Best Miry Poems
Dishonorable Tao pen,
your fealty strokes
are guided by
shogun lust for the yen
Quill treachery
blot your avarice ambition
Devious calligraphy
be the torn loyalty decision
Vain kimono pride
is bushido vow laid aside
Naked truth disrobed —
Coin motive
ain’t unsheathe noble
Ink ronin,
got no master to gallantly serve or valor save
Unworthy pen,
every vile thrust
spilt more scarlet sin upon your Shinto grave
Inscribe your pulse amorality
with a crimson postscript
Follow your vagabond reality
into that inkwell miry pit
Ghetto me be a bleating poor refugee,
albeit I’m Goshen rich in faith
Got a manger stall in the USA,
Pilate shepherd of the Cesarian peace
Time stamped stillborn delivery
tis iron Roman numeral four C
Furnace cast existence: bane brand bound
Babylonian condition, a marketplace sound
Fleeced heritage ... sob separated,
I am just the latest stolen cargo generation
being cerulean cloth asphyxiated
By legion overseers of an ungrateful nation
These pyramid gnash, link bled bones
twas being Pharaoh oppressed: Prey worked to death
in a Memphis factory plantation owned
Where noxious hate suffocate poverty-cuffed breath
Be daily double tasked in a graveyard shift
Those pale hearts so addicted
to the golden flask, err tilted
Drunk on power, they cull with a siren sift
O miry, downtrodden me ...
temporally chained to this wavy treachery
Verily, a wretched place for a black sheep —
such cotton weary misery!
So after four centuries of Cain deluge,
I do still tearfully seek
A rainbow ark sacred place of refuge
promised to the meek
THE GRIEVANCE OF DEATH
It comes unannounced
With caloric and musty sour
Calls from far and near
Under unnumerous Canopies
Behold the upper chambers
Swimming and bleeding
In white wet handkerchiefs
In saucer-eyed voice, They yell
Grievance of death
The mantle of Loneliness
Thou smeareth silence
Death is smooth and rough
But the grieve is
But a rancid bitterness
Death lights the woolly candle
She stirs in kleptomaniac toes
Trading upon domestic desert
The grievance of death
Wallows the mind in miry statute
The grievance of death
Summons ancient easy chairs
With their C headed walking stick
The red-cup headed chieftaincies
Floating in tears in their chieftainship
Death with the axe headed pestle
Trading upon domestic desert
Encroaching like a lion in the jungle
With her mighty sword
We have no choice
No reason but to join
Hence we can't say no
Children journeying in nursery rhymes
Black wrappers in their veiled heads
Weeping in tepid ogles
Death with thy barrel
To good ones
While the evil lives longer
The grievance of death
Thou shall die
When death shall die
(By Opurum Precious odiboy: Nigeria)
Copyright © odiboy 27/07/2016
I’m God’s workmanship* settled in His plan
He chose me before the world began
To belong to His royal clan
And bear His name in the best way I can.
I’m God’s creation according to His design
He formed me in my mother’s womb – so well and fine
To carry my parents’ genes and bloodline
And to fulfill His will, never to resign.
I’m God’s vessel which is His gracious project
He saved me from sin’s eternal defect
To transform me as my way He does direct
And leads me to His mercy I can’t reject.
I’m God’s student learning from His divine material
He quickened my soul, making me spiritual
To own assured salvation with life eternal
And abide by His standards that are biblical.
I’m God’s follower crafted through His tools daily
He imputed to me His righteousness truly
To enable me to strive to be holy
And to follow His Spirit humbly.
I’m God’s steward refined along His faithfulness
He bestowed on me abilities to use with skillfulness
To harness in the crucible of His fruitfulness
And be a blessing to others with joyfulness.
I’m God’s masterpiece molded toward His perfection
He took me out me out from the miry clay of corruption
To fashion me to fulfill His assigned function
And shine as vessel of honor for His exaltation.
*Ephesians 2:10 For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.
April 12, 2018
Edited on January 8, 2022
1st place, "Who Am I" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker; judged on 1/14/2022.
Featured as one among "Poem of the Week" on May 29-June 2, 2022.
I'm crushed you've cast away
priceless pearls for fool's gold.
My heavy heart in sadness sinks
anchored down, a strangle hold.
I mourn your fall, your shining star
has crashed, my hopes have died.
Distraught your vision is so marred
a punching blow, I suffocate inside.
I trip over my gilded dream for you
falling into a well of disrepair
a pit of anguish fills my soul
stuck in a muck of cold despair.
I drift through a miry bog
a witness to your foolish ways
and you, unfit to see or change
this dreary, disappointing day.
Written on 10/29/2015
Many moons ago,
a languishing lamentation flow
carved a grievous path
in the red soil
Defying moral gravity,
downtrodden fallow weeps
flowed upward to the heavens
With river Nile ease
Native American Exodus
wasn’t done willingly
Oh, how the Five Nations
were saber led forcibly!
Time traveling eyes
need not ask why
Oh, why does the Crow cry?
Ask rather,
why did the crimson-winged Eagle
tell a bald-faced lie?
