Best Furnished With Poems
You Are The One I think of the most.You know and carry unconditional love.You have experienced the pains of pains.When You're not in My presence to walk with Me;My mind carries You and holds You deep in thought.The pureness that grows from Good devours The Evil...The walls of Your Heart fall down and open into fields No One Else can possible reach,love,know,or roam.The Wisdom of Your Fields develop and rules Valleys.Valleys expand into Vast Kingdoms filled with Knowledge,Power,and Intelligence...Across The Horizon lies The Kingdom of Heaven in boundaries of grey only a Lion Heart can visualize.The Strength of a Castle is built by Your Own two hands held by Fate.Only a Lion Heart has the keys to open the doors and the ability to cross through the rooms furnished with Destiny untold.A candle is lit.You pace the rhythm with a steady beat.Your Heart restores The Eternal Light with-in.Truth becomes factual.The Greenness of Facts unfold into Beautiful Gardens. Among The Gardens indescribable Rays of Hope appear with Faith as Your Spirit.Your Spirit becomes excelled by love.... LOVE Blossoms into The Reality of Freedom. Freedom is enhanced by Courage...The Courage of A Lion Heart that holds Forgiveness for All. With-in Your Heart A Garden of desire is standing firm and grounded...Could it be possible that You have A Lion Heart? Respect,Understanding,Love;that is Everlasting Serenity... I often wonder where this comes from as an Orion of ringing appears undetectable in Ones Ears... The Lion roars and The Angels sing softly with an inner Peace.May Your Gift of Acceptance Shine-On...From A Creator;to an Angel,better yet A Lion Heart.Walk among The Winners just for Today...
By Charlene L. Wilcox 03-24-2014
THE HOUSE THAT GOD BUILT 2/22/03
My soul resides in the house that God built,
it was placed there with no shame, no worries, no guilt.
As long as I live there, I’ll be on easy street,
Any and everything I need and want for will be handed to me on a silver platter.
My God holds has all of the clout.
It’s furnished with Agape love, and it’s homey presence is filled abundantly with a
Heavenly sense of God The Father & His Jesus His Son.
The omnipotent one whose sacrifice is greater a gift than I’ll ever know,
And His grace and mercy is everlasting, yet His beauty is constant to bestow.
While in the house that God built, I’ll stay focus wholeheartedly towards Thee,
And if I fall short or fall by the wayside my Father will set my soul free.
No bricks, no stone, no wood nor clay, I just repent and trust Him and he leads the way.
This house will never falter nor fall, as long as on Jesus
The original builders name I call.
a day will come
when all my anguish
will vanish
and my sadness
turn into happiness
free from the whips and chains
which feeds me with pains
far will i be
from the land
of hatred and jealousy
from the life which inflict me
with emotional agony
and cloths my path
with tragedies and mysteries
lay me a bed of cruelty
but a day will come
when time will look
at me with sympathy
when life will smile at me
for success will be my lover
and failure my enemy
a clean spirit
do not have a place in hell
for heaven is the place he dwells
so poverty i wish you farewell
because am departing from hell
and heaven is my next destination
away from the discrimination
and the intimidation
when that day comes
my night will turn to a day
and the sunshine
will make me a hay
i will enjoy the fruits
of my labor
have happiness every dinner
for i have reached the land
where joy is divine
and all that is beauty
now is mine
wonderful thought seducing me
to my prosperity
for birds only fly
and that is their destiny
i am a mansion
built with wisdom
and furnished with freedom
the doors of my heart
opened to the future
and my hunted past gone forever
escaped from the land of fear
i now live where
life is very fair
conquered the psychological welfare
in my struggle
have i learnt something
nothing can compare
i don't walk with hate
but now walk with faith
I first met her on a holiday at Shuklaphanta Wildlife Reserve.
Love strikes me like lightning when I saw her,
so powerful and intense it can’t be denied.
It turns me inside out,
and there was no going back from it.
