Best Ashes To Ashes Poems
A Beckoning finger glides her flight
tasting the wind,
to gather insight
Lifting her arms tendril-ed to light
drifting in feeling,
is darkness and fright
Soaring to plains,knights had fought
in helmets and headstones
her passion is wrought
A Flaming phoenix,re-birthed no more
A splendor embers
to ash on the floor
Wizards are slain and witches dispelled
majestic they hung,
to final death knells
Screams of mercy,rip into heart
calling the magic,
dirt caged in part
Exquisite white witch dripping with love
trembling her spirit,
watched from above
Releasing her power A dragon breath pales
kaleidoscoped magic,
lifting dark veils
Four elements drawn earth,wind and fire
water poured forth,
soaking a pyre
Earth stamped evil beneath his sin
wind settled hell,
the flames did rescind
Dusted of tragedy,on hallowed ground
sucking black magic,
in gasps that resound
Echoing Demons,soaking with shame
anviled to stone,
now have no name
Fire burnt mercy back into heart
myths of history,
now live the past
Drifting in peace,a witch found rest
laying her head,
is all she requests
I find myself at times in my life,
at a turning point- which way do I go?
and I always returned to the foothills
Searching for an inkling of a feeling of home
Long after the farm had been foreclosed on
Sad, as I watch the cattle now in the pasture-
where my Dad and granpas markers and ashes lay
~ashes to ashes dust to dust~
From ashes
she rises,
absolving
cleansing,
face, hands, feet.
Four months,
Ten days,
She mourns.
She weeps.
She clothes herself now
in an adornment of white
bowing privately,
praying fervently,
as bitter fumes
of acetone
seep beneath the door.
Her source is god.
Her destination is god.
She pleads with god now
for peace
As men mix and pour
A holocaust
Just outside her door.
Her sisters wail.
They bathe her lifeless arms
And shroud her
as Iris Albicans-
Exotic,
Fragile,
Pure.
The imam, he stands,
Praying silently
As men convey her
towards Mecca.
From ashes to ashes
And dust to dust.
From ashes to ashes
And dust to dust.
WORLD NOT AS DIRTY
AS ALL POLITICAL GAMES
WAR, BURY SOLDIERS
6/10/15
ASHES TO ASHES
If all of me sums up a to a pile of smoldered ash...
Then all of me could fit into a glass;
If that's all I amount to on this earth,
I pray my soul finds everlasting worth.
Who Jah bless let no man curse?
Ashes to ashes – dust to dust.
Afraid of the fiery lake, will God open up the gate?
Pray, I did not wait up too late.
to say forgive what I've done wrong.
…I can tell when the Almighty has my back.
I can tell when he intervenes …
Like today when I called the bank.
And no one ever called me back.
The statement stated, an overdraft.
Yet South Africa had a cyclone draft…
Media said 150 people died.
My friend Ann said…” that’s a lie”
More like 10000's lost their lives.
Frantically I called back the bank again,
To ask about the overdraft they sent.
Worried I had overspent;
To my surprise, they said: “there’s none”.
I said why did you send this notice? She said:
“the day it was sent money came in”
I said. “oh my God”: “You are still my friend”.
I asked no more questions I just said a prayer…
About God sending me money out of nowhere.
Trying hard to keep my nose clean… while here
I want to amount to more than just dust.
On this wretched earth
I don’t want to slack before I die,
Don’t want to be cast into the eternal fire…
Don’t want to worry about my spiritual deficit.
Paying my dues, while I am on earth…
I pray my soul finds favor in the afterlife where it counts-
More than mere dust do I want to amount…
As I sing my eternal dirge…
Continue to shine your light on my feet, I urge.
If all of me sums up a to a pile of smoldered ash...
Then all of me could fit into a glass;
If that's all I amount to on this earth
I pray my soul finds everlasting worth.
Ashes to ashes and rust to rust,
The Scarecrow and the Tin-Man, must
Have known what fate would come their way,
That fateful hour, that fateful day,
Into ashes to ashes and rust to rust.
They saw the writing on the wall,
Although it looked more like a scrawl,
Yet each one chose to take a stand
To find out who was the better man,
Now ashes to ashes and rust to rust.
Their tempers flew with fist to fist,
For Dorothy's hand, they both had kissed,
And asked the girl to marry them,
Now both would lose, and none would win,
With ashes to ashes and rust to rust.
"You have no brain" - "You have no heart",
And with that friction, caused a spark,
The Scarecrow melted down to ash,
The Tin-Man stumbled with a crash,
Now ashes to ashes and rust to rust.
Through wet and cold, the Tin-Man lay,
Upon the ground is where he stayed,
For many nights and many days,
And then the tin just rusted away,
Into ashes to ashes and rust to rust.
The Scarecrow, now a pile of soot,
No longer had a head or foot,
Just dirty dust is what he was,
Misfortune in the Land of Oz,
Just ashes to ashes and rust to rust.
Though many stories could be told,
Of some so brave and some so bold,
The saddest that was ever read,
Was Tin-Man's heart and Scarecrow's head,
Turned to ashes to ashes and rust to rust.
