Best Curtain Poems
Hang the curtain from the clasps and place the ark of the covenant law behind the curtain. The curtain will separate the Holy Place from the Most Holy Place.
Exodus 26:33 NIV
The curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom.And when the centurion, who stood there in front of Jesus, saw how he died, he said, “Surely this man was the Son of God!”
Mark 15:38-39 NIV
It was now about noon, and darkness came over the whole land until three in the afternoon,
for the sun stopped shining. And the curtain of the temple was torn in two.
Luke 23:44-45 NIV
At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open. The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life.
Matthew 27:51?-?52 NIV
Therefore, brothers and sisters, since we have confidence to enter the Most Holy Place by the blood of Jesus, by a new and living way opened for us through the curtain, that is, his body, and since we have a great priest over the house of God, let us draw near to God with a sincere heart and with the full assurance that faith brings, having our hearts sprinkled to cleanse us from a guilty conscience and having our bodies washed with pure water.
Hebrews 10:19?-?22 NIV
We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where our forerunner, Jesus, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek.
Hebrews 6:19?-?20 NIV
Thank you Jesus for tearing the curtain
Which gave one a way to return to God
Oh how God let it be known
That Jesus was the one God sent
That we might receive your promise
Of the Holy Spirit within to teach
No longer killing animals not to satisfy
But through Jesus sacrifice
Birthed forth all pains of the world into
A new covenant with a lighted path
To bring the joy and peace of a newborn
To be nourished from the divine
Not of the foods which spoil
May God bless, comfort, guide and
Fill you with His peace, love, spirit and joy in abundance
Blissfully ignorant and supine,
Lost in the economy line,
voters don’t have a clue
that liberty is through.
Apathy dictates all else is fine.
People keep telling me how foolish I am,
but frankly I don’t give a dam.
I’m going to tell you what I see.
You don’t have to agree with me.
In hatred’s name Moslems prayed at the mosque,
boarded planes and three thousand we lost,
Soon we elected a Moslem president,
his books words and actions self evident.
To prove he was islam’s extremist hero,
He allowed a triumphant mosque at ground zero,
Freedom of religion is what they subtly called it,
by a government that continues to overhaul it.
The American people look on as if still numb,
singing his praises as if deaf and dumb,
while a pseudo democratic uncle Sam,
in a forced health care plan,
continues to turn out liberty’s lights
by destroying other religion’s rights.
Thus the American people’s democracy,
is morphed into a dictatorial hypocrisy.
While blindsided by a frantic economy,
we apathetically lose our autonomy.
Allowed by deaf and blind voters in a loud voice,
Fooled by not freedom but license they call choice,
sly appointment of people who fulfill the plan,
A long range one by the “new” Uncle Sam.
a champion of abortion, killing future contenders
him and Herod; another of the great pretenders.
“Enlightened Americans have one point two children per family,
because of abortion, birth control and contraception
Moslems have seven; which is the anomaly?
We Americans treat babies as an infection.
Laugh if you wish; I’m just exposing the path,
You “enlightened” Americans: you do the math.
While snowflakes continue to fall,
upon a night pale as ghostly winter
I falter from my own distraught pause--
the hazy moon watches my young girl
a serene angel laying in starshine, on a bed
frigid cold with her tiny body
wrapped in fine linen and pink bonnet:
I could still recall her pupils tightening,
while through glimpses silent, my own mouth
utters, ' fight, my dear one, fight!'
Yet, her last gasp escapes a frozen outline,
those eyes blinking restlessly up high
as my fallen gazes droop at her gaunt form --
How this heart cleaves till screams rack
my own body with convulsive, inconsolable
anguish: this route to a thievish doom
makes me seethe, slam, screech at life
for my child's unborn dreams ...never to fly, ever.
It rains and a mantle of tears drown
upon her skin, my face in endless whys--
as I howl with night birds for the villainy of time.
