Best Abortion Poems
Oh, Lord! Lest one is asleep,
the purge to kill you,yet again,
is quite deep.
Some, who read your word in
the Bible, re-create it, with myths
that are long and deep.
Or, they in arrogance and fervent
ignorance stomp, on your words
as but fairy tales.
They are turning the tables on you,
woking hard to make you a fable!
As in days of Hitler, we who believe,
are shot dead in Temples and churches!
(Then, they blame guns!)
We live in a society in great pain.
Of course, bullets in this society reign!
We are being attacked for any freedom
of speech of you, and are always
besmirched.
We are beaten and called names by lost
soul jerks.
We open businesses but those who hate
your children want all of them shut down.
Because the businesses won't support the
killing of babies.
They torture us wearing their popular~~
'freedom of choice' crowns.
Churches are objects of derision.
You, God, they wrongly surmise is the
source of any division!
Poets here, who write of you, are
mostly passed over as "boring."
Your creations are adored ad infinitum~
They drool, however over their dog,
Rover!
The seas, the birds, the splendor in all
the flowers.
Their poetry glories!
Of these they write and sing for endless
hours.
Of you? Bah, humbug!
Our serenity, our hopes no longer lies in you.
But in politics, poetry, news, movies, booze,
sex-aplenty, self-adoration and calming drugs.
Oh, Lord~ we are so lost!
Have Mercy on us all, I beg!
Panagiota
POTD*. 10/17/2019
Hocus Pocus
Poets are like magicians.
They trick the heart into feeling,
“things” they had no idea, were there at all.
Sadly poets don’t always know how their tricks work.
They sit and think, and study, and hope and even pray.
They are prone to mistakes and misinterpretations.
Yet…
Poets, dare to dream in colors,
of blue, and yellow, and green.
They sing songs to no one,
people that can barely hear at all.
They make jokes that people miss,
sometimes on purpose.
“May I read you this?” a courageous voice in the crowd.
Met with scoffs and “Oh my’s” or worse.
“How long will it be, why did you bother?”
“Will it make me laugh or smile?”
“Perhaps I do not want to feel that way!”
Then…
they leave their words,
lying on the ground.
Un...cared for.
A blessing,
they are found…
treasures all around.
words on a page, a tiny perfect stage.
When we are alone,
not being what others say we are…
we are closer to ourselves and not far from Him.
Some of us, not all of us, but a few…
look at the words and dare to consider,
to ponder how it feels to fly, from a wheelchair,
to sing without a voice,
to laugh at yourself,
and even…
dare to love.
Mama don't take my breath away
My only chance to love and play
I know you're hurting I can tell
Mama don't give up on me as well
Mama I long to touch your face
Feel the beauty of your grace
I dream one day to see you smile
Mama don't ever say Goodbye
A faithless entity unhappiness coldly it turns the eyes around coils
breeding misery a vice with hate that consumes unconscious reality
Crawling underneath a thin veil of darkness
hiding within bitterness that licks the wounds
As a blindness burns one beggar in hell's soup boils
tortured by untruths morally shading absent light
Without His Holiness a soul never finds peace
just war without hope develops inside the ugliness
How much more are we willing to lose?
Maybe it will just stop with the right to choose.
Have you thought of that child who got raped in the park?
Imagine her pain each night after dark.
Do you know a pregnant mother with young kids at home?
What if a complication suddenly left them alone?
How would they live and where would they go?
Before you pass judgement, there are facts you should know.
What if development does not go as planned?
Should both a mother and child die, because abortion is banned?
Do the wants of the many outweigh the needs of the few?
What if this was your mother or child, then what would you do?
I believe all life is precious, and every breath deserves a voice.
But God gave us free will, and with that comes choice.
Should the decisions of others be controlled by you or me?
Right or wrong is up to God, and always will be.
Mixed Messages
One last ticket.
One last seat on the train.
Running fast,
to make it, before there is
no chance to escape,
the fate of the ages.
Stone statues,
frozen in time...
put up, taken down,
pulled apart and destroyed.
Toys to the elites,
making sweeping decisions...
that effect us all.
Shooting rays at the sun,
that warms our world.
There... there is life bleeding out,
in torrents of colors,
red, gold, blue, and even green.
Soon there will be
no living thing...
left.
The rich man buys up acres,
and lets the land go fallow.
The homeless starve in their tents
downtown.
Food lines, and riots by pirates,
a caravan of the starving
mongrels, zombies,
and the lost.
