Best Adamantine Poems


Premium Member A Promise To God (Co-Written With John Moses Freeman)

Come December 21, two thousand and twelve
On the winter solstice, mankind may burn in hell
As man's Creator, I've sent multiple warnings
Nostradamus, the Mayans, Hopi Indians
All believed there was still time to reverse this course
But My warnings have ceased, even My voice grows hoarse
 
     Dear Father, my sacred heart is of course willing
     Though mind be the enmity of Christ's blood spilling 
     My center most being, with Your spirit's all seeing
     The sacrifice of Your son saves souls of all beings
     Father, though slay my flesh, Thou hast immortal stash
     For Thou has the Adamantine, the adamant cash
 
This is not the response I expected from you
My warnings so long unheeded have made me blue
You are my children and I vow to save your souls
But to save your flesh, you will have to meet these goals
Let the evil wars end, allow nature to thrive
Cast aside all notions of greed to stay alive
 
     I shall heed with God speed to sow the righteous seed
     My love will manifest, for 'tis my soul's main heed
     I shall present my flesh body as this soul's alarm
     I shall not conform, from this world I shall transform
     Holy acceptably my receptacle sin free
     By my renewed mind transformed by Christ's mind shall be
 
I will spare your flesh if your words prove to be true
In turn, dire prophesies I promise to undo
Encouraged am I to hear you express remorse
It was never My wish to take action so coarse
To save body and soul, I sacrificed my Son
It has been My wish that all men will live as one

     Forgive Father, so shall I speak just this once more
      As Thou has given thus this world for to explore
     ‘Twas a parasite seed from derivative mind's greed
     Brought forth by chance, a wild branch, doeth Thou not concede
     Purgeth my wild branch of chance, ‘tis your right to do
     That I might pursue Your true vine, my love be true

Solar Plexus ( Sun of the Soul )

Solar Plexus  ( Sun of The Soul )

Tiphereth

Centre she holds the light
Connection to description
Concentration of all the names
Of beauty
Filtered from out pouring skies
Entrusted to perception
Before these provoking eyes

Solar Plexus
Third state consciousness
Her Aeon vibration
Calling
Proposition to ignite
The sleeping Chakra heart

Sol sustaining
The augury of hope
She proliferates
Never and forever
Changing
The coloured combination's 
Of living

Goddess of all she is

And without 
No acuity to perceive
The idylls
Of these convoluted explanations
Of existence
Of awareness

Face of creation
She is
All life’s attractions 
To her radiance and adamantine warmth
Exists
Beacon she is
Living cell of solar system
Embodies Galactic entity

And what unknown umbilical
Resounds to this magnitude
Of the ever eternal point
Centered
Touches this Galaxy of stars
Space Universal
Extends


Extends a phantom finger
Through the vast and the void veils
Extends a phantom finger
And somehow
Writes
And reads
These
Words





Inspired by Christie Moses “ Soul of The Sun “

Hold My Gaze In a Drop of Dew

There is nothing left of life
 that death cannot resolve,
 times velocity spins on stolen lips
 and minute pieces of adamantine
 pierce the edge of soles
 worn with pain 

---- 

Right here,
 Where night and dawn merge
 the membrane strains
 cleaving, as shade blackens blue
 for mere milli seconds

Standing in the hollows of night
 still, watching forever shimmering
 in the shadowed corner of my eye,
 I, me, always a curious creature
 swallow bricks and mortar
 tasting truth 

In my head an orchestra plays
 the symphonies composed of my life
 strings wring my heart with melodies
 wrought in pain and self-loathing
 shame and eventual surrender
 to the beat 

But,
 in the beauty of renewal
 in the peace of your reflections
 I've wondered at the universe
 memorizing the mysteries unsolved
 ever tantalized neurons smashed
 awakening ever and over again 

Sleep has been a foreign land
 settled by the fortunate
 longed for by the tortured
 spirits of my mind 

Yet in these dark magnificent galaxies
 when snores softly sigh in peace
 or monsters haunt your dreams,
 I have watched millennia of mourning
 shatter the promise of darkness evermore,
 I wondered as sunshine held a drop of dew
 and as light of hope captured the ghosts of night
 banishing them forevermore, or until nights edge 

I am a watcher and a teller of tales
 Singer of forbidden songs and tragedy,
 downtrodden, I rose to fight again and again
 with a schizophrenic mind harnessed
 within the beauty of a single star
 and the promise of humanity
 in the kindness of a strangers touch 

Now at the end of all journeys
 my final battle lays in that
 which I know not, shackled
 that foreign land whisks me away
 again and again, dreams cease
 as moisture rolls from my brow 

---

Slowly, slowly, slowly
 winding down into nothingness
 Gently, gently, gently
 I will lay down your cries of grief 

My words aren’t never-ending
 my breath will someday cease
 Yet true beauty and wonder lies
 in the wondrous infinity of peace

just look into these eyes overflowing with pain
 know !! there will be an end, even that shall ease ...


