Best Heavenward Poems
You'll find it in the crimson eyes
of a throwaway photo somehow frozen in time.
When the past painted us like demons
with secret fury.
And you'll find it in the smell of a burning memory
like melting microfilm becoming enraged
(gifted with the freedom to deny
first appearances)
You'll find it in the cedar smoke
of Tyndale's earthen cage
roasting in a bale of hay for crimes unknown.
Where the fire of his message burned mighty
through a thousand hungry hearts that day
(where ancient ink once again
took a detour into youthful veins)
You'll find it in the velvet ash
of a (just one more) cigarette
being flippantly flicked into December sky
for reasons unknown.
Where yellowed fingernails bear witness
of freedom to live and freedom to die,
leaving not an inch of space to analyze;
for the fickle flames - much like life -
waits for no one.
You'll find it in the platinum tendrils
of a Colt 45, that so quickly took a life,
in the burning heat of an eternal second.
Where curled fingers and steady stare
makes it painfully aware
freedom is a pitiful beauty, ugly as sin,
and as right as rain
(ask the victims of Hiroshima --- they'll tell the same)
You'll find it in the vermilion sky
blazing brighter than passion pure;
stopping the world gears, of rat-race routine,
and turning a thousand rusty necks Heavenward
Where minds silently unhinge (for a moment)
And fear itself begins to cringe (for a moment)
When faced with childlike wonder
blind eyes will see.
A rejuvenating spark
this freedom can be.
And you'll find it the explosion of ecstasy
like a rose blooming in tenacious time-lapse.
You'll find it in the Cherokee midnight dance,
being warmed by the tongues of freedom personified.
Where Common Sense no longer applies,
for when freedom found his heart's desire,
you know it was a compromise.
Losing his mind, and losing his life,
in the process of a martyrdom
for all things beautiful and all things temporary,
in its earthly essence
... where freedom finds the fire,
you can't tell the difference.
Written March 23rd, 2016
For the Where The Freedom Finds the Fire Contest Hosted by Justin Bordner
Love begins with joy,
sidestepping thought ploy,
sharing and caring,
with all souls pairing.
Love is not a trade,
nor assigns a grade;
it's a warm embrace,
akin to God's grace.
Bliss bubbles passion
is love's compassion,
holding each soul near;
all to our heart dear.
When true love's seeded,
no echo's needed,
for the flame burns on,
each breath a new dawn.
Like the pristine dew,
each love hue is new,
magic on display,
making earth life play.
Fires of love let's stoke
in heart to invoke,
bliss fragrance sublime,
to heavenward climb.
21-August-2022
HMS, Rhymezone
The Meaning of Love Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
Tonight, a montage is brushed with a splendor
of glazed branches : an arrangement of russet
teal and orange; dappled wisps enticing
my spirit for a pilgrim beyond my own angst.
In pure delight, tendrils of leaves are aflame
through the glory of a varnished summer.
Feathery rims unfurl in dotted patterns
adorning a cherry tree with iridescent flush
as its arms seem to layout
the stencils of hours' burdens.
Yet, miniature stars flicker on its robe
this cherry timber blowing heavenward,
perhaps content in the radiance
of its caressed blooms and harvest,
glazed by rapture of nature's lasting charm .
...................
Brian Strand's Whitsun Premiere Contest
Ten Thousand White Butterflies
Soft walls undulate like liquid steel
Metamorphic pulsations
Iridescent glow
Spiritual guides
Ushering departed souls
Rippling contractions
From cocoon-like womb
Bringing forth new breath
Replenishing blown out candles
Eyes scrunched
Painful cry
Drowned out by the rustling
One thousand butterflies taking flight
Soaring
Luminescent
Snowflake-like beings
Spreading their light
Within the night
Eternity is born
A baby raises his tiny fists
Mother's tears turn to joy
Floating heavenward on delicate wings
Announcing
Beating
Singing
A child is born
Written with Monterey Sirak.
Thankyou for letting me join you in flight!
The Holy Dust of Creation’s Seed Sown
Born from this ancient dust of creation's seed sown now so true,
Whilst sparkling inside a mystical divine light on this dark night,
I’m nourished from the living waters—the oceans deep and blue.
Majestic wings rise high in the waves basking in Heaven’s light,
Crowning the blest halo golden ring around this angel very dear,
Whilst I kiss warmly the salt of the deep oceans stirring at night.
Spiced now in a seabed, a rainbow’s gem shineth pure so clear,
That a traveler in this radiant world of delight knows real love
Is what we all seek as sparkling diamonds now appear so near.
Where the rivers flow down a mountain’s verdant slope because
There, in the highs and lows of these rivers, tears soak the Earth,
Falling and rising from the dust, ashes are memories of what was.
I have abounding faith in this life’s bond as Nature begins her rebirth,
Eclipsed by a peerless beauty inside, wild passions grown now strong.
A liquid sphere appears in our mortal lives reaching its point of girth.
