid to cry
                                 Release my inner child.

______________________________________________________________

STRENGTH

                                     I make the pain stop
                                    Powerful determination
                                       I will not give up.
______________________________________________________________

DUALITY

                                     The skin of the soul
                                     Masculine or feminine
                                            See duality.
______________________________________________________________



Date 07-29-2014

Details | Strength Poem | |

She Hulk

When I was a child I only ever wanted to be strong.
I wanted to be able to compete with the boys
and when I foot raced them at recess I won every time.
They called me ‘She Hulk’ because of my muscular frame
and from the way I only ever wore soccer t-shirts and sweat pants.
After that nickname was implanted into my brain like a growing weed,
I’ve only ever wanted to be feminine.
I started wearing skirts and dresses 
and in middle school they shrieked at the site of my makeup and done up hair.
But that weed inside of my mind only grew, and grew, and grew
until I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part anorexic and two parts lonely,
because I thought that the definition of feminine began with the word frail.
No one ever realizes how greatly words affect us,
how a simple nickname can turn a pretty girl into a skeleton.
I stood at five foot two weighing seventy nine pounds,
so cold and frozen,
yet I still considered myself a ‘She Hulk.’
You could see my ribcage through my t-shirt
and my spinal cord protruded loudly through my weathered skin,
as if somehow my bones were dirty knives
just trying to cut through the flesh of judgment.
As I grew older I became the girl that was never enough.
Not good enough to speak poetry.
Not good enough to lay paint on a canvas.
Not good enough.
Not tall enough.
Not big enough boobs for them.
Not primped to perfection.
Not undeniably straight.
Not smart enough.
Not dumb enough.
Not ditsy enough.
Not cool enough or fun enough.
And I began to believe, too, that I wasn’t enough.
I never told my mother that I had been in madly in love with a girl.
I never told anyone about the night we first kissed 
because I was too vulnerable for the judgment.
And parents always justify saying that ‘kids will be kids’
But when we are kids our brains are still growing
and the smallest of seeds that get planted will one day bloom
into one giant regret,
will one day affect the choices that we make,
will one day influence us about the clothes that we wear,
will one day shape us into the person who we thought we would never be.
I only ever wanted to be strong,
and as a child I thought strength was only about being able
to lift a bar stool above your head.
I thought that strength was only about being able
to beat the boys in bare foot running races.
I was told that strength was something only
a man could have.
But as I’ve grown older I’ve realized that strength
isn’t about muscle at all,
but it’s about weakness,
and the ability to overcome the social anxiousness.
It’s about carrying around a lifetime of baggage
on your broken back
because the ones that kicked you when you were down
are going to be the ones that were  ultimately wrong.
I thought that the definition of woman 
began with the word disappointment.
And I became a mixed drink cocktail
with one part freedom
and two parts Sailor Jerry
because every girl needs a stiff drink once and awhile.
We are not disappointments.
We will never be the ones who gave up on hope.
We will never be the ones who gave up on each other,
or god,
or our mothers.
We will always be enough;
enough for the ones who shunned us 
enough for the ones that cursed us
enough for the ones the hurt us
and destroyed us
and beat us when we were covered in bruises.
But you see, bruises fade
and the scars of our flesh are only stories
things we have overcame
and there are things out there that we will overcome.
When I was a child, I only ever wanted to be strong.
I hid my vulnerability.
I hid the parts of me that were true.
I never told my mother about my girlfriend
because I was afraid she wouldn’t understand,
kind of like all those people who never understood 
just how much words effect us. 
I can’t say that I can beat the boys at foot races anymore,
because, well, I smoke cigarettes now.
And I can’t say that the nickname of my childhood didn’t affect me.
But I take that name now and embrace it.
Because I am strong.
I am the ‘she hulk’.
I am a mixed drink cocktail
with three parts greatful.

