Best Outreaches Poems
Since time immemorial across the Universe—
Traces of my vapor, my dust trails, my footprints, my being
Light up the skies of innumerable planets etching themselves
Indelibly in the consciousness of the stars and making visible
Impressions in the cold continuum of deep dark space.
I’m mere particle matter—in reality, an iota of infinity that
Continues its travel through time and space and all dimensions
Visiting the vast frontiers of the Universe while leaving minute
Traces of my Cosmic DNA.
I’m part of the Universe’s great existential family—
My quest is to travel, to arrive, to be one with everything I touch,
And to savor a continuous divine purpose.
What unbounding possibilities there are as I traverse the far
Outreaches of dark space on Flight Paths of Eternity.
And sometimes I’m a part of rainbows that kiss the Face of God.
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved (March 24, 2014)
(Free Verse)
Smiling Spitting Deadly Sins
Son of the Devil evil and twisted when his mask falls away
Through the curtains of death he turns truth into dark lies
With horrible shadows haunting over Love's light so pure
As jealousy reveals shades of a Soul’s envy at this moment
Cunningly you crawl behind colors pride with selfish hurting
Innocence casting stones—the fruits of a hideous lurking evil
Filling you with stupid silly emotions crying crocodile tears
Hate is your playground game as the Dark One takes his souls
Weeping from the deep wounds inflicted on others at your wish
While fighting one lost battle as your words burn from the ugly
Fork of your tongue while spitting venom they become a vile
Poison in which every last drop makes one’s very skin crawl
When I see the light of truth awakening in your Soul’s eyes
I really see a Hell-Fire scorching red hot who is the real you
Your pretty tongue of thy father speaks the evil words of the
King of Lies to my heart as it is touched by the serpent’s rasp
Yet ever you can never always hide behind this perfidious mask
And such words of beauty will not always hide what lies within
The darkest outreaches of your Soul’s descent into damnation
For Love itself is a journey of the gentle divine and the innocent
But those who breathe the Hell-Fire can only fool us all so long
And when their mask falls away they speak with a serpent’s tongue
So vile and gruesome that they know not of Love as they strike and
Bring eternal pain holding the Devil’s sword with their blackened hand
Causing pain with greatest relish as they laugh heartily at the pain
Inflicted on others not really knowing what they hold in their hand
In hate and anger while striking out at all innocent souls as their
Double-edged sword waits for those from the depths of Hell itself
Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 9, 2015 (Unrhymed Quatrain)
Smiling Spitting Deadly Sins
Son of the Devil evil and twisted when his mask falls away
Through the curtains of death he turns truth into dark lies
With horrible shadows haunting over Love's light so pure
As jealousy reveals shades of a Soul’s envy at this moment
Cunningly you crawl behind colors pride with selfish hurting
Innocence casting stones—the fruits of a hideous lurking evil
Filling you with stupid silly emotions crying crocodile tears
Hate is your playground game as the Dark One takes his souls
Weeping from the deep wounds inflicted on others at your wish
While fighting one lost battle as your words burn from the ugly
Fork of your tongue while spitting venom they become a vile
Poison in which every last drop makes one’s very skin crawl
When I see the light of truth awakening in your Soul’s eyes
I really see a Hell-Fire scorching red hot who is the real you
Your pretty tongue of thy father speaks the evil words of the
King of Lies to my heart as it is touched by the serpent’s rasp
Yet ever you can never always hide behind this perfidious mask
And such words of beauty will not always hide what lies within
The darkest outreaches of your Soul’s descent into damnation
For Love itself is a journey of the gentle divine and the innocent
But those who breathe the Hell-Fire can only fool us all so long
And when their mask falls away they speak with a serpent’s tongue
So vile and gruesome that they know not of Love as they strike and
Bring eternal pain holding the Devil’s sword with their blackened hand
Causing pain with greatest relish as they laugh heartily at the pain
Inflicted on others not really knowing what they hold in their hand
In hate and anger while striking out at all innocent souls as their
Double-edged sword waits for those from the depths of Hell itself
Gary Bateman, Liam McDaid, and Michael Clarke
A Collaborated Poem, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
August 9, 2015 (Unrhymed Quatrain)
My Pet Poems, WOODY
Not long after our heart-stealing beauty
Watson passed, Jim drove me off from
The breeder’s and I sat in the passenger seat
With a cocker, colored a light maize/vanilla,
Cupped in my palms on my lap, while we
Discussed what to name him. He was
Our peace, to be our joy after the pain.
