Best Materialize Poems
Deathbed Poetry – Jesus of Nazareth – 10-9-25. “It is finished!” An elegiac has three parts – grief, praise and comfort.
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Deathbed Poetry - Jesus of Nazareth “It is Finished!”
Only splinters cradle your bloodied face
Shouted curses drown your last words of blessing
Helpless tears, washed in the blood and water of your side,
Mix with the filth of tangled betrayals
Your seamless dignity faces the cruelty of dice
Gamblers with eternity
Raise gall to lips that spoke their creation
The sunless day grieves
Blind to the perfect prophecy’s fulfillment
All creation bows – wracked with grief
As angels hover over your sinless hands
Heaven trembles – earth erupts – temples shudder.
“It is Finished!” Yet, Love always survives.
When you spread out your pierced hands
Between Eternity and earth
Superstitions and spells flee in vertigo
The last vile breath of time possessed darkness
Screams in writhing whimpers at your gaze
Stumbling into an unresolved infinity
You transcend our rags of shame to raiments
On torrents of your new grace
Holy delight laughs as midnight claims its last echo
In your hands irony transcends to victory
Our tears to triumph in your new Genesis
Where mysteries of a garden materialize.
“It is finished!” And Love always survives.
Eden’s heart-wrenching elegies of regret
Resolve in a timeless time signature
Chrisms of frankincense erase deep scars
With the anointed balm of forgiveness,
Abandoned ashes gather into endless effervescence
When tempests expire over still waters
And lilies bloom in weeded pastures
Our new lungs sing out aromatic splendor
In refrains of Eden heard again
Joy takes root in the beatitudes of the manger’s Rose
Grace overpowers putrid bondage
As glory's pierced hands
Mend the shredded threads of our brokenness.
“It is finished!” Yes! Love always survives.
Words of Mass Destruction
Words like bullets do not have eyes, as they fly in our hearts and materialize
Deleterious breaths that we soon despise, words written in stone we idealize
Warring weaponed words that paralyze, wounding wandering words terrorize
Torpedo texts thrown to criticize, paranoid punitive parasites will pulverize
Like the Atom bomb, words are strong only use them wisely where they belong
Some create a lullaby or sweet a song, while others use them to do their wrong
Words of deception create no affection only intervene with the inflating infection
Annihilating in their corrupt convention, wary words that bring rigorous rejection
Of the negative neurotic neglect, wording witches and warlocks of their architect
Dehumanized discord of disconnect, vengeful letters lashing will always resurrect
Words can frighten as well as enlighten, some will delight in words that tighten
Words of corruption bring self-destruction, a raging ruction of a serpent seduction.
Nov.20.2017
Judgmental People And Haters
Sponsored by: Brenda Chiri
Welcome tomorrow, leave today behind;
don't get stuck in the ways of yesterday.
And hug as many friends as you can find—
empty your heart; take all but love away.
In your dreams, envision a serene sky;
feel tranquility materialize.
And picture a dragonfly, zipping by,
gilded by the golden hue of sunrise.
Blend the yellow of a buttercup's glow
with flickering flashes of firefly lights.
And walk the Earth, yet let no footprint show,
respecting life, honoring human rights.
Mix well, until presumptions fall apart,
and you will match the color of my heart.
For miles silence reigns
For years solitude,
My heart is heavy
My spirit low
And I have a long way to go.
In life's eternal journey
I walk alone,
The night is dark
Somewhere yonder
lies my home
And I must traverse
many a silent shore.
I cannot laugh
Try as I may,
I cannot bring
myself to weep,
My joys and woes die
before they materialize.
From dawn till dusk
I have toiled often
gathering the remnants of
my broken dreams.
Before a hope is built
It crumbles down,
Before a wish is fulfilled
Frustration overwhelms me.
I am helpless
I drift through life,
As many a time I think to live
As many a time I die!
Contest: 'Faces of loneliness' by frank herrera
our beloved brother from India
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold
board his magic carpet
woven with wit, intellect and insight
soar through sagas steeped in mythology
captivating revelations on cultural tradition
unique perspectives on historical events
clever concepts conveyed with humor
psychology, philosophy, behavior observations
materialize as “Mehtaisms”
stirring the soup
adding spice to the broth
supporting work of members new and old
our international melting pot
enriched by the work of a Literary Doctor
salute a special sage who graces us with gifts
Dr. Ram’s words are better than gold
* Dedicated to Dr. Ram Mehta in honor of Joe Maverick’s “Better than Gold” contest
Dedicated to my Friend, Andrea Dietrich
A blessing meant to materialize is how I define Andrea’s role in my life. Andrea is a bright light of warmth that I began to seek more and more as our personalities seamlessly bonded in fulfilling and meaningful ways. While we share the same continent, thousands of miles separate us that will eventually be conquered by the powers of friendship. I have told the universe that I insist on such! I will admit a slight fear; Andrea has an abundance of energy whereas I’m a napper who might fall face down trying to keep up with her. To me, Andrea is goodness personified. She has the heart of a caring teacher as I’ve learned when I’m baffled about Soup matters or other, for she instructs without even being asked. My friend is consistent, reliable, organized, committed to people and things she cares about. Andrea can be much too hard on herself for she is a perfectionist. As a writer, she is a talent whose well of creativity has no bottom but an endless stream of imagination that blesses everyone who reads her. In many ways, Andrea has an innocence that I find difficult to verbally discern though I am keenly aware of it and delightfully refreshed by it. In a world of business and family schedules and demands, I greatly admire Andrea for carving out niches where her individuality is nurtured and sated; she knows who she is. She is a genuine, individuated individual who truly seizes each day in her best grasp to live with her best effort. I love her very much.