Details | Strength Poem | |

The Promise's Beginning

Somewhere in midnight’s nocturnal hallways
As the chill settles down with starlight
While the world stands silent in waiting
There abiding with his flock walks the shepherd
Hopeful in thought and yet weary of foot
He moves his charges through the bite of night

His hope in the coming dawn lifts his burdens
Filling his minds eye with warm musings of tomorrow
In tones they beseech the day and challenge darkness
But through this constant cycle of shine and shadow
The guardian of the flock stands steadfast and waits

The promise begins as His voice appears cherubically 
Falling in fear and praying for strength of faith
The radiance in the sky softens ever slightly
Speaking of the vow and announcing the messiah
Who brings the world a love and a hope yet tasted

Tremulous breath’s as the promise is spoken
Awing the greatness with a loving and respectful fear
Silent in belief beholding the coming miracle
He stirs the somnolent flock down the slopes
To bestow upon all the gift of this divine hour

His breath brittle’s the final icy moments of dusk
He labors the trail with renewed strength of heart
Proclaiming hushed gratitude within every step
A beacon of brilliance converges in the heavens
Beckoning his faithful west toward little Bethlehem

Dropping to his knees his face wetted in thanks
Finally understanding what is gripping his soul
He sees the precarious pathway laid before him
Though he has journeyed into the unknown before
None had brought with it a promise so precious




Details | Strength Poem | |

Freedom

This place, inside, where all my feelings keep.
That lies somewhere between my heart and soul.
Should I, the guardian of my fortress seek,
Protection from those, who would see them stole.
So many times have you this bastion breeched,
With scant regard for all the dangers posed.
That my hopes and dreams should not be reached,
By eyes that only wish my heart exposed.
These inmates with their liberty restrained.
That strive against their shackles and their chains.
Am I their jailor too cautious to be blamed,
To free them no matter what their claims.
And if freeing them should reveal my heart,
I might be also freed.. my life to start

Details | Strength Poem | |

Speak up

When you take a stand and say what you choose,
Without hesitation, or being confused,
Not holding a fear of what others may say,
But to say what you mean in every way,
It liberates your soul, by setting you free,
No longer a prisoner of insecurity,
But a teacher to others who sometimes hold back,
By seeing in you the strength that they lack,
Releases their fears and doubts that they hold,
And helps them now see its ok to speak bold,
Just do it with dignity, kindness and love,
Give all of your fears to our friends up above,
Don’t compromise yourself to collude with the rest,
Speak truth in your words and remain at your best,
If others don’t like the control that they lack,
Because of your strength to speak truth and talk back,
Let that be their issue, don’t lose who you are,
Keep making that stand and you’re sure to go far.
We all have the right to express our beliefs,
Our ideas, opinions, happiness and grief,
But we must allow others to do just the same,
Respect them and their wishes without drama and pain.
To allow them to shame you or belittle your voice,
Says “its ok I don’t mind” like you don’t have a choice,
And the more you keep quiet, the more they control,
Giving up who YOU are so that THEY can feel whole.
It just doesn’t make sense to allow this to be,
I'm no better then you, but your no better then me.
So keep trying hard to find that strength deep within,
And Let old habits go, so new ones can begin.
 

Details | Strength Poem | |

Immortal Adoration

pure…pristine…unblemished
the strength of this love could make angels cry
bowing low and closing their wings
                                  (in reverence)
 because its too powerful to face 
those mesmerizing eyes of adulation

to capture it and kiss its sensuous lips 
impossible (illusive as it navigates rare skies)
for it is wild and tossed with the hues 
of rainbow streams and flies with the eagles
untamed up where hawks carry dreams

up above us mere humans 
beyond our reach it flourishes….
(coals of fire raging into the night)
riding wind and gathers up rain
and collects sunshine in its perfect skin
soaring free and flowing fiercely 
feral and tempestuous 
it is the definition of eternity

 there could be no comparison
Romeo and Juliet could not compete
and it will go down in history
unrivaled….shouted in the streets
rooftops will hear of this love

pure…pristine…unblemished
the strength of this love could make angels cry
bowing low and closing their wings
                                    (in reverence)
because its too powerful to face 
those mesmerizing eyes of adulation

