Best Devastations Poems
Dear Lord. I know that every day has 24 hours blessed with sun, moon, and stars. Yet, every day, many people barely survive and others who starve
I know that every Christmas many will buy, buy, and buy; many will give, give, and give. Yet millions will be penniless, familyless, homeless; many will
beg, hoping only just to live. I know that our world brings joy and grief, cold
and heat, sowers and reapers, sorrow and pain. Yet there are those among us
who are careless, heartless, and live daily only to cheat and to gain. The
destructive forces of nature do not know the difference between Christmas and
other days. For lack of heat, hurricanes might cease, but will not halt at the site of our stop signs or even delay.
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Dear Father God, realizing all these things are true and that neither I nor my fellow humans are any match for Mother Nature, please grant Planet Earth
this Christmas Season a season free of massive and destructive earthquakes like the one in Haiti a few years ago. Let any small earthquakes that might
occur not be strong enough to trigger a large tsunami like the one in Indonesia a few years ago. Let your comfort and peace surround those in California who
have lost so much. Many escaped the fire only with the clothes on their backs, not to mention their lost loved ones. The sister of a friend in our church
perished in the Paradise fire. By the way Lord, I thank you for the rain that came to my region in Northern California about two hours ago. And Oh Dear
Lord, as you very well know, time will not allow so great a list of terrorizing
perils. There have been countless devastations the world over. My Heavenly
Father, I will not ask for more at this time; and I ask these things in the Name of your Son Jesus Christ. Amen.
11212018PoSoupContest, Christmas Mourning, P.S. Awtry
Finding your way out of places... You never meant to go... No...
You never meant to choose that path... Eventually...
Opening your eyes... Seeing the mistakes you have made...
And realizing... The pain... When you find the things you have...
And given up... The things you have destroyed...
and the things you just let die... It is impossible to fathom...
The devastations you feel... Sadly...
The agony of realizing your own needs...
Of how you just try to Self-Destruct!
Form:
She has a pair of subtle eyes to brood in forlorn,
the vile tale of heart rending cacophonic dissolution.
Those eyes were meek, never crude
to yearn the ties of proximity longed!
Those meek adorable eyes have endured
the absolute phases of reckless decimation:
have witnessed the brutal armageddon
of its plunderers desolation,
who have thwarted her genial expectations!
She has those mystic musing eyes
to impulse in pensive disposition,
an amiable abode of assured assertion,
to recreate the invisible affable bonding of elation;
a placid reciprocating ambience of virtuous relation:
has flair for the protection, the care, the infallible affection,
despite, those hands' propensity for imprudent desolation!
Those pair of sober eyes longed to thrive in composure and attention; in delectation,never in aversion!
Oh! what a horrific sight, with the axes in the hands,
the slayers and usurpers of its tranquil serenity
are waiting like sordid savages for her dire extinction!
Her latent moistened eyes are witnessing the march of those executioners:
are sobbing in utter horror and dismay,
cursing and shrieking quietly her non kinetic endeavours,
to conserve the sacred entity in virgin forests; pristine,
from the unscrupulous callous ventures of the predators.
She has those whimpering eyes to foresight;
to remind the dire repercussions
of dereliction of reckless deviations;
Are wailing and mourning in utter seclusion,
the ceaseless thumps of the usurpers' annihilation.
Those Pair of Latent Eyes are Nature's Eyes, neither vague, nor obscured:
silently screeching and watching,
the relentless heedless ravagers' devastations,
Not yet any restoration, despite beseeching imploration,
needless to predict, will reveal in various manifestations!
Covered in the jungles evergreen thickets, beneath
Stones and mortars refuge lays an old Mayan crypt,
And on it is written an ancient curse, dare not enter
Mortal men, or forsake thy living soul, as tributes
Offering at the altar, of the Arachnid Queen.
At midnight's twilight hour, under the moon's elliptical
Shroud of illusions, is exposed isolation's
Forbidden tomb of evil.
As torches spontaneously combust, bursting forth
Into flame, slowly the grave stone rolls backwards,
Releasing the cold and damp air from within.
Emerging from her unholy tomb, this spider demon,
Inhales the crisp night air at last.
A creature is she the Arachnid Queen, of devils
Spawning between her father of darkness,
And a fallen angel of spiritual light.