Verses of Metaphors 3- RHYME OR FREE VERSE ONLY
Sponsor: Lu Loo
04.26.2019
Parched and dry, this barren field stretches,
I wander, head hung low,
staring at the emptiness eclipsing my thoughts
Brittle blades of grass disappear beneath
my worn out sneakers,
black and white crushing beige
in slow fashioned footprints of blistered dust
“My sanity for some cool water”
When upon my shoulders, reddened by solar intensity,
wet from exerted energy, comes a breeze
as if Autumn has come to claim her colors,
to gather her brown and sepia landscape,
pull the lifeless trees, with little leaf
from the chalk textured ground taking it
where it would suit another, for this is my luck
"Take my shade I beg not, for it is merely a branch”
Like fingers of a silken web’s reach,
a soft caress of skin is not understood, though very pleasant
Nature finds me a shiver, a small comfort in this arid place
once crawling with snakes of assorted length, now
green as if lush has just been defined
with sweet air and pomegranate skies featuring a glow,
pristine shades of which I’ve never seen, heavenly
“To whom might I thank for such a gift?”
When before me stands, my eyes saturated and lost
slowly focus on beauty, winged loveliness now smiling within my own
personal oasis, which quickly forms in my heart
An angel, a goddess, extends a hand to me?
My cracked and weathered palm touches, smooth, gentle
her hand as she lifts me, I am weightless, floating
to her, my breath leaves me as I wonder, is this my end?
“If this beauty shall be my final curtain, let it be dropped slowly”
A voice of velvet speaks, as I fade in and out of reality,
now steadied by her touch and the sweet scent of lavender and lime
“I have come to you as a verse, for poetry is thy keeper,
thy words have been heard,” lyrical this voice sings
melodic and harmonious, a rhythm to the beat of my heart,
the race of my pulse, the love of my life, my muse, my all
“Eternal to you I shall write, for your beauty fuels my pen”
*I feel this poem speaks of poetry, the reason we are all here. To find and share our muse, to be inspired and grow together in poetry. It also was a step out of my comfort zone for me as this was an early write of mine where I tried a few new ideas.
The curtain of pain fell upon us as we stood,
at his tomb and snow kissed our quivering lips;
my voice was lead and it seemed I was made of wood,
the air cold chilled and I recall a wind that whips.
Pulling my raven hair like a flowing river,
tangles entwined and I could not help but quiver;
the scar on my soul was bleeding for my baby,
would I ever love like this again- m a y b e . . .
That moment was to be a shadow on the wall of time,
and our sorrow a vine that will forever climb;
I stood sobbing in this place of decaying- apart,
from my husband who was stone etched to his heart.
Never again would he smile at me with unbidden joy,
the drums of our life rolled and ceased on that day;
alone- I would be the one bringing roses for our baby boy,
for from that day my husband was a man made of clay.
Then, the clouds sailed across the sky as I stood weeping;
when he left me one winter day - for his forever sleeping.
___________________________________
April 18, 2019
Poetry/Rhyme/The Curtain of Pain Fell Upon Us
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1135-713-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Verse of Metaphors 3
sponsor, Lu Loo, Inspiration #3 Image
First Place
No encore demanded, I stand alone
No applause as I hang up my ‘microphone’
But what do they care, for no empty chair
Has ever acknowledged good tone
I took to this stage in a different age
I think then, the Stones were the rage
Yet, I’ve appeared here, daily for years
And sung like a songbird uncaged
But this, my last bow, arthritic now
Elicits no ‘Bravo’ or ‘Wow’
I gave it my best, my stage put to rest
A field I can no longer plough
For fifty years hired, tomorrow retired
This caretaker? No longer required
So thanks for the chance, to sing and to dance
Enacting the dreams I desired
My time to go, my time to rest
The silence now, inside my chest
Applause resounds, my lights go down
I take my leave, where I lived best
.
The flower’s image before me
stares
So overwhelmed by the splendor
my fingers become
agitated
restless
frantic
and what spills
sears mine slip
stunning sky blue decorate
the sylphs eyes
clustered blond tresses ornament
her soft Caucasian flesh
to her hips
leading this soul’s gaze to those
naked distended lips
The poet pining for this
petite nubile miss
A Curtain of Rain
By Valerie D. Staton
A curtain of rain
Fell from graphite colored sky…
Cars are floating by
The curtain in my room is pale yellow,
With unique embroidered golden leaves on it,
My mother lived in this room for a little while,
And unknowingly left a bit of her,
for ever!
She told me, she loved the curtain.
Waking up at the first light of ruby dawn,
When sky is mesmerizing with shades of vermilion,
She used to gaze at the enthralling golden leaves,
And ponder about every one she cherished in her life,
Each enigmatic leaf reminded her
Of each of her beloved ones.
She prayed for them,
With inimitable tenderness, whispering,
Uttering each and every name,
Each and every person precious in her life,
And in the end,
The names were countless!
