Best Gatekeepers Poems


The Gatekeepers of My Soul

In the deep blue realms of sadness
Floats the madness of my soul
No happy childhood dreams to cling to
No cherished memories left to hold

A crippled smile hides the weary miles
And scars carved deep within my heart
Ive searched this world for better horizons
But it seems those aspirations fall apart

Ive questioned God of my creation
And the reasons why im hear
But every time i think i see the light
The vision slowly disappears.

So ive made friends within these four walls 
With the gate keepers of my soul
And i cozy up to my madness
Alone in the dark and cold.
Categories: gatekeepers, crazy,
Form: Rhyme

Portrait of a Black Man

His granite form against blue skies
Rippling on the bulging eye, wild waves
Of muscles the netting cloud defies
Reason in concrete, his pride raves
In self glory of athleticism, what a gem
Hard and shadowed without a diadem.

I know that man, I lived inside him
Long ago, slurping applause like a child
Incomplete in potrait, morally dim
About the treasures I often defiled.
That man is just a screen of muscled skin
A pampered fear that won't give in.

He will not cry, because he was taught 
It's wrong for boys to show emotions
His destiny by a web of lies once caught
Leaves him lonely, old aspirations
Become wrinkled raisins in the callous sun
Manhood and wood subterfuge the pun.

Tired of being told he cannot become
From school to dull signs of no vacancy
I hears the sirens penning his freedom
He looked for himself, found no legacy
In history or family achievement that will
Stand up to the praise of gatekeepers ill.

He feeds his hungry urges into children
Fatherless because his woman must think
She cannot balance her budget with heaven
And for welfare cheque he's o'er the brink
Thrown, used, demonized, discarded, weak
Now, no virile glory left in love to seek.

He turns to her helpless in his helplessness
Angry with the impotence of history
Mute before her need to have forgiveness
The saddled statue slouches into misery.
You know him too, the black man, proned
Against pale paperbag of evening, stoned.

In Africa he was redeemed by mother, queen
When things fall apart, in America his old
Structures uprooted, he cannot be weaned
Of the nurture that never existed. The mold
Upon his life is history, and only the lover
Carrying the cross can be another redeemer.   

Look at him like a child asleep after his spawn
Of delapidated family and garrots of dream
Only ego keeps muscle bulging under the brawn
The heart is mute, and pride wil not scream 
For pain though like a white cataract it drowns
Him. How still the victim 'fore the victor frowns!
Categories: gatekeepers, black-african amerfamily, family, pride,
Form: Verse

Premium Member I Chose the Right Body Suit

You can return to earth for two days they said, 
but not in that worn out body.
I knew that; and I was glad; it was almost blind, 
and had a touch of dementia any way.
You have to go incognito, they told me. 
They were stern, and stuck up angels,
Not the kind I was expecting to meet my 
first hour in heaven. Assertive even.

Here were my body choices: fourteen year old boy, 
red hair, freckles, square chin.
Eighty-nine year old body, old lady, wrinkled, 
spotted hands, sweet smile, looked serene.
Or two-year-old female, blonde hair, plump and perfect.
I could not see their eyes, for the eyes do not appear 
until you enter the body suit.

Two-year-olds can be dancy-prancy.  But that would mean 
I would have to have gatekeepers in the form of parents, 
probably, and I wanted two days of freedom not naps.

Being eighty- nine did not appeal to me at all. 
I have never enjoyed arthritis in my feet or a humpback.
“Fourteen year old boy,” I told them. They nodded, 
being smug angels, and my self-chosen-spirit-guides for many lifetimes.

All of my relatives stared at the giggling freckled
red-haired teenage boy at my funeral.
They speculated that he had escaped from the
boys’ group home on the corner.
Every time one of them got up and said something 
nice about me, the boy burst out laughing.
They did not escort him out, because weirdly enough,
he had my witch-laugh, and it comforted them.
Categories: gatekeepers, spiritual,
Form: Lyric

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Situations

I am not retired, I am too young
 And too broke with too many dreams,
 I have promises I did not make hung
 Around my neck, and often screams
 At my potential to go ahead
 But every thing I touch lies dead.