Many blood moons ago,
there was an Abib scarlet woe flow
Rapid gushes
making a slow, sorrowful path
Towards barren adobe Reservations
Defying logic gravity,
nether voices
offered an uprooted exchange
Trade Choctaw fertile land
(whereupon Creek footfall doth Seminole stand)
for Chickasaw burial sand
Miry ground
to baleful irrigation
live sadly on
Trail of Tears Exodus
was a lamentation overflow undertaking
Oh, how the Five Nations
were talon misled horridly!
Perpetual Cherokee tears
for the living dead is levee heartbreaking
Posterity passenger eyes
need not ask why
Oh, why does the Crow cry?
Ask rather,
why did the granite-hearted Eagle
let so many weary souls die?
Experiencing depression’s a tragic thing; it consumes soul, body and mind.
It gnaws and gnaws till it debilitates you; a remedy's what you must find!
Once caught in its clutch, it’s so hard to escape, from the pit and the miry clay:
If you don’t do this, then you’ll never again, see the beautiful light of day.
The First method to use is to set out a plan; a plan that has reachable goals.
Get some advice from a ‘reliable’ source, advice that’s not ‘shot full of holes.’
The next thing in line is decidedly tough; it’s to make sure your plan performs.
Don’t get upset with a slip up or two, it’s a ‘must’ to ride through these storms!
When all this is done then have a review, programme this in, once a week.
Already you’ve started with positive terms; things will gradually look less bleak!!
God Brought Me Out Of The Miry Clay…
God brought me out
of the miry clay…
He set my feet on a
solid rock to stay!
God brought me out
of the deep pit I was in…
He gave to me a peace
and a joy within!
God brought me out
of hopelessness and despair…
And took me into his
mercy and care!
God brought me out
of a desperate situation…
And extended to me his gift of salvation!
God brought me out…
When everything seemed lost!
And helps me to focus on Christ’
victory at the cross!
God brought me out…
When no one else “gave me the time.”
He restored my life and gave me
peace of mind!
God can do the same for you…
As he did for me!
He desires to be with you
for eternity!
God can bring you out of whatever
trials you may face.
He’ll bring joy to your heart…
And provide a “resting place.”
God can do for you what no
other power can do!
He is still the same God.
And will forever LOVE YOU!
By Jim Pemberton 12/22/11
Lord, I don't understand.
Maybe I never did.
The destination of the path seemed so grand,
yet now it looks horrid!
Why?
The dragon You've placed, mine to fight
still breathes fire and brimstone in my neck,
but I'm armoured with incapability to smite
and the cobblestones You paved lead to this wreck.
Why?
I dreamt of the moon,
but couldn't reach the stars,
so I drifted into the sun and soon
I would be burnt with scars.
Why shroud my mind with dreams of peace at daylight's bend,
yet shred it with horrors at night?
Why let me pursue a rainbow when
there never was an end?
The past is bathed in murky waters
and clothed in miry clay.
Now the future looks no better
and mere words can't express what I wish to say.
Lord, here I lay at Your mercy,
angry and heartbroken.
You don't make mistakes and You set free.
Please, I beg be my beacon!
Loose the shackles,
break the chains
that I may serve You again.
Show me the true way You planned,
for I have reached the end of this one.
She recall her day when she sat by the window
And saw the defiled sky to brace up on with spiritual phantasm
Of some demonic begrudges – amassing and making
The flushing spirit of the late evening merriments and bichrome realism.
She beshrewed the iniquity rushing by, but it pelted upon
It bastardized her against the immorality of the nature
And she held up with no parole and desires…
She felt herself interred to the nature that despair.
The inquity that brigthened with thunderclaps and silver storm
She averted her fear and assailed against this rage
Acquainted herself with the nature she forefended
Pounded for few moments and synced with the lifelike stage.
She clapped, she laughed, she fantasied with the zesty consequence
She danced, she danced with the drops falling from the sky,
She sung her own rhythm catching her steps divine
The music prolonged as the clouds lightened and twittery lyrics whistled thereby.
Enduring the theme, she limned in her imagination
A life she yearned-for, A life she was not expecting
She painted in her heart an amorist she was looking for
Holding his hand she balled on the miry stage with pavan relieving.
The lust she felt over her drizzly body
Closed her eyes as she felt the touch of his lips on her belly
He took hold of her waist and she accured the fanciful time with reverence
She dangled holding the dampen trunk of a tree, and embraced her amorist
temptingly.
The flushing spirit that bestowed with mightiness and relief
She glittered with love, spirit, esteem and belief
All of a sudden she roused from her phantasies
Withal the monsoon girl lived her day, ceasing all her grief.
************************************************************************
Walking through the palace courts the King, adorned in pristine jewels of love ~
Virtuous, releasing a dove into the sky that it may fly to find, their place in the sun....
Crushed unto powder and dust to be caught amid the wind these lives; truths story?!
Mixtures of both night and day; throughout the seasons mingled within the mortars
Miry pits of sin that they may know these bricks, just how frail they truly are ~
A windows well; piercing the darkness which permeates, to loose these chains that bind....
Built by the hands in love this breath; reasons, amid puddles of mud they'll rise!?
