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Best Poems Written by William Kinard

Below are the all-time best William Kinard poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Cross the Bridge

She is consumed from the fires of her afflictions 
Riddling her mind with chaotic tunes and depictions. 
Following the signs to new inscriptions 
She ventures through this valley gorge 
Coming to the river Styx with no fiord 
While swimming in these waters; only strength restored. 
She cries out, "Ganga your rapids, too great, why must you imprison me? 
Is there a way to to cross and eat from the Manna Tree? 
Is there a way to sing again and fulfill my destiny?" 
Upon no answer, her only hope, to await the 7th Trumpet to sound 
When all the earth will feel the pulse of the ground. 
And in time the music will shake these rocks from yonder mountain ridge 
Fall into these stolen waters and build her a bridge. 
Forget the Jolly Roger of her past 
Into the eternal flame she will cast. 
Never to sail that ship again 
Repent for those days of habitual sin. 
While resting in the shade of the Manna Tree 
She shall learn the wisdom of the Final Fantasy.

Details | William Kinard Poem

Sacred Light

Taste the cup of Sacred Light,
Let it fill all your darkness
Until you sparkle from each pore of your skin.
Then you can be a beacon to all those
Who have lost their way.
So taste the cup of Sacred Light
And though darkness falls on the land, 
Within you is the Light of Day.

Details | William Kinard Poem

A Timeless Tale

Let me tell you a timeless tale of no tomorrow
A tale of time of constant sorrow
And lonely rhymes no one follows.
A sip of fear he now swallows.
Where shall he go or even wallow
If stumbling on blocks of yesterday's sleepy hollow.

Can he wake up from yesterday's dream?
Now angels of the night shine him a moonbeam
And write him a riddle he cannot solve.
Keep him occupied so he can evolve
To play a fiddle of a tune he will resolve.
Now listen to a timeless tale he has been called.

Details | William Kinard Poem

The Wanderer

Many moons have fallen 
Since the captain set sail.
This relentless wanderer,
Who searches the world
To uncover a timeless tale.
Rove though he must,
Persevere through time,
Across a perilous sea,
For more than aged wine.

“Let it go, tis the key,”
Whispers the wind amidst the billows.
But can he unlock the truth,
Or trust echoes from the past,
While the tempest blows strong
Whipping wildly upon his mast.

“Is it too late?” he cries to Aeolus,
”To unveil the true passage, 
Tame the internal flame,
Decipher the hidden message?”

Alas! Breathe out the impending woe, 
Unsheathe the burning desire,
Unchain the unending sorrow,
And untie this soul on fire.

Now let it go; let it be 
And let this night unfurl 
A mystery of a heart’s plea,
Which has searched the world
To one day, once again, be free.

Details | William Kinard Poem

The Path Home

Paths to follow, or roads to lead, where shall I go?
Walking on thorns I begin to bleed, how could I know?
In the beginning or near the end, what shall it be?
Found strength in a forest of the sun, I begin to see
The light which is before me is known from the shadows I left behind
Within the walls of a tainted jungle there is an entangled vine.
When I unraveled the mystery I tasted a pure wine.
Now into the path to follow or road to lead, where shall I go?
Lost in a labyrinth time forgot, how could I know?

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Let Us Sail

Offer me your hand that I may reach you
Offer me your dream that I may see it with you
Offer me your life because I have none without you
Be my compass because I have lost my way
Be my umbrella amidst this tempest's rain
A queen you are and with me you shall forever reign.

Details | William Kinard Poem

Tale From the Moon

The reflection of the sun
Gives light to the moon
Through the twilight of time
Shall he heal his wound
No more the world in his head
Within its walls he was dead.
 
So fall into the swells of his imagination 
And swim with the waves from his creation
Along with whipping winds of persuasion
Blowing swifly across a magic sea
Sail away with him to this isle of the free.
 
Upon arrival so he found 
No cherubs playing music
No ripping tides, not even a sound
Only the flying chariot from his dream
And above the moon holding her crown
With all his heart, he spoke to her from a far
She said, "I hear your fervent cry
Oh warrior poet take your dream and fly
I give you the map that has charted each star
Showing Zion, in the land of "Leo del Mar."
 
So he took the chariot from his dream
Flying into the cosmos, not a moment too soon 
Along with slipping reigns of sanity
And only aid of light from the moon  
Shall he ride through storms of unsurity
And with the twilight of time heal his wound 
The destination marks a new theme
Where he sings new arias upon a lucent lune
"Remember me with each falling moonbeam;
Forget your sorrows with each passing tune."

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The Dreamers

Where do the dreams of the night take us
When poets falls asleep, oh moon tell us where?
And no more tears shall we weep when we are there
How do dreams fade in the setting sun of our nightmares?
How does the seam open from the clothes of our cares?
How do we get back all we lost from the wars of our fears?
How do we love again and at what cost from the song of our tears?

Truley we have beseeched the one
Beyond the valley of the setting sun 
Flew past the dark arrows of the archer
Only to be poisoned by the dark arrows of the scorpion
And found no antidote in the belly of the sky's fishes.
Now every night on our knees we pray for our dream's wishes.

Details | William Kinard Poem

My Way Home

Paths to follow, or roads to lead, where shall I go?

Walking on thorns I begin to bleed, how could I know?

Tis the beginning or near the end, what shall it be?

When I came to a forest of the sun, I begin to see

The light which is given from the One, I begin to plea.

Mercy was given in the valley of the sun, I began to be

The light which is before me, known from the shadows I left behind.

 

When I came into the walls of a tainted jungle there is a tangled vine.

When I unraveled the mystery of the time, I tasted a pure wine

And she has put me in a daze.

Why, oh why must I still gaze

Into the eyes of time's forgetful maze,

Of these paths to follow or roads to lead, where shall I go?

……..???

Walk on clouds of sorrow… I no longer bleed…I found the way home!

Details | William Kinard Poem

The Sweetest Grape

Though your dreams may float on the edge of time
Try to catch them beyond the bells of an horizon's chime.
Hold on to the tail of it's melody 
With aid of the whispering wind
Who quietly utters a new mind to bend.
Now pick the sweetest grape from an entangled vine
Which lies at the end of a fragile limb
You sip the finest wine.
And though you had the chance to fall
See the magic within us after all.

Now you hear the prophets cry out, 
"Only open my book in the dark of night
And read my pages in the quiet candlelight.
Bleed with me as each word burns;
Leave your world as each page turns."

Then can you cry out to the world, 
"Write me a poem worth reading;
Paint me a picture worth seeing;
Send me a letter worth opening
And give me a dream worth believing."