Details | Strength Poem | |

Silver lining

 No words can blunt the pain of a broken heart
Though dulcet melodies may sooth it for a while
Much more than tears dost thou impart
With time  once more to see your golden smile

How then can thee  revive thy  broken dreams
Doth sorrow's weight besiege thy soul?
Lo, the weight is lighter than it seems
With time the silver lining gleams

But who can mend a broken soul?
What unseen force can repair the inner core
He who dwells on high can make you whole
Like diamonds,  your light will shine once more

And when the silence is broken by thy thoughts
Your spirit will rise above the dreams you sought

Details | Strength Poem | |

In Celebration of REAL Men

The strength of a man is not determined
By his muscles or his brawn
It is determined by his strength
To admit when he is wrong

The wisdom of a man
Is not determined by myriad facts
It is determined by the way
That wisdom is seen in his acts

The integrity of a man
Is not determined by his claim
It is determined by the reputation
That follows around his name

The love of a man
Is not determined by mere time
It is determined by each moment
That he makes you feel sublime

The sexual prowess of a man
Is not related to his size
It’s how he satisfies your needs
And what you see there in his eyes

The chivalry of a man
Is not determined by his manhood
It is determined by how he nurtures
You to revel in womanhood

The passion of a man
Is not his need to self-gratify
It is determined by how often
He makes the effort to satisfy

The wealth of a man
Is not seen in monetary things
But by those things that are free
That to your life he brings

The age of a man
Is not seen in the age life deals
But by the strength of his heart
And how young he makes you feel

The sweetness of a man
Is not determined by what he says
But it's determined by the fact
That you want him more each day

The humour of a man
Is not determined by a hurtful tease
It’s determined by how your laugh
When his words your heart please

A man is an awesome creation
That I’m determined to venerate
As Eve’s daughter much in love
This male wonder I celebrate.

Eileen Manassian Ghali

Details | Strength Poem | |

A LITTLE STORY

Weathered by the weather and raged by the storms,
Like a river stone it has only smoothed my rough edge.
I have seen life from both sides of wealth and poverty,
On top of the highest tower, I have looked over the ledge.

And it has made me stronger, kinder and free,
It has molded me into this person that I am proud to be.

Standing in line at the soup kitchen, waiting for a meal.
Surrounded by older age that have lived a life that was real,
Their experiences were amazing, until the hardship weighed down,
When the economy gets shaken, some are left on the ground.

And it has made me stronger, empathetic and kind.
I looked forward to the meals and the honest people I find.

When an at home delivery driver was in desperate need.
I thought to myself, what a way to help through a good deed.
I didn't have a car, neither the money to pay for a reliable one.
But I went to the dealership anyway, and you wouldn't guess what I done.
I exchanged with him some advertising in exchange for a van,
He promised me free of charge repairs, now I think that I can!
I signed the papers and became a food delivery volunteer.
I work hard for what I do, I drive, but I let God steer.

And it has made me stronger, respected and a friend,
I look forward to giving to others until the very end.


For Contest: My Strengths
Date : October 23,2014

Details | Strength Poem | |

A strength weakening

When it just seems that life means no more,
When it just seems you cant take another step,
You just wish you could embrace a lion’s roar
You just wish you could get some help.

Sometimes it seems so wrong to do what you like
Sometimes it really feels guilty to be who you are
You just wish to ride on a stallion’s might
You just wish you were not where your heart is marred 

The world is cruel just to live in
Which makes the fantasy a better place
But nay, you cant lie to your within
So leave the battlefield with grace!

Sometimes it seems so hard to move on
Sometimes it seems so tough to pursue
You wish that all your troubles were gone
And you wish to begin a life anew…

You reach out to an untouchable dream
Impossible to grasp or to even feel
Sometimes the end of path is so dim
And it seems the way out is concealed

When you need something to guide you right
Sometimes you wish there is a guiding star
You search high and low for a star so bright
But it is impossible in times of war. 