 I paid my dues and went to school
 Did it all right supporting common law
 While gatekeepers invisible made the rule
 Building walls and growing claw
 It's not my fight for material right
 I am better at watching hawks in flight.

 I'm better at letting words seed my brain
 With images of trees, a fight is worth more
 For eternal things, even in the siorm of pain
 That in the lonely night cries on the shore
 Like waters in the wind. Water makes roots
 But dead branches make no fruits
Categories: gatekeepers, on work and working,
Form: Verse

Premium Member Butterflies

In summer my garden comes alive
as graceful butterflies make it home.
Peacocks with vivid colours flit
from blossom to blossom

Busily working gathering nectar
pollinating as they go on to next
flower. All so pretty I love them all
visiting my climbing rambling roses.

Red Admirals, Swallow tails and monarchs
adding swathes of brilliant colour
chased by Skippers and Orange tips
as each one vies for one more bloom.

While Gatekeepers and Clouded Yellows
delicately sip from my hibiscus.
A cloud of Fritillary's descend on stocks
and Painted Ladies mock the sweet peas.

A drone of bumble bees sets the tune
for Tortoiseshells to dance to.
Purple Emperors set the scene
as they visit my asters and begonia's.

Ah! sweet summer flowers, all
are kissed by Comma's  and Coppers
bringing my garden to life
with joy as they all busily work

written 08/12/2015
contest Skat's  Butterflies
Categories: gatekeepers, butterfly, flower,
Form: Personification

Premium Member Stay Together, Learn the Flowers, Go Light

1

At peace perhaps too much
a fine Spring rain
we seek news from the desert or capitol
of those who have dedicated their lives to losing their lives for us
adventurers, ancient honor, land runners
this campaign a must to advance one's career
a war president needs war

2

All you need to know is the names of things
chambers of commerce and large corporations
elements, products, decay fungi, egg masses
cultivars and their relation to wild grasses and the edge
uses of herbs, languages of mammals,
purposes of insects, placement of rocks
the names of everything by which we know our way

3

I've read about those remarkable souls who maintain self-control
among murderers and the unentertained multitude
who may have even spoken persuasively
at the right moment for speaking
and thus attracted a now unwanted immortality
there are only two ways you can tell
a bird of prey from a vision - humor and ritual

4

the Fedex gal
would be unlike taking off Emily Dickinson's clothes
over the counter perfume and spray paint hair
postman's shorts, black socks
a woman's legs are much like a man's
yet she too is beautiful, too beautiful, weekends
boating with her man

5

Suburbs, lawns, blankets
in a long, long nursery of babies
napping, old, blameworthy
and, I say this respectfully, blind
certain and uninterested
in motives more subtle than their immediate comfort
Who am I to complain?

6

Plants, poems: riches
our financial advisor doesn't count. Good and simple
a man as he is. Comes tousled
from early morning golf and puffy
from a late night fight or lovefest with his wife.
Inchworm
letting out its rope down an oak.

7

Late afternoon meeting
like the dry samara, achene or capsule surrounding a seed
how often have I tried to escape
my need, community, chamber of commerce
you cannot drive
the roads are theirs and the signs, perhaps
you can walk if you can name the plants and rocks and are willing to die

8

O happy family
there's some contentment in letting community and family decide
your place in it. Gatekeepers -
unconscious god, invisible hand, natural selection -
kind when refraining from violence
when not responding with force to the universe's effort
to extinguish us.
Categories: gatekeepers, adventure, family, god, happy,
Form: Verse


Angels Don'T Sing the Blues

Sent down from Heaven, their jobs are sure tough
But they don’t fly away when the going gets rough
They rise to the challenge to bring back wonder and hope
Failure does not happen in their line of work
Cuz’ Angels, no Angels,  they don’t sing the blues

Angels sing strong from the high mountain tops
Sometimes it’s a rock song to wake spirits up
Sometimes it’s a ballad when babies must sleep
Or a love song in country that just makes you weep
But Angels, no Angels, don’t sing the blues