The journey coming to an end,
the roller skates stopped on the concrete...
signs that say go home,
but there is nowhere to go.
Strangers are attacking me;
ruthless men seek my life—
men without regard for God. Selah
Psalm 54:3
GOD SEES THE COURAGEOUS AT WORK
Wild-eyed disregard for God —
The mocking tone, the spittoon.
The leering eyes —
they’re tiger’s eyes.
They plop near the weights —
the courageous snakes, and
throw balls of cannon smoke.
They hope that we will choke.
The courageous throw acid
in a virgin’s angelic face.
The courageous pounds their rusted
nails into fragile wrists and ankle saints —
these innocents whose haloed guardian’s
see the illuminated face of almighty God.
The courageous divide fetus parts,
roll them like dice, put them on display.
The courageous pillage, rape and sodomize
thinking if there’s a God, he will see it as sport.
They drink deeply the heart blood and soul
but none can escape the Ancient of Days.
Life is a pit, a mere hole for the courageous
to drown. They’ve looked for a fiery dragon
And he’s been found, awaiting the demise
of as many curs-ed petals he can find.
Selah…
if only for a moment the dead blinked,
the light of day might have saved their hide.
The brokenhearted will feast at the King’s table.
with no need to fear when evil is deceased.
9/24/2019
On My Own
It is early in the day for most.
I am just going to sleep. ‘
This will make many people angry.
But at times, I just don’t care.
I wish that I did.
A glass of wine, a pill from the doctor.
That is not enough.
Soon, it is a second glass, a second small tablet.
I have to keep up to everything; that is expected.
I have done so for so long, I don’t remember…
any other life.
Others hurt too. I see. I watch. I listen.
Everywhere, pain. Suffering!
Then there is that moment, you ask yourself???
“Do I like me anymore?”
(All drugs, alcohol or “other” should be taken in front of a mirror.
You need to see for yourself what things are doing to you…legal or not.)
If the answer is not hopeful…
then the problem is great indeed.
The burden heavy, the measure of it,
only “You” know.
Oh, and Him.
Friends,
Hope is sometimes right there.
In front of everything, seated in the best place.
Yet we “choose” to walk on, the path unknown,
Careless, reckless and dangerous to ourselves,
and even to others.
If that is happening, or worse has happened?
You have been given permission to go back.
“He” died to make it possible.
You can make it right.
It is a gift.
You are valued. You have a place.
You are loved.
Little lights begin to shine
Tiny heartbeats in the dark
With a glowing hope inside
To shine brighter than the stars
But their possibilities.....
Suddenly come to an end
Echoing in their silent screams
All they could have been
I see a doctor, I see a preacher
A loving nurse...A home school teacher
A little boy rounding third base
That home run smile all over his face
They would change the world we're living in
If only they could be.....
All they could have been
We explain it all away
A thousand reasons for their fall
But they can never be replaced.....
Listen close....and hear the call
'To welcome all the angels
Heaven chose to send....
Let all God's children be
All they could have been
I see a priest...a president
The hands of an artist...a pilot's accent
Mom's joyful tears--graduation day
As her baby girl walks 'cross the stage
Yes, they would change the world we're living in....
If only they could be.....
All they could have been
Just a chance to be....
All they could have been
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Through the screams of pain,
I heard a cry,
A cry that indicated a birth of a new life.
Sitting in the hospital corridor,
I could hear the cry of happiness from tiny lungs,
I could experience the same happiness,
The family was going through.
Yes a girl child!
I thought to myself,
She might be lucky,
She has a modern family who cared for her
Thank god! she did not go through the pain of being killed.
This world has learnt to accept a girl child!
I am happy.............
Father of all bombs when dropped
five times greater than the mother
Where a fallen angel's dance begins
fornicating with matter darkening subjects
through and through dimensions opening a porthole
Acting a tough guy with your orange face
shows little wit as one peace maker
gives a bloody nose to politics to say the least
To this sinful act of heresy that's displayed under lies
in provoking war with the show of strength and power
Blind becomes your weakness
Takes more than courage to grow a backbone
to be humble aggression is by deeds done
under one sign of weakness shows where the insecurity dwells
co written by Liam and Bobby McDaid
our joint opinion on a certain matter our world has become filled with evil slave masters rising to power under mass human sacrifice
A poem about infanticide of girls...
"Save Our Sisters!"
Many girls lost, many girls missed
Many girls lost, never to be Ms.
Strings of girls, strands of pearls,
Gone, gone, gone. Pretty, pretty, girls.
