Best Devotion Poems
When the storm clouds boil around me,
And the lightning splits the sky--.
When the howling wind assails me,
And life's sea is rolling high--
When my heart is filled with terror,
And my fears, I can't allay--
Then I find sweet peace and comfort,
When I simply stop and pray.
When the things of life confound me,
And my faith is ebbing low--
When my trusted friends betray me,
And my heart is aching so--
When the night seems black and endless,
And I long for light of day--
Then I find a silver dawning,
When I simply stop and pray.
There are things beyond the heavens
I can't begin to understand,
But I know that God is living,
And I know He holds my hand.
Yes, I know He watches o'er me
All the night and all the day--
And He's always there to hear me
When I simply stop and pray.
Upon the wind sheltered hillside,
the sharp tang of metal and the sting of salt air lay
over a field of blood-red poppies, no Flanders Field.
At years fall, fields of rape roll like waves,
in the harshness of winter-sleet, stray boulders bow,
like the backs of mothers, and daughters sowing.
Their nails torn, ragged, and bleeding.
They bleed by the moon, and son, upon the fields.
No white crosses mark their passing.
For hundreds of years, and crops of rape, barley and wheat,
small hands, soft hands, and soft thighs bleed.
They bleed daughters, and sons.
They birth the fields by consent or rape and in the fields
unadorned by silver stars or purple hearts, they writhe.
Today, as May's sun wakes the blood blasted pasture,
each precious drop blooms, a heroines soul
acknowledgement, the poppies yield.
listen,
the whispers
of leaves
turn colour
autumn is here.
now that you are gone
who will wake every morn
to lift the sun
unveil the sky
etch in the clouds
who will paint the rainbow?
i had a dream and in the dream i wove you a poem
i used the fiber of my character to create spools of silken thread
dipped in the juices of my passion i dyed them in the colors of my imagination
re-enforced each and every single strand with the strength of my love
touch,
the echoes
of the rain
- waters
- blossoms spring.
now that 'us' is just a word
no longer with you as one
i alone wind up metal toys
cut out paper dolls
the beach swept from under my feet
the child in me flees.
spun spools from the intricacy of my spirit
designed a pattern
to the rhythm
of the music
of my inner thoughts
enamoured in your vision
crystal beads gather on my brow
as i toil your finely bred gift
as i braid every part of me
with every memory
into every sliver of fabric
taste,
uncut
snow shapes
crisp cold
ices the wintertide.
instead now rusted
a fools gold chain of loneliness
hangs around my neck like a noose
mourns a union that once had breath
a twosome that now is dead.
see,
the sand sculptures
paint
rekindle
a childhood summer
past.
sew in the loving glow emits my flawless dreams
with my boiling blood initial my woven piece
my work at an end i awake
you lay there a wingless angel asleep
smiling as if you heard a bell ring
your boundless warmth embraces me
the moon no longer smiles
the stars no longer wink
smell,
seasonal airs
stimulates senses
memories they deliver.
without a touch
barely - i kiss you.
in this
my decade of one
hope is a wickless candle
the night just day without light
in the glee,
hopes and dreams,
in the human spirit,
lives the miracle of life.
magnificent
voices in every pitch
deep and resounding,
the melody of echoes and whispers – uncut.
Jan 4 2017
With Love
Armand
"Mine all Mine!"
A thief I long to be
Your eyes original like the moon and sea
A lover in the world............
An Anthology, you walk and talk like the word "AMOR."
The words you send, I nicely tuck under my pillow
Every note every line you left behind
I memorized till they became all mine
Word-for-word,
Unauthorized I scrape the concrete calluses off the tongue
Pirating the perfect dramatic monolog look,
Basking through the passage around your Bio,
Lost in the musky scent -around the sonnet of your aura light
Epic enough, I reach inside to feel every idyllic rhyme
A strong iambic meter curse, conjuring up the perfect verse
In you I lift a copy paste from your lips,
No need to credit the sources in your bliss
The sweetest undamaged sensual memorandum book
A moment I stole and sealed without copyright proof
My dearest Poet,
When you move across the room
I see a thousand arrows that follow from behind,
Indulged when you speak and point out a verse per verse
I am a victim pampered by your words,
Sponging every line, adding them to my crib notes
Improved wordplay that infringed my everyday diary
A haiku so tangible, it sets the perfect images in my dream,
Hypnotize after I read your first love poem
A printed feeling--
Borrowed from the sun
pd
Whisper's of October
Whispers in this soup bowl
20 minutes after its muse explodes,
Daylight remains nothing more than a dream
Warding off the howling sound in mid-September's stream
Casting a line about a ginger light,
found in the depths of everything
Engaging from the sitting twilight, numb, tranquilized
Exposing and expressing the emotions found within
An attic lost in the Ancient sky ---awaits
A poetic hand is formed ---reaching out
A hissing whisper out of the darkness,
Listen-in, the echoes of October are calling
A halo, that reconciles a mysterious monarch moon
A mono grip in which summons a mysterious voice
of sweet serenity
Poets posting poems along the midnight page
Each poet can compose a poem and mimic free fallen verses,
One might call it a creative craving curse,
Webmaster's whose words speak for themselves
Voiceless-
They feel, and spills the will of idolized ink,
Blind-handed, splitting day from night
Warm whispers, needing no food to consume
Migraines of ink, feeding the soul
Burning Pages, overused pens
They've forgotten the pretty flowers
Living like lions, who never comes out of their dens
Murmuring and devouring, the enigmas of the unknown
Eyes behind a sieve, close tighter than before,
They hide nothing-
A world created from every sky-scrape the wall
Wanting to belong, a trick -or- treat*er in disguise
No friends, everything is pretend
These poets can’t be described, can't be believed
They are the best in what they do
For all you know this poet might be me,
This poet might be you
9/3/14
You lay upon the warm wet earth
now ripped from limb to limb.
