Best Light Beam Poems
I come to your bedside once more,
you've poured our photos and poetry on the floor
an act of apostasy, a grim admission, the room in dim depression,
laying on your side , cheeks heated and soaked in sorrow, your joy in remission,
Refusing to look at me, as if seeing this face would invite a fatal grief,
hating me yet loving me because I am the wound waking belief,
a living scar fueling faith in the survival of our love,
needing me to be your spiritual shove,
I lay along you, gripping your tender arm, still, you do not disarm,
the tip of my nose surfs the skin of your shoulder, I smell the tears of my harm,
trying to explain that love is never wrong, that in your heart is where I belong
you roll into my chest, a gorgeous heat of anger escapes your glare,the sting strong,
in a fevered whimper, throat bubbled, you ask, how can I dare love you in absentia,
how can you love a kiss that cuts, a breath that bruises, nails of nostalgia,
oh how love makes us suffer for the truth of our hearts,
I say, there is no absence within the Absolute, a fusion of soul parts,
The onomatopoeia of my heart is ready to be splayed into you,
I kiss bite the supple muscle of your neck, you release a searing sigh
the air spiced with the oil of a woman's want,
I need the salvation of your hot opening, I yearn to super charge your core,
my balls, plump and heavy fall over your thigh, breast spread softly,
your hands enveloping my back, heels hooking around calves
the root of my Being swells to true and thick form
red oak stretching into your moistened magenta earth,
tenderloins contracting, pushing, smacking,
a metamorphosis matures to cure our crisis,
I can see in your eyes a soul that flies
on a light beam without ending,
one touch more and death will be a thing of lies,
rebuild love with me and find warmth never wanning,
we become Angels with no age
lovers without rage or confusion,
a new universe of raw pleasure and instincts sage,
dreams witnessed in the sweat and steam of sacred revolution -
J.A.B.
I’m freedom’s beckoning call light as air, an elemental being
Set adrift beyond the universal light beam, a speeding
Bullet shifting, suspended by my own spiritual uplifts
Bending in the stratosphere by raw forces
Gravitational pull.
A streaming particle of matter flowing in the
Mystical elemental current of my own existence,
Untethered I’ve cut the silvery threads of the
Timeless, a creature of thoughts abandonment.
A unique butterfly of distinction, flying amongst
The light waves of illusion spreading my wings
Of clarity, touching the stars in gentle graces
Movement.
In flights liberation climbing levels of enchantment,
A swaying anomaly tossed, passed between earth
And sky, a castaways silhouette lingering afloat the
Breeze of sensuality, with the heightened senses
Of pleasure ultimate recklessness, I’m at liberties
Jurisdiction beyond the touch of man.
I’ve joined the flocks of the enlightened ones,
Moths drawn to the dreaming flame, that burns
With fuel of inspirational grace.
Rippling wings transcending, behold the marvel
Of lunar beings, evolving, rising beyond the
Embankment of physical resistance,
Translucent fluttering monarchs brushing
Against the gates of God’s kingdom on high.
Flying insects of humanity, buzzing in a whispering
Chorus ushering in lyrical verses praise,
Announcing the arrival of these ascended.
Reaching through the vaulted grates of heaven,
The lord’s angel reaches out to touch these mortal
Wings of inspiration, and harken to listen, as
The Soft music loaf’s upwards, flooding the floors
Of this golden divide.
At twilights intrinsic hour of contemplation these
Dreaming beings of enlightenment drift as floating
Confetti ever lightly descending, cascading into
Their mortal fleshes vessels beneath, leaving the
Realm behind, but oh what visions of inspiration
Have these butterflies of remembrance relate,
In poetic excellence, cannot be captured
Within the nets of mankind.
I’m freedom’s beckoning call light as air, an elemental being
Set adrift beyond the universal light beam, a speeding
Bullet shifting, suspended by my own spiritual uplifts
Bending in the stratosphere by raw forces
Gravitational pull.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
So tell me was your soul weaved from platinum gold, liquified hot, bold mold when cold.
Tell me was your soul seamed with blindfold string, piece by piece so effortlessly, spiritually free
Oh baby please tell me was your soul dipped in gleam, a bright white light beam, directly into your bloodstream
Don’t you see your soul fascinates me,
So old, uncontrolled water mold, where’s the threshold, how do I unfold all that you behold
So my soul is so full of grieve, qunderachieved, with a heart on my sleeve
What do you see when you perceive me spiritually?