A mother's hug, a sister’s laugh, a daughter’s kiss
Lost, lost, lost. Missed, missed, missed.
Many girls lost, many girls missed
Many girls lost, never to be Ms.
Young girls grow up, become young ladies.
But for Indian girls, that’s a big maybe
Young girls grow up, become young ladies.
But for Chinese girls, that’s a big maybe,
Many girls lost, many girls missed
Many girls lost, never to be Ms.
Run, Run, Run, hide your daughters,
Run, Run, Run. Run from the slaughter.
Wake up world, we’ve lost too many sisters.
S.O.S. World, Save Our Souls, Save Our Sisters.
NoelsArt
Comments: In some parts of the world, the three deadliest words are “It’s a girl”. Girls are killed for being girls. After watching this movie trailer http://www.itsagirlmovie.com/ , I wrote the poem above. FEEDBACK WELCOME.
There you are being conceived in your mother's womb.
Before you know it you will be born in this world
real soon.
As you develop; you start to move around. You take in
your first food as your mom gobbles it down.
Your ears start to develop; behold now you can hear!
You start to move around as the sounds you hear are
weird.
You look around to only darkness. So you yawn and fall
asleep. Look at those precious toes that are taking
shape on your little feet!
You hear your mother talking and you react to her voice.
You start to kick. You start to coo. It seems to make
you rejoice.
I can hear the sound of your heart beat, and at hearing
it I fall in love. I take a moment to see what is now
going on in heaven above.
Yah smiles down upon you as a precious baby is starting
to take shape. Everything seems good so far, but hold up
baby...wait!
A pain hits you hard. You're wondering what's the
commotion. You don't even know it, but your mom
is now having an abortion.
You don't deserve this. You're a precious baby. To be
born is the Father's will. But you don't even know it,
because now you are being killed.
The pain is killing you...unbearable pain, but what can
you do. It hurts too much to say this is what your mom
thinks of you.
Some think they know better, but your life began at
conception. Why do some think otherwise? Is it because
they fell victim to the devil's deception?
Look at you torn to pieces. I'm crying at the sight
of you. But it's a relief to your mother, she sees a
different point of view.
Another child dead. Another life gone. I can't control
my emotion. A precious gift from above is now the victim
of another abortion.
Unrhymed tercets
The Withdrawing Room
Huddled together in this abstemious grey chamber
no windows or means of escape walls closing in
trapped where the un-sanctified transactions are made
Daunting without exit the silent screams go unheard
ashen skin with darting eyes never looking up
forever too frightened of seeing the truth reflected back
In the unholy grail in visions of comrades within this un-sacred act of ransom
the collective voice of the masked chorus urging them on wards
then the integrated tragedy of hidden fears and secrets
A living sacrifice under this bargain where no one wins or gains
without boundaries of mortal limits there exists in this gunmetal airless demise
unfettered woefulness and vainglory vie for victory
The innocent victim's now the pawn's forgotten as pride twists obscurities
severing the umbilical cord drowning breaths of existence
the sterile smell of unfinished lives permeating into the coal and ice
Tiny little footprints always remain's inside the womb's silenced facts
the living water of life breaks no longer flows through the natural cord
leaving a chorus of continuous phantom's chanting in mendacious unity
Opening the door of perdition where the tactical glare of a butchers knife
held under a ghostly specter of a child that might have been treasured
a face imagined but never seen and names never uttered
A tortured remembrance of a pardon held precious beauty once
soon the vapour of shame burns off in an emptiness that still remains
glazes over a ruby rare passion
Where fear & the constant loathing cannot fathom the uncertainties
this future brings forth in the immenseness of what might have been
not touching the soul properly
The unborn yet to speak?
silenced unadorned gone forever jewel's
always held within prayers of the faithful loving grace
a co written piece by Liam Mcdaid & Donna Loughman
Always Lamentable
You can run but you cannot hide!
For the face of God watches all
your fiddlings.
And is furious over baby killings.
You can write all the most
moving poetry you choose.
But you won't escape supporting
these pre-birth shreddings?
You really think you aren't
killing God's creations?
How diabolical to think human life
is but a doll, created by the Wal-Mart nation!
I urge all humans with a heart,
To allow these tiny ones, the chances you and I have.
To not be murdered, to live and
Be loved, instead.
Perhaps one day, be a poet
just like you.
To see the sun, moon and stars.
Insanity to save animals and trees.
But kill off humanity with such
joyous ease.
June 9, 2019
8:45am PST