Once the thunderbolt hits, my life irrevocably changed.
With a carved stem-thin figure,
And sparkly appearance.
Her pencil-thin eyebrows,
eased down gently to her velvety,
Eyelashes.
Her beauty is the celebrity's cute wind-swept
twisting through
the late evening's darkening heavens.
Her smile shines stunningly
like the sun rising over the skyline,
her luminous, heavenly-white teeth flashed
as she pawed at me with her flick star nails.
Her gorgeousness is the stars
that is now quivering into view
as their star shine ends its life journey
as a whim I am.
Her enticing, constellation-blue eyes
gazed at me
over her syrup-sweet lips,
She had a springy character
and a syrupy voice, which I idolized.
She is like a candle's flickering flame,
radiating a soft warm light into me.
Her hair was ebony-black
and it tumbled over her shoulders.
Her beauty shines from the inside out,
It flows like a journey down a long route.
Those sugar candy-sweet lips,
her well-designed personality,
all awestruck me.
Her eyes sparkle like a bright star in the sky,
seek out the good in me.
Her body ornately furnished with typically girlish curves,
Her voguish garments still kept enslaved an odor evocative
of lemony fresh and floral-fresh mint.
It loitered in the apartment long after she had gone.
My country is the beautiful sun
My country is not the hard winter
My country is an often green Eden
Always languid and tropical at dawn.
It’s a country where the crowing of roosters
Revives everybody every morning
It’s a country furnished with filthy slush and rocks
Where nature is a vast and miserable garden.
It's a country full of horrid stories
Where slaves and decent people are revolted
Against greedy settlers and bloody buccaneers
It’s where only macabre memories exist.
In this awful and morose atmosphere
Where I banter all that is negative
I will build positive monuments
I will dream and recite fables.
My country is the moonlight
Which gives hope and strength to fight
Against masked and zombified
Bogeymen. Oh! God, I hold no grudges.
My country is the ever positive imagination
Presently, I don't want to denounce anyone
However, I will silence the chiming bells
Oh! It's sad to see my people on the exodus
Near the evacuative shores.
P.S. Gilles Vigneault, this poem is
For you and our people.
Copyright © January 2023, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Revolutionary evolutionary
Heartful constitutions
Lovers constructing
Contributions contorts
Contours, all sides a winner
Armies of DREAMERS
WE are redeemers
Consecutive notions
If we begin we are beginners
Heavily measured DEVOTIONS
Affiliated positives
Once SCREAMED
THE BEST THINGS IN LIFE ARE FREE
and the corners of the WORLD are
Furnished with a song not yet sung
Blessed be the birds and bees
Strum down low
A guitar STROKE
Strum up glow
A GESTURE, a hope
A fluid atmosphere, infectious
Ambiance is here.
Revolutions STOKE the hearts aflare
Free aflame afire
Inquire multiplier of fame escort
One ply one try
What cost
Multiple efforts
Floral fashions flourishing actions.
Asking freedom festers festivals
Basking in ever GLOWING
EVOLUTIONS everlasting
Effortlessly REVOLUTIONIZE
THE WORLD, EVOLVING
"Democracy don't rule the world,
You'd better get that in your head;
This world is ruled by violence,
But I guess that's better left unsaid" - Bob Dylan
He sits on a throne well furnished with sweat, blood and tears
of many who have cursed and loathed him across the valleys,
deserts, and mountains.
He claims he's their king, but they see him as their emperor;
one who has taken away their kings, their way of living,
their heritage, their lands.....
A dozen warriors follow him everywhere he goes,
for he knows the wrath of people whose rights
and freedoms have been taken away.
As a prisoner of his own device,
he hides from his own freedom, for he cannot eat, converse,
sleep, or dream as a free-man.
A sword, cross-bow, and loyal warriors are his only companions.....