Weep do the cherubs of heaven, at her birthing's ritual, for
One of their own was so sacrificed, shackled and chained,
Treated as if an animal of disdain, the Arachnid Queen,
Clawed her way forth, from her mother’s maternal womb.
As a gifts prize from the dark lord, unto his child
Born from the darker side, is the deadly touch of death itself.
To kill without mercy, with accuracy's pin point efficiency,
For she bares no heart or souls pity.
A phantom of mist is she, without definitions form, slowly
She crosses under the forest canopy, and one by one the
Veils of webbing descend, upon her from above. As her
Minion guardians do weave, each delicate sheath's covering.
Revealing a skeletal shape beneath, exposing a beast of
Monstrous proportions, behold her eight legs appendages
Of a spider.
But above is beauty personified, shimmering as a goddess
Of ebony black, with eyes the color of sea foam, and red
Flaming tresses that blow freely in the flowing breeze.
With the voice of an angel, she so sings ever sweetly,
This is the gift of her fallen mother, to entice the lustful
Hunger within all men, to devastations final end.
Waving her teasing finger at them, come hither
My love sick fellow and I'll mend your broken heart,
And so do they come, unto the Arachnid Queen.
Entering her webbing's layer, she takes her crimson
Throne of the dammed, laughing with pleasures sheer
Delight, for tonight she shall feast upon the flesh and blood,
Of living men, and revel in their screams of pain.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
You are still keeping heavy arms,
You did not stop explosive devastations,
The Earth is clamings trials – not once,
Have troubled vital forces for whole Nature,
United Nations orders been ignored,
Intrudes feeling free for invasions,
Increasing wars revising what agreed,
Incoming time inclining independence,
Indifference for all asleep,
Discourage poll possessions intentions,
Remaining backwards countrys in need,
Would left among nations in faceless,
Despite foggy announcements on stand,
Among the stars would shine the Planet,
Don’t leave your children on the sand,
And face cold judgments for a wild,
Pretending for the Future bright,
It’s hard to watch hearts children crying,
Forgiveness doesn’t have a chance,
Missed way to all the Human Kind
Americans For Fair Elections
Who is it now that pays the way,
Of politicians gone astray,
And who now will pave the way,
For that which they were paid,
We are Americans who stand true and proud,
Witnessing incredible devastations,
So we shout our mantra strong and proud,
We are 'Americans For Fair Elections'!
One contribution from those who vote you in,
Is all a candidate should be able to get.
To fund a political race to represent,
America for the people within their District,
People who no longer have a voice,
People now easily disregarded,
Who now find they have less of a choice,
Than when this democracy started,
No more party or government matching fund,
No special interest groups or big business,
All lobbying our district reps one by one,
And deciding who will lead our districts
These contributions have stolen our choices,
And all that we Americans hold most sacred,
These powers have now stolen our voices,
And our democracy now sits degraded,
We 'Americans For True Representation',
Now must take action and take back the reins,
We 'Americans For Fair Elections'
Must now rid ourselves of these stains,
And with the help of our fellow Americans,
We shall return the power to the people,
With every one of us taking a stance,
For together we are indeed powerful,
Through calls, letters, and petitions,
Once again we will make our voices heard,
Offering no retreat and no concessions,
We remain staunch and true to our word,
So be warned you who stand in our way,
For we will remember those with questions,
And those who will stand with us this day,
As 'Americans For Fair Elections'
Please visit 'Americans For Fair Elections' dot com,
And help us to pass the word of this movement on,
Or forward this poem penned by My Gull Wheels On,
a.k.a. Michael Wilson, Your fellow American!
I was truly saddened by the massive quake
that shook China’s Sichuan province;
It was a huge disaster, a furious nature
that at times like this is indeed doleful.
I saw images of devastation all over,
I saw human sufferings in this situation;
I couldn’t believe their profound sadness
seeing deaths in legendary proportions.
Described as one of the worst disasters
in terms of lives claimed and destructions,
there’s superstition or tradition they say
that this might foreshadow in any way
a reigning emperor to have met his death.
Like a historical phenomenon years ago,
when the famous Tangshan quake shook.
the entire land where thousands were killed
and this happened just before the death of
the famous Chinese leader Mao Zedong.
That’s history! An unforgettable event;
a tragic episode that never occurred
to some minds with deep attachments
to this country where Communism
played the role in varied situations.
Quake victims received great attention
especially in the world of communication;
most of them I heard were migrant workers
from the countryside in search of fortune.