The Yellow Curtain still hangs there.
May 23, 2020
FIRST PLACE - In Loving Memory Contest
Sponsor: Regina Riddle
FIRST PLACE
"Mother" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
"The Throwback Challenge" Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Natasha L. Scragg
SECOND PLACE
Featured Poem: April 12, 2021
I wrote this poem after my mother came to visit me in Canada, and stayed for a few months. I used to see her praying every morning, and one day she told me about the embroidered flowers on the curtain. This is the second poem I wrote in my life - the first one is "Dreams" (posted as first on Soup Page) - after I lost my mother, and knew she would never come back to that room. This was the beginning of my poetic journey. I realized, Poetry was my path.
The winds breathe in evenings soul of darkness,
And night comes trailing a gown, black and velvety;
Inky i n k y black, deeply mysterious and moonless,
An endless canopy;
A deathlike silence,
A nightingale song calls;
Somewhere a night owl hoots,
hoot hoot h o o t HOOT . . .
Lucid silence,
A quiescence.
N I G H T- a time for prayer and for weeping,
The spirit of darkness comes creep c r e e p i n g;
In the quietness and stillness my sleepy eyes close,
And I pull the curtain of . . . . repose
____________________________
June 13, 2016
Poetry/Verse/The Curtain Of Repose
Copyright Protected, ID 16-800-095-0
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
For the contest, Night Silence
sponsor, Nayda Ivette Negron
Third Place
The cotton runs high in the Taliban sky
Resistance continues, into the south.
I watch nightly news with a heavy sigh
Not letting judgments escape from my mouth.
I see the pain that rues life for the same
For their families each suffer loss too.
For those seeking revenge or seeking fame
They know not what damage to souls they do.
Children need to come first, not the adverse
In a sinful will that tears life apart.
Bless all who try to obtain a reverse
That fight for God's light that dwells in their heart.
May love spread throughout in pink healing light
That peace may finally dwell with insight.
4-28-19
some bright sequins of fun shined amidst dull threads of routines... art time none
Who knew the exact time and how
The day came for my play's final bow?
The span was compact
I ran for just one act
The encore - now as sacred cow
`
Parched and dry, this barren field stretches,
I wander, head hung low,
staring at the emptiness eclipsing my thoughts
Brittle blades of grass disappear beneath
my worn out sneakers,
black and white crushing beige
in slow fashioned footprints of blistered dust
“My sanity for some cool water”
When upon my shoulders, reddened by solar intensity,
wet from exerted energy, comes a breeze
as if Autumn has come to claim her colors,
to gather her brown and sepia landscape,
pull the lifeless trees, with little leaf
from the chalk textured ground taking it
where it would suit another, for this is my luck
"Take my shade I beg not, for it is merely a branch”
Like fingers of a silken web’s reach,
a soft caress of skin is not understood, though very pleasant
Nature finds me a shiver, a small comfort in this arid place
once crawling with snakes of assorted length, now
green as if lush has just been defined
with sweet air and pomegranate skies featuring a glow,
pristine shades of which I’ve never seen, heavenly
“To whom might I thank for such a gift?”
When before me stands, my eyes saturated and lost
slowly focus on beauty, winged loveliness now smiling within my own
personal oasis, which quickly forms in my heart
An angel, a goddess, extends a hand to me?
My cracked and weathered palm touches, smooth, gentle
her hand as she lifts me, I am weightless, floating
to her, my breath leaves me as I wonder, is this my end?
“If this beauty shall be my final curtain, let it be dropped slowly”
A voice of velvet speaks, as I fade in and out of reality,
now steadied by her touch and the sweet scent of lavender and lime
“I have come to you as a verse, for poetry is thy keeper,
thy words have been heard,” lyrical this voice sings
melodic and harmonious, a rhythm to the beat of my heart,
the race of my pulse, the love of my life, my muse, my all
“Eternal to you I shall write, for your beauty fuels my pen”
What I don't know; exactly what you expect to find
It matters not; I leave authenticity behind
Low, for all of the beautiful light that falls on me
Lonesome I can not help but weep; intrinsically,
Outside sadness; many rings inside internally
Woeful my grove; but it is spectacular to see
Take me down to the ground; such strength in gravity
Reveal to me; all your deepest, melancholy
Emotionally; thrown at me without a mind
Enter my soft curtain; a solid trunk you'll find