Best Holdings Poems
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NISkmC_4bNQ
We are graced with a gift and it is to be unwrapped, every morning
as gentle as the peeling of the light when it falls upon the gloaming
unravel the day like a present of love, boxed in the shape of a heart
it is the promise of life that gives you, another day another chance;
Walk in the path of beauty gather the flowers you find on the way
fill your arms with scented holdings and be brave come what may
those tokens of affection are the presents of your daily romance
they are the jewels that deduce, another day another chance
Winds of change are coming and we need to stay afloat for now
run towards the things that make you feel sane and sweet alive
unravel the day like a present of love from the past and live,
its the trinket of worth that bestows, another day another chance
We are graced with the gift of today and so I hope you dance,
I pray for you that you give life, another day , another chance.
' ' ' ''''''''' '''' '
to dear soupers of winged hearts
holdings hands with charmed moments
drenched in laughter bopping sweet
…valentine huggs from me!
©
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PD's Leftover Valentine's from nette onclaud
Son of God
Lord
You are:
Oracle of peace
wise counselor
source within the living waters
That breathes life
into insightful predictions
of our future holdings
Son of Mary
With grace and mercy
one regal descendent of David
A sacrificial birth born
under the shadow of the cross
the Son of the most high
An eternal ruling Monarch
whose loving touch precludes no man
behold our King has come
Immortal spirit of divinity’s
Fulfilling the prophesies
divinely anointing our Prince of Peace
Truth held under Christian virtues
through the portal our great Father
forever speaks within, Amen
unrhymed tercets
A co-written piece by Liam Mcdaid & Donna Loughman
Starry skies over Damascus
Like a star chart for the
bomber pilots eating
Milky Ways and lives
Chocolate in the desert
for desert in consumption
The poem could stop here
its pretty clear not pretty
Petty lives perambulating
hiding hobbling around
on what was their feet
foundations souls and
is their ruin's wreckage now
The planes feature logos
“Just do it”
“Whiter than white”
“Put the tiger in the tank”
“Eat confectionary be happy”
What an advertising space
for the daily news rounded
up like the refugees
refusing to be refuse
“Powered by democracy”
“Fuelled by share holdings”
“Rocket launches for a better world”
in the weeping nights and days
lactating for another holiday
of some on sunny beaches
oozing oil wells wealth
and inequality
Milk where it needs not be
in luxury not infant powder
hungry breasts run dry by hunger
sapped empty in the face
of some lives counting
more than others where
camouflage is but
a distant varnish
in the pursuit of power
Soon their will be billboards
“Baghdad was not built
in a moment” “Invest in
Kabul” “Concrete for Allepo”
“Live the dream”
“Life liberty and the
pursuit of happy-mess”
“Constructing globality”
Munching away in my
cushioned arm chair
built from greedy land mines
I collude
“You can have your milky ways”
if the bomber pilots did not
eat them all
Whose wives implant their chests
with silicone from
the valley of evil
that forgot
Instead the artificial brain
the heart transplant
Mindful disposition
of humanity
Looking
instead at the stars
spangled banners
of Damascus
Milky ways
Son of God
Lord
You are:
Oracle of peace
wise counselor
source within the living waters
That breathes life
into insightful predictions
of our future holdings
Son of Mary
With grace and mercy
one regal descendent of David
A sacrificial birth born
under the shadow of the cross
the Son of the most high
An eternal ruling Monarch
whose loving touch precludes no man
behold our King has come
Immortal spirit of divinity’s
Fulfilling the prophesies
divinely anointing our Prince of Peace
Truth held under Christian virtues
through the portal our great Father
forever speaks within, Amen
unrhymed tercets
A co-written piece by Liam Mcdaid & Donna Loughman
Where the earth,
either scorched or drowned,
meets the fire of war
or the floods of indifference,
where the sky,
once pristine, now flight-scarred,
meets the trawlers and the oil rigs
on the dying sea,
and the righteousness
that you wore as an amulet
became a millstone
that you could not bear.
