The volatile excerpt reads “The behead-
ings that were carried out by the Isla-
mic State of Iraq and Syria, the
rage of hate is a control factor for
the power of the leader to be sup-
reme. Is this the measure of mankind?
The rigor-mortis that lay before us
is a terrorist creed dogma time clock.
None the less than government formed through doc-
trine of Qu’ran and Sunni stated to
be the divine order of all the land.
al-Baghdadi caliphate is mercen-
ary to the faith of the Middle East.
The rage of hate must be depleted now."
R oused was the first leader and destroyed.
a l-Baghdadi came on board.
G ruesome guerilla killed woman, man, and child for his caliphate.
E quality must be palpability today.
F ear that is caste by ISIS.
O ften is not considered by the people as a terrorist.
R egards are to the governess.
P opulations are nations
E volved to roam.
A spirations are not known.
C aliphate has formed.
E quity and identity is commercial paper shown.
Penned February 27, 2015!
This poem is a sonnet that is emphasized via an
acrostic for the desired effect on the stated form.
Copyright © Verlena S. Walker | Year Posted 2015
Twinkling water...Shimmering Star
Loud Whispers resonate near and far
Nature's bounty..Meadows of grave
Misty dust commands the slave
Visions foreseen feed the blind
Lost sight or an averted mind
Tumbling tiara settles on lies
Instincts battle when truth is wise
False adherence refuse to obey
Commands of my master
When is offered to flay
Slave will rise to shelter its pride
One day it shall conquer the tide
One day it shall make it wide
Copyright © Rashmi Singh | Year Posted 2016
i'd allowed you in again even thou my soul was shattered god was quite displeased as you hammered your dark fist against my rib cage senseless i thought an yet you were forgiven again even more than the last time i'd carefully packed garments birth certificates and social security cards while dripping tears and blood onto the blank pages of my new residence a safe place chanted across the empty lines then availibility how many beds as we poured into the entrance the sign read safe you are not alone an yet i'd left everything i was centered in a room of over fourteen other women quiet timid angry how we failed at making a male happy within his own skin how he'd torn into us all it was like the same man had beaten us all an yet i knew only you calm cool collective when the cops came taking you around the corner to cool off where was i here in america why i was all races all religions an yet i was harmed while the worse part of my abuse was returning to my abuser how you emptied me into silence covered in tears black and blue an yet i missed you washing the bruises with soft soap our children were shattered as i explained daddy was ill he was sick he worked very hard to care for us if we were more quiet well behaved he would respond to our energy and love us deeply as deep as i allowed myself to be abused this was america oppression depression family ties became wrath as i whispered he know's not what he does we are loved as i planned a new home among strangers an yet they were me i was all of these women a safe place sorjournal truth home the harbor light inn the st angeline christian center chaplins office the salvation army cornerstone community outreach shelter the springs outreach where was home in america as i embraced you served you were ill you would someday change abuse would become softer cycles will be broken but here in the in this space in this place and in this time you became plural that's all as i soon became very small why i soon became safe
Copyright © Yolanda Jones | Year Posted 2012
Two thoughts come to mind this morning. The deficiencies in our
systems of governance -
local, global --
and the first two pages of The End of Faith in which he mistakes political
(acts of war) for
but recognizes understanding the workings of the world is not the same
Every new twinge provokes fear but what is there to fear? That
The year of a man is the day of an inchworm and 267 years on a
A billion of anything is a lot unless it's the distance one must traverse to
How much silence, or tinnitus, can you handle? A chipmunk cannot for
Once the twinge passes I'm off to the next task: building a constituency
for this compassion,
The dialogue starts with a question. To know the question is almost
certainly to find
Conflating questions is the commonest of logic errors. No negotiation
Why not talk while we fight? We can always kill, torture or assassinate
Justice, or retribution if you want, can remain on the table even after we
Nature is my religion, I know no other, and community is my church.