At times you have a battle with your within
And there comes a time when you won none
You find you’re weakened and your pride limping
You wish there is someone to hold on…

Even if you dive for the treasures of the sea
Even if tears of blood you would cry, 
Destiny and fate shall not change any,
Even if the whole world you choose to defy.

Sometimes it seems your past is haunting
With your inner self you are battling
But each second you are weakening
And in the battle you’re losing…

A superior power comes into sight,
Destroying all form of threats,
With His might He would fight
With His love He would protect.

Once again the strength is your own,
And your pride is in control
Once again you are not alone
Knowing that you He shall hold. 

Hard as it is to endure the tortures of life
Finally you’re no longer left in the cold,
Slowly as you are starting to revive, 
Gaining strength as the mysteries unfold

Details | Strength Poem | |

IMPOSSIBLES ARE POSSIBLE

IMPOSSIBLES ARE POSSIBLE

T h  o  u  s  a  n d  steps, 
    I...must boldly take!
Should I stumble, again
  I  will not succumb.  I must take..
    To climb heaven's gate, I must make.

  to how long, Oh how long...
     minutes, hours,
           days or years?
   I am waiting. Waiting on you, Lord..
I will stand firm over flowing storms blow.
    I am waiting. Waiting on you, Lord..
   I am hopeful... I am waiting on You, Lord.
    
My soulful heaven intercourse ....
     I pray: "My God, Oh God, guide me to increase"
As raw river rumblings, the appealing gust chimes my peace.

 Winters' biting cold
         Springs' vibrating show glow
    Summers' chanting heat..
        Autumns' bell rings both life and death 
All the season changes waves both smiles and tears
    Still, I am kneeling down clasping both my hands tight
        Trusting You that soon  [God, very soon]
 Your grace is there to bend and mend
     always, always You are at hand...

Salty crystals may glisten through my eyes
    Arms, I will raise high - my whole surrender cry
I believe. Patiently waiting for You `~
    joy, success and peace unto my life, You'll drew...

Whenever temptations lure me frightening my heart 
   stirring, shaking and shattering even my mind...
     Then notes from song's music fade
      Still, I will try... [God, I will try]not to be  fully swayed
 I know...  Your Breathing words are the sweetest..
    Your Living Words: my double edge sword
Everyday to be experienced and explored not ignored.

Past shadows-
  They are foes my God
     Causing shame and cross
Hungry gnawing lions surrounding me
  They are all ready. Ready. Ready to consume the fire in me.
       but, Through You..Through You Oh God.  [I believe.]
My poor tempest-tossed soul will be save
      for sins iron chains, I will break free then rise.

So long as I have breathe, my mouth shall fret
With You Oh God,  with You,  all things are possible...

***Inspired by Psalm
40:

1 I waited patiently for the Lord;   
  he turned to me and heard my cry.
2 He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
  out of the mud and mire; he set my
feet on a rock and gave me a firm place to stand.
3 He put a new song. in my mouth,
  a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear the Lord
  and put their trust in him

And Matthew 19:26 - With man this is impossible but with God all things are 
possible..

© O. E. Guillermo
10:09 AM
AUGUST 16, 2014

Sponsor	Regina Riddle
Contest Name	Bible -
Placed 2nd






Details | Strength Poem | |

CHARIOT OF FIRE a collab with PAUL CALLUS

CHARIOT OF FIRE I stand in silence and behold the sight, staring in wonder, waiting for thunder. A chariot of fire travels through the night. The white-winged horses gallop in full flight pulling at the reins; flowing are their manes I stand in silence and behold the sight. Where are they going? There’s a shining light leading all the way, so they will not stray. A chariot of fire travels through the night amidst the heaven where in pure delight resides the Master, the sweetest lover, I stand in silence and behold the sight; Blessings whisked to amble slowly with plight; heartbeats race to sway, courage on display. A chariot of fire travels through the night armoured by God’s spirit. They ride like knights fearless from pain; victory, their peak gain. I stand in silence and behold the sight; a chariot of fire travels through the night. ©P.A. Callus and O. E. Guillermo Written last 5:07 pm, November 17, 2014

