Best Devotedly Poems
Line of Inquiry:
“We look at spirit not at form
Our touch is gentle, kind and warm
We but reflect God’s love and light
‘Tis the path to which we conform”
Serenity of Spirit is to be invited inside,
not captured and held.
Its movements unfettered and as free
as waves crashing over the sea.
I touch them as they rush to shore,
uncontained, refusing to be restrained
like the sacred stirrings of a silent spirit.
God's light reflects across open waters.
Of its inspiring ebb and flow, I am aware
that He is everywhere... in ocean swells,
dwelling in depths of cerulean Chakra
I feel the bliss of fernweh* inside me
That distant place I cannot see
but exists at the end of the path I follow
once awakened from doubt,
where God's light and love await me.
Words are unspoken during meditation
offering adoration and solemn appeal.
It's tantamount truth I seek...
sincere belief, devotedly divined
not of the body, but in spirit and mind.
Intoxicating, the righteous realization
that God's light glows within me
with calmness when spirit is inhaled,
carrying with it the elegant essence
of a pious paradise; an Elysium Eden.
In a komorebi** moment, shadows fled
when revealed was God's grace,
His radiant presence,
and in the palpable peace I felt
my soul was filled with reverence.
My heart needed spiritual healing...
a transformation I eagerly accepted
when he planted wisdom seeds in me.
*fernwey - yearning for a distant place
**komorebi - embodies a sense of tranquility
Tonight I speak to you,
with a sober mind that
keeps my memories vivid,
and a melancholy mood
that reflects the deepest
darkest depths of my
dangerous depression,
Sealed with heartache
Stamped with the hurtful
indiscretions of a man made
ignorant by the reality of a
loss that eradicated his soul,
Be it prudent to allow my
reminiscence to fade into
the infinite background of
forgotten brooded teenage angst
My memories are empowered
by love, and by such an emotion,
have denied my will and become
personified to the point of eternal
embodiment, grabbing my tongue
and squeezing out ink used to
express the immortal affection of
its own first and only creed,
Thus by the mutual compassion
once held by our hearts alike,
The monster of your imagination
was born to a world incapable of
comprehending the love of a
creature for the love of his creator,
A creature who hides his face
for he is hideous without you,
Crushed by the harrowing
lightening strike of being
condemned to a life without
the bolt of love that gave him
breath, he becomes the lost,
Yet he devotedly searches for you,
as I do, as we both breakdown
screaming and crying out loud,
in harmony, "Creator, please...
Love me again.."
Bronwyn the Barbaric was a buxom lass
the envy of all her peers
She spoke with unrivaled swashbuckling sass
her pirate-ess fashion was fierce
She could charm off the arms of the most hardened men
how they'd swoon at the sight of her swagger
She ruled over cutthroats with a dangerous grin
her hand ever over her dagger
But her smile was so lovely, her style was so vogue
that she had little need for such violence
With a wave of her hand, she could tame ruthless rogues
with a look she could cause utter silence
So, peacefully she plundered (with minions to pillage
and devotedly obey her commands)
Until a shop window caught her eye in the village
and she made a bad purchase, unplanned
There she acquired the most dashing high-heel boots
custom made (according to her wishes)
But the pain that they caused was something acute
and it made the 'old girl' act quite vicious
She kidnapped the cobbler and tortured him so
she was in quite a terrible temper
She dealt him such cruel and merciless blows
the crew could hardly handle his whimpers
She became a tyrannical, treacherous wench
terrorizing from Tahiti to Tangier
Leaving in her wake only ruins and stench
with a reckless and wicked sneer
And 'though her crew were not a cowardly lot
they dared not get on her bad side
The last scalawag was both stabbed and shot
before she tossed him into the tide
But one rakish mate had an interesting offer
her vanity couldn't refuse-
If he could, just once, get those stylish boots off her
a better set he could produce
So eyeing him, slowly, she peeled the boots off
and immediately felt such relief
Gone was her bitterness, her angry scoff
gone was the source of her grief
Seeing their pirate queen herself again
the crew gathered 'round and they cheered
Those bloody boots were thrown overboard
and their mate was quite revered
Now a barefoot buccaneer, she still
struts across the deck
And if they don't bend to her will
she'll see they're put in check!