is policy debate. I attend church everyday. Our jobs are hymns (the
and payment for services rendered is sung praise and gratitude. Walking
Strategies to limit or subvert discussion are the only evil. Violence
but not by far the only one. What's the hurry to build a highway or free
The secret of life is enjoying the passage of time and time is the mercy
Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015
I was born in a world of poverty and soiled life of a third world country
The way I lived till I was five years of age was walls of boundary
These walls had towers of guards that had no heart or care
If a child would try to climb the wall they lose their life I swear
Father had drank and threatened my mother with a knife
My father lost his job and wife and that was the hardship of life
He stopped my mother from taking off with me in her arm
Hoping that my father would ignore and left me be with no harm
When my father went off to drink one night and came home with rage
My brothers stood by my crib and took a beating that set up the next stage
My father had woken up to three scared children half starved and in pain
His final words as he walk away from the orphanage gate live life do not go insane
I was still a baby in the orphanage; the caretakers did not really care about the babies
They stole items and materials those wicked men and maternal evil ladies
They starved all the babies because it cost a lot to keep them alive
As a child of that age I could feel the sins and greed that gave out bad vibes
I was ignorant about what I drank and ate, as I see white maggots move in my bottle
As I see them move I thought about how they were playing and some were hostel
They ate each other to keep each other alive in a manner that took me by surprise
In the back round I hear others throwing things with sounds of painful cries
I got very strong at a young age I was able to start pulling myself up over the cage
My feelings were to see my brothers with strong lungs that I cried out of rage
My two brothers came to see me and sneak food into my crib
The caretaker would find the food in my hands as they grabbed it and hit me on my ribs
As painful as it was I kept eating the food with blood in my mouth as it was instinct
I sometimes laid in my crib dazed and confused with smell of death so distinct
With all my might I kept myself strong and climb the small wall
I finally was old enough to get out of the building and I could hear my brothers call
With tears of joy with short legs that ran as fast as my heart
I ran to my brothers arms and held their hands to have a new start
I grew stronger everyday but more things came into my life in a manner of dismay
If my brothers stay by my side I could smile and everyday their would be okay
Copyright © Reynaldo Mast | Year Posted 2013
The coming times can unfold,
far accross to all lands,
the casting shadow has fallen,
with it's far reaching hands,
accross our four cornered world,,
Humanity progressed to progressive sufferage,
that comes with many names,
the ideology won without a shot,
convinced populations into guilted shame,
lost are voices of courage,,
The warring world will arise,
between makers and takers,
parasitic ideology's green eyed mind,
re-writing regulations by progressive thinkers,
big brother's utopian great enterprise,,
Dependent we all become, parasitically,
even forced fed into submission,
by governmental state so enlarged,
numbered you are by institution,
nothing owned, only redistributed cynically,,
Paupers suffer under progressive fortitude,
soulless programs of living propaganda,
your worth, what you produce,
socialized into this living agenda,
living taxed products of servitude,
, and then...
The rise will come independent,
carrying courage and freedom proudly,
with wisdoms weapon in hand,
knowledge in the other soundly,
honor reclaimed by the sentient,,
Independent declarations germinating from seed,
feared by any progressive regime,
warriors in freedom stand tall,
threatened is the progressive dream,
renewing freedoms that will breed,,
The liberty that spawned revolution,
alive from all moral conceptions,
viewed as evil that's progressive,
feared are soulless seeking redemption,
the light of liberty's salvation,,
Beating freedoms of sentient heart,
the salvation of fighting worth,
a force greater than any darkness,
warriors of liberty step forth,
champions of honor that impart,,
, next, the final chapter of...
Ideological war of the worlds,
eye to eye never seen,
the hatred between clearly drawn,
problems with peace to intervene,
the conflict as it unfolds,,
Coming as thieves of night,
armys on both sides comes,
fortifying and building societial walls,
truth and lies propaganda welcomes,
armored suited masses to fight,,
Emerges the lights of honor,
the independent class called defenders,
private elites of character gold,
the shadows behind all pretenders,
opperatives that's far more superior,,
Defenders are warriors of light,
core beliefs that's solely independent,
religiously organized they never follow,
thorns in a crowned tyrant,
independent wills of great might,,
They are why freedom thrives,
true leaders leading into tomorrow,
that govern by liberty's will
that invites everyone to follow,
founding fathers of our lives..