Where the industrial heartlands,
robust and cruel,
run feverishly to or from the inner cities,
painful, seething and morose,
where the last suburban outliers,
fading and sanctimonious,
meet the first agricultural small-holdings,
desperate, stoic and resilient,
and you happened upon wealth
too bountiful to be shared,
but mostly succumbed
to the will of the mightier few.
There waits The Serpent,
there waits the heel of The Chosen One,
there waits the reckoning
that no malevolence can escape,
buried so deep within you
that they can never be seen or found.
28th December 2018
We are going to see a lot of changes, happen in the days to come
A time of serious reflection, into the many places we come from
As we are faced with challenges, we will stay united and strong
Everything good is worth restoring and we resist what is wrong
Patience is worthy, while truth and justice have a way to prevail
The time for celebration will make its way to soon set sail
We will live life to the fullest, breathe each gifted breath of air
Clipping clamps from our wings, fly above holdings of despair
And as we fly like eagles through the open sky, thanking Lord
We will know, the American Dream is not lost, but restored!
Heidi Sands
10/12/19
Torches of light appeared unseen beneath heavens secrecy door
as I lay asleep in the wake of earth full living;
She cupped her breath and blew warm air unto the gifted child of grief
sending her to the other side of the ocean together with the coral reef
Bathing my tears with spikenard oil she clothed me with inner peace
then send me to her sacred post dressed in golden fleece
The sky stood tall and the earth stood still , I healed but not at will
she had the touch of an angel and the holdings of a sweet until
beams of light appeared in my grieving soul and slowly I began to mend
until I realized that nothing in this life ever comes to an end
torches of light appeared unseen beneath heavens secrecy door
it delivered me from pain with something I could not buy from a store
L O V E !!!
Seasonal Romance
Moss covered dreams in winter’s hold
Awaiting the colors of spring’s spun gold
Richness of earth’s holdings soon to behold
As nights shorten and days lengthenings unfold
Spring’s romance with the sun is what I’m told
As sweet caresses of warmth simmer bold
A seasonal reputation essential to uphold
A romantic season that never grows old
Written: 2/22/13
I always come to my senses
When my family has gathered
Around my sick bed
They expect me to die
But I laugh at them every time
“I am still trying to get an inheritance for you”
Without it I know
You will tap me on the shoulder
And ask for my stock holdings
And hidden Swiss bank accounts
They know I have no money
To pay for my funeral
Therefore I cannot die
Living is cheaper
Than dying
My family is looking
In the wrong places
Look under my pillow
You will find my excrements
And wonder
Why I have lived this long
Without telling you
About my private life
High up in the Andes
Where the Yogis live
And prosper
Bright red is a nice colour to me,
Reminds me of life and vitality;
It is an active, liberating cree,
Which says you can pen your own destiny.
Colour is never lax or passive,
But springs with semiotic meanings,
Evokes feelings energetic or abrasive,
And bright red indeed has very forthright holdings.
Bright red confers happiness and laughter,
And for it there’s always a hereafter;
It reminds me of Coca-Cola and Santa Claus,
Manchester United and road sign laws.
It brings to mind Herbal Essences and Red Bull,
Birds Eye products which have a pull,
The X Factor’s symbol and England’s flag,
Tide detergent and the Walkers crisp bag.
I had a bright red polo shirt,
When I was a hopeful teenage squirt,
Which I proudly wore, so glad,
That could save me sometimes from being sad.
Bright red often makes a statement:
Which is very rightful establishment;
Because to be bold in life is to know,
And to direct can simply be to say hello.
And of course red is the colour of blood,
Pumped by the heart in a rhythm,
Which grips us with love in a flood,
Repudiating hurt and brash schism.