My soul so bold, not dipped in gold but aged mold, so old, covered in coal, a dust bowl, Aurora circle
Maybe you can see my soul isn’t half as glistening clean, but still it’s a pretty mean warrior machine, buffering to sheen as I speak... could you trust me
Soulful, is so full, every inch of mineral, drenched gold, covered in steel wool, it’s beautiful, are we compatible, maybe my love is magical, or unfathomable, let’s not make this tragical, to be honest I’m a bit radical, maybe a bit unpractical,
But tell me was your soul weaved with platinum gold, liquified hot, bold mold when cold?
The mistake made in word association is thinking that an associative word should fit
normal patterns. Normalcy isn't always consistent with creativity, therefore, the design may have to change so the poem fits mind frames. In regards to mathematics, I was told seven was perfection. Six imperfection and although eight was enough, biblically it means resurrection. But added all together, twenty-one represents man's wickedness so how can we have imperfection, perfection, resurrection and end up with wickedness in the same story line? We were perfect before words entered the equation. There was a knowable number of stars before we ever opened our eyes. Enlightenment became entrapment and religion authorized this. We gave up unbelievable wonder for a light like no other. Here's the crux of my prose, if sun is God's splendor, I just need you, the smallest sliver. A divided light beam barely bright, but giving so much insight. The way a little light seeps through eye lashes and lids when eyes are stuck together. Your darkened outline begins to take shape the more pupils dilate. With very little light I begin to see a dream coming true - awakening to visions of you. Mathematics was the word that had me monetizing how I could get paid loving only you.
Sparkles fill your hazel eyes
Reflections of light beam through your hair
Your skin so soft
My heartbeats are lost,
A warmth that boils deep within
send goosebumps atop throughout my skin
A deep cleanse of dust
Remove any thought of lust
True love I have found
Throughout my soul we are bound
Live life as one no longer as two
Love has captured me and you
Twas the nite before and all through the house, everyone lustful even the mouse
I in my towel and her in a thong
No way in hell this night could go wrong
Then out in barn there arose such a clatter
Boobs and nuts flying we went to see what was the matter
And what to our lustful eyes do we see
But eight naked women with a santa hat just for me
So sat down i did filled with such pride
If only on me they all wanted to ride
With a titty here and ass over there
My girl with her thong yea i didnt even care
So as i settled into what i believed was a dream
With a smile that was brighter than the brightest light beam
Now you wonder what could possibly happen to make this any better
Although i got harder she got wetter
Let me enlighten you for much to my dismay
The next instant i was bound and forced to watch them play
My dick rose quick i must admit
But not one came over and offered to sit
As i was fixin to complain in my most persuasive tone
I saw my girl and the toys she was being shown
Her eyes lit up and she made her choice
Next all i heard was an odd strange little voice
Next to my ear was whispered watch as she enjoys
Watch as we stretch her with those enormous toys
Then what in this fantasy dream of mine would happen
Those eight naked women were between her legs lappen
Stroke for stroke they each shared equally
I came so fast yet they never even touched me
Finished with her they start to come my way again
And Just as my luck would have it i chose to wake up right then
So now each christmas eve i close my eyes tight and fast
Thinking maybe the dream would return and i wouldnt cum so fast
Every christmas morning turns out sadly the same
I wake up still horny with no one to blame
Valentine’s Unicorn
A magical and most wonderful creature of times old,
With a holy soul filled with love and a heart of gold.
Harmony, peace, and love pervade her very essence,
And they define all that is good and grand in her presence.
She loves poets, musicians, and all of us who so often dream,
And visits us all in ethereal visions on a radiant light beam.
This Valentine’s Unicorn is a precious bearer of purest love,
Who possesses angelic power from the very Heavens above.
She lives in our hearts and souls as an enchanted dream,
And shares her love and trust with us all as we dream.
She shares our dreams past, present, and future—
And shall always be a spirit of majestic love in our future.
On Valentine’s Day her love is felt on Earth and in Heaven above,
As she sends us harmony, peace, and love on the wings of a dove!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (February 9, 2015)
(Rhymed Couplet)
MY NEW SONG (POP SONG) ON YOU TUBE
( The Audio visual version of this Song will give you a different pleasure of this Song. To view and hear the Song please copy and paste follow
URL: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGTtS8u-24I&feature=youtu.be
NOTE: This Song would remain incomplete without HEARING the Music & Song I have placed on You Tube as per URL given above.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGTtS8u-24I&feature=youtu.be
Away far away
I can see my dreams
When they rise to kiss
Your morning beams.
Away far away
Are your Golden Rims
But I can smell the fragrance
In your light and in your beams.
Away quite far away
Are the Mountain peaks
I am climbing
To reach and to touch your feet.
The rocks are hard
And the journey too difficult
May be my body is tired
But not my soul.
And I am moving and walking
While Singing my Songs
To reach near you
Some day O' My Dreams.
And I am moving and walking
While Singing My Songs
To reach near you
Some day O' My Light & Beam.