Details | Strength Poem | |

WHERE FROZEN EMBERS STILL BURN

WHERE FROZEN EMBERS STILL BURN

When will periwinkle dreams entwine my lifesong
  for prickly winter has blanket me? [Long, ah! so long...]
Has bloody ferns swirl then froze me as falling snow
  for acrid critiques cold cloud? [T'was wrong, Oh so wrong...]

Doubts and worries weaken more my weary feet.
  But teeming catalysts from a passionate bearing God
    activate talent embers, once frozen, to fleet--
Spelling: "TRUST, GO AND START!", smolder revive from above.

Bearing a faith anew, I spread my wings to fly;
  walking even over blitz agonizing talk for pry.
Cracking myself from iceberg of fears--
  instead, twining myself to God's glory, a clear dear!

Braiding faith and hardwork in cornerstone steel,
  spirits afire hope that guards, a powerful seal.
Unfolding gifts from long frozen hearts' embers burn.
  mightily restored through heaven's love way turn...

(c)
10:16am
August 22, 2014

***inspired by verses:
Matthew 10:26 -
Therefore do not fear them. For there is nothing covered that will not be 
revealed, and hidden that will not be known. 

2 Corinthians 4:7-11
But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing
power is from God and not from us. We are hard pressed on every side, but not
crushed; perplexed, but not in despair; persecuted, but not abandoned; struck
down, but not destroyed. We always carry around in our body the death of
Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. For we who
are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus' sake, so that his life 
may be revealed in our mortal body.

Details | Strength Poem | |

RWANDA'S BURIED CALVARY

A hundred days of tomb-like silence; a hundred days of blind eyes and deaf ears; a hundred days of wooden hearts and cruel minds. This was long ago, but still its stigma is there. Years may pass but MY LIFE will never be the same again.

I was barely a woman then, carefree and with smiles touching my lips. I was enjoying the view of the sun shining over the tranquil green  hills  of Rwanda. But, in a blink of an eye, the beautiful calm scenery I enjoyed was tinged by some shouts I heard from a river nearby. Curious, I went to see. Meters away, I saw a happy huge man wielding a machete butchering another man on the ground. Before he could see me, I turned round and ran.

Ran as fast as I could!When I reached our home, immediately, I was told by my father to keep on running. To run to a Hutu Minister miles away from our home. To run and be safe. To run and beg for my life's safety. Paper white and shuddering I ran and ran until I arrived at the Minister’s house. Scared but kind enough, the minister kept me together with seven other girls. 

We were placed then in a remote bathroom in the house. 

A bathroom three feet by four feet in size.  A bathroom where the other girls and I hid. A bathroom where in the next days, we alternately sat, stood and stretched. A bathroom that served as our refuge in times when the killers {Hutus} stormed inside the house. A bathroom where we ate beans and insects just to stay alive.

On the radio, we, Tutsis, heard our names  being announced as needed to be killed, too. There was a window where we could peek  and see people running and running. Clubs and spears a terrifying rain brutally killing men and women alike. Screams and cries a regular ringing requiem outside. Intense. Intense. Intense were the surroundings, I remember. In the bathroom, we maintained silence as if no one there. For at any time, we could be caught… Raped… Killed. And we knew back then that, the green hilly Rwanda was turned into a garden of bloody wails and tortured tales.

Then one day some troops came, stopping the genocide and finally we planned our liberation day! 

It was through courage. Cunning. Prayers that we are alive. Rwanda, may seem peaceful now, but for us victims and survivors, our life will never be the same again. I can't seek revenge for our loss: families, property and the trauma I experienced for it would only prolong my Calvary. I would rather forgive and hope that such genocide will never happen again.

© 
Oct. 11, 2014
*Rwandian