They work behind the scenes to enlighten world faith
Always there when you need’em, our Heavenly base
They make house calls to heal another broken heart
Gatekeepers to the soul, they lighten the dark
The sky is the limit as only Angels can know

When times are a troubling,  their first on the scene
Not afraid to help out or even dirty their wings
The tune that they dance to, comes from Heaven above
Giving rhythm and gospel to everyone they love
Cuz’ Angels, no Angels,  they don’t sing the blues

And you know Angels can’t read music,
but they sure wing it well
As they learn from the Almighty,
Who swings with, the heartbeat of humanity,
From Heavens high hill

Angels sing strong from the high mountain tops
Sometimes it’s a rock song to wake spirits up
Sometimes it’s a ballad when babies must sleep
Or a love song in country that just makes you weep
But Angels, no Angels, don’t sing the blues

They just don’t sing the blues
No, Angels don’t sing the blues
Angels don’t sing the blues
Categories: gatekeepers, faith, inspirational, song-song, love,
Form: Lyric

The Revolution Will Be Televised

THE REVOLUTION WILL BE TELEVISED

All the news you can use is no longer completely controlled
      by CNN, ABC, CBS OR NBC,
The new GATEKEEPERS because of our cell phone, web cams
      and these new toys have become you and I.
Cops killing Black Folks, put on social media and the news
      spread all over for the world to see
That the land of milk and honey does not follow its own
      laws, and that Black folks continue to die
So the rich and famous will live off the sweat of our brow.

I am tired of being a third class citizen in a land my people
       helped to build, design and form,
Tired of walking on eggshells, being leery of people that my
       taxes pay to protect and serve.
Slavery still exists, subservience in the mind of our people
       is reaching the level of a class five storm
And we want deserve and demand our “HUMAN RIGHTS”
       and we also want to preserve
The dignity that comes with being born in THE GOOD OLE
       US OF A.

Reid J Lewis 11/30/2014
© Reid Lewis  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gatekeepers, black african american, destiny,
Form: Narrative

Year One - Part One

Tell me Eve,
does this Garden have everything we need,
do you think the walls are too tall,
are the gatekeepers reasonable, tolerable, right about it all,
what did Lilith know, where did she go
far past the mountain snow,
why does Father insist that we do not bleed,
why does He profess perfection like a pantomime
only to reinforce rules that stymie our affection,

The Angels are so quiet around the pond
musing over our naked naivety
smirking about our romantic creativity,
I hear things in the shapeless distance Eve, things colorful and unbound,
Father says I'm feral in my desire, doesn't know if we will shine,
I want you to be mine, out there Eve,
where the stars seem nervous for our redemption,
let's roll Eve, take that scroll,
in our dawn there is no wrong, no ruinous toll,
We're gonna start a New Age,
Year One, a couple that courage stole...

By Poet - Adam/J.A.B.
Categories: gatekeepers, bible, christian, desire, devotion,
Form: Epic

Tremors In Troy

I’m well rested on this bed of cold cement
With passersby borrowing me their eyes for a blanket
Oblivious to the fact that I now lay victorious 
Adding salt to my open wounds
   inglorious

I put words into action as my compass
With passion and determination my gate pass
And challenge the barriers that came and stood before
Internalised gatekeepers that I chose to ignore
   laugh at my insignificance
   feed on my intolerance
But still seek residence inside me like repressive laws
To the battlefields, to epic sword fights
To fears piercing hearts
To lies testing the truth
To honour giving birth
To a purpose, I fight for
Stand for, and am willing to die for

Every weakness a potential target
With the odds against me I must erect 
   a strong defence
And an even better offense
Irrational and methological 
Biblical and methodical
Sacrifices to the Gods and Zeus
Prayers to God and the unborn Jesus
And mast the highest sail
Strategies and plans of attack to foil
To propel my battleship with gale force winds
With canon fire passed sinking minds 

An army of ten thousand strong charging against
Whatever manner of creature may metamorphose
From the deepest part of my conscience
Troy was destroyed from within
Superstition, a weak mind to begin
   Arrogance 
   and self glorification a mental disease
The enemy will attack
Prepared, victory I will take
Categories: gatekeepers, emotions, feelings,
Form: Rhyme

Journey Through Time

I left California a week ago Sunday.
Alone with my map, I found the way.
Initial trepidation gave way to wonder.
Beauty of the land enhances the spell I'm under.