Ravindra
Kanpur India 12th Aug. 2013
NOTE:
Protected under the copyright provisions
of Poetry Soup. Copying this Song or
reproducing it in any other name of manner
is strictly prohibited and would be subject to
legal action at Kanpur India
"The Anatomy of God"
Who shall say there is one God?
if there are many, as it seems
in all the world’s sects and religions -
Who is their God? Is the source
some universal, bright, big, ultra simple,
ultra clean - Halogen Light Beam?
Or just an empty space beyond Beyond,
drawing us all slowly into it’s Black Hole vacuum
and this has been the true story all along?
The question poses images of
many different things
a snake eating it’s own tail,
a never-ending eternity ring;
Who shall say there is no God
there are many, it seems;
there are those who are certain
dead is dead, there are no dreams
no curtain, nor a veil that’s thin,
there is no such thing as Heaven -
but could it be, God is hidden,
in Rene Magritte’s Son of Man’s vision
and what rapture direction Magritte's Golconda -
will men rain up or down? I wonder.
Go peel back the pages of your books
and the layers of your glass onions
maybe there, maybe not
the answers to be found -
A.I. weaves it's membrane tentacles
seeing, hearing every thought, face and sound.
To each his own and to own their sins
The Anatomy of God
like peeling layers, of an onion,
the questions burn, then they sting
honey dripping, bitter almonds
holy waters rising
what happens if it’s sink or swim?
Revelations of all Armies
fighting wars without, not within -
Are aliens demons? Or distant family, some say friends?
Dream on dear open minded legions
with or without dominion;
Questions forever oceans rising,
like Meteors, Cock Robin
Sky is Falling
Who is God?
What is God?
Something’s coming,
Something’s calling.
(Lovejoy-Burton/Jan 2018)
very simple musings, of a very simple mind
1. Debate: Sam Harris & Jordan Peterson
https://www.patreon.com/posts/sam-harris-1-20821646
2. The Story of God - Morgan Freeman - S1 Ep 2 - Apocalypse
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GFP1UQnixlU
3. The Story of God - Morgan Freeman - S2 Ep 2 - Heaven & Hell
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HeZqCHUCsMg
4. Common Themes in Rapture Dreams
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HV7QgU2htJc
5. Electromagnetic Plasma Event 2019 / The Watchman Review
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gro5Bknjdkw
6. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7xWffB2nH0
I’m freedom’s beckoning call light as air, an elemental being
Set adrift beyond the universal light beam, a speeding
Bullet shifting, suspended by my own spiritual uplifts
Bending in the stratosphere by raw forces
Gravitational pull.
A streaming particle of matter flowing in the
Mystical elemental current of my own existence,
Untethered I’ve cut the silvery threads of the
Timeless, a creature of thoughts abandonment.
A unique butterfly of distinction, flying amongst
The light waves of illusion spreading my wings
Of clarity, touching the stars in gentle graces
Movement.
In flights liberation climbing levels of enchantment,
A swaying anomaly tossed, passed between earth
And sky, a castaways silhouette lingering afloat the
Breeze of sensuality, with the heightened senses
Of pleasure ultimate recklessness, I’m at liberties
Jurisdiction beyond the touch of man.
I’ve joined the flocks of the enlightened ones,
Moths drawn to the dreaming flame, that burns
With fuel of inspirational grace.
Rippling wings transcending, behold the marvel
Of lunar beings, evolving, rising beyond the
Embankment of physical resistance,
Translucent fluttering monarchs brushing
Against the gates of God’s kingdom on high.
Flying insects of humanity, buzzing in a whispering
Chorus ushering in lyrical verses praise,
Announcing the arrival of these ascended.
Reaching through the vaulted grates of heaven,
The lord’s angel reaches out to touch these mortal
Wings of inspiration, and harken to listen, as
The Soft music loaf’s upwards, flooding the floors
Of this golden divide.
At twilights intrinsic hour of contemplation these
Dreaming beings of enlightenment drift as floating
Confetti ever lightly descending, cascading into
Their mortal fleshes vessels beneath, leaving the
Realm behind, but oh what visions of inspiration
Have these butterflies of remembrance relate,
In poetic excellence, cannot be captured
Within the nets of mankind.
I’m freedom’s beckoning call light as air, an elemental being
Set adrift beyond the universal light beam, a speeding
Bullet shifting, suspended by my own spiritual uplifts
Bending in the stratosphere by raw forces
Gravitational pull.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Rosemary's Bed
Maylands Salvation Army, Girls' Home
I am in the entrance foyer of a large house.
The wood floor is highly polished.
There is a large stairway with a turned, wood bannister.
Dad is telling my three year old sister and me
that we must stay here because
he has to work and can't take care of us.