Thank God for waking up, for opening our eyes
Another day is at hand
filled with opportunity
perhaps a wedding band
Thank God for releasing our arms from sleep
Thank God for separating the land from the water
For giving us two legs, for letting us upright walk
…not to mention creatures who think and talk
Thank God for girding us with strength
for giving us perception
in three dimensions
height, width, and length
Thank God every minute of every day
for the countless miracles He brings our way
for our elbows, shoulders, our feet down there
for our eyes, ears, nose, mouth and hair
Thank Him profusely the day before we die
Do it devotedly ~ we’ll begin to understand ‘WHY’
You adore the reflection you see
So beautiful you are, so pure your beauty
I see through the crack in the door
Brushing your hair so devotedly!
I know to them the favourite you are
Your eyes glisten like far away stars
I know that to them their angel is you
You’re so perfectly pretty, anyone would love you
I study the mannerisms of you. Your smile stops hearts beating - it is so beautifully you.
I cry in the night because of you
I lose sleep and am tired because of you
I look at the reflection of me
My eyes, my skin is just not your beauty.
I fool myself saying how pretty I am
But your teeth are so perfect and white you light up a room no matter where you are
I accept that I’ll never be you
The shadow, the one always behind!
The people we meet don’t see me
They look at you and see all they want to see
I love you but hate you as well
I can’t stand when you laugh as their attention is no where else
My sister you will always be
The boys, the men will never see me!
I’m sorry to hear how you are
The lines and the age dimmed the light of the far away star!
They don’t open the door for you anymore
Your complexion lost the glow of who you were once before.
Though pretty you always be, when youth became a memory so did your drop-dead beauty!
Now age is as cruel as cruel can be
The Woolf whistles now call for someone else’s beauty
I’m sorry that you can’t let go of the perfectly pretty you
But you can’t dress like that anymore and be in anyway cool
Let go of the youth that was you
That was innocence’s fool
You are so much more than what you see.
You are much more than what they will ever see.
Let go of the past, you’ll always have memories
Be a women.
Be more than they think you are.
A women is much more than a smile or the eyes of glistening stars
Be a women for what you want to be
Be a women of substance, be a women like me.
He sat in his recliner in the balcony,
the evening soft breeze so cool, tender
with his eyes closed as if in a trance;
The light breeze swept along his wrinkled skin
caressing everything it touched on its way
at the tiny square balcony garden -
the blooms, leaves, herbs
and his soul soaked in its soothing touch!
His drowsy eyes still closed
he sat in reminiscence of the past
of all that had happened to him:
Now in his mid sixties - creased, faded skin,
withering tree - leaves drying and falling;
His once flexible brain losing elasticity
as is his skin - little by little,
with no one at his side
to talk to or care for him.
All Alone!
He heard the evening chorus of pigeons,
and opened his eyes to see
them flocking across the sky,
as they swooped and soared in
various shapes against the orange sky.
His eyes brightened at this sight!
Again, memories of so many incidents
recent and past - flashed before his eyes:
the loss of his better half to an accident,
the abuse, the neglect by his sons,
those disturbing exchange of words
that only made matters worse,
the endless wait for his sons
to return proved futile.
Ducklings that he devotedly cared
Flew swiftly away from his homestead.
Leaving him
All Alone!
He heard the tinkle of the windchimes,
as it swayed in the gentle breeze.
His mind dissolved in its mellifluous melody!
He has fallen down for the umpteenth time.
He has no vigour left
or desire to get up and move;
He is gradually mastering the art:
Of being dissolved
In the fragility of life
Like a scattered dust...
To be gently carried away by the breeze!
Embracing that precious moment!
All Alone!