Premium Member Adamantine

I'm a lighthouse that has weathered violent storms;

         A tree still unfelled by the blows of an axe.

        Despite blows by life's battering ram, I am ...

                          quite adamantine.

          My faith is a chain that will never sever.

          My spirit, tantamount to a rubber band.

          Stretched, it returns to its original form.

                            It's adamantine.



STRAND PICK J,ANY THEME,ANY FORM Poetry Contest (Winner: 3rd Place)
Sponsored by Brian Strand
Date written: 04/28/2020

Premium Member Resilient Life-Altering Force

Written: April 6, 2024
                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

We dwell in the sanctuary of slumber.
Where stars fade away, light may encumber.
Oh, the comfort found in weak rays of light.
Do they disappear quickly as a passing night? 

Fireflies dance upon the summer's veil.
As winter jar embraces me, I stand pale.
Gazing at horizons, seeking a distant light,
Does it seek me, too? In the depths of night.

It softly murmurs, filled with a deep desire.
An intricate interplay of destiny and attire.
Does it hunt me down as well? 
It behaves as if it were a mild wind swell. 

Keeping hidden tales from the light.
Articulated with precision and clarity.
Seasons, adorned with heavenly sight.
Nature's pattern was weaved into parity.

In hues of gold and crimson blaze, 
A symphony of beauty, nature's praise.
Whispering gently, my name echoes. 
Through the corridors of time, it flows. 

A melodic refrain, gentle and sweet, 
In the realm of echos, our souls meet.
Bathed in a light embrace, 
Reaching optimum grace.

A speck emerges, sudden and small. 
Darkness that outshines them all. 
Oh, that ethereal glowing
A strange beauty, perfectly flowing.

Gravity, oh, how it strikes, high
With a force that no one can deny, 
It hits adamantine, with all its might.
A power that holds us tight.
© Sotto Poet  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Mayday Memories

As a child at play
In the merry month of May
Wallowing the hours away
As one would surely say

Lying neth old sweet gum tree…
sipping a glass of sassafras tea
A pork chop tied to my neck you see…
possibly the dog will play with me

The sky is my dominion galore… 
Blue infinity of divinity and more
A thunder head rumbles with a roar 
Childhood imaginations explore

Ole Brownie at my side
Constant companion abide
The heart of hog dog inside
Now roams heaven with pride

One day my own Adamantine
Will see again  this dog of esteem 
Many frayed earthly forms I’ve seen
And blossoms of May in beauty’s esteem
by John Moses Freeman


Premium Member Adamant Glitter

The glitter of everlasting Adamantine the tower of sunlight does 
not exceed its grandeur of brilliance. 

One of a variety immovable monument of stones thus stands its 
ability radiating from a white throne within the city of God. 

We shall see streets of gold as a city, a bride, adorned for her husband. 
Through twelve gates, we shall trod, on twelve foundations so holds 
four square, forty and four cubits, city streets of pure gold… 
liken to clear glass. 

The appeal is ethics natural beauty beyond measure, a Father’s desire 
to relate to the children of his pasture, the brilliance of a Son’s love. 

O` Adamantine of pure virgin, thy heart’s activity, bestow on me think 
again, with love’s brilliant character. 

For no glitter, of worldly adaptations of parasitic ego shall exceed the 
fixed sparkle of thy legal resources. Come hither, Thy holy glory, Thy 
Adamantine supreme, beam across the earthly machine, to the human 
minds of the gutter, so confident thy chaste outshining glitter. 

