Best Dispell Poems
We stood at the edge of contemplation
watching through the window to the world
but not ever knowing where we stare
We fathom the scale of injustice
weighing heavily on ordinary minds
where ordinary is atypical
and creativity is pushed
back into the recesses of time
Awaken with me in yesterday's linens
our dramatic interpretation of life's song
dispell rumors of ruins in waiting
and let your sensuous tune carry us home
The love of all love will live on in my heart,
Though Fate has decreed that we two must part.
We shared such moments that time cannot erode,
But now each must walk our own sepperate road.
The Love that we shared, promised so much,
with each little word, each little touch.
We shared each our laughter,felt each others pain.
Pray fate will decree. That we'll love again.
Together we could cross Oceans so wide,
and scale every Mountain at each others side.
our sorrows and joys were just as one.
My Love is still here. Darling, 'tis you that has gone.
Even time will not heal this broken heart,
or erode the memory of the day we were to part,
for here in my being always there'll be.
A 'Forever Love.' Thats just you and me.
You walked out of my life with no word of farewell,
and left such a sorrow that no word can dispell.
Be happy My Darling in all that you do.
But remember the Love. that always is YOU.
NJR
03/28/13
When you embrace my thoughts, I rise like the Sphinx
When your words I hear not in the course of a day, I am saden
my mind say she will not stay.
Yet I know in my heart that my mind is so vast and hears all thoughts,
of others, then do I dispell those thoughts of deceit.
Yes, I know neither time, nor space, nor a being shall erase what you
give to me if you never speak a word.
For I know your unspokens thoughts are my perpetual joy that none can
truly know, because this is between me and You.
The season of hope, the season of giving,
The time to reflect on the life you've been living.
Children innocent, gleeful, jolly,
Masquerading in magical midnight folly.
Token gifts exchanged with teary eyes,
Sentimentality to make up for expressionless lies.
The streets lined bright with twinkling lights,
Amaretto, giddy to dispell never-ending nights.
The anticipation is welcomed into their chests,
The disillusioned only waiting to end their direst.
Simply a day if you've no one to share with,
Only a waiting game, until it is over with.
Just one day yet it's been another year,
Rejection was always your biggest fear.
Melancholia swelling in your heart, loneliness growing more,
Then Christmas is over and it's all back to how it was before.
Amid 240 units of toil
Reigns my Connie
Where she walks
Is blessed soil
California sun
To match her hair,
No nature's beauty
Could compare
Sitting at a table,
With her friend Denise,
Mulling over a
Possible lease...
To an Indian
named Cochise...
Will he pay in wampum
Or scalps he'd taken,
Or Indian souvenirs,
Or maybe he's fakin'
Maybe he's
really from Jersey
Or maybe he's not...
Will he want
To keep buffalo
In the parking lot?
Will arrows fly
When he gets mad?
Will he smoke
odd stuff
When he is sad?
Erect a teepee
In his living room?
Keep six squaws
To dispell his gloom?
Ride his horse
bareback to work...?
Feathered head
that he can shake?
Or suit and tie,
Briefcase at his side,??
Laptop computer
Covered in cowhide??
It's a mystery,
As you can see...
Time will soon tell
What will be.
I'll let you know
how it turns out,
And even though
You likely doubt,
This story that
I'm telling you...
Yet, it's possible,
that it just might
be true.
Upon his rock he built it
washed throughout the world,
through the toll of bells in the air
and the curl of smoke, rising.
Snakes that silently slithered
whispering 'come hither' to those in need.
Then they feed and take away the light that rose,
fell deep to the depths and rose again.
Only he who can be like a child will enter
through gates adorned by light and flower.
Through their lies they dispell your belief,
they sour the fruit that blooms.
Veined marble that beats with the passion of the millenia,
the prayer that dispells the darkness within.
Inside you is the alter, not in the stone or gold that adorns.
Perpetual innocence at battle with sin.
by Dawne Zacharias
When we think all is lost
you've done everything to thwart the jabs of hopelessness
Suicide appears,
Answers are never found on this level
Get out! Right now, and away from it, raise your sights
And when you do, ask God if it is really you
the darkness will dispell, His joy will surround
a brightness of hope will be found.
One step then another, we are going on this
journey together.
Coat stand tree commingling clan protects
Quilted caterpillar sticks linen to spine
Pine foliage erect points to its apex
Before its born, spire spreads star shine
Swooping swivel neck owl huddles, human eyes
Scan heaven, hook beak hoots transmit signal
For seraphim shifting, shades of dove devise
Butterfly current shaken napkin nimble
Venture from avenues of arrow quivers
Dispell dictating army apostrophes
Barrel roll ballistic, blank space delivers
Delight due outside barracks claustrophobic
Antenna tuned owl throatily purrs
Pleasure for butterfly’s fast learned journey, laughed
Drift under dry angel feathers, breeze spurs
Freedom wish from wizard to aloof aircraft
27 January 2025
Written for Contest:
Embodying the Light
Sponsor: Unseeking Seeker
FIRST YOU MUST TRY
IN ORDER TO DO
THE FIRST STEP IS GOODBYE
TO THE OBLIVIOUS YOU
ENTER INTO A LIVING GAME
ANTE UP YOUR FUTURE DAYS
NEVER AGAIN TO BE THE SAME
DISPELL THAT CHEMICAL HAZE
THE USER CAN NOT PREDICT AT ALL
THE MOMENTS OF DISTRESS
ONE MINUTE YOU'RE HAVING A BALL
THEN YOU COULD BE DEAD, UNLESS
FACE THE DEMON, CHALLENGE UNDERSTANDING
WHO, OR WHAT IS IN CONTROL
ARE YOU COMMANDING?