Castaway; calling from the deep unto these shadows which flee at the presence in lights
Crystallizations to cast into the wind this sin, that it may forever be buried alive ~
Walking through pristines palace courts with the King; virtuous, its place in the sun....
************************************************************************
....“Children of The Immaculation” *
In these days of the dance
I will handle the bass
And strike with my finger
The strings of the guitar
Playing the tunes of love
Just to sing I love you Lord
You took me from the miry clay
You are my rock and stay
In your goodness and mercies
You showered me blessings
You school me in your kingdom college
That inspires my every knowledge
To you I give my whole heart
It will remain like that
I won’t cause heart break
For I have known how it pains
Let me be simple and plain
I want you to believe this:
I will not stir your jealousy
I will not break your heart, never
This is my song forever
This is the tune I’ll keep playing for love
Just to sing I love you Lord.
The sow beauty queen’s
favorite color is money green
The cloven jaw cutie’s
favorite sound is “cha-ching”
Miss Piggy Lips loves how the cash registers
throughout the land constantly rings
That jade oinkment noise
is a pigmentary salve to her greedy soul
She’s got a glut appetite for mo’ and mo’
Her imperial motto is:
“Mo’ money means mo’ toga rest,
and much less queen bee stress”
This regal swine loves to sit
in her towering pleasure palace pigpen,
and peso whine
and ruble dine
Miss Piggy Lips,
with the Pillsbury hips,
enjoys wallowing in the miry green dough
Mudslinging filthy lucre nods covetously so
Miss Piggy Lips,
with the greasy palm grip,
silver tongue yields coin swallowing squeals
Jade oinkment noise forfeits her unpaid bills
This oral apothecary fatty substance
is pocketbook soothing to the queen Midas soul
Gold pursed lip smacking
is how this triple jowl lady low down dirty roll
Those hog heaven eyes
got them snout gobbled green eggs
gulp hasty safely cracking
Her pigmentary belly rub etiquette
is sop share burp lacking
As those rotund royalties
never piggy bank lessen one lil’ bit
Jade oinkment noise
is very spit pernicious green
Pigmentary salve for the thin-skinned cries
of the profiteering unclean
Dyed paper lust has an emerald sheen
Phat bags under dollar sign eyes
be the makeup blush
for the Oval weight sow beauty queen
Miss Piggy Lips,
with the mint green painted toenails,
she loves the excess gossip that dirty tales sell
Flop sweat sleeping
in her palace penthouse pigsty,
she snore ignore the kingdom’s po’ travails
Wrapping herself in a muddy blanket of lies,
surrounding her obese body
with a methane swarm of toady tongue flies
Miss Piggy Lips,
the dung awful smell
coming from that
jade oinkment perfume trail
is just too much nasal pain to inhale
It’s so sickening to brain fart expel
Fat chance the stench makes anyone well
Condemned forever I was to wallow in hell’s despair
As filthy transgressor beyond reasonable doubt
Yet, with His grace, mercy and truth*, midst grave verdict’s stare
The Saviour in His love assuaged my eternal grief.
So blinded by pride, paralyzed from selfishness’ bout…
Oh, in sin’s deep miry clay I had sunk unaware
I thank the Lord, He reached down to me with pardon’s clout.
By faith, I now ascend for fruitful service welfare
Helping, cheering others turn toward heavenly route...
Assuring that though I face trials bringing heart’s scare
The Saviour in His love assuaged my eternal grief.
*Psalm 86:15 "But thou, O Lord, art a God full of compassion, and gracious, longsuffering, and plenteous in mercy and truth."
February 16, 2019
5th place, "Writing Challenge, Feb 2019, Roundel Form" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Dear Heart; judged on 3/6/2019.
For your question that seeks my honesty
On "Who do you think you are?" with poetry's beauty
Here am I revealing my identity
Along my spiritual bio-data filled by God's bounty...
I’m God’s blessed workmanship settled in His plan;
He chose me before the world began
To belong to His royal clan
And bear His name in the best way I can.
I’m God’s adopted child according to His design;
He formed me in my mother’s womb – so well and fine
To carry my parents’ genes and bloodline
And to fulfill His will, never to resign.
I’m God’s redeemed property seen as His project
He saved me from sin’s eternal defect
To transform me as my way He does direct
And leads me to His grace I can’t reject.
I’m God’s privileged steward by His divine material
He quickened my soul to be heaven-bound and celestial
To own assured salvation with life eternal
And abide by His standards that are biblical.
I’m God’s on-the job trainee crafted thru His tools daily
He imputed to me His righteousness truly
To enable me to strive to be holy
And to follow His Spirit humbly.
I’m God’s called servant molded toward His perfection
He took me out me out from the miry clay of corruption
To fashion me to fulfill His assigned function
And shine as vessel of honor for His exaltation.
I’m God’s upheld missionary strengthened by His faithfulness
He bestowed on me abilities to use with skillfulness
To harness in the crucible of His fruitfulness
And be a blessing to others with joyfulness.
*1Corinthians 15:10 But by the grace of God I am what I am...
August 22, 2018
3rd place, "Who Do You Think You Are" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Caren Krutsinger
Judged on 8/27/2018