Best Crosses Poems
You never really knew the beauty of your soul.
Of how it is possible to be both old and young
within the same body that tells about the years past,
but can put to shame so many of today’s indolent youth.
How were you able to retain such innocence,
for only a child can categorically say such abhorrence
of one type of food even with the knowledge that it is good?
Yet words of deep understanding pour forth from the same mouth.
When the gift to listen was showered upon the earth
you must have paid attention, for you have it in abundance
“To hear is normal, to listen, a gift, to understand...a miracle”*
One who would care to keep these words would understand. You do.
You are sensitive. Who would have thought it so?
You have that amazing capacity to command words to your bidding
and just the right touch of irreverence to twist them when it suits you.
Still and all, you feel the wound deeply and I’d hate to be the cause of it.
I tried to look into your heart through your words.
Words which were already read by many before I entered the scene
yet they did not see the sadness, the dark that lurked in the corner of your light -
They were too mesmerized by the laughter, to see the crosses in your eyes.
*John W. Wulf, author of the book The Lady Who Loves the Whisper
___________________________________________________________
1. The Poetry Soup Poem of the Week - 02 August to 08 August, 2015
2. The Crosses In Your Eyes Contest - 3rd Place , 29 July 2015
Sponsor: Justin Bordner -
Kim Patrice Nunez
27 July 2015
They rise up before me, marbled stones like the stars
are embracing the evening, while they shatter the heart
Scattered fields, vast and somber, keeping silent the valiant
who have fallen so bravely, while forsaking the cost
Many names are forgotten, and some have been lost
New crosses still growing from the damp grass below me
I have lost count, as my eyes seek horizons
Reflecting on lives of the soldiers, unknown
Deeply I'm falling without knowing how far
Into the depths of the fields that have drawn me
Into reflection and asking the questions
That are tossed to the sky, without answers to why
My eyes can't believe all the sadness before me
I have lost count and my heart drowns in sorrow
Searching for reason, seeking answers, unknown
_________________________________________
7/15/15
Three crosses stood on a hill
The one in the middle is calling still
The "Blessing" he offered to one and all
To you he's offering his loving call
Rows and rows and rows of white crosses,
Like sentinels -stone-fixed to the ground.
The wind like a shroud wraps around them,
Enshrining each space where they're found.
Stone guardians stand at attention,
Into the distance -row after row.
O' mourn those hallowed internments,
Where our heroes are resting below.
Rows and rows and rows of white crosses,
With their numbers increasing with years.
And graves that are drenched by the weeping,
Will never run dry of our tears.
Now the soil is the dead's lonely blanket,
Below - and everlasting - at rest.
Those keepers -yes -all those white crosses,
Announcing -'Here lie the Best of the Best.'
Rows and rows and rows of white crosses,
All those warriors were yields of our lives.
And the harvest of what all wars cost us,
Are plowed under and nothing survives.
There is green lawn laid like a carpet,
That covers our heroes repose.
Outstreched are the arms of the crosses,
In a garden where nothing else grows.
1. Remember that first day we met?
I hadn’t hardly wakened yet
When I walked in the church’s wooden door.
Then I saw you beside a pew;
I hardly knew what I should do
So I stood firmly rooted to the floor,
(Chorus)
Because I saw the crosses in your eyes,
Reflecting in their depths that seemed to look through me.
And ever since that moment of surprise
You’ve meant everything to me.
2. A year flew by on fleeting wings,
In that same church exchanged our rings;
Tho’ I can’t recall a single word I said,
Or what I wore, or what I did.
All I recall is two eyelids,
And two eyes that I was looking at instead,
(Chorus)
Because I saw the crosses in your eyes,
Reflecting in that bluish-green I love so much;
And while I stared, and thought, and fantasized,
I realized our lips had touched.
3. When two more years had flown on by,
Remember when you knelt to cry
In the graveyard just down the grassy hill?
I led a brief and panicked search
Until I found you by the church;
There I stopped, and the whole world became still,
(Chorus)
Because I saw the crosses in your eyes;
The smallest one a chiseled cross so cold and grey.