Date: 11/03/2020
Submitted for Ambedo Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Silent One
Second Place
As we walk towards one another
from a long distance of dare
with a stare straight into each other's soul glare
on a plateau of ancient, barren heartache,
the broken, fine diamond ground
love dry and dusty
bemoans our steps as severe moxie,
yet it's faith that motivates
our forward motion into maybe,
the wind waits not for want
as it stirs dreams from the ruins
of passion fallen short,
the ghosts of gothic romance
howl and whirl in the waste of ashen pulses,
ringed by mountains of ageless endurance
with a sky speaking rare fever
We get closer to the crucible of touch,
your scarlet gown and shawl of lip song
whipping wildly,
my mantle of sapphire sackcloth undulating
to match your confident stride,
We're feet away, the rush rises hot,
You extend your unmarried hand
into my palm of fire,
We give each other a smooth smile
because we know the price,
You give me a token of virgin time,
I hand you a blood jewel,
and suddendly the weather explodes
into a storm of burning roses...
A Widow of poetic warfare,
an Apex Princess in a shadow of love's heartbeat,
with a noble yearn
for honest caress,
weeping strongly on a living prayer,
She sends a warm teared whisper to her Love,
long away saying...
Stay with Me...
She expects not a cure or kiss,
Nightfall comes to envelope her
in soft sadness,
late after Midnight she's awoken
to a firm hand waving along her sleeping arm,
He moves her laying hair
as if it were a delicate beauty,
His lips gently touch her ear,
and He tells her...
I've never left You...
My sighs begin to trace Your borderlines
of beauty ablaze in love mania
with a charcoal ivory smoothness
as your body begins to beckon like warm tides
before the storm,
your heartbeat thunders
for a mouth to mouth kiss,
My tip glides lips tender and open,
You begin to foam sweetly,
My sighs reach your thighs,
A masterpiece enters You
with strokes true and deep...
Feel me in my silence
as I ache for your aplomb approval,
I lay alone,
afflicted with love burn,
I need You to cool me,
to handle my heart devotedly,
come up onto me, supple like,
Kiss me from above the pain and stars,
heal the scars and take me far
into your hunger,
deliver me beyond the dream,
teach me what love means -
J.A.B.
Believe it or not- God
is always winner in
the game of Nature
Merged in oneness
is eternal entity
of nature
Endless path that is infested
with wild humans have to
walk devotedly
-October 28, Chattogram
Tears are wet to the palate
salty to the taste --
we cannot not live without
the water...nor salt --
and their expulsion associated with
many miseries, many deaths.
My focus though is on joyful tears --
laughter that pains the
ribs in a good way, after a funny story
well told -- a child overwhelmed
by a blessed gift becoming happily
emotional. We are lacrimal in a very
poignant sense~ for what reaches the
surface, through trial and error, while
intense, outwardly drippy, is substance
of a great connecting conduit. And despite
ambient fluctuations of internal springs,
over-all life is devotedly nurtured by a
Maternal Sky~ keeping dear watch,
moistening and drying according to
the ripening needs of her children.
Does true love is worth waiting for?
Where are you my Odysseus?
For love and eternity I will be yours,
I will love thee for my whole life
Will see no one but you as my true love…
My heart will wait for you to come
Even 20 years may past, I will never run
For your love I will never seize from waiting
Even it will take long for my longings…
I know our love is for eternity
You and I are meant to be
For an everlasting love is our destiny
I will be yours and you will be mine eternally…
Come to me soon and let’s be free
I will love you wholeheartedly
For I your Penelope
Will wait for you devotedly…
Our family tree will never stop growing…our faith and comfort will never crumble
Love grows here…so have no fear—God is near
My family, though packed up with pride and low self-esteem, still appears humble
Mirth produces joy and our hope gives birth to cheer
God is our Father; who could play this role as skillfully? Who, other than God, created the world so genuinely?
Love comes from He…so scare away the anxiety—God will grant us ecstasy
My family, though packed up with hope and despair, cherishes my soul with glee
Rebirth and life comes from He and our faith should draw near to thee
"i love you sweet boy..we will have fun this summer and be a close and godly family..nighty nit my light"
This summer, I am positive that we will be a close and godly family
But we must be lights of the world…and we must be willing to finish that race of hardships to earn His dignity
By all means, we will have an enjoyable break without paying a fee
But we must be God’s faithful followers…and we must be prepared to follow our Shepherd who is the key
Of never-ending faith and comfort, nourishing us abundantly
He still exists…He unravels the insanity
Of this world and set us free from blasphemy
Watching over us with pure vitality
Give us Your water
Don’t leave us in the gutter
Listen to the words we mutter
I pray that our family tree will look up to you devotedly
How can this be? I searched the meaning of
my name and, to my great surprise, I find
some things seem so familiar with the love
of what's important in my heart and mind.