With the growing population elsewhere
I saw how Chinese people struggled
in their own way to overcome misfortunes
that life could go on with their convictions.
Right now, our major print, news and TV media
are sources and avenues of global information;
like epidemics and natural devastations
remind me of our shared, nationwide disasters.
Back in the Philippines where I was born
a litany of calamities and all kinds of anger –
they’re natural catastrophes like volcanic eruption,
all these shaped my vision and love for the people.
Oh, China, our neighboring country in Asia,
I could feel the shadows of your pain and mourning,
Your own people are also in my heart and attention
with God I pray to him that you’ll be all right.
(2/11/13)
Blood, sweat, and tears he would shed
On the path that lied ahead.
Imagine a child preaching the word of GOD
When even the adults had found it hard.
Can you picture him walking into town?
And his followers sitting on the ground
Listening to what he had to say
Their hands clasped together as they prayed.
Can you picture him in your mind?
Telling his mother that he is fine
And not to worry, not to bother
That he is not alone but with his father.
He was just a child, but he was the son of GOD
And preaching for him did not come hard.
From his birth she knew that to his father he would be true
For she was told ahead of time, what GOD had on his mind.
That he would be the leader of men and nations
And stop many of the devastations.
His childhood was about as normal as can be
But there was so many things that only he could hear and see
He knew that he was different from the others around
For they could not see the visions or hear the sounds.
This was the child called JESUS that we’ve all come to know
Two thousand years later and he is still loved so.
© L. RAMS
(Poem included in the Poems of Yosemite chapbook.)
Ineffable –
Still, I write these lines
trite.
A scaffold of words
which whence removed
casts only a silence
of long shadows.
To you, the paradigm
of living time,
I write ephemeral
wordless words.
You say nothing
though the wind wafts
words which speak
beyond words to each.
The sound of wind
continues in the stillness
and reaches into
the logos which
spells the visitors
deeper than these.
You speak centuries –
the entire time
of our adolescence –
when you’ve watched
as we wrestle with
the worst of nature.
You were made for fire
and your cambium grows
thick bark and fibers
over the scars.
Does too our tissue
grow over scars?
Wars, devastations?
Will these as well clear
the understory?
But you don’t create fire
you endure it.
Is that the difference?
This is your nature,
share and compare us ours.
We see your exposed rings
and the markers
telling us which ring
belongs to Christ
and the Inquisition.
I see my ring
but not the current
as only the living
scribe those rings
and they are being written.
Poetry overcomes time
and endows the ephemeral
with permanence.
Your permanence
is presence and in
this silence of time
the visitors sense
then understand –
they’ve come not to see you
but themselves.
( 9/6/12)
They had gathered in the square
And a feeling of unrest was in the air
A message of freedom resounded out loud
you could hear the talk amongst the crowd.
Their voices started off very softly
And rose to a high pitched frequency
And in their faces the anger you did see.
The world is changing and so must we
We must fight poverty and bigotry.
Families are starving all around this world
Just look at the faces of the boys and girls.
There are children who are skin and bones
And are left without a home.
Mothers have no more milk in their breast
And not a morsel of food for them to eat
As they lay dying at their feet.
When they do have food to cook
They need clean water and a plate
And a spoon , fork , and a knife
So their fingers they would not bite.
A netting for where they sleep
To them is a treat.
Insects flying all around
And the children s crying is the only sound.
People being condoned because of their
Religious beliefs ,color, and sexual gender
And it’s not getting any better.
I live in a world of political corruption and hate
But I always try to keep my faith and
Hopefully one day they will open up their eyes
And take away that disguise.
This is the reason you hear FREEDOMS VOICE
Through out the lands - because people just can’t
Understand why our politicians turn their backs
And refuse to pick up the slack.
They say that these are third world nations
Who have all these devastations
But don’t they have rights just like we
So lets try to help them stamp out poverty and bigotry.
I know it’s nearly impossible to do what we say
But one by one we can find the way.
ONE BY ONE !