Copyright © S.K. Y. | Year Posted 2013
About a few days ago, to my embarrassment,
I saw two men ill-treating a dog. They beat it until its death!
The men were laughing, having fun.
I was taken aback.
And lost faith in humanity.
Homo Sapiens, meaning Wise Men.
Hah? Wise men?
Man has turned into an inhumane senseless beast.
The world is full of crass materialism.
War bloodshed and terrorism.
A faultless infant,
A starving dotard.
Do these innocents deserve this?
Man has become a cruel, blood sucking leech,
Is this what our culture and religion teach?
Grief, unhappiness and pain has become a common sight,
Small things, big fights.
I am shocked to see the inhumanity of a man towards man,
We talk of wisdom, intelligence.
Where are we? Is this going good?
Where are the senses gone?
The world has turned into a nasty pit.
Lack of morals, Lack of wit!
I feel ashamed,
I feel pity!
And yes? Completely lost faith in humanity.
If this continues
Human species will not last longer.
Just think about it.
Make this world a better place to live in?
Copyright © Kshitija Agrawal | Year Posted 2015
Though I am a blank but still,
I can smell their shallowness from twill,
How debunked shame and superficiality in them,
But no cuss, ahem…
Because it ‘be questioned, frowned and fuss,
Hah…so this fallacy of twenty-first,
Disguised under flag of ‘coolness’,
Don’t abuse it with the with f n b in utter flatness,
Because, its today’s trend,
To be free in all the evils commend,
Which makes per worthy to the cool breed
That creed which is clad in obscene lee
What an awfully excruciating enlightenment I see,
In which moral and respect bleed
Copyright © HINA NASIR | Year Posted 2015
I do not know?
Their violence, can only be condemned
Their fires, can never be extinguished
For their bullets, and detonations
Can never be undone
As living is not an option, for the lifeless
Their contemptuous acts against humanity
Cannot be denied
For the tears they have claimed, keep flowing
Promising no dryness, until peace prevails
And weapons, are lost
Reasons, bear no importance
Murder, can only be condoned by few
For bloodied portraits, agonize most
As often innocent souls, wishing to turn back time
Shadow the background of each
The growth of the cynic, only thrives
As compassion, evades his heart
His faith in mankind, is long lost
Though a cynic, I am not
My heart only throbs
As the city of love, is wounded by hate...
Copyright © Keshan Govender | Year Posted 2015
by Edlynn Nau
Copyright © Edlynn Nau | Year Posted 2015
The Crusades Began a Holy War
Which Continues to this Day.
We Kill, and Kill, and Now it Seems,
This shall Always be the Way.
One Side Scores, the Others Die,
Then the Cycle is Repeated.
It never Stops, It’s never Done;
The Battles Grow More Heated!
The Way to Peace, it Seems so Clear,
Is not Through Senseless Slaughter.
I Appeal to All, “Please Quit the Fight!”
Save our Sons and Daughters!
To Find Our Way out of the Dark,
We Need only Seek the Light.
A Solution Lies within our Grasp:
Forget who’s Wrong or Right!
This God or that, it Makes no Matter.
This Truth I have Acquired:
Be they Different, or the Same,
The Gods would Preach Cease Fire!
Copyright © Steven Gadberry | Year Posted 2010
I do not know?
*A assignment was due in class. *
Every time a gun shoots
A tree looses its roots
Every time there is bloodshed
Along with it millions of tears are shed
Every time a heart is stabbed
Someone else’s life gets barren
As violence grows
Many more mothers moan
The sounds of destruction
Overpowers the voice of those
Who are innocent
Who suffer with no reason
Who beg for life
Who have heart full of innocence
Why do so much violence?