OR THE BOTTLE OR BOWL?
IT SAYS,"DO THIS. SAY THIS. YOU'RE NEVER WRONG."
BRINGING ILLUSIONS OF NORMALACY TO HELL
ALMOST DEAD, POUNDING HEAD, STILL IN BED, CRADLE THE BONG
YOU'RE NOT REALLY LIVING, AND "THEY" CAN TELL
REALIZE.
MORTIFY.
THEN...
TRY.
FIRST YOU MUST TRY
IN ORDER TO DO
THE FIRST STEP IS GOODBYE
TO THE OBLIVIOUS YOU
ENTER INTO A LIVING GAME
ANTE UP YOUR FUTURE DAYS
NEVER AGAIN TO BE THE SAME
DISPELL THAT CHEMICAL HAZE
THE USER CAN NOT PREDICT AT ALL
THE MOMENTS OF DISTRESS
ONE MINUTE YOU'RE HAVING A BALL
THEN YOU COULD BE DEAD, UNLESS
FACE THE DEMON, CHALLENGE UNDERSTANDING
WHO, OR WHAT IS IN CONTROL
ARE YOU COMMANDING?
OR THE BOTTLE OR BOWL?
IT SAYS,"DO THIS. SAY THIS. YOU'RE NEVER WRONG."
BRINGING ILLUSIONS OF NORMALACY TO HELL
ALMOST DEAD, POUNDING HEAD, STILL IN BED, CRADLE THE BONG
YOU'RE NOT REALLY LIVING, AND "THEY" CAN TELL
REALIZE.
MORTIFY.
THEN...
TRY.
Give to me the good land
sweet earth and soil
the sun the shade and her toil
Put me back in natures hand
the cycle of things that I understand
Stand beneath the light of the stars
and my face to warm in the sun
pick herbs in summer showers
and hold you firmly in my hand
the joining of woman and man
Feel the crisp breeze of the bay
and accomplish the work of the day
lay by your side every night
without a struggle or fight
Let the warmth of my soul dispell
your fear and your anger quell
Trust my soul to work for your good
and all between us is understood
Let us run the river beside
and in the woods play seek and hide
Sing to the children our song
that we should all get along
To the cycle we all understand
Belonging to woman and man
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
It is her words at the center of it
I only print this as a tribute to it.
Here is the poem Deborah Guzzi wrote
Here is passion etched
On the edge of a note
Here is the sum of all our knowledge:
"Words are the balm of age
the gift of sage
when all flees and even the white of eye reddens with rheum
words fair words dispell the gloom
when hands are mapped with age and knarled still they transform the page
the eye
the cage
Words flow and mind goes to pristine smiles
and the smooth curves which once were thy
thy cheek
thy neck
thy hip
Deny me anything but the word for its magic will soon
be all that remains of fresh and new."
And here I am poor Sisyphus
With this eternal burden
Only from hell we dream of heaven
(The words of this poem are not mine alone, that of DG is encapsulated in quotation marks,
speaking to their centrality in my admiration).
Twenty seven religious candles
Around my bed,
Twenty seven years of Ash Sunday
Ashes on my head,
Twenty seven Bibles,
In my motel room,
Twenty seven priests
To dispell twenty seven a' gloom
Twenty seven rosaries,
In twenty seven hands,
Won't stop the juices flowing,
In twenty seven glands
My twenty seven lovers,
In twenty seven days,
Makin' me kind of tired
In twenty seven ways
Twenty seven incantations
In twenty seven a mass
Gives me hope,
Twenty seven more days
I'll last
Twenty seven commandments I did break
That's many, many odd more,
Than you have heard Him make
So I say twenty seven good-byes
To twenty-seven poet friends,
I'll be shoveling coal in hell
To make my twenty seven amends.
Such a vast expanse, this ravine of despair, its steep slick walls sporting vertical fractures that taunt
as toe holds, those attempting to escape this hopeless valley.
The dark river of depression snakes aimlessly along the canyon floor, its deep waters carrying many struggling souls away to the Gulf of the Forgotten. Having resigned from their true identity,
they bend toward the ultimate hopelessness, lonely abandonment.
But for some who, in this place, look deeply within themselves, touching hope they slight the snares of this valley.
Hope! Yes Hope!
That eternally optimistic promise from the one who values those mining for it.
This hope of fullfillment that springs forth from within dries up slippery walls, offering valuable traction away from dismal flow.
This undefeatable appetite for purpose is deeper than any valley,
wider than any river and can dispell despair with one believing phrase.
Hope states "I am not alone in purpose!"
and declares "I am known as one of value!"
The bridge of hope spans caverns,
the tower of hope sees great opportunities,
the ship of hope confidently rides the waves of turmoil knowing success awaits!
Hope has no class or social preferences.
Hope makes no demands in itself.
Hope is it's own reward!
Oh to rest in the eternal hope that will not fail!
Some things never surface and get revealed; or do they?*
Each of us has a chamber entered by us and God alone
Crimes often go unresolved and justice is never served; Is that a fact?
Revelations of secrets can be realized over time and when the light is brighter
Every secret, residing in a dark and lonely place, longs to be uncovered
Christ offers to surface, unravel, forgive, and dispell the pain forever
You and I receive mercy and pardon, freedom from guilt and shame
122819PoSoup *Jer 31:34, Ps 103:12, Lk 8:17, 12:2