© L.RAMS
Heavy Thirst
The clouds are dark
The clouds are heavy
Heavy clouds bring hope
Heavy hope for rain
Rain to refresh the scorched land
Rain scorched land is bereft of water
Water to quench its thirst
Water for thirsty plants and trees
Trees reduced to bones
Trees that look so skeletony
Skeletony enough for us to afear
Skeletony as they have been boned with drought
Drought to wipe away all that was born to flourish
Drought rid land where not a thing lives without rain
Rain I do wish to ask you a question
Rain bewildered question me why wait
Wait not too long to be flooded
Wait not for my startling answers
Answers I said will resolve my queries
Answers to questions that have been tormenting me
Me the sinner remains petrified
Me wary that you have for us no care
Care that is wanting in life
Care without which life has become corrupt
Corrupt because the world has become selfish
Corrupt is the very soul of all humans
Humans within and beastly without
Humans sans love and warmth
Warmth amiss to keep the households together
Warmth necessary to keep devastations away
Away from the evil eye
Away from what the eye can envision
Envision what the eye cannot see
Envision how difficult to keep any danger away
Away from man's heart and soul
Away from soul which is our healer
Healer of sorrows
Healer that can be turned
Turned into fragment
Turned and spurned as worthless
Worthless because they come in parts
Worthless parts lack any great strength
Strength frightens inert cowards
Strength overtly will continue abode
Abode on this kingdom
Abode that often remains in thirst
Thirst because there is no rain
Thirst be quenched Man you yourself have answered
Answered
Rain
Balveen Cheema
September 3, 2015
The possible sense of direction is entitled to defend the consequences and to be elaborate in the timing of how the stream contains in the time of how to underestimate the time to endure In the consequences of possible tendencies and to provide the movement into the generosity and to defend the remote timing of devastations that were promises that tore me apart in the clockwork of how the continuation is in the front of what is defended in the sense of equality.
The time is conquered in the movement of how to divide me with the negotiations of instrumental evidence and to partake in the withering flower of power in the station of recovery for the mind and body that tries to format the fermentation of the mind.
We lend out a hand to deliver the space of time to deliver a special notation of congruence and to be apart of the extreme movement. The band of tomorrows music delivers a sense of promises and dedication to all that Is in the constitution of remarkable soul to enter into the mind with elaborate the continuation of what is stated in the massive discovery and to enlighten the factors with the damaged soul in the night and day of moonlight specialties and to tell the opening of an envelope can be promising of finances and to being a smile to your face.
Form:
"Poetry” is a most powerful instrument
like a flute that is to be played.
Also, it is a pungent possibility
like a newly created perfume put on.
Yet, free to all, and for all to wear.
This is to be adorned, and is
one of the most of the highest of solemn calls.
Words that are spoken and then engraved,
never to be forgotten or ignored.
It can reshape the world
that is in pieces and so, so torn.
A restorative medicine
to a life that is very, very worn.
An elixir of life and
a healer of lives beset by strife.
A lifter of our inner thoughts
and our buried emotions.
A fire-works of explosions
raising us up to a newer dimension.
A reversal of cacophonies,
man-made devastations.
Words of pretty portraits and musical orchestras
of artistical words:
Seamed stitched and woven and fashionably embroidered.
Also, made into a steely shining sword.
Mud thickens direly as I sink in shame,
Eternal devastations stride in liberty,
Wearied by the gloom of difficulty,
I sigh, but hope pensively in your frame:
You are my love, my dignity and aim;
In our speech my tethers do quantify,
Until reason transcends to pacify,
Ripping the hold of the fragmented maim;
May madness is no longer confusion,
Complexity evades in summation;
If only I could love you more the same,
And give you another wide open door,
We would in conversation rhyme and roar,
And life I would never in full so blame.
There was a world renown prophet EDGAR CAYCE was his name.
His sleeping predictions , brought this man to fame.
The only man ever known to predict while in a sleeping state.
The accuracy of his predictions was about 88.8 .
1877- 1945 was when he was alive.
He was a farmer, teacher, preacher, scholar.
He would lay down and fold his hands across his stomach
And close his eyes, into a deep meditation he would fly.
They asked him all sorts of questions while in this state
With the answers he would not hesitate.
He could speak to his grandfather who had passed away.
And with spirit children he did play.
He had been blessed with a gift so rare
That with the world he had to share.
10,000 topics he had covered.
But was known mostly for the cures
For sicknesses of all sorts
And the medications were all store bought.
Five main topics which he covered most
Came from the holy ghost
Health, dreams, psychic phenomena, spiritual growth
He spoke of philosophy and reincarnation
And the worlds future devastations.
He was a prophet beyond his time
And cures which this world had never seen
Goes into the pages of history.