O` Adamantine, O Creator thy seed distinguished may I take a walk 
upon streets of gold in my new home. Manifest unto open eyes as to 
thy principles of press exposed new consciousness in the area in which 
I live. Apply appropriate align, outshine thus the rays of the sun for 
adamantine forever is author, develop a replenish.
==============================
Sponsor Nette Onclaud Contest Name GLOW OF GLITTER

By John Moses Freeman
 ad·a·man·tine
Definition of ADAMANTINE
: rigidly firm : unyielding  
These are scientifically proven and believed to be the very microscopic
building blocks of all mass. God particles are paranormal physical
evidence of God’s body of Spirit. One’s natural eyes can see
the glitter of these particles everywhere in masses of trillions
once one’s eyes are trained to see them.

Premium Member Self Wealth Deficit

Wealth of two masters…
`Tis an amazing thing
One mysteriously an illusion…
                                 Of the mind one is serpent

Though by the essence of the dove…
                                 And by the power of love
That the soul of love
In the power of the dove…
                                 Sows by the serpent of strife
                                 The armageddon in life

In a strait betwixt twain
Fearful to depart
Foolish to remain…
                                Remaining vain begets the twain

Illusions that are unstable
Pretending to be life
Borrowing from Able
Giving Cain his knife

                               Living below heaven’s glow
                               Spreading the dog show
                                borrowing from Dove…
True wealth of Love…
                                Deficit pretends that China…
Is from above

Illusions shall wane
Reality shall remain
Deficit illusions vain

`Tis faith of a kind…
                              True wealth of a Master mind…
                              True particles of heavenly Adamantine
==================================
“No man can serve two masters” 
“Mysterious Iniquity works self deficit”
 (Matt. 6:24) (II Thes. 2:7 KJV)
                                                Selah

Solar Plexus Sun of the Soul 2

Tiphereth

Centre, She, who holds the light
Connection abundant placed to description
Concentration, He, in all the names
Of beauty
Filtered from the through put out pouring skies
Entrusted to perception
Before these provoking eyes

Solar Plexus

Third state consciousness and invocation
Her Aeon vibration
Calling
These propositions to ignite
The sleeping mirror within the Chakra heart

Sol sustaining
The augury of hope ever renewed
She proliferates
Never and forever
Changing
The coloured combination's 
Of living

Goddess and God of all she is

And without 
There is no acuity to perceive
No idylls, idea’s, no breaths to breathe
No thoughts of these convoluted explanations
Of existence
No human birthed to conscious awareness

Face of creation
She is
All life’s attractions 
He makes
To their radiance and adamantine warmth
All know Earthly existence, flocks
Beacon He is
Light She is
The living cell of solar system
Embodies this the Galactic entity

And what unknown umbilical chord
Resounds to this magnitude
Of the ever eternal point
Centred
Touches this finite moment of stars
As spatial Universal
Extends

Extends their phantom finger She and He
And bright upon the next octave
Of spiritual reality
Through the vast and the void veils
Extends their phantom finger
And somehow
Through all the atoms and molecules
Through the dancing language
Wrote in within these plains of light 

Writes

And reads

These

Words

Premium Member Reparation - For Memorial Day

A bent knee ...

Cloaked in black nylon, a briny drop from
The smooth cheek, contingent baptism
For a closed hand, it's precious cargo,

Now consecrated by circumstance and
Fate, moments before this it was but
The root-stuff of weeds and worms,

Now the sacred repository for all words
Unsaid, all emotions unspeakable, all
Essences of parting. The earthy symbol

Of a concluded responsibility, elements
Of a soul displaced to the realm obliviate,
Gently fetched from the dark mound beside,

The loamy results of a somber chasm
Gouged from the grass like a war wound,
(Six feet deep). Hand trembling, the

Digits part and loose their dark cargo,
Meager clumps of rich soil tumble their
Way to the grave, bouncing into the

Somber cleft and clinking with little
Thumps on the polished wood vessel
Below, it's fine gold appointments glinting

Like sprites in the chill of mid-day brilliance.
A soft irregular drumming flows up from
The foramen as the soil reaches it's

Adamantine destination, like the sound
His fingers once made on the arm of
His favorite chair ... when impatience

Surged, or his twinkling eye anticipated
The regard of his beloved, her return
Gaze the reply to the soft cadence made,

Their furtive code to the corporeal
Reward to come. Countless such
Remembrances, now only JUST that.