You're rolling in the green right now,
lying naked on a bed of lettuce
Got those nubile maids milking the cash cow,
as you float on tequila dreams,
thinking it's gonna last forever
Money laundering machine
keeps churning out
counterfeit business window dressing
While you sit on your bullet-riddled throne
with a drug kingpin flair
You killed the last man who sat there,
in that blood-red leather chair
Violence consolidated the business,
now everything is in your hands
Got yourself surrounded by a bunch of yes servants
No one to dare tell you
whatcha' doing is wrong
Who questions a man who sits on a bloody throne
Shop's open is the street song
24/7 traffic all day long
The money flowing in so fast
has to stay off the books
So you're now hiring
the best accountant cooks
You're now hiring
the best laundromat staffing
Those who know how to launder that money clean,
turn it into legit stock holdings
Got yourself surrounded by a bunch of silent, head nodding people
No one to dare tell you
whatcha' doing is wrong
No one to tell you
all that money laundering
ain't never gonna wash your sins clean
You never hired no one to tell you the truth ---
that your killing days are numbered,
and your soul ain't bulletproof
We are family,
With different parts, different arts
Different stances, different hearts.
Different functions, different views
Different strengths, of different hues.
Different gifts and aptitudes
Different sizes and attitudes.
Different opinions and different passions
Different childhoods and different fashions.
Different skin, different hair
Different voices and different stares.
Different laughs and different cries
Different anger and different eyes.
Different wealth and different ages
Different minds in different stages.
Different holdings and different power
Are yours and mine and ours.
We are family,
With one life, one season to bloom
One fragrance, one span from the womb.
One “now” one chance to make amends
One mist, one term to cherish friends.
One “carpe diem” (one seize the day)
One chance to grow, one hand to play.
One privileged game, one strategy picking
One time to shine, one game clock ticking.
One unity shared, one harmony sung
One melody hummed, one use of the tongue.
One hand to uplift, one journey we take
One taste you leave, one cake you bake.
One glorious day, one life to bless
One chance every day, one love to finesse.
One hope, one April shower
Is yours and mine and ours.
"I Am casting My net, oh don't you see? and I have my prophets and
disciples following Me not only in word but deed, as we stand with even
space between us so that we can cast our nets far, wide and deep with the
hope of catching not fish but the souls of men as My Father decreed.
Little fish who are swimming in the depths of the spiritual ocean, lakes and
seas.
Don't be fooled by only the things you see, please learn the art of discernment.
For your own sake please let your souls be gently and lovingly caught, for the
sharks of hell love you not.
Please swim into the nets so we can pull you in... pull you to Me so you can
continue to live in safety with lots of rooms for you to grow in mind, but
also body and soul.
We can with love and tenderness help to heal your wounds and hurts of life
and heal spiritual tears not understood by the natural man.
By the time we arrive at the shore, you My dear ones will rejoice in the new
day.
You will be here to stay with Me in our Father's immense and never ending
holdings - lots of land to walk through, forests, garden's so beautiful, that it will
take forever to walk through them at your leisure.
Swim into the nets My loves for you will be loved with My everlasting heart.
You will grow into everlasting life!"
You do not expect me I am going to describe the stands
Or the moon that is reflected on the river's water
Or the ghostly tribes running along Winnibigoshishi Lake,
Up to the Shakopee and down to the Sioux City,
But the holdings and the last fragrances
Thatt have been grown along my Mississippi Nights.
Since my childhood, no shadows, no scarlet
Has been broken, and back I go:
I was five years old, teeny and dark, so beautiful around my mother's arms,
All proud and bough, and I sung all summer
As I was watching my Mississippi Nights.
Long tales as they had been told through the stripped dance
And drowsy learning, yet it already has been told by wrinkled faces,
And by those toothless mouths, that arisen sun has gone,
In such fashion of pain and smoke,
But no one could tell me after the long ceremony
How beautiful and still my Mississippi Nights.
From the South to the North; from Granite Falls to
Prairies Island, I knew every stone and leaf, the flavor
Of the smokes and shine, the cute young Indian girls
Who were best known, that by June
I fell and hit -- even though I was skinny and dumb --
Every girl in delight but there was nothing like than my Mississippi Nights.
As a man now so unique and coward!
From whom I have got no Indian Blood Left,
Princely I bent. Not to risen against the Great Spirit
Even perhaps by pain and love I should say
But I was still looking at myself through my Mississippi Nights.
Graceful and healthful to the tradition I call you too my strong boy.
Along with my Indian woman, now fifty-two, and caring spring she has before;,
Through the lower Sioux, and the higher St. Cloud and beyond,
And somewhat south and north, I must demand
To myself to see once more my Mississippi Nights.