From Novato to Tahoe, the drive was slow.
Allowing the remembrance of freeway driving to grow.
Expecting Nevada to be a long, boring drive.
The high desert vistas permitted my juices to thrive.

The interplay of clear blue sky and the light
Creating wondrous hues and vistas of pure delight.
Drifting along with the tumbling tumbleweeds,
A wide-mouth frog carved in the mountainside winked at me.

A ribbon of highway stretched across the Salt Flats.
Looking more like the desert I expected awhile back.
The Great Salt Lake out of nowhere appears
Glistening in the sun like a clear, shiny mirror.

Turning south in Salt Lake City, a planned detour
The Utah rock stars I wanted to explore.
The landscape changed as ever higher I climbed.
Mesas in the distance of color sublime.

Zion and Bryce Canyons... magnificent to behold
Paled in significance as Route 12's glories unfold.
Each bend and curve created a new scene.
From pure, sheer red rock to pine mountains of green.

Land of the Anasazi, the Ancient Ones.
Lived in Boulder, Utah; an oasis in the sun.
The Escalante Grand Staircase is dedicated to them.
Feeling their energy as I traveled the rim.

Torrey to Moab and Arches Monument Park
The formations of red rocks truly touched my heart.
Guardians, gatekeepers, animals, angels and more
Chiseled in stone that was once the ocean floor.

Petrified sand dunes spread before my eyes.
A white rolling desert of rock under clear blue skies.
Opening again to wondrous chiseled formations.
Natural arches and windows of the mountain nations.

Treated myself to lunch in the “Eklektica Cafe”
Met a young man there who made my day.
He gave me the perfect response to "Why Boulder?”
Tell them, he said, “I'll let you know when it's over.”

Touring now behind me. I'm ready to roll
Heading full-steam to Colorado; pine and aspen to behold.
As I cross the border, I am greeted by a sign.
“Welcome to Colorful Colorado. The Trail Through Time.”

I have come full circle somehow I knew
Driving along, I remembered each view.
While there is no ocean; rivers and lakes abound.
It feels very much like I'm homeward bound.
Categories: gatekeepers, nature, blue, red,
Form: Couplet

Gatekeeper of My Heart

You hold the flame that tamed my heart
That came to me in the light of the dark
On fire from the very start
Life itself could not pry our love apart
Meeting in the middle like a dancing fiddle
That sings out like a weeping willow

That reflects from the glisten 
Out of the corner of your eyes
Have I ever felt a love that testifies
No matter how hard I try 
Finding the kind of love that you supply
That makes your heart touch the sky

A love that makes all life's special moments magnify
Like the sun dances off the morning dew
Through and through I will always love you
The woman who holds the key to my heart
From the moment we met you ignited amazing sparkes
Touching my soul as our love unfolds

That makes my life so fancy and new
Making all my dreams come true
Oh gatekeeper of my heart 
How I loved you right from the very start

Let us never tear our love apart
Or take it for granted
Because of the kind of love we planted
Is forever enchanted in our hearts
Where we keep all the amazing starts
Categories: gatekeepers, romantic love,
Form: Ballad

Visa Walls

A repetitive stamp on a passport
can expedite our joyous first meeting.
Love spurs a nervous heart
towards a new, unknown life.

Papers collected and shuffled,
we pray for official acceptance.
The gatekeepers eyes penetrate
with suspicious glares of denial.

The bureaucracy divides the masses.
A mother, a brother, a lover
denied access to greater connections.
Mercy is not spoken by the immigration clerk.