Castello di Amore Parte 1
A million yellow bricks for you,
Cut, from the quarry of my soul
I work both day and night,
A willing lovers toll
Over lands, the stones I carry
To the place that you have found,
Blue skies and rich, loamy soil,
Our future promise abounds.
The home is built together,
Mortar is our Love
Furnished with feelings gold,
We will, have more than enough
Tending the land as one,
Ancient and rusty vines
Soon, heavy with purple fruit
We laugh and make our wine
The heady scent of olives,
Growing in our grove,
We relish the salty taste,
A discovery we both know.
Years ease past,
They're kind to us.
We enjoy growing old.
Features gently blur,
But our yellow bricks still glow
You still laugh at me,
And I, still smile at you,
The later years we hold,
Take on a special hue.
A longtime ago,
I made the yellow bricks for you.
Cut, from the quarry of my soul.
You laughed and held my hand,
My Heart, you made me Whole.
Castello di Amore Parte 2
I lie on our bed,
You hold my hand.
Not long left, in our beautiful land.
Darkness quickens around me so,
I hear your voice, please don't go.
Squeezing your hand, one last time.
I am yours and you are mine.
Your last kiss.
Was my tear.
We will smile again
My beautiful Fear.
A season later,
You drink our wine,
You taste the love,
Both yours and mine.
You follow the path
Back to our home
On this walk,
You're never alone
You hold me tight,
Then close your eyes,
And I lift you up,
To the burnished skies.
Perdonami amore mio
Castello di Amore Parte 3
Rising to the heavens,
Floating on your smile,
We've a long way to go,
It will take a while.
Your hand in mine
I've watched you from above,
for some time.
You look so happy.
You are truly free.
Finally.
I am you,
and you are me.
Souls connect,
Atoms collide.
Our house,
the horizon wide.
We are the sun,
the rain,
wind,
And the summers tide.
Together,
amongst the stars,
Nothing to fear,
Even less to hide.
The Universe is ours.
Never growing old,
Rising with the morning sun,
We watch our house of gold.
Let me take you back,
To a time trapped in amber.
When the World’s Fair weary,
Surely did clamber.
For a place to rest,
They came upon Mudgett’s.
Such inexpensive board,
Who could begrudge it?
Such a quaint little place,
To lay their labored heads.
Unless murderous intent,
Accompanied, purchased beds.
He would walk the floors,
Of his murderous castle.
As he practiced his trade,
The serial cessation of vassals.
When guests reached their room,
They were locked in from outside.
On silent unscented wings,
His pestilence did glide.
Filling the room,
And sets of lungs besides.
Hundreds may have wept,
And eventually died.
Finally word got around,
About a hotel of blackened dread.
Furnished with crimson carpet,
And walls speckled red.
Based on Herman Mudgett's murder castle during the 1893 World's Fair.
For the Sinister poetry competition.
03/25/13
Of lavish love the poets write
to whom their love bestow
But what of love
and what it's like
to be the one who is adored?
I've known this staggered heart
an adoration one yields divine
and of this sacred sacrament took part
then retreated from its faith like mine
Once, before illusions of protection
veiled by confident speech
crumbled wholly thou innocent projection
of the visions it had seen
Showered with waters sweetened earnest
till it's naked wells drank tears like rain
yet the soul of the one who's heart was burnished
now reflected fear that must flee all impression of pain
An object of worship at the core
'twas meant for The Lord on high
of men and angels a gift explored
for the imperfect begs the question of why?
And yet once loved with adoration
furnished with a reverence meant for God
what hope remains to know raptures imitation
but for the masquerade of a clever facade?