That the child’s cry cannot be heard
When his father is killed
Why do so much violence?
That a mother moans
Over her child’s dead remains
Why do so much violence
For winning any stupid battle
Which is taking lives
Of people who have wives
And mothers and children
When you can keep calm
Talk things out
Do whatever you can
To keep violence out
Because there is no sin as big as
Copyright © donna lu | Year Posted 2013
I'll write to you of medieval ages,
Foreign lands,knights and of many sages.
Medieval verse,and versification
With ancient meter I shall imitate,
To flesh out this age's animation.
And stories fictional and real I'll tell.
The souls of sundry virtues and vices
I shall show to men of all kinds of eyes,
So that I their souls might excite to life.
Who truly is alive without his senses,
yet many minds live with mental fences.
The Gods were chased away from this bright land,
And many countries were drowned in darkness.
Art was unpainted,clogged up fairy wells.
Unlearning became the new science of man
And music deemed to be of Satan birthed
For its mirth, and carnal rhythmic pleasures.
Oh of truth this divine art of muses,
Music's mothers, the soul with beauty fuses,
Yet still were libraries burned to ashes,
and with timeless secrets the fool clashes.
Empires undone from within and out,
To be hewn down by hounds to war devout,
Who from savage forests came to devour
The sheep and the pampered puppies of Rome.
The Gods did pity these once great races,
the light torchbearers which the dark faces
with it’s all consuming flames of sheer might
which scorches into ashes scrap and dross,
to fuel its holy energy and fire,
the giver to mankind of life so sought.
Copyright © Victor Chavez | Year Posted 2013
Maiming, killing, chaos, happening throughout this nation, happenings everyday.
Saw an article in the newspaper about the City of Detroit. A killing frequently just another day.
Now as Christians we should realize and know that violence breeds violence.
So what do we do? We arm our educators so we can protect our children our innocents.
More people this year have been killed in Detroit than in the Afghan war.
Right here in the U.S.A. violence is leaving a tremendous scar.
Our children being taught through the airways, video games, that same sex marriage is OK’
Our Television media explodes when violence is shown; our moral compass is in disarray.
This goes back along time our nation is a relatively young nation compared to the Vatican and the Pope.
Yet since our very Foundation we are supposedly a nation that believe in God, Christian today think that this is a travesty a joke.
We lead in exporting smut triple x rated films nasty movies that turn up everywhere we are being misled.
The devil, his legions, control the airways they have crept into our culture, our families, our moral compass is dead.
As Christians we should pray in repentance, turn to God’s Commandments, and trust our Father.
Trusting corrupted leaders, trusting in man, is not the way in history it has never worked, this is what I’ve gathered.
Detroit a city gripped with terror, fear, a city where our children die in crossfire.
This is a national concern a must change policy towards children, to see them gunned down the situation is dire.
The four horsemen have been riding for a long time.
Ignoring the “Word” Ignoring the Father is truly the real crime.
We do ourselves no justice, with our free will we as Christians must trust in our Savior and the Lord.
Asking God to guide “Us,” in electing officials that have the courage to say enough, let’s go to God and His Son for help. Let’s truly as nation follow the “Word.”