In the cerulean oceans mystic gulls cry deep echoes bringing us along.
We find peace kneeling as a psychic mantel covers our thoughts pure,
As that special circle of brilliance radiates within life’s treat so strong.
By God’s hand the ancient dust of creation’s seed is with us to assure,
Mankind’s perpetuity on Earth as part of His most holy divine vision.
Only God knows mankind’s destiny rests in His divine hands for sure.
The ancient dust of creation’s seed is part of God’s omnipotent precision,
For He’s the one who shall guide us all heavenward by His final decision.
Gary Bateman, Michael Clarke, and Liam McDaid
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
June 10, 2017 (Terza Rima)
Terza Rima Rhyming Sequence: aba bcb cdc ded efe fgf ghg hh
Format Note: This poem employs the traditional rhyming scheme used by
Dante Alighieri in “The Divine Comedy,” ending with a couplet, rhyming
with the previous tercet’s middle line.
Seems to me the more I age
My fondness for trees only grows
Their resilience and gracefulness
Their symmetry and beauty
Their arms outstretched heavenward
As if asking to be blessed with a nest for life
But it’s the way they bravely face each season
No fanfare just day by day
Making the most of their assets
Offered freely to all taking the time to appreciate
Every gnarly curve earned though hardship
Broken branch and injury
Radiant in the sun Solemn by moonlight
Valiant through the rainstorm
Resolute against snow and sleet
Naked… Buds… Foliage… Dried falling leaves
And naked again the cycle regenerates itself
Such is life on this beautiful planet
AP: 1st place 2022, 2nd place 2020, 3rd place 2024, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2022, Honorable Mention 2022
Submitted on August 29, 2018 for contest END AUGUST 2018 STANDARD sponsored by BRIAN STRAND - RANKED 1ST
Tonight, I marveled at a magnificent full moon hanging in the Colorado sky!
It spread its mellow glow upon snow-capped Pikes Peak, so pleasing to the eye!
Contemplating its beauty as I gazed heavenward in awe,
It occurred to me that this was the very same moon that Jesus saw!
Robert L. Hinshaw, CMSgt, USAF, Retired
Ah! To be adrift upon the boundless sea sailing, sailing, sailing!
Alone with the sea and pristine sky with southerly winds prevailing.
No particular destination in mind as upon the surging sea I plod,
Nor is there another soul in view as I quietly commune with God!
Ah! To be alone at night in the desert pondering, pondering, pondering!
I lie to refresh my weary bones after a day of vagabond wandering,
Savoring the soothing quietude with gentle zephyrs caressing my face,
Gazing heavenward as constellations wink at me from outer space!
Ah! To scale the highest mountain where even eagles dare not fly!
The precious solitude of it all! I can reach out and touch the sky.
Such divine inspiration it brings to this mere mortal's languid soul,
As God's Creation beyond is revealed for me to relish and extol!
Ah! To amble down a forest path when autumn leaves adorn the trees!
Gold and crimson leaves waft about me, stirred by an occasional breeze.
I'm awed by the Master Artist's handiwork no mere artist dare portray.
This priceless solitude and beauty I shall treasure forever and a day!
Ah! To lie 'neath a shade by a rippling stream and dream, dream, dream!
Watching vagabond clouds scudding across the sky in solitude supreme!
I suppose there are folks who prefer to mingle with the multitude,
But I treasure time alone to muse and write in peaceful solitude!
Entry for Line Gauthier's "The Beauty of Solitude" Contest
When once I pondered whence came the stars
With bated breath and rapid pulse
I let my spirit loose to fly
To the source of my concern.
Pollux was first to welcome my quest
And I shouted, “Why are there stars?”
“A dragon’s sneeze, with blazing glow
Birthed my neighbor and myself.”
“Why are there stars?” of Altair I asked.
He grudgingly barked a reply.
“Methuselah’s birthday candles
Blew embers strewn heavenward!”
With spirit weary, I ventured on
With many more stars left to source.
“Why are there stars?” was my anthem
Until fully satisfied.
Vega had to hold back a giggle
When faced with my inquiry
“Atalanta now wears Nike’s
Cleats poking holes to the gods.”
With one more cluster to hit I flew
“Why are there stars” my only words
But never in my pondering
Could I picture what was said.
“When your father passed ten years ago
He obsessed of your fear of dark.
He never rests, or takes a break
But hangs nightlights for your peace.”
June 26, 2018
Solitude
Walking alone
Often outside
In deep thought
About things of
Great importance.
I wonder aloud
Thoughts amassed
Priorities now
Solutions not clear
Seeking inspiration.
Time’s fleeting
Which is always
Tied to many
Dynamic actions
Begging resolution.
I stop now—
And look heavenward
Solutions abound
Choices are difficult
I’m staying focused.
Use my intuition
Request divine help
Do Nothing
Take your pick
Nothing’s easy.