Devotedly intense and known for grace-
this name says she creates unique ideas.
Productive goals fill up her time and space,
and sweet rewards abound over the years.
She loves to learn and is inquisitive,
and people like her altruistic heart.
Yet she must mind her want to do and give
does not become one's 'take for granted art'.
Creatively outgoing, made to share
and be respected- valued by her friends
for the accomplishments that she can pair
with inborn talents she with love attends.
These traits appear beneath my given name;
somehow I feel for me, they are the same.
I have her nineteen fifties' Trifari
fine costume jewelry, which I hold dear,
since my sweet mom bequeathed it all to me;
when worn or touched, I feel her presence near.
The ritzy, sparkling rhinestone matching sets
showcased in satin-lined, faux leather case,
were treasured as high fashion; no regrets
when given as a gift of style and grace.
And too, are pearls embedded in bright gold
with settings of such intricate design.
I love to look at them, to fondle, hold
these precious pieces treasured now as mine.
I wear my mother's gems from time to time
and feel her basking in the lovely glow
that once adorned her beauty in its prime
and graced her loveliness in stylish show.
So I devotedly take tender care
of these Trifari gifts passed on to me;
her treasures shine with special love we share,
safeguarded through her cherished jewelry.
Sandra M. Haight
~1st Place~
Contest: Old Jewelry or Just Old Things
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Judged: 11/06/2016
Since the1920s, Trifari has been one of the most respected and admired producers of costume jewelry in the United States. Founded in the1910s by Gustavo Trifari, the Italian-immigrant son of a Napoli goldsmith, the company has designed jewelry that’s been worn by countless high-profile clients, from Mamie Eisenhower to Madonna. Trifari costume jewelry is highly collectible today.
They weave, they weave
They weep and they weave
Smarting under the persecuting whips -
Verbal, literal or carnal whips
They weep, they weep.
Locust-like they swarm the streets
To reach the factories before the sun settles well
In its diurnal rounds.
There are no circumstances unavoidable
Reach they must the gates at the hour final….
Sartorial gladiators they are
Salary they draw but in the
Etymological sense- they are well off
Enough to buy salt.
Eagle-eyed lustful look
Do the ups and downs of their physique hook -
Surveying the geography of their constitution
And the lecherous bosses or carnally starving colleagues
Devotedly concentrate on each continent
And ready to pay compliment
Only if they are crowned with the sovereignty to discuss
Issues that make the gynecologists blush!
Penelopes of the modern times,
Your hands transform loan-sharks
Into pot-bellied, globe-trotting tycoons.
These textile Sheikhs
When their family or female(s) sneeze
Millions and millions they unsqueeze
As if they are sylvestral leaves
Falling beauteously in the vernal breeze!
But alas! These helicoptered and villaed
Villains, as if through the alchemy of a vile wand
Into penniless paupers transformed
When the Midas-hands entreat them
To get exchange for their tears and sweat.
All big talks, fountains of philanthropy run dry -
And they weave and cry
They weave and cry!
Cry no more, Penelope, weave no more,
Never will your Odysseus come
Cease weaving, cease embroidering.
Yet the dream-laden Penelopes
Weep and weave,
They weep and they weave!
They weep and they weave!!
Chaste and Chased – dedicated to Eileen Ghali
Coy sideways glances at the man of your dreams
Holding hands in secret so nobody sees
Amazed more girls don’t act the way you do
Sex before marriage – no you want to remain pure
Total commitment to one man in your life
Even when you’re dating you remain so demure
Always ready to see some bedroom action
Never turning sex down its like some fatal attraction
Devotedly he now pursues
Chase begins with eager anticipation
His heart pounding and heavy respiration
Ardour inflamed by her beauty
She’s sublime and sexy, such a cutie
Eureka is his final thought
Dames sure are naughty when they’re caught
Written by JaDazzle (Jan Allison & Darren Watson)
14th April 2014