Copyright © Robert Ball | Year Posted 2013
Your word oh God is like unto a lamp
that guides the footsteps of your flock
inscribed upon their hearts like a stamp
and the path of the master they stalk
On the road to Mount Zion they walk
and the gifts they bring you in praise
about their redeemer and King they talk
and his banner is the one that they raise
Their garments resemble the spirit of light
and crowns of radiance upon their head
wield the Word of Truth do they fight
with principalities the earth will shed
Against the rulers of darkness they stand
the fallen sons of God and their wiles
they hold the shield of faith in their hand
to defend against that which defiles
They wrestle not with flesh and blood
against the strongholds of darkness they wield
with the gospel of peace are their feet shod
and the sword of the spirit in the field
They fight against those who mankind would harm
the war is not with weapons of steel
they have gone forth to sound the alarm
to flee from the gods where the fallen do kneel
The knowledge of God teaches love and truth
and tender thoughts of understanding
so many minds acquired hatred in youth
and with the armies of Demons are banding
To understand God his Word you must know
discerning the powers that rule in his stead
the Word who is master the truth will you show
least on the wrong path you be led
The sword of the spirit is the Word of Truth
God does not torture or rape
The Demons are ones who with war do sooth
and the face of this world shape
sources IICor. 10:3-6 Eph. 6:10-17
Mark 13:2 II Tim 3:1-5
Apocalypse 11:18 , chptr 19
COPYRIGHT © all rights reserved
2010 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Copyright © Poetryof Providence | Year Posted 2014
I see Beyond The Boundaries
Winter arrived before her time
Usurping part of autumn’s decline
Came in with a vengeance bent on crime
Harsh not smooth like a fine wine
Her sting bore a resemblance to life
Her temper reaped violence and strife
Baring her weapons took untold lives
Only the strongest were able to survive
Black Friday wielded the same attitudes
Rage and violence struck without gratitude
What has happened to plain simple courtesy?
Evil struck early to deter the Spirit of Mercy
I lift my hands to you Oh Lord Send your Spirit
Saturate this earth with your power so evil fears it
Lift the haughty spirit that looms over the land
Sooth the tempest with the kindness of your hand
Paula Swanson’s Contest
I See Beyond…
Copyright © Carole Cookie Arnold | Year Posted 2011
To whit to be caught between two brothers
and become the sport of many others
She kept her heart from loving true
but not from the damage passing through
Oh twice spent the beauties coin
did deliberate vengence to purloin
thought knowingly did enter door
in spite she cast them to the floor
Though twas for couple it's own collusion
the device and trap it's own illusion
the crimes waylaid doth carry to the grave
to curse ones soul as fearful and not brave
Twas the story carried in her mind
her face to others she wished were blind
and with ones sight to look upon her heart
to know in violence was her start
She thought those sins would ever last
or to shake the paths of her past
in her fears her heart down cast
she did not know to forgiveness ask
Unable to differentiate between love and need
or if womans desire was only greed
If man looks upon her with his smile
is he looking for love or just another trial
She asks those questions to this day
must there be violence to graveyard pay
for many men have forced their way
in their behavior did have no say
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Copyright © Poetryof Providence | Year Posted 2012
I sat down and read my previous work.
Coming down those pages I burn.
You took care of me putting up a front so I wont leave.
Thats not love, I already know whats coming from the pages I read.
I told my story and opened up to the world.
Letter to the future it followed me for the worst.
Wise words that were deep I followed them in circles they were after me.
Tomorrow is a blessing I promise I've learned.
The pictures you painted I framed with your name.
I needed you, you needed me to stay high and to take blame.
Riding with a four five a five hundred and a triple beam.
Twenty four seven counting sheep till sun sets at forty eight.
Messing around with faith held me back i wake up late.
Last nigh wasn't ok after I had a dream with a hand shake.
The drugs and the music made me into who i am.
No regrets no denials I know I'm right so I left.
Kindness will lose the war, history is evidence.
Violence is victory so ill leave it a memory.
Leave a message for the past now I'm reaching to destiny.
Copyright © fernando vergara | Year Posted 2014
RISKING THE RISK
Many things happen under the sun and moon
Nobody cares if it escapes the understanding of the common man
Life is bigger than logic; living is a colossal mystery juxtaposed to existence
Of what use is the mouth if it can’t speak up when needed?
What else is the purpose of the ear if it can’t hear what is happening?
Blindness is the better option if the eye can’t see what its there to see
What again awaits the man that has brain and can’t make use of it; Death?
Who would see a fight and not fight it out with the fight?
What would it profit a man if he gives in to intimidation & looses his rights?
Would you rather be killed when you can kill your killer?