Your present shape denies the girth
of your form in its prime.
A life cut short and denied its worth
about you ivy climbs,
my love for you evokes the hearth
a bonfire which knows no end time.
Now fallen, slain, cast for rebirth,
the core of you sublime,
an earthly stump, at forest skirt
reminds me of grand times.
Soon, I too will go beyond the earth
recalling passion's prime,
through the veil of life unearthed
my heart returned to thine.
*ballad
The powdery snow gloves the fingers
of maple forest, protecting barren bark
with the expectation of rose tipped bloom.
A meeting point between pristine
innocence and the veiled promise of spring
ripening. Each trunk and limb mirrors
the action of man. Reaching, arching,
swaying, creating aisles of church-like splendor,
a sacrament where the virginal may walk
toward communion with their God. Inward
toward the birth of faith and outward toward
the wedgwood sky in celestial sight.
Bits of me are missing mother,
the bits of me which you placed.
Bits of me are missing Mother;
ah, I see you in my face.
Trying to remember Mother’s days -
wine and roses - Sinatra songs
beaches, pipe curls and crinolines -
Days, so far gone, so long ago,
replaced by bitter brew: by tears,
by fears, by little pills;
I remember you.
I see you in my face Mother.
Years gone by and still I try,
no easy thing to do, I try to remember,
just a few memories of happy days
with you -
Was it when I learned to read;
when you baked your pies? Ah, Mother,
mother memories only come in sighs.
Still, in all, it’s very true, I spend
each day missing, missing all of you.
Included in my book The Hurricane by Prolific Press 2015
Life Spent All Alone
I felt such joy when first my hull met sea.
'Twas years ago before my shattered shell
Was tossed and ravaged, fisherman and me
As we grew old together, now I tell
The story of our lonely life at sea.
There was a maiden who he loved in youth.
A lightning strike took her, 'twas destiny.
He never loved again, that is the truth.
Daily he sadly fished in sun or rain,
Her memory and me his only friend,
Kept company in tune with heartfelt pain.
I remained with him 'till the very end.
I spend my days alone, my time is cast,
Thus I know, he is with his love at last.
5-13-19
Choices Poetry Contest ~First Place~
Sponsor Sara Kendrick
Picture # 2
Life Spent All Alone
Round and round I go
Unfolding my spirit of envy and gold
The nascence of a new stone
Hazel room, vibrant lilac sky,
Deep orange haze in a tender place
Arms of sapphire and cornflower blue
Fuchsia beauty drips, covering my ruby lips
All colors drift
On the first day, we met
Visions of dark slate-gray fade away
Firing up the new-age gem
Turning and creating different stars
Magic mint skies
White antique petals follow the current of air
Opal dreams, clouds embedded with impurity
My heartbeat produces flashing colors
The palest amethyst bluebonnet forever fields
Flawless tear-drop streams
Diamond shaped love
Ruby Red promises to keep
Flowing into the deep
Every color spins new
The day I fell in love with you
Peridot lime green tint
A love as old and gray
Olive brownish sun
Honeydew skin
Our future, deeper than aquamarine
Every day you turn fresh new seasons in me
Changing the sequence in my colors and effect
Kaleidoscope Eyes
Reflect by the mirrors of you
Crystallizing everything
Through eternal sun stars and space
My love shall find you I will embrace
Thru invisible realms and empty voids
There is nothing that my love avoids
Thru stormy clouds and distant dreams
My love shall be there in sailing streams
Within broken hearts and withered souls
My love shall rise above these hellish holes
Thru lonely streets and dark smoked rooms
My love shall find you through the fumes
Within abandoned hope and life on edge
My love shall find you this I solely pledge
Thru forgotten time and distant sorrow
My love shall find you with Cupids arrow
Thru hell itself and the armies of darkness
My love shall enlighten even the heartless
Thru times of grief and unwanted wasted war
Just look above for my love will start to pour
Thru anguished thoughts and apprehensions
My love shall find you through all dimensions.