Alert, turning his head to note our voices; and
More comforting, like nostalgic times past,
Like a loved sweater kept for Saturday’s, or
The splendid fedora my dad kept placed just so
Atop his Chinese cabinet.
We called him Woody. It fit. Happy pup,
One dog even Jim’s mom adored, as
She offered to dog-sit and bought him
A stuffed monkey that he took 5 years to
Tear up, with only the squeaking head left.
It was playing ball that Woody loved.
Not even to walking with us in the park without
Scouring all over baseball in-fields and outreaches
For any and all balls he could find, at times
Eagerly perplexed about how to
Fit two in his moth at one time, which was
Much easier with tennis balls than softballs, but
The geometry missed him, making
Him huff laughs, while he kept trying to fit them.
Cocker’s hair grows long and, then, we
Couldn’t afford a groomer, so I’d trim him myself.
Once when he was older, I nipped him.
There was blood and I wept with apologies, until,
I’ll never forget, I learned from him on that day
About forgiveness. For he seemed to say,
Licking my hand, “What’s wrong, momma?
No harm done.” He comforted me. Not I, him.
If ever, there were a case to be made
For God sending us
Some angels in the form of dogs,
Woody was one,
Bringing love, lessons, loyalty, and laughter
— as dogs will do it — dear boy. Miss you.
Play ball!
—————————————————————————————————
(c) sally Young eslinger 2021
Thanks be to God
One spring day,
An angel plays,
A magical play...
She made me sit
On the back of a butterfly...
Huuuh huuuh huuuh
Oye yea yea!!!
Hmm hmm hmm...
I hum...
Hsss hsss hss,
The breeze sings
Hearing our songs
The flowers dance
O, those lovely moves,
dancing angels they are, proved
Put us into a trance
at the very first glance;
Enchanting event,
The angels' dance
Red, blue, orange, purple and yellow
The vibrant colours paint the plain meadow
When my butterfly choses a purple one
The one which is my favourite, I silently grin
Wow!!! Never seen the flowers this close
Oh oh!!! Heavenly hues on their clothes
Couldn't narrate their cherubic colors
"Queens of the earth", certainly they are
Savouring the nectar of the flowers
The Butterfly has got more power
Now she is ready to reach the towers
Hurray!!! The sky is now ours
My soul outreaches the sky
Looks alike, the lows and highs
When I see the Earth and beyond
My wavering mind lands on the ground
When our soul discerns the almighty
Our mind becomes very light
Purpose of life, it perceives
Contentented life it achieves
July -09- 2023
Sighting the plankton,
it was the moondown
entry, of heron
in the lake.
*
Flawless, a big fish
eats the small fish.
It was not a
faux pas.
*
The animalism
outreaches. Would you
now go for a
favourite deity ?
Satish Verma
im no secret its plan too see and the powers that be beg my help I might need too watch my step. the world is in paral I see so I guess I die helping the world I love whating every day for selah too show herself too me is pure agony. now I cant really speak about what I do but this slavery I live protects the u.s. and barrack Obama loves this country a lot ive trusted him from the very start and know they aren't going too take our people all of you love tim myrll that's one of my boss man for money im going too have too force his hand all the plots against the usa and intelligent is catching them ive caught billion my friend.dont leave mark harper out cause my stand for the poor,homeless and clinical outreaches we are going too start we love u all jesus is also for the cause
Bestowed am I with grace-extravagance
As God’s child, loved upon merciful might
Beautified by holiness’ elegance
Secured in His compassion day and night
To march forward along service-delight.
With bountiful wondrous blessings to share
I pray, “Lord, my heart, please faithfully grant
Joy in giving and willingness to care;
Vanquish selfishness, vainly arrogant
Please make me generously triumphant.”
Endowed greatly with heavenly riches*
I’m assured with eternal life’s bounty
Midst pursuits for stewardship-outreaches
Optimizing each opportunity
For diligent Gospel preaching’s duty.
Braced by sovereign power’s engagement
Grateful am I for divine fulfillment.
*Philippians 4:19 But my God shall supply all your need according to his riches in glory by Christ Jesus.
April 16, 2019
"Urban Sonnet"
1st place, "YOUR CHOICE(4),any form,any theme" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 6/9/2019.
The insider,
of a windowless room
outreaches a gun.
A signature assault
nips at your heels
in revenge.
Mind in a rubber sac,
in search of-
a real country.
A balloon thought,
soars high, towards infinity,
to snoop at the god.
You should have
myriad tears, for the
fallen,*Black Beauty from unknown.