Nobody gave me a chance; I took one
Not ready to think about the risk: let the result be won
Heard everybody dies and not everybody has lived
So, I preferred being the lion that died and not the sheep that lived
So busy daring for many things and not hoping for nothing
Calculations never made a hero; zero plus zero equals to nothing
So destined for greatness; it requires me to take risks and confront hazards
Tomorrow will give birth to both sexes; got the prophecy from the wizards
Refusing to be among the cautious crowd that refuse to play not to loose
I stood out to play to win; won the crown and the queen, then let hell loose.
Intimidation has intimidated me enough that I refuse to be intimidated
I hate that boy that have accepted to be trampled upon by a lesser being
I love the girl that have insisted on standing on her rights and not falling
Shame to the man that is biased and can’t stand on the side of truth & justice
Oh! She said; there is one concept of truth but can be realized in many ways
Glory to who deserves glory; let someone pay respect to the glorified guru
Many came, saw & couldn’t conquer what the few didn’t see, yet conquered
Thought himself a god and treaded on the path angels are afraid to tread on
His ego is stupidly big; he foolishly offended the wrong person that is right
He took the risky risk; now, the outcome can’t be over, risking him a risk.
Copyright © Victor Alexander | Year Posted 2013
And so do I fall, and so do I fail,
Falling so deeply into this destructive void,
Nothing but ash and specs of dust that were once my brittle bones and scarred flesh.
To not know what is ahead,
How maddening! How so distraught have I seemingly become,
Forgotten myself as time has smoothed over me.
Tricky, sly fiend indeed; master and slave a like to us all.
Do I dare move forward into the uncertainty that is humanity and of such society?
So gut wrenching, thoughts filled of bile at what is.
As we all are from and are the same, yet tear limb by limb the essence of ourselves by one another in an endless state of bigotry and violence; so brightly are we bathed in evil.
So easy is it to see.
Miracles; perhaps shall they see fit to carry me away from the void that is, and from such temptation, as to live the rest of days in blissful, stagnant dreams.
Copyright © Joshua Brown | Year Posted 2013
>Afghanistan, England, Iran, France, Iraq, Belgium.
Sorry if your country. I missed.
I guess I need a longer list.
Of where those IS terrorists, have now struck.
And someone has, had such bad luck.
With explosions sounding in the air.
And the smell of death, everywhere.
Loved ones lost and some are maimed.
Never will life be the same.
With borders open. It’s so easy.
For IS terrorists to move around you see.
All we innocents, won’t really mind at all.
If countries borders are restored as a tool.
To keep those who are IS terrorists at bay.
It must be done soon now I say.
With all those strangers who now appear.
As refugees, or not, I fear.
All must be detained at least until we know.
Who are friends and who is foe
Then our law authorities will then know.
Who can stay and who can go.
I know this prose will not be to everyone's frame of mind. But that's the novelty of being poets. We are not all of one mind. Are we?. Though this rhyme may be absurd. It is a truly written word. Many souls were lost today in Brussels, so the news does say. I hope no more of it you'll know, I fear IS there. I hope you or I are not next to go. Or will not see my poetic flow and that will never do you know. So just now I'll say hello. Stanley (the mad author)<
Copyright © STANLEY Harris | Year Posted 2016
Premeditated thoughts, I'm lost because gravity fought
Derailed the train off the tracks, because the railroad I crossed
I knocked, on the door to glory and it shut right in my face
So I run to metaphors, 'cause on a blank page, I feel in place
Moral of the story is, I'm more than what meets the eyes
A poet under the skin, I learned as a kid and began to rhyme
Though broken times, I keep my book of rhymes as my protector
My guardian angel is alive, he's living with my neglect-or
Victorious over rhythm, but it seems I can never please
Questioning myself, I find myself on my knees, I breathe
The trees, quit recycling oxygen and recycle my life
It's like the more struggling I go through, the more I multiply
I let the ink bleed through my wounds, 'cause it heals my scars
And as my consciousness fades, I see constellation stars
Though every bar, I'm aware and living in a broken silence
Pick up my pen, and kills rhymes through Spoken Violence
Copyright © Aaron Guttery | Year Posted 2013
It is in the heart of Man to prey.