This gentle thrumming made but sad
Sonance, a wordless requiem, final, the
Music of life and love shorn of it's sweet

Melody, divested and sacrificed to a
War half a world away, and a cause
And effort made as meaningless now

As the words just spoken, and the
Tear-stained hand, and the hallowed
Dirt set loose ...

To it's resting place.

Bronx Teacher 2010

153 Street Station is clean
Down sturdy metal steps through 
old Yankee Stadium field
where Ruth and Gehrig ran.

Pungent in the nostrils piss follows me
Up the hill where supers sweep trash 
from yesterday’s deals and conferences
Broom bucket hose black bags.

Mothers pull young children to school
Their Diego Rivera faces
Chisled by want from old world stone
Set in the new world promise.

                                                     Adamantine trek  no stopping

Climbing past the fortress courthouse 
Crowded Social Service building # 145 (meth clinic) 
Halal vendors hawking pastries
A lady with a cell to her ear in the lime green tracksuit shouts:
 “What the **** is he to me? 
If I can do what he do why do I need him to do what he do?”

Two young Black men in braids, swaying gold, 
Pants down low wide-striding in step as they go, 
“ Nigga says I got to stand a long time in that line.  Whose line?
That’s his line not my line.  
I ain’t standin’ in no long line”. 
“Word”. 

Crossing to the bodega on Morris Ave
where mi amor Juana takes my dollar twenty five 
for the Schweppes Lemon-Lime
brushing by the bacon-egg-and-cheese-kids
pigeons pecking dirt
Up three flights to room 322 where

                                                     Students ask for pencils
                                 while they tinker with the hardware on the windows.

Adamantine State

Pernicious weapons shall not devastate
An unvanquishable nation, an indestructible state
Lust for blood rips thousands’ bodies apart
Each slaughtered by a master of slaying art
Salvaged from inhumanity of humankind
They rise to Heaven for eternal peace of mind
Into the air, their invincible spirits float
“Never give up”, with their blood they wrote
Eternity will witness the victory we await
© Sarah M.  Create an image from this poem.

Tip of Your Nose

I knew that for me it was you 
that day I first spied your brown eyes, 
and my gray adamantine skies 
got all sparkly and soft and blue.  

I proposed the tip of your nose, 
with its little mounds and its dips, 
(it's the key to unlock your lips.)  
for where my very first kiss goes.  

I caught you alone as you paused 
one moment too long.  It landed 
with you off guard, as I planned it; 
but, wow! the wild heart beats that caused.  

My eyes weren’t closed and rolled 
they did when yours went big as plates.  
My head whipped back; that relates 
to how hard was your nose and cold.  

I knew right away my ‘amore’ 
wouldn't rate romance in your dreams.  
“I’m sorry," I said, "It seems…”  
But then you whispered, “Kiss me more.”
© John Smith  Create an image from this poem.

Way of Love

When love arose in your heart
Like a potent wave of a turbulent sea,
I remained in the seashore
Being the strongest boulders and pebbles,
Then people around praised my vigour,
My adamantine quality, and 
I made love to you; in every minute
Twice you kissed me, twice you
Fell in love with my virility.
At every night, in the midst of seclusion,
You would fill me with your brackish essence,
Did I love your fragrance.
But I knew not what dire love resided 
In your heart, I knew not
Ephemeral was my strength.
When your waves pounced upon me,
Receiving untold pleasure was I ravished,
I dwindled, I broke,
Day by day I have been reduced to
Infinitesimal sand.
Still you are as mighty as earlier,
And drown me with your torrents,
Dead.

Speak Ye Parts of Speech

sometimes they appear effusively ebullient
need curtailing, pruning
succinctness of clarity demands simple concepts
a fresh way to express tired vernacular
see contrasts that light and dark embody
simile is like a bridge, connecting this to that
ideas behind envisioned conditions
what is seen, what is known
cupid's arrow finding its mark
carefully selected properly place alliterations age
as fine wine, appreciating moments of the tongue
if cramped, forced to salute like a new recruit
become ill fitting as a six fingured glove
noticeable as a red light on easy street
onomatopoea telegraphs transparent thought
Ohhh, moment of culmination cry the lovers
adjust concepts, fit themes, clarify voice
say meaningful words of intuitive insight
gamble fearlessly, search for elusive quarries
loadstones of vocaulary
prized like adamantine crystals in kinberlite
you can have it all, heart's desire
etched tablets that tell of word's meaning
chisled till they're Rosetta stones

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