she's always been good
i have colored outside lines ~
we bonded as friends
I speak to the skylights
of your tender soul
in formless forms
in eccentric accents
aching in aloneness...
when tragedies of footprints
remain a sculptured secret ~
like an untitled nightfall
dressed in denied definitions
avoiding the touch
of perception
for mindfulness mirrors
memories I hoard
within titanium trays
of masked melancholy…
but I long for you to wear
chronicles carved within
my cold conscience ~
a universe layered
with moulded memoirs
tell me how it feels
to be a beautiful burden
to the jinxed jewels
feasting upon
scrutinized skin of silence
skeletons of psyche ~
too complex
for concave light...
let me stay ~ stretched
in the still solitary sketch
of surrealism ...
I am not a vision
of gold and glitter
that wicked weavers
can materialize
but an unnamed sight ~
a breathing mystery
the eyes of unfelt dusk
fail to stroll through…
intoxicated on pain
~ an ecstasy etched through angst ~
to never be tamed
to never be told
I see you bent low
Your head in your hands
Tears dropping on the table cloth
The heavy sighs that no one can hear
Fill my ear
Even past the wall
Between eternity and finite time
I hear
I see
Your guardian angel is near
My orders from the throne
To protect you from harm
Physical….spiritual
To guard your steps
Yet...I see you have not walked
For many an hour
You have been glued to that spot
Unmoving
Only knowing that your universe
Is caving in
Forming a black hole
That is sucking in your soul
The decision is mine to make
I have no time to hesitate…
Overstep my bounds?
Or just hover and watch you drown?
The room fills with light
As I materialize
Hiding my wings
Not wanting to shock you
Not in your present state...
But you are too far gone to see
The gun on the table…ready
So, with one hand I touch your face
With the other under your grizzled chin
I make you look up at me….
Your eyes fill with wonder
You blink away the tears
Trying to focus
Trying to grasp the reality of me
Before you have time to question
I close my lips on yours
And breathe into your mouth
The eternal qualities of heaven
Peace, joy, love and light….
A lingering kiss of life
The moment where heaven and earth collide
And I unfold my wings and envelope you
In a cocoon of heavenly wonder
I enfold you
I feel your strength returning
I will not let you fall
I have heard the unspoken call
Of your bleeding heart…
And as you reach your arms around me…
In that moment…I’m gone
Clothing myself with invisibility
Yet…. just as near
Unseen to your mortal eyes
But as real
As the erratic beating of your heart
I hover near
You exhale slowly
Your breath is on my cheek
The light dims
And you open your eyes
Wondering what delirium
Has come over you
Yet there….there in your hand
A token of the encounter
A white feather
That glimmers in the night
Against orders….
I will stand before the throne
And try to find the words to explain
This strange act...
I could not keep back
I had to guard your life
In the only way I knew how
In that unearthly moment in time
I will find the grace to answer
My reward… the look in your eyes
The radiance of your face
The knowing smile that reveals
You are worthy enough
On a dark and hopeless night
To be kissed….
By the lips of an angel
A guardian angel of light
For Skat's Angel Contest
Words are not enough,
Alphabets strung in uncertainty,
Speech slurred in disbelief,
Love endlessly professed,
Lacking in action or substance,
Intentions of the heart,
Inexpressible by vocabulary,
Pledges frustrated by timelines,
Lofty dreams built with bricks of vapour,
Visions written on sand,
Children of promise orphaned by unfulfillment,
In foster care of compromise,
Doubt takes up tenancy,
Sin, its landlord.
Grace grants clemency,
Faith offers a new lease,
Adopted by rectitude,
Shut doors avert imminent destruction,
Redirecting the path to destiny,
Visions conceptualized begin to materialize,
Pipe dreams turn reality,
Old debts reconciled,
The hearts intent,
Superseded by divine counsel,
Love endures its rule,
Substantiated by fidelity,
After all said and undone,
Words alone are not enough.
The sky becomes synonymous with grey,
signifying a storm is on its way.
And a sullied sun swiftly slips away;
allowing shadows to overcome day,
while clouds release a downpour straightaway.