Weak seeking weaker
to make themselves strong.
a clever line
a silver tongue
a Charmer’s charm.
It’s all been done and
yet we fall.
we embrace the bright-eyed-winker.
Searching for self in a snake’s charm.
Ignore the Whisper
we take his arm
Lord, do not let me be deceived.
Do not lead me astray.
Show me your will.
All the while
we are beguiled.
Copyright © Melisa May | Year Posted 2007
i seek refuge from the most high.
As the jupiter stars align.
The deity has been forsaken.
My faith is in its reawakening.
Penance for the strong.
Vengeance for the petulant.
As i peer atop the towers of babylon.
Faith is restored by elegance.
Trouble is the soul that worships.
The inclination becomes sordid.
The kabaa'h or the dome of rock.
The populace has been misinformed.
Nothing short of theological derilium.
As i revel in this scripture,s utterance.
Time has diluted that to be carried on.
Now as little as a seed of mustard.
Copyright © abidemi oyewole | Year Posted 2016
A man acquainted with sorrows and grief
be it then was bruised for our relief
the ones ruling over them kept them in pain
but struck was he so we might Life regain
All like sheep have wandered astray
but he announced to the crowds Gods new day
no violence could be found in his actions done
he spoke of peace in the kingdom to come
He fed the hungry and gave to the poor
tender of heart and kind to his core
oppressed was he and sore afflicted
falsely accused by traditionalists indicted
A quiet man who spoke of verity
taught of loving kindness and mercies charity
the man he was did the broken draw
in every point did he fulfill Gods Law
The works of his hands righteous and clean
his judgment was pure and never mean
a candle whose light has dispelled the dark
his praise for his Father did all his works mark
Jehovah pronounced this the Son he approved
to him was beloved and the World reproved
no harm could be found in his heart or hand
those who follow him will the same stance stand
He sought not mens praise or their vainglory
yet acquired Gods love but by man treated poorly
unlike the kings who Lord over their kin
washed the feet of disciples those lower than him
Did demonstrate he how to walk Truths Way
by example showed traits his disciples display
with accurate judgment in all that he did
to become like him to his disciples he bid
We are not worthy of God to approve
if we do not from our lives violence remove
those who hate and practice manslaughter
cannot become his Son or his daughter
To become like him the Truth you must drink
it must cleanse from you what the world think
upon his teaching consume as your bread
without his life in you , you are still dead..
sources Ps 18 , Is 53 and the gospels
COPYRIGHT © 2010 C Michael Miller
Copyright © Poetryof Providence | Year Posted 2011
Walk through things that hurt you once
Mind-play distances, half done stunts
Turn away and off the path
Feel your way and crawl to ask.
Heartbeat pounding, muscles bulge
Vision lessened, do what you're told.
Mind played distances, half-known thoughts
Deep stirred feelings sold for nought.
Fists then clench and look around
Told and told and told again. . .
Hail the Goddess one and all!
Feel your way and move towards.
Never knew you, Where've you been?
Brighten up and Hail again!
Copyright © Erik Spector | Year Posted 2015
crowned with crosses of anger
do they chant under clouds of black
over oceans full of tears
the downfall of Caesar
and an army with no spears
their faces emotionless still
post war and home destruction
their mothers lie ill
by their sons' demonic conception
their founder is of great deal
he creates them and resurrection
called by the upmost perfection
they fullfill the call and feel
their shape is of no complexion
and their duty is simple and clear
bound by Man's ego
the army knows no limit
roaming the edges of earth
draging their swords behind
dead are they since birth
zombies that have no kind
spreading their darkness of soul
the army never rests
to be killing once more
is to fullfill the thirst He kept
till no one is left around
then the army kills itself
Copyright © Marik Ishtar | Year Posted 2017