Perhaps this explains why poets express
extravagant love only given
such devotion transgress's the love it profess's
and this prison is a high price for the wisdom
I think I just experienced first hand
Consciousness
Cradled in the bosom of epiphany
Inspiration expunged from my fathers naval wake up call
Calling all hands on deck make a break
My call to arms each day
Formative dream educed sleep filled eyes oh sound awake
Was our lesson this
So long as we power the will to awake
We have been gifted the opportunity this day again
The chance to make our wrongs right
I don’t believe tomorrow comes furnished with any guarantee
Maybe just maybe today be my end of days
The moment fate hath predetermined
Today to late yesterday spurned
Departing such sweet sorrow
Non the wiser
Lesson not learned
Humilities bridge burned
Reduced all but to a desolate bed of frozen smouldering ashes
The End
Coming home to this empty apartment,
seem's so dishartning,
In my heart compartment,
no signs of life,
says a man, with no wife,
sultry and dull, as evening sets in,
no tails a waggin, no doggie spins,
filled with air, so thick and dry,
seems all I can do in this apartment, is cry,
It's time to fill it with happiness and joy,
maybe some kids, and lots of their toys,
oh yes, a dog and a cat,
you can bet, for sure they'll be that,
now furnished with laughter and joy,
for now, my apartment,
I much do enjoy......
Docked on an opposite shore,
peering through round portholes
as the river who flowed me to different landscapes
slips past, current furious:
not quite a pleasure cruise.
No swimming pools splashing over onto the smooth wood
of a polished deck furnished with plastic,
but stormy excursions into the foamy sea,
threats of sinking, of capsizing, of mutiny.
I miss that ocean; I didn’t think
I would love him so much,
but, after my boat wobbled in the foam
and I slipped into the sea without a life-vest,
after I submerged my head with the dolphins and squids
and waited for the water to transform me
into a finned mermaid with oysters in my hair,
I felt at home in its salty swiftness,
safe in its kelpy arms, hidden in its coral fortresses.
And when my tongue, dried from salt and solitude,
began to salivate for the buttery sunshine,
something issued an anchor
into the sockets where my wisdom teeth once grew,
and I surfaced, dripping salt water, breathing.
And although the chain between us
has since grown rusty with tugging and pulling,
new docks, different boats and captains,
the sea is still easily crossed,
as easily as music attaches itself
to cold moonlight.
So, maybe our boat has hit a few icebergs –
but the Eskimos have patched the holes
with pine needles and chocolate syrup;
and the boiler room doesn’t make me sweat and sigh–
but it leaves me with a tight chest and
the warmth felt when,
returning after a long voyage, you finally see
the shores of home .
I love you still, brother:
and the sails are full of wind.
Rising again, furnished with a bright dream
That led me to a noble path, graced with loving memories
So, i'm moving away from moment of despair
Looking to continue loving my purpose in life
For I refused to give up my treasured dream
Find meaning from every trial, with hope in my pocket
So, I had faith to keep going on, rising again and again-
-And planting seeds of hope with devoted heart
Making me a sailor with triumphant dream
Ready to move on, withstand other storms
While listening to melodies from deep waters
Charming my spirit, and making me embrace new sense of being
So, I keep rising, and rising again, love waiting on my new path
To carry me through a fulfilling journey
For I always believed, happines is forever in the midst of everything
Anytime, everywhere, it will always come to free me
My life, reduced to a theory,
written by those I once served.
Furnished with tales of honour
and shame, they summoned me,
tried me unfairly,
and shot me at Hango Hill.
For hours, I bore in agony and anguish,
until the burning pain turned
to death’s icy chill.
I often wonder if that fatal shot
condemned me as a traitor?
Because one could rightly argue
I have the status of a martyr!
That bullet may have stopped my heart,
but my name shall prevail!
For I, Iliam Dhone am Mann,
Leader of Manx Rebellion,
I am the state.
As Receiver General, I lived
to serve my people.
Their struggles, my own;
they, a divided nation,
Was I the driving force of evil?
Or was I a glimmer of hope for those
in depths of despair?
Struggling with death and damnation,
they turned to me for hope.
Can hope prevail without faith?
Hark Ye! Some had faith in me!
Was their faith misplaced?
Now, you decide - I, Iliam Dhone
Am I, hero or villain?