If it's true -
Is it true that
Even the greatest sinner of them all
The devil ?
Can anyone, no matter how -
Can someone like me?
If they can yet become
Like that
If that's so -
Then is it true
Possibly truly know
Is it feasible.
Well if anyone wants to know if you can help me out ~with~ the flow
Then yes I want to go.
Even if it hurts to see.
come meet the greatest cereal of all time said the Moon
It was noisy as a tornado, storm, hurricane or sonic boom
Made lovely noises, which were over way too soon
The name was appropriate – Snap Crackle and Boom
this must be a USA cereal, a foreigner said to me.
Oh yes, I agreed, as he finger pointed out on his cup of tea
It is one of the things that make us great, but it is not free
there is a tariff on it, so it now costs more than any utility.
Couldn't have dreamt this,
His tender first kiss,
Nibbled his lips,
Kissed my fingertips,
Kissed molasses hair,
Love his kissing flair,
Kissed a thousand times,
His mouth just rhymes,
Our attraction,
Love in action,
Lip sync bliss,
Love his kiss,
Kissing sublime,
Withstood all time.......
My favorite sweatshirt was fluorescent orange
There was a cartoon rooster on it, Foghorn Leghorn
It was cuddly and comfy, I wore it a lot in seventh grade.
It cost me three dollars in 1964
My favorite shirt ever
I saved my own money to buy it
This was when I was making twenty-five cents an hour babysitting
The little humble bean
that found its way into a cup
made a splash upon the scene
after Kaldi’s goat had stirred it up
it travelled fast and well
from Ethiopia to Yemen
some called it the drink from hell
until Clement became a fan.
the aroma crossed the pond
and Boston had to celebrate
once the New World had succumbed
it quickly poured out into states
before old London knew
they served it morning, noon and night
this penny university brew
would see its name put up in lights
in newspapers and magazines
the high street flooded with its shops
a berry rarely seen
in processed form warmed more than pots
served in different ways
from skinny whites to espresso shots
cappuccinos to tall lattes
we toast the goat that time forgot.
Travel with me and enter
into the flower carpeted mountain meadows
of my youth;
Lose yourself in the wild beauty which resides within
God's tinted skies of yellow and vermouth.
Vested memories held captive by eidetic moments,
"Oh blessed beating heart, "
enter the flowered thoughts of a poet's nest, delve into the
sanctuary of God's Grace,
for it is here that you belong.
Seen through the eyes, felt with the heart
ensconced with a soul your free to roam,
inside roads less traveled, where timeless voices
are heard, through the echoes of all time.
You belong to the One who has given you,
both shape and creed.
Time might silence awe and wonder,
Despite loss, I won’t go under,
Because I know One who won’t leave,
Praise rises from souls who believe.
Time might destroy my heart’s delight,
But there He is, shining so bright,
He’s the Light who will not deceive.
Praise rises from souls who believe.
Time might tempt me to just give up,
Still, I’ll keep drinking His grace cup.
To Jesus, my love, I will cleave.
Praise rises from souls who believe.
Timeless is this love I receive.
Praise rises from souls who believe.
All Time Is Of The LORD
By: Miracle Man
7/15/2023
I awoke this morning
with a stretch and yawn.
One step and I realized
I wasn’t King but still a Pawn.
I had remained a prisoner
of time and my condition.
Today didn’t start differently
but the same old rendition.
We change a car’s odometer
but can’t alter our age.
For once our clock is spent
it’s on history’s page.
God does not allow
for any type of revision.
So we can’t allow self
to be the impetus for derision.
Psalm 118:24 KJV
“This is the day which the LORD hath made; we will rejoice and be glad in it.”
All Time Is Of God
Written: by Miracle Man
4/6/2023
On days when nothing seems pressing inside of me,
I consider that day’s time as just being free.
Later, at day’s end, I ponder where this time went,
had it become wasted or was it time well spent.
Sometimes I view myself as being a time slave,
and unknown, the remainder, twixt me and the grave.
Muses are seen as a source of inspiration for writers of poetry. They guide the poet and form his or her words. Often seen as mediators between the spiritual and sensual aspects of poetry.
***
Place me on a pedestal and take me to the stars
enrich me with linguistic words of honey sweet
Fly me to the moon on wings of butterflies
dear muse, let your pearls resound inside this golden cornet
conduct in me a symphony with all the colors of the wind
inside this poignant writer's heart, there will always be a place
for you
So let us ruminate, reflect and contemplate together,
you and I side by side
floating high above the sky.
Climb the ladder of success with me, take me to Venus
so I can dance with the sun and cha cha with the moon
fly like a water ouzel and swim like a Mermaid
you and I side by side
for all time...
Jan 3 2023
Sponsor Regina McIntosh
Contest Name My Muse
All time stood still; he fell through air,
faces below, look up, and stare.
Each always a stranger to be.
While he ponders what they do see,
he's inclined to think they don't care.
Friends, family, thought he'd not dare,
now, as the wind brushes his hair
he feels at last totally free;
all time stood still.
Was anyone ever aware
the utter depth of his despair?
Everyone thought him fancy-free.
He's only just turned twenty-three
he reflected, mid-flight-mid-air.
All time stood still.
Violent offenders on the streets
Who can afford the price of meat
Culture wars are boiling over
Screams and shouts, and moreover
Teachers quitting in record numbers
Police and soldiers too, torn asunder
Trust in institutions at an all-time low
Kamala’s failed us; so has Joe
With most Americans wearing a frown
You’d think they wouldn’t double down
On the measures that put us in this awful hole
Seems they just don’t care ~ about us poor souls
I didn't even touch the heel of the frog
I am the most insignificant and invisible man lost in the sea of humanity
my head has no aura, my hands do no miracles
not even my mouth dripped nectar in the ear of silence
I'm such an ordinary man
so that even the definition of the ordinary looked at me strangely
I left the place at the top of the podium
for those who really
he deserves it.
I sink into oblivion
I dress in silence
and look at the sky
he's the only one who doesn't expect anything from me
You are my empty page of love
my double spaced sheet of solid white
you are my blank canvass
my heavenly shade of metal alloy
and I am your Helen of Troy
This Iliad of love
contains spark notes of our passion
No Greek God can ever compare to you
you
my warrior of all Time ....
For last fifty years.
Sad pillows still surround me
Moans are dragging me.
For last fifty years.
Heart is unable to see
the dark span thrilled me
For last fifty years.
I run around the time's dust
and the whirlwind falls.
For last fifty years.
I'm looking for My Nineties
Calm and loving beam.
For last fifty years.
Want to remain unloaded.
No one crossed but me.
For last fifty years.
doom angels did not appear
for life-changing hug.
For last fifty years.
Some subterfuge was muttered.
Step aimed for repent
For last fifty years.
hunt for a watering pot
Rain for Aaron's rod
For last fifty years.
And I'm relying on you
sky's tears have fallen.
For last fifty years.
The eyes decipher birth signs
on heat and pain shores.
For last fifty years.
sins tighten the grip of grief
hope and goodness fade
For last fifty years.
The metal scream may be heard.
metal beat yields steel.
Written: August 6, 2021
A Brian Strand 1,2 or 3 line Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
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