Best Eschatology Poems

It's the end of the world.

Brisk air 

ssighhhs,

Silence abounds.

As the sky 

E R U P T S

A bloody red-violet.

Seagulls cry

for 

one

last

time.

Ships take harbor.

The sun retreats,

goodbye.

woe,

our...

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I say unto you, when the olive branch is brought to the tax collector, let not those who are without mercy be sent forth from...

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  It's time for a serious poem
    So I can truly show 'em
  That I've mastered metaphor
   ...

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Just watching raindrops slapping leaves
is better than anything requiring electricity
including fame and posterity. Monday
morning I walk over to the art museum
stand before Homer. I'm imagining
life...

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What the Stars Told Abraham (How to see like God)

Beloved, we wish you are right in what you write -
We are sworn to the truth...

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by Michaelw1two

 Thinking’s challenge is to weigh,
 all of one’s life substance;
 quandary thus, illogical fuss,
 which blinds the mind's acutance;
 adscititiously into thoughts bleed,
...

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Hybrids,
like a good creole stew,
are amazingly viral cooperators,
competitively so,
reacclimating tastes toward richer anticipations.

We have all heard of social capital
and natural capital,
of social democrats as antisocial...

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Hold each utopia minute close
Kiss them with lingering repose,
Tell someone you love them,
Leave the imprint to sink deep within.  
For their deeds could soon...

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you are all a lost generation -- Gertrude Stein ?

I

Once hallowed encephalon 
cavernous cerebral chasms
	now less serene 
		ruptured n' spleen
Subjected to ravenous days?
Days n' illumination?
n'...

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You are also a passerby 

Even such is time that flies away with hopes of
Being mortal. Even to say you are a millionaire
The minute to...

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"Eschaton"



This romance 
is mine is yours

I walk on water 
towards you

rebirth 
is a small freedom

so that your 
war weary mind

may finally feel 
your own resurrection...

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Opinionated- And It’s Eyes---


I awoke and flung my mind soul in the heaven
What could there be more purely seven?
'It's that lordship,' I muttered;
And am I...

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In November limbs are still
Thin against the dying light
From sylvan vale to hill
Poised in forms for us, contrite

Pergola bare with thorn 
The knuckles of the...

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When the cosmic horn blows
Enchanting soul and spirit, miles 

Apart.. Draw closer, it says and
Reach for glory...  With one mind, 
Egged by the mysterious...

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eschatology

                        ...

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