I’d carved it for our daughter in the skies,
Who we’d only had a day.
4. The time has really ticked away,
That all seems just like yesterday;
Now I lie on a bed and will not rise.
But, Dearest, I’ll be doing fine
So long as I a window find
That will look to the churchyard from the skies,
(Chorus)
Because I’ll see the crosses in your eyes,
Reflected in the tears you’ll shed beside my grave.
And Sweetheart, just like I’ve done all our lives,
I will whisper, “Please be brave.”
5. And when you meet me there someday,
If there’s a cross where angels pray,
I will reach for your hand and take you there;
And as we kneel and fold our hands
I hope our Father understands
Why our eyes are wide open for the prayer—
(Chorus)
Because I’ll see the crosses in your eyes,
Reflecting from the pretty girl I love so much.
And all I hope is that I will realize
When our silent lips have touched…
Because I’ll see the crosses in your eyes,
Reflected from the pretty girl I love so much.
"Improvised, Noughts and Crosses"
points strung
pearls lacking
wisdom scattered
poetically,
of no large matter
rolling lost across a floor
stuck in the cracks
hidden in strange corners,
what do points matter;
when connected
unbroken,
the creative heart
improvised united,
becomes beautiful
more pure,
of some composed
great importance,
love like magic,
lifts the room
vibrating higher
by score
the lost pearls.
points wedged
in strange corners,
hear the sound
lifted, they
understand,
it all
improvised,
vibrating higher
by score
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
“Ben Folds & The Contemporary Youth Orchestra”
https://youtu.be/xMs3XoRM1LM
"Ben Folds and Contemporary Youth Orchestra Improvised Piece"
https://youtu.be/36MLAWaigM0
“One Angry Dwarf and 200 Solemn Faces”/Ben Folds Five
https://youtu.be/SrWSkQMWlAY
Wretched Stakes
I find in your eyes a mysterious universe
fraught with the searing scent of betrayal
and warped reflections of my reality
swirling in shadows of welling, yet un-shed tears.
Rummaging the tortured abyss for a glint of familiarity,
grasping to anchor myself in the alien terrain,
I'm awestruck by the requisite strength; your strength...
to survive among the crosses in your eyes.
Over the horizon a faint glimmer defies the gloom.
A hopeful star, fading but stalwart,
screams for love as it grapples the swallowing deep.
At last, I fathom the wretched stakes.
07/26/15
Submission for Contest: The Crosses in Your Eyes
Hosted: Justin Bordner
Three crosses upon a hill; three men killed.
The middle One_Saviour of the lost world
Gave His precious blood of His own free will.
Salvation for everyone that was God's will.
How God' heart wept as His Son was killed
By sinful human beings of this world.
God created a beautiful clean world.
Sin came in by man's stubborn, prideful will.
All our rebellion_His precious Son killed.
Sin killed; but the Son won the world; this was God's will
Sponsor: Andrea Dietrich
Contest: Introducing Tritina( a new poetry form for you!)
Written this 26th day of February 2013
Gravestones, white crosses
bone-chill breaths of old ghosts, stirs-
Dried, blood-red poppies.
Three Crosses
The Virgin mary was sitting down one day
With a gold book in her hands. JESUS came
by that day and asked her - What are you
doing with that gold book in your hands?
She answered, I am here - I can't eat and I
can't sleep. Days ago I had a dream, that three
crosses stood high on Mount Calvary. On the tallest
and most beautiful - I saw your body nailed there.
JESUS smiled and said, it must not be. You were only
having a dream - for my life here will never end. Whoever
says this prayer three times a day, to the doors of HEAVEN
they will arrived and the doors of HELL will forever stay behind...