Since she died, I have to build
a makeshift funeral pyre
to burn up all the secrets told
her letters lit afire
I read them through before I do
the funny, sweet and shocking
things she shared when we were kids
vicious flames now mocking
Their heat distorts my vision
with a wavering in the air
as I quell my indecision
and try hard not to care
Though it hurts, I cannot hold
on to what would become twisted
misunderstanding things she told
of what her life consisted
So many clever bits and pieces
of lovely sisterhood
slow the savory memory releases
things unspoken yet understood
Now tearing into tiny fragments
salvaging what I can
I burn and die a little as I
throw them in the can
For on this makeshift funeral pyre
I offer my sacrifice
and 'though I know- it's loyal and true
I feel I'm losing her twice
Like vicious beast, the blazing flames
are licking, burning with poison tongue
eating memories accumulated
when my heart was free and young
A smoldering within my soul
now singed, and seared, and scorched
feeling somehow less than whole
my heart a wasteland, barren torched
Too many thoughts tabulated by one soul
Repairing broken hearts like clockwork
Working the night like the day was a gift
Sunshine wandering off into distant deserts
Could I be right?
Could I be wrong?
Unsettled and uncomfortable
Relaxing into life
Falling gently into imagination
Taken away to future places
Future lives
Future loves
Excitement takes over the unsettled thoughts
Aspiring to be better
To be complete
Not fixing
Nothing is broken
Piecing together a lost hope
Sliding the puzzle into place
Slowly but surely
The sun will not distant
The sun will wake like I with a smile
Broken hearts will become the past
Thoughts wont be tabulated
Thoughts will be embraced
The day and night
Everything in between
Fulfilled
They can't have the Ashes trophy so they have a cup,
it's becoming irritating as they're trying to catch up,
there's nothing you can say, all out at the end of the day,
square leg in a round hole, not suitable some might say.
It looks like Sodom and don't worry about Gomorrah,
they won't listen, told to grow up when you rebuke them;
when the population dies out you may be needed again,
perhaps then you will know you will never be the same.
You can't procreate, no IVF so adoption, so a problem,
you've moved the goalposts, now playing between them;
you went to school - so didn't you learn anything there?
we don't like latent desire so we'd rather not really care.
Did someone say 'inappropriate' but you said it, not me,
I hope that you're happy and exactly where you'd like to be.
Ash Wednesday, one day to reflect
why Christ our souls would resurrect.
Good it is to be in accord,
time spent in fasting and prayer,
repenting of sin and despair.
Good that forgiveness is implored,
not fearing fickle consequence
or flaunting lack of confidence.
Good, relationships are restored
between servant and the Master,
triumph instead of disaster.
Good is one day spent with the Lord.
Ash Wednesday, one day to reflect,
any Wednesday in retrospect.
Better to find a church with worth
where daily friends will help you cope
worshiping One who brings new hope.
Better for you God’s truth unearth -
studying the Scriptures with friends,
learning God’s wisdom never ends.
Better to know in wealth and dearth,
your faith in God is paramount;
and circumstances do not count.
Better any day to, discern your re-birth.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust!
Best of all, our Creator God -
Daily, He is loving and just.
Best of all, our Savior Jesus -
Every hour, One you can trust.
Best of all, indwelling Spirit -
Each moment helps us readjust.
Ashes to ashes, dust to dust!
Steadfast holiness is a must.
written May 11, 2018
A devoutly religious man once said to me, "Everything you touch turns to dust when it should be turning into gold!" Afterwards I thought to myself, "Has he really forgotten that it is written, 'Ashes to ashes, dust to dust'?" So now I'm left wondering: was he criticizing me or God?
Lost
truth
That life
is naught but
a sequenced pattern
that finishes where it began
~FJ Thomas
Ashes to ashes… dust to dust…
We begin as a tiny cell and die with our remains turning into
little brittle specks of dust. All of our existence ends with our
bodies melting into the earth churning with the clay. We live for
love, we die in peace and through our journey we are taken
through distant lands of free will. We eventually become one
with mother nature, what had been intended so long ago.
Ashes to ashes…dust to dust…
Though the earth offers air for our lungs and ground for our feet,
it also offers a place of rest. That place is where everyone resides
after they perish. We become one with each other and in our final
resting place, we all share the same memories. Those of love. Those
of pain. Those of sorrow. Those of joy. Even those who have lived the
hardest of lives all carry some sort of happiness at one time or another.
Those who have lived the easiest of lives still carry some sort of grief at
one time or another. We feed off hunger and our bones eventually
turn to dust.
As our bodies pass, death is a must-
We all turn into ashes…
we all turn into dust.
March 22, 2017
"Ashes to Ashes"
He was here and now hes gone
Yes to start a new
I miss you already friend
Know I will see you again...
Why speak
when words become weak
and everything you want is in the darkness
and you are forever alone
Happiness will never meet you
and your prince will never seek you
You will die unknowing
from your heart with blood flowing
Beating and pumping
all of your life into nothing
You'll be a stain on the soil
until dust in the face of turmoil