Satish Verma
With hearts closed,
And arts wide opened;
They looked on-
As a soul gradually turned off
Again,
The misset sat;
On that road of this and that
Indeed, its a system of maladies
These times are ill
With thoughts paralysed,
By the hits from selfie sticks
A soul laid dying
Fingers kept clicking;
As pictures of thick betise,
Dangled on the walls of truth
Gosh! These times are harebrained
With enough strength from negligence,
The flower finally withered;
For every click,
Made her demise silky
Again,
Another gain is gone;
Lost to the clutches of harum-scarum
Alas! These times are pallid
With nude values,
These times cough out this and that;
As our morals stay sneezing
Will and zeal are left shrinking
Interests remain broken
And wiseness still stuck in ice,
For probably, these times are cold
We used to care to care
And dare to share;
When truth wasn't rusted
And our roots had it's flair
When morals weren't watery
And our morale were still thick;
Rich in outreaches,
That stitched all hitches
How long would we blame witches,
For the cause of our fall?
Daily we hear preaches,
Yet we still seem here
Here,
Stuck in this rock of this and that
Surely, these times are snoring;
Let sleeping times wake!
Silt collects at the outreaches of an ancient, murky marsh.
Twisted tendrils of white oleander form archaic symbols.
Deviant rituals, cocooned and lost eons ago, lie awash—
Taken to the surface, unleashed by a cacophony of demonic cymbals.
Now, time suddenly stops by this grotesque swash.
War is waged, and humanity becomes a mere memento, just a collection of broken trinkets in otherworldly drawers, like lost thimbles.
delectable dolphins
dancing here
near harbor
Instead of gondolas
white swans float
like the boats
Animals,puff
healthily, gallivant
without tumult
A little bird's chirp
outreaches our ears
piercingly
A single word
has made crucial changes
across the world
And some creatures
are happy about it
and a few are not
We, the humans
are just like other creatures
before nature, the creator
Regrettably,
we pay a lot
to fathom the bitter fact
Falling from a lofty mountain,
the river outreaches the village,
where a mob awaits to nudge
and others build the hedge.
Little drops from the fluffy clouds
set foot on the treasured ground,
sometimes dampen the heat wounds
and sometimes make houses drown
Majestic tree gives shades to cows and pigs,
but kills the worms by hurling its twigs.
And the regal sun gives life to flowers,
but blazes the boneless worms that crawl
Even the nature, alike the god,
bestows blessings to some
and blows curses on others.
And when we question them
they both go dumb
incuplating the karma...
Church Today
The small church sanctuary was empty.
Well, not really, that is never exactly true.
There are always angels,
playing in the rafters,
tiptoeing across the piano keys,
or chasing each other,
back and forth among the flowers.
Sometimes they go home,
with the saints,
to help cheer,
and protect the weak ones,
guided by the ever,
and complete protection,
of Our Lord Himself.
Sundays everyone comes,
At least everyone tries.
but that is not the only time,
that church is full.
There is Sunday school, and bible study.
There are outreaches and causes.
There are also… needs.
The weak that plead for prayer,
The strong that share the burden.
The cheerful to spread more light,
and the serious to make sure…
the lights are paid,
when the balances are due.
God in His abundance,
ever growing His church.
Not the building or the steeple,
but the very walls,
He calls…
His people.
An amazing moonlit hazy walk,
A knotted wooden park bench to talk,
A slip of the arm over her petite shoulder
Heart racing, she smiles, he’s feeling bolder
He rises and outreaches his shaky hand,
Coaxing her to embrace as they stand,
Slowly he pulls her close to his large frame
She’s so shy, wondering if it will ever be the same
He gives a deep throaty sigh, a meek glimpse
Blinking slow, he’s focussing on lips,
A gentle blast of minty breath,
Her mahogany eyes on his black eyes, they rest,
Her eyes on his, searching south,
To that fading smile and perfect heart-shaped mouth,
Unbeknownst, her fingers rise to touch it, so smooth
He relaxes, he’s paralysed, with her touch, he can’t move
Her lips, he sees, seem plump and ready
Her heart racing, her chest rises unsteadily
Her flushed cheeks giving a sly smile
His thoughts, he realise, are going wild
The wind blows her hair, crazy thoughts; anticipation,
Unbelief at this wonderful, final situation,
Longing looks leading to this tight embrace,
The girl of his dreams, now fantastically face to face
Speech gone, syllables lost, even ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘maybe so’,
Pleads not for her to converse, frozen from head to toe
She realises his great height, she cannot reach his lips
He realises too, like this is written in a script
His frame lowers down, his eyes start to close
She wraps her arms round, rises on the balls of her toes
Her heart beating against his chest, he cannot resist,
His lips finally touch hers, they melt, in their very first kiss