03/07/2014
written by Lucilla M. carrillo
beneath this iron maiden
lies three wooden crosses
such tragedy comes to those
with their life losses
fourteen fifteen and sixteen
even in the backseat a beauty queen
mother told them not to go
father told them to take it slow
waving goodbye off they went
riding on tires with a wheel thats bent
out comes the beer and the weed
being such fools tossing around the seeds
ran a stop sign just up the road
got smashed by a trucker hauling a load
spun the car into a lamp post
now three bodies linger around as ghost
but the beauty queen did survive
by wearing her seatbelt and thanks god shes alive
Please Talk To Your Kids
Drinking And Driving Dont' Mix
And Alway's Remember That Seatbelt
Down deep in Dixie
We have long heeded his call
(And still pay the price)
...For Abe Lopez's picture contest of Dr. Martin Luther King
( FIFTEEN CROSSES )
I had a dream I was kneeling, at fifteen crosses on the hill
Not a whisper from the trees, everything was still,
I felt a sadness in my heart, an empty kind of pain,
Fifteen souls had gone away, only memories remained.
I tried to cry out to ease my grief,
Lifted my hands to heaven, prayed God's relief.
Not a sound or a word, emptiness abounds,
My sorrow overcoming, I began to drown.
Such bitter suffocation, I wish someone could hear,
Why we let this happen , in my dream nothing was clear.
I shook my fist to heaven and begged for reasons why,
But only silence spoke, offering no reply.
No sound came from my lips even as I screamed,
I prayed it's just a nightmare, an awful kind of dream.
Then I heard a choir of angels beckoning from above.
"The world is reaping hatred,"
"Because the world's not sowing love."
"You should embrace each other's differences no matter what they may be,"
"And enlighten each other with the hope of peace and unity."
When the angel finished speaking, she ended with a sigh,
Gazing down at fifteen crosses of fifteen souls who said goodbye.
Then the heavens opened up, the angels giving way,
up to the gates of heaven, Amazing grace began to play.
And as they left this Earthly realm the angels were downhearted looking
back at fifteen crosses of the recently departed.
A soft rain began falling, but no cloud was in the sky,
Then Jesus whispered to me, "This is how the angels cry."
(c) Jasmine Paul 11-20-2014 ( Columbine High School Tribute )
Milieu iconography with flashing lights
Smokey gambling rooms—gang wars
Flashy suits and fedora hats in the fights
Neon signs flashing—this world is yours
Hey, get a name with the next phone call
Surely, he can’t really be all that rough
While hanging out in a flower shop stall
Like bowling pins fall he wasn’t tough
Whistling “Chi Me Frena?” surreal assassin
As Shamrock night club they all shot up
Coin flipping henchman hell risky brazen
Bang—he won’t sip St. Peter’s golden cup
Crosses on bodies from iconic gun blast
Even barking dog can’t stop the tragedy
Tony’s sister like a baby’s toy dances at last
Just seems like a wild circle of comedy
Wearing a scar as one from the war
Nation’s shame 1932 gangsters shown
Killing people to take over, what for?
Whistling assassin your life is blown
© Joseph, 5/29/08
© All Rights Reserved
Honorable Mention
Super Slueth Contest
Fun Free verse on Movies
Sponsor: John Heck
Fields of France are filled with blood-red poppies
Where also bloom the lily-white crosses:
Each buried youth a seed, now bursting forth
Into a stark white cruciform flower:
Row upon row, rank after serried rank,
A spiky grid overlying acre
After acre in silent panoply,
Swan-mute as stillborns, yet shrieking their pain.
A century has failed to lay their griefs.
But such gardens aren’t anywise unique.
On every continent, in every age,
The fields are sown: and so among the trees
And forests, steppes and prairies, cities
And wastelands, the precious seed is planted,
The harvest bitter in its barrenness.
Instead of poppies, palms or rank lianes,
Brush or tundra, timber, sedge or seaweed
Grow where crosses never got to flower:
Even those gaunt reminders are missing
To give their witness to the seed thus sown,
The sacrifice and sacred blood there spent.
And so it goes: so it’s been since people
First appeared. And will go on: tomorrow
And the day after, still the sowing will
Continue. Perhaps someday our wisdom
And compassion may grow enough to wean
Us of this savage, mindless husbandry:
Today, it seems a thousand years away.