Mum has gone away somewhere.
THE MATRON takes our suitcases and *smiles* at us
instructs us to, "come with her".
Dad says, "he will come and visit us every Sunday".
I am taken to a dormitory and told which bed will be mine.
The bed on the other side of the fire place
belongs to Rosemary.
Our beds skirt, either side of a fireplace
that is midway along the wall, with rows
of beds on each side of it,
as well as opposite,
twenty beds in all.
At the end of the room is an alcove with a curved bay window.
There is a bed there, all by itself.
I can remember being so scared in this room.
The older girls told me, "there is a man with an elastic arm"
who lives on the roof
and, "he can reach down the chimney and grab you".
Although I didn't really believe it, a few nights later,
we were all woken by a piercing scream.
THE MATRON came down to investigate.
The girl who slept in the bay window bed, said,
" a man with a monkey's face" jumped on my bed.
THE MATRON searched everywhere inside and out -
we saw her flash light beam- out there in the darkness-
her report was, " it was nothing." -
probably one of the cats that lived in the wood pile.
I always had trouble sleeping after that
and after lights out -
although it was strictly forbidden -
I would creep across and climb
into Rosemary's bed.
Although her bed was an equal distance
from the fireplace as mine
the human warmth and contact made me feel safe
against unknown forces of the night.
I slept on the edge of nightmares until, finally
I left that place.
Suzanne Delaney
From- Rememberances of an 8 year Old.
For Frank H..... I recall.....Contest
The summer sky suddenly turned into a zealous stadium.
Sun like a raging bull inside the ring of fuming helium,
full on fire with flaring flames coming out of its nostril.
Fidgeting in the middle with flickering rays like horns, until --
A set of dark clouds like toreros entered the bull’s realm.
The annoyed sun took a charge towards the cloud with helm.
The one who was waving the cape of shadow from the front
had to bear the stroke of a light beam, the attack’s brunt.
Soon the stormy winds like picadors riding on the horses
came in with their piercing lances full of dust with force.
A powerful thrust by the stormy winds exhausted the sun.
Diminished spark, broken light but the bull was not yet done.
Silver lining could be seen dispersing from the sun’s core.
The bull was ready to score but weakened with gore.
Came in the murk suited in shades of gloom like banderilleros
and made a fierce attack on sun with heavy rain like banderillas.
The thwarted struggling bull faced severe brutality in serial,
making its way through the overgrown dark doom so surreal.
By then, a bold entry made by the zapping thunderous matador
with a flashing lightning bolt like sword, struck hard the sun’s core.
Oozing out the dark crimson blood smeared all over the sky.
Dying symbol of positivity shattered my heart and made me cry.
Either its a battle or a sport like this ends with loss and gain.
Spare me the horror...I don’t want to experience it again.
08/16/2016
Note : For the contest (Wordscapes) by John Hamilton.
*Placed Third*
In this poem, a thunderstorm caused by low pressure in summertime especially in tropical regions resulting in the battle between sun and storm is described as bull fighting sport scene. Excuse me for putting in a few Spanish terms.
Over my eyes,
the unveiling of a secret kept
within my breast.
Just a simple touch --
the songs spilling out of your eyes
your hand in mine.
Sudden snapshot
And the light beam brings such focus
the dark gunshot
Not a shred of doubt,
just a simple touch to let me know
Your deepest thoughts.
By Caroline Cecile
At night
I feel Angel's cry
She feels my happiness
She knows my cherish memory is disappearing
Who touches my head and gets it ahead
I see a light beam from dull getting shining
At night
I feel Angel's cry
She knows my loneness
She knows i need a match at cold night
Who touches my hand and get it warm
I see a smile with tears getting a laughter
At night
I feel Angel's cry
She knows my worries
She knows a nice girl crying in the heart
She knows a lonely girl shivering in the dark
She knows a girl trying to be a bit little stronger
She knows a girl just need a word, a hug, a kiss
She knows the girl's world is full of beautiful dreams
At night
i feel Angel's cry
I beg her not cry and try to touch her heart
I feel full of love in her body
I know tears just say goodbye to weakness
My visage is a remainder of ancient kings
I can make spirit fly even if I don’t have wings
To an archeologist writing on my walls sings
I protect hidden in me chalices, disks and golden rings
I stand hundred and forty six meters tall
What is written on ancient Egyptian Scroll?
Is that I’m a tomb that to heaven carries pharaohs’ soul
Whose likeness is depicted on my wall
I’m shaped like light beam from the farthest reaches of the universe
Two hundred and thirty meters is every side of my base
I’m supposed to lead the spirit to special place in other space
Where with Gods themselves pharaohs’ soul can converse