My soul’s focus
Trust yourself—
First and foremost
God speaks silently
Do it now!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
(January 27, 2015) (Accentual Meter)
A wondrous spirit of true love now softly murmurs its echo
On the wings of God’s angels, as they ascend heavenward.
This and more occurs as radiant cultured pearls begin dancing
Their magical-mystical dance deliciously in the oceans deep.
With this, the bright-blue-mirrored waves of the oceans move
In a melodious tempo of love with the pearls as they dance.
Caressing the heavenly sparkles rippling deep in the oceans’ waves,
An enchanted diamond-cut glass now trembles and shatters loudly!
At this moment, a mermaid of angelic pulchritude takes her divine
Throne as the mystical dance continues throughout the late night.
Crystal chimes begin sounding pure with a fire and fury of emotions
Within our hearts, as they excite our passions palpably and exquisitely!
The candlelight’s effulgent reflection in this moment transfixes me true,
By your warm and loving touch and the magic of your presence with me.
Coloring and scenting the air surpasses all others as the breathless and
Honeycombed eminence of your being touches the depths of my soul!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – July 21, 2018
GOD’S SHADOW/for contest
There were prayers – hollow, empty – prayers.
Oh, the hands were folded, heads bowed,
voices muffled in saint-like submission,
reverberating the words – following
as children do - just a little behind.
Prayers of supplication, beseeching forgiveness
for the unimaginable sin of being born – in sin.
Humble prayers of thanks that “we” were not like “them”,
that “we” would be saved by this God of unconditional
and unreciprocated love.
We prayed “in the shadow of the church”, literally
its twin spires towering above us, we prayed in
the “belly of the beast” – bright, shiny, gold, frankincense,
and murmurs of a past. Silenced before the idled saints
frozen in eternal heavenward gestures.
I hid the child, protected him, allowed him time
to find peace with himself, to learn to trust
in the beauty of a flower, touch the truth in
solemn strength of twisted Elm, hear the
near soundless song of the flowing river.
Upon awakening, we joined souls and prayed.
Giving thanks for the strength that held us as one,
the tenacity to continue to live, courage to know
there is a “god” and we are one.
I am the shadow of that “god”.
John G. Lawless
5/18/2015
submitted to – Prayertime Memories – Poetry Contest
sponsor – Isaiah Zerbst
Winter’s newborn fusses in blustered billows;
Colicked thunder rumbles from tantrumed lightning.
Blossoms nursing heavenward – April showers.
Christened is springtime
And so they sat, this learned three
in full pursuit of liberty,
the turkey, eagle and the dove
looked down upon them from above.
The declaration almost writ
they rubbed their chins a little bit;
looked heavenward, and there espied
their feathered friends, as one they cried:
The perfect symbol he would be
to represent our great country!
His visage shall our seal adorn
To celebrate our new land born!
But harmony became dissent
as three ways now their discourse went;
voicing long as they were able -
till three bird splats hit the table.
Silenced now, the conversation
at this triple defecation,
the trio must now make a pact:
clean up the table, and their act.
Full focused now, the case was laid
for each bird, compliments were paid,
pausing only, eyes a-goggle
at the turkey’s goofus gobble.
Despite their eloquential might
they could not make their choice take flight;
just as they made their virtues soar
another splat would hit the floor.
The birds, enjoying now this game
attempt to calibrate their aim;
to make their mark and thus complete
the declaration at their feet.
The Dove, descending from his perch
aghast at our trio’s besmirch;
peppering poop across their stage
like little stars across the page.
The turkey, not to be outdone
slicked back his crop and took a run;
with several rather clumsy wipes
he bathed the document with stripes.
The Eagle watched with some disdain
his adversaries stock now wane;
their lust for glory now long gone -
he knew he was the chosen one.
The Eagle may have won the day
his image is still used today;
but Dove and Turkey may still brag -
they made the stars and stripes your flag.
Heavenly Hallucinations of Love’s Divine Destiny
A wondrous spirit of true love now softly murmurs its echo
On the wings of God’s angels, as they ascend heavenward.
This and more occurs as radiant cultured pearls begin dancing
Their magical-mystical dance deliciously in the oceans deep.
With this, the bright-blue-mirrored waves of the oceans move
In a melodious tempo of love with the pearls as they dance.
Caressing the heavenly sparkles rippling deep in the oceans’ waves,
An enchanted diamond-cut glass now trembles and shatters loudly!
At this moment, a mermaid of angelic pulchritude takes her divine
Throne as the mystical dance continues throughout the late night.
Crystal chimes begin sounding pure with a fire and fury of emotions
Within our hearts, as they excite our passions palpably and exquisitely!
The candlelight’s effulgent reflection in this moment transfixes me true,
By your warm and loving touch and the magic of your presence with me.
Coloring and scenting the air surpasses all others as the breathless and
Honeycombed eminence of your being touches the depths of my soul!
Gary Bateman and Liam McDaid, A Collaborated Poem
Copyright © All Rights Reserved – July 21, 2018
(Couplet)