Phone calls, email, and goods travel across borders.
People are not granted such freedom.
What is the price to enter the fortress?
Only those with fat bank accounts enter this land.

I would risk prison to touch your warm hands,
clasp your sweet face between my palms,
inhale the tender aroma of your fine silk hair,
graze the soft delicacies of your smooth skin.

Where must we flee to share a moment together?
Free from the interrogations of the government forms.
Is there a place on this globe for lovers?
Where fences give way to fertile orchards.
© Wayne Hill  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gatekeepers, love, political, social,
Form: Free verse

When Our Stories Shall Be Told

When 
our 
stories 
shall 
be 
told 
and 
our 
chronicles 
opened:sad 
empty 
tales. 
Who 
will 
not 
spit 
and 
denounce 
such 
shameful 
tales?, 
what 
eye 
shall 
prode 
on 
it 
without 
reeling 
a 
curse.                
An 
era 
that 
polished 
their 
gourds 
with 
the 
blood 
of 
their 
dead 
and 
in 
it 
intered 
their 
natal 
milk. 
What 
eye 
shall 
view 
such 
shame? 
What 
tongue 
shall 
tell 
such 
tales?
Such 
stories...such 
history,let 
it 
forge 
a 
pole 
star,to 
draw 
our 
feet 
lest 
we 
stumble 
again,or 
our 
children 
consider 
an 
ominious 
alternative 
as 
we 
did.
Promising 
though 
it 
sounds;beguilling 
in 
fact 
that 
history 
teaches 
us 
nothing,than 
the 
nostalgic 
euphoria 
of 
once 
upon 
a 
time. 
It 
grinds 
frenzied 
chronicles 
into 
an 
inert 
dust 
of 
mere 
reminiscence 
and 
few 
leave 
the 
detritus 
unaltered.
Even 
the 
remains,though 
authentic 
or 
hoax,complete 
or 
distorted 
kicks 
us 
in 
the 
face 
and 
we 
ferry 
them 
like 
gatekeepers 
across 
the 
river 
of 
greed 
as 
a 
frivolous 
otiose 
hanging 
painfully 
on 
our 
neck.
So 
when 
our 
stories 
shall 
be 
told,either 
by 
groits 
or 
paid 
minstrels;of 
our 
self 
inflicted 
doom. 
What 
ear 
shall 
hear 
such 
tales:sad 
tragic 
stories 
and 
not 
laugh 
mournfully.
© Light Obi  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: gatekeepers, social
Form: Free verse

Gatekeepers of the Land of the Free

From what I have seen
America is a well-oiled machine
Our military always ready to fight
Together with so much might
Leaving their homes night after night
Saying goodbye believing it's not your last sight
Living in a hole with rations and a bedroll
Or on a battleship ready to rip as they skip
To the next flip
In the air, so they can take care of our guys
As they buzz the sky blowing their targets up From way up high

Trained to shoot
Giving our enemies the boot
Standing proudly always ready to salute
The best at bagging America's enemies
So we might know this land of the free
Home to you and me	
Our sons and daughters they stand and fight
For our constitutional right
They constantly keep sight wearing their dog tags
Ready to go to their grave in any conflict wave

They pave the way so the rest of us
Have a world that's not ready to bust
Never look at what they do with disgust
Trust our generals do it because they must   
The people of the world need to stand strong   
So today's leaders will have to get along
 
Keeping balance in the kingdom of God  
Like a lightning rod ,all take their oath with a nod 
Live or die you will never hear them asking why
Americas bravest they fought the wars        	
So we might know this land of the free
This land God blessed for you and me

Let us all see our military is why we live free
Be sure and pray that they all find their way
Unfortunately, some are left as reminders
Of the price we had to pay for their valor
Until their last day

Be sure you stand up and say
Thank you for your service today
For the sacrifices you have made along the way
So we might know this land God blessed
For you and me

So we can live free 
Because our brothers and sisters
Gave up so much for you and me
They are still the gatekeepers
That holds the key
To why this land is still free
Like God intended it to be
Categories: gatekeepers, military,
Form: Narrative
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