Thunder echoes across purple-bruised skies,
as lightning causes drops to vaporize.
And ebony descends to claim its prize
while the whirling winds wail and Nature cries.
The treetops are tossed and swayed by each gust
as brisk breezes suddenly feel robust:
arriving swiftly; no time to adjust.
Broken by a murmured mantra of sound,
silence acquiesces as raindrops pound.
And pellets of ice get viciously hurled!
Everything falls in scattered disarray,
when twisters start to materialize.
Hail and rain meld into an icy crust
that turns the streets into a battleground
and neighborhoods into a netherworld.
A setting sun inks purple mountain peaks,
painting frescoes on slopes of sullied snow.
And smearing scarlet in blotches and streaks,
its art surpasses Michelangelo.
Shadows scurry to merge with silhouettes,
as acrobatic bats hunt moths in flight.
And when Night gets as quiet as it gets,
ebony extinguishes Dusk's last light.
Crimson and cerise color carmine skies,
as Sol's chariot gilds the edge of Night.
And trillions of stars materialize,
twinkling overhead like jewels of light.
And in the heavens hangs a beaming moon,
light pooling around it, like liquid gold.
For glowing as bright as a gold doubloon,
Luna's face is a wonder to behold.
Dystopian
When I see in modern homes, blank walls
not disturbed by art, the center of peace
an outside sofa for a whole family to sit
until a dad is arrested for child abuse
In the building, most families have gone
on a few days holiday, at the same place
in the Algarve, returning on Monday and
talk about it for weeks
When I had a small house in the outer
Algarve I was often visited by a Swiss
lady, small of stature and full of energy
often brought me gifts of things she
had made, which I put on the wall
She had the annoying habit of asking me
question about my life, which I at first disliked
but got to like, which I didn't ask of myself
too much trouble to find an answer.
One day, when she didn't come, I drove to her
place, they told me she had gone back to the Swiss
she must have been in her nineties or so
She had written several books that disturbed
me, did she use me as a material for
an upcoming book?
my dream of a simple life, a dog, and a house
near the woods, didn't materialize, so many
mostly women intruded, they left, when they
gave up saving me from me and a simple life
Now that I'm old, their faces erased
a blimp on my journey towards my destruction
Inside-Out with all the psycho-babble.
Multifaceted melange - merry and melancholy.
My pen’s prophetic,
authentic,
inadequate.
Hazel eyes that ponder divinity:
See the world.
See God through the world.
See the people.
Empathize with earthly beings.
Fall to my knees.
Seek inspiration.
Grab it with gusto.
Don’t wait for the brain to catch up.
I observe the peculiarities in my familiar space.
I often hide behind the blinds.
Occasions, work, and friends -
push me out into the serendipitous sun and clouds.
Clench books on dusty shelves.
Throw them into a shopping cart -
they’re all free.
Attempt to organize floaters -
those iotas, that crystallize,
to form a complete thought.
Exhaustive concordance of my travels -
violets, forget-me-knots, tulips,
and fear and sorrow
The viscous web of grandiose heights -
zip lines, edge of mountains, glacier treks.
Falling...falling back on my knees.
Confident? Conceited?
A poet - that’s me.
And ideas materialize -
with family and strangers,
life and death.
The affectation of emotion, pondered.
Like a journalist, I report roller-coaster happenings.
You see, I used to merely have an emotion,
get comfortable in its chair.
Now I play with it,
craft my joy or despair.
The mirror cracks -
my reflection
as I grow wizened,
with a chromatic symphony
of mystique.
Materialize before my eyes:
Amorphous clumps of clay
In puddles of brown broth
Walk around with empty mouths
That house ravens of despair
Silent stupidity and empty
Sockets follow blindly
A path hewn ages before
They even existed in weary
Acceptance of fate unavoidable.
And I follow slowly;
Crawl on elbows;
Claw with hands that grab
Mud as a last rope
To pull me away from
Emptiness shown on
Their faces while they step over
Me in strange indifference
To continue their way
My head rests on hands
slick and silt with tears
spilt for their mute life
where words have no
weight but what is put
in one outpour of grief
They say from darkest soil
Lightest flowers grow
Salty water sprinkles
Where my knees touch
My lips softly kiss
Lovingly, in hope.
***
March 11, 2017
Copyright © Darren White
Silent Mirror
My lyrics must reflect my inner
silence
The words that bring a
reflection of truth
As I walk in the wrecked past
From the future my voice
silently weeps
For the lost generation
Without equation
For my lyrics reflection the ills
of this generation
I look at the world
Through the tainted glass
As I clear the glass I see my
own faults
With reflection of madness
All this fear I hide
I am troubled inside
Let me unravel
And magnetize
Materialize
This vision and realize my
ambition
There is no option but one
To walk through hell and find
the light
My lyrics reflect my inner
silence
And I Silently listen.....
By Ernest Badounts