Aug.05.2017
The Creative Collective Anthology Series
Sponsored by: Geraldine Taylor
Become my air,
pursuing my scent
in sweet fragrant fields,
where devouring tastes
of bohemian spirit,
delicately descend
in subsistent sighs.
Distracting the
tones of silence,
from subtle susurrus echoes,
like a tender
sakura breeze
kissing fresh
lavender blossoms.
Set adrift in
shades of yesterday,
dandelions bloom
in flourishing orchards,
prostrating to the
mercy of your grace.
But tread carefully
through
the hall of
dream crashers,
where strange streams
from nightmarish tears,
drizzle down,
composing
somber serenades,
choreographed
from an
enchanted symphony.
For l've seen the
invisible reality,
twinkling across streetlights
of sumptuous stars.
Distance is
an unspoken truth,
just a rainbow
away from roaming freely,
within an
evergreen paradise
above bougainvillea skies.
If this was the last poem,
before my last sigh,
today will be the day,
red of rose will
kill my bleeding ink,
so let lyrical acrolect
of poetry fill your thoughts,
look for 'you' and 'I
in the island of love,
where there's no
thunder without lightning,
nor “sea" without 'waves of us'
These distractions
of desolated dunes
are mere signs
of the wounded warrior
within me.
I'm waltzing through
vibrant valleys of white lilies,
in the hope of finding
lost gravity,
which overcomes trials and trepidation.
l'll always be your
lighthouse on lonely nights,
at the edge of
bioluminescent sand lines.
A haven where your
clusters of couplets,
will transcribe an
alchemist's poetic remedy.
Each verse will portray the
personal poem of my soul,
infused in a
profusion of soothing
cosmic hues.
As raindrops kiss
your face, they'll heal
those lamenting
leather lips-
for you are
the wind carrying clouds,
I am the ripples
crying to touch your sky.
Tonight my ink is mute
and this quill rests in silence.
I’m searching for the perfumed poem
you’ve placed in my aching soul,
when I found a home
within your aesthetic embrace,
whilst, the honeyed tip of your silvery voice
sketched a sea of flower-patterned stars,
across somber skies, whispering sweet carols
to the evening sun that wanes and slumbers
within crestfallen dahlias.
Was I ever a poet before I saw initials
of your celestial name scribbled in violet vines
across the pearl face of the blue moon?
I never knew words could weigh heavier
than dancing diamonds
glazed in gold,
Until I heard your riveting rhymes
echo rose tinted tunes of lilac feathered longing.
I love you for the way you thaw
frost kissed petals into streaks of
pomegranate prose-
flowing in crystalline compassion.
I love you for the way you’ve painted faceless ghosts
of my bitter cold past with acrylic glitter,
showing me that every thunder-struck meadow
can grow greener blades of faith.
I love you for soothing lucid nightmares crawling within darkness to suffocate my bleeding ink.
How you’ve held my onyx heart
while I struggled to weave silken threads
from emerald tears of angst.
But how can I harmonize the gravity of your spoken serenades
that linger across this cosmic canvas?
Must I steal every jewel from its rightful sphere,
just so that you can see vibrant colors of vehement verses,
reflecting through all that which flickers?
Would you feel me if these metaphors no longer flow in coherence?
Would you be the Emperor
to my throne of darkness
even if I am just an Empress without a crown?
What if I were nothing but a blurred black dot across a constellation of chaos?
Would you still love me If I wasn’t a poet?
Maybe these questions will forever
remain as endless equations
within fractions of no closure.
So tomorrow, if there’s no wind
that can carry these unsent letters to you,
remember my heart is yours till we meet
our unwritten tales,
before the last twinkling twilight fades into sheer nothingness.
And I will still love you even if
butterflies would betray the fragrance
of our undying romance.
When Again We Meet
Softly he says, "Should I die do not wait for me." She smiles,
"Just as the moon exhales no light without first a breath from the sun,
without you I'd be in darkness; what is paradise without light?"
04/17/2018
I Know of Great Love
I know of great love...
the kind of passion that
surpasses ecstasy into
a world of oblivious bliss
soaring among the clouds
in the ethers of heaven
with a newness that
never grows old or faint.
I savor these golden
treasures within my heart,
within my mind that is
filled with memories of
past and present as I look
forward to our future
moments, suspending us
in love's rapturous arms.
No love song could express
the joy you have given me,
nor the Valentines of
intimacy written by poets
with profound adoration.
Your voice is my love song,
your tender touch, my bliss,
your warmth, my security in
feeling, I know of great love.
You are now and will forever
be my beloved Valentine!
1-23-19
Midnight Valentine Poetry Contest ~N/A~
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke