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The Best Perspective Poems

Real Men Wear Pink

I stand about five feet eight
I'll admit, I'm a tad overweight
Drive an old pick up truck
Not one to pass the buck
At the moment have a dog for a mate

Dropped out of school at eighteen
Got married in a pair of old jeans
A father of four
When I sleep, I snore
When angered been known to get mean

I grew up huntin' and fishin'
Done more than my share of wishin'
Been in a few fights
Know I'm not always right
For my age, still in decent condition

In my life, I've worked many hard jobs
Its been said, "I'm rough as a cob"
I've smoked and drank
Spent time in the tank
And never, not once, did I sob

I also love being outside
My old skin is weathered and dried
Still play in the dirt
Cuss when I'm hurt
But I do have a softer side

Poetry, I read and I write
These days, prefer music to be lite
Love trees and flowers
Warm spring showers
And swinging on stars at night

I like women who like to hold hands
Take moonlight walks on the sand
Curves excite me
Whispers invite me
A good listener who tries to understand

I wash dishes, do laundry and floors
Clean bathrooms, wash walls and doors
I'm a pretty good cook
Without a cookbook
To be honest, don't mind household chores

Just so you're perfectly clear
I've traveled from there to here
Simple but complex
Know love's more than sex
And on occasion I cry manly tears

Yes sometimes I even wear pink
Wear cologne to make sure I don't stink
Write poems about birds
Use everyday words
And I don't give a damn what you think!



    by Daniel Turner

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2017

My Shoes

My shoes have traveled miles of roads
Their soles are worn quite thin
Struggling with this heavy load
I carry deep within
Beyond repair, no longer shine
Scuffed with many stains
It's mostly been an uphill climb
Some sunny days, some rain

A little big when they were new
With ample room to grow
This green stain here on my left shoe
Was puberty's first blow
Those salt stains there, that's sweat and tears
Still damp from being heartbroken
They've darkened some throughout the years
Old wounds that were reopened

There are no stains from happy tears
I finally understood
Obviously they disappeared
Right after parenthood
All these scuff marks 'long the sides
Well they're from clumsiness
From times I fell and hurt my pride
A reminding subsequence

They've danced and skated, loved and dated
Walked a few high wires
Death devastated, been mismated
Even walked through hell's hot fires
It's said that one can tell a lot
By looking at one's shoes
Until you've worn these shoes I've got
You really have no clue



  an original poem by Daniel Turner
   NOT FOR CONTEST

Copyright © Daniel Turner | Year Posted 2016

Slave

Like a herd of cattle, placed on a ship.
Upon my back, I felt their whip!
Ripping into my flesh, excruciating pain.
Forced across the big water on a trip.

Living in darkness with little to eat.
The feel of chains around my feet.
Amidst tortured cries, the ship did shake.
Waves pounded the hull with relentless beat.

Only once a day, would we see the sky.
Huge sails, caused the ship to fly.
Further and further away from my home.
Feeling confused not understanding why!

A white devil, steered the wooden ship.
All his mates evil with scabbed putrid lips.
Yet we, depended on them for our lives.
Without them, into the ocean we'd slip.

The journey long, felt like an eternity!
I longed to be anywhere but on the sea.
My mind occupied with thoughts of my home.
yet, I could not escape this horrible enemy!

Sick and dying were forced to walk the plank.
Then into the cold water they quickly sank.
The sailors laughed, as the last man was tossed!
Their spirits boistered with the rum they drank.

Many days later we finally made land.
A place of stone and wood, I could see no sand.
Crack of the whip, we rose to our feet.
"Off of my ship!"was the devil's final command!


For Verlena's "Writing in a black Perspective" Contest



Story continued for my own pleasure, not part of the entry.

Slave Part Two

Brought in chains, to a raised wooden stage.
Bids tallied carefully, sales written on a page.
That was when I witnessed, a most perfect girl.
Bought by a fat man, she was placed in a cage!

I was up next, I stood still as he bid on me.
"One dollar, gimme two, two dollars, sold for three!"
Then I was taken and locked up in the cage with her.
Together we both dreamt, of one day being free.

Brought to the plantation, in late September.
I worked in cotton fields, until November.
Then I would be purposed, to cutting fire wood.
For cold and snow came, by early December.

In the evening, we were left to be with our kind.
While in the big house, our master dined.
Later at dusk, my angel girl would come.
Her beauty so amazing, she made me blind!

The taste of her body, my rememberance of home.
We gave each other pleasure, when we were alone.
Even though the master, wanted her for only him.
I felt like a free man, when I would hear her moan!

Her pregnant, I wondered if the child was mine?
If I was the father, I would be bound in twine.
Still inside I prayed, that the child belonged to me.
In the end, that would be certainly be fine.

Nine months later, almost to the day.
The love of my life was taken away.
In death our child born, middle of September.
The master's anger, I could not sway.

I was awoken, ripped out of my bed!
He took out a musket loaded with lead.
Finally free, in spirit we both travel.
There are certainly worse things, than being dead!

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2015

Simple Musings From A Heterosexual Male with Unkempt Facial Hair

     Every discovery started with absolutely 
     no idea of where to start...
     
     There is not enough time in a lifetime
     to measure success...

     Just as there is pain in uncertainty,
     there is peace in faith...

     We thrive in our communal happiness,
     we parish in derisive pain...

     Death is much less reliable in peace.
     In war, we can put up a more 
     reasonable defense...

     We can waste a lifetime seeking happiness
     from someone else's approval...

     Our happiness should always be seen
     in the kindness of our eyes...

     With desires held in check,
     less becomes more...

     When a smile becomes a laugh,
     you've found happiness...

     Love is helping someone discover that they
     are better than what they thought they were...

     Unfathomable contentment is a poet
     finishing the last line of a poem...
    
     
     
     

Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2017

Write My Life

When I first surrendered all to You
it wasn’t clear to me,
that You became the author;
my life, Your poetry.
The pages of my life were dark.
You made them snowy white.
And then with mastery and skill
You began to write.
Each day a different style and form
something fresh and new
always timely and spot on
and never overdue.

So Lord, what will it be today
that flows from Your ready pen
across this chapter of my life
that will be read by men?
Will it be a monorhyme
of how You came through for me just in time?
Perhaps it’s an ottava rima
in perfect pentameter
that tells how my love for You
has grown deeper and much sweeter.
It just might be a ballad
with a tender and touching refrain
of how I stumbled and faltered
but You picked me back up again.
Could there be a principle
that I really need to learn
which You’ll write upon my life
as a repetitive quatern?
Since the furtherance of Your kingdom
is Your holy and noble tactic
perhaps You’ll craft in me
a revelatory didactic.
Diamante, tanka, limerick, haiku,
Lord, the choice is up to You.
Of all poetic forms that be
You know what to engrave on me.
Free verse or even hexaverse diminished
Dear God, please write on until my story is finished.

4/26/17



I learned several years ago from a minister that preached at our church that the Greek word for workmanship in the verse below is “poiema”, from which our English word “poem” is derived. This was my inspiration for this poem.


Ephesians 2:10(KJV)  For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that we should walk in them.

 For we are His workmanship [His own master work, a work of art], created in Christ Jesus [reborn from above—spiritually transformed, renewed, ready to be used] for good works, which God prepared [for us] beforehand [taking paths which He set], so that we would walk in them [living the good life which He prearranged and made ready for us].Ephesians 2:10(Amplified Bible)

Copyright © Carol Connell | Year Posted 2017

Today

     Embrace the miracle of Today's birth;
     the beginning of everything.
     
     Incapable of re-living
     or pre-living its ownership,     
     our character bares definition
     by the gratitude displayed
     for every moment in its presence.

     It is renewal,
     joyful in its divinity.

     May we be strong enough to engage it,
     generous enough to share it
     and wise enough not to waste its invitations...

     Poem Of The Day 06/06/2018

Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2018

Departed Friendships

For Linda, Freddie, Chan, & others that meant something true to us…

Another departure…

Another wistful teardrop
Embracing yesterday’s candid goodbye

No longer can we touch their physical soul. 

But, we
Can keep amnesia’s accented clef at bay

Holding their voice beyond new tomorrows

…

It is the triangle of life’s conundrum
When we slow dance with the arms of Why
The breaths of How
The misunderstood elegance of inevitabilities

We are taught the 2 guarantees of life: Death & Taxes

Yet, only one really means more to us
Within sunrise’s incipience

We hold convex reflections with incandescent sadness.

Yet, time allows opportunity to fly higher than God’s perspective
EVEN through our limited wisdoms
While we cherish
Remember
The Candles in our wind

…

I whisper silent prayers for our friends, family, & colleagues that now SOAR WITHIN!

For they may no longer be in front of you & I...

They are
And always shall be

By
Our 
Side

©Drake J. Eszes

 I was honored to have Chan on our Stand As 1 show back in March 2014. It was a deeply memorable show. You can listen to how it all went down here: http://www.blogtalkradio.com/standas1/2014/03/16/stand-as-1-returns-wspecial-guest-that-archaic-poet 

Copyright © Drake Eszes | Year Posted 2014

Tears from my Ancestors

I'll drink tears from my ancestors in silence
From history's cup of their defiance
I'll sit in darkness where my soul is torn
and quench my parched thirst of self reliance

To understand their hell and be reborn
Remembering iron shackles, blood stained, worn
My mind reveals stones from a slaver's wall
Crumbling through years from a past I mourn

I carry each stone to the master's wall
Pulled from stoney fields with blood as a shawl
I'll stand among ruins of an anguished time
With memories of tears, feeling them fall

I touch every scar as history is blind
Reach my hands upward, my spirit will climb
and free my caged soul so a healing comes
I'll drink tears from my ancestors so they remind


contest..Writing in a Black Perspective
2/25/15

Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2015

Moment of Truth

I was walking with two friends of mine,
when we saw a woman
who was tall, beautiful and black
They spoke lewd to her,
so she didn't speak back
In their rejected anger,
they cursed her in a cruel, mean tone
That's when I interceded,
and said leave the poor woman alone
My two friends looked at me
like I was some kinda traitor
That day we parted ways,
there would be no more days of see ya later

In a moment of truth,
will you stand up for the truth
Or will you back down,
and keep your mouth shut

It's moments like those
that reveal what manner of person you are
Will you be naked or clothed,
will your spirit be dark,
or will it shine like a star

Nobody ever said friendships are forever,
not when you have to compromise
your integrity in a matter

In a moment of truth,
don't keep your mouth closed
Let your voice roar
like a lion, strong and bold

Copyright © Freddie Robinson Jr. | Year Posted 2016

Trying to Grasp The Magnificent

I sense the fullness 
in fleeting moments
At those rare times 
I'm able to let go of me
The ebbs and flows 
of non linear thinking
when I am part of the everything 
I was born to be

For within the simple
Magnificence is grasped
The beginning precedes an ending
that in the future will be passed
Over and under 
all the spaces in between
If we look only with our eyes
the answers won't be seen

Quiet is not time wasted
each moment we have has been lent
Some things don't require saying
Through actions we learn what is meant
Feel the power of pausing
Within a moment thoughts can crystallize 
By choosing to listen with intention 
We learn the wheres and whys

Observations is much more important 
then any of my (me)s or (I)s
I often get lost within my own talking
and hold onto my wordy lies
When I use a different kind of perspective
I hear the whispering of the Wise
Floating upon eternal verses
as within my being they steadily rise

Viewing the mosaic of all creation
The wonder of how all things interconnect
the order of God's magnificence 
creates inner peace and Holy respect
My thoughts are no longer singular
Like droplets of water ideas collect
The things in life most important
I see things I didn't expect
For no person is truly independent 
Through God's grace we draw every breath
Here within this total miracle 
I've witnessed God's width and His depth!


I believe our souls recognize our creator when we are in tune with God's Creation.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2016

- Fight With Dragons And Wolves -

Take me into the realm of your midnight dreams awakening sleep 
Bring us to a higher level far away from misery and despair
Where waves through oceans are kissed by a salted breeze blowing 

A place where mind can fly upon strong waves, straight lines on white sheets
Trembling currents grasp one breathless moment holding time 
No one will not lead us, even if it blows up to storm force gale 

Circle of twilight's halo under magic spells cast breathing fire starbursts 
Stars living on self produced energy under horizon's steps forward 
A mirror reflection of a faraway kingdom reflecting of the sun 

Faced with light internally stored faithful mercy yields 
We call life a mystery unforgettable the words of faith, hope and love
Crowning angels you came before me a queen 

Defeating the dragons and fighting wolves from preying sacrifice 
We find a personal point of common ground held in between world's 
Viewing life as the canvas we paint upon our memories 










29.04.2017
(Unrhymed tercets)
A Collaborated Poem 
Anne-Lise Andresen and Liam Mc Daid
Copyright © All Rights Reserved

Copyright © Sunshine Smile | Year Posted 2017

Warts and all

Warts and all

She made a mistake 
when she kissed  a toad
No castle or carriage 
She chose a rough road
He had a few warts
he wasn't debonair or cool
Others scoffed and they laughed
But our toad wasn't a fool

For love was a potion
He knew she believed
He tried so very hard
With his heart he achieved
For she was so lovely
So caring and serene
concerned only with his heart
Not the places he'd been

It wasn't very easy 
it was in fact it was tough
to be in love with a princess
and have less than enough
But she never complained
Not a whimper or cry
She said he was amazing
He was her special guy

So he worked night and day
from the inside he grew
he became all he could be
the Prince that she knew
Yes they found their happy
Him kind and never a jerk
Love indeed conquers all
with a smidgen of hard work

Together they built castles
chariots and other things
Traveled on positive thoughts
and the gifts that love brings
So if you see a toad smiling
know that that toad is just me
a kiss from my princess
thankfully set me free

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2017

Photos with Glitches on Invisible Wings

You're a camera obscura, a broken bell's rings,
You made me dance slowly on sad phantom strings.
You always had the slightly off-color touch,
Your insensitive skin never softened up much.

Our meals were quiet with subtle trespass,
Off like a mispronounced requiem mass.
I corrupted your files, threw you askew,
You knew my pictures weren't entirely true.

We never could see in each other's mirrors,
Our focus was broken, our lenses were tears
That clouded our vision, that shrouded the past,
Our statements were false, or if pure couldn't last.

I voided your interest, the chasm was steep,
You fell into boredom, I put you to sleep.
You woke up translucent, you dissolved in the air,
Did I ever see you, were you ever there?


December 17, 2016
For Daniel Turner's contest - 'What was I thinking'

Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016

An adequate vocal gesture

I do have purpose
that stays near
a constant reminder 
of my inner child

As my conscienceness
shines through to create 
a new perspective
I break out of my cocoon

Only to discover that 
I find places where
the sanctity of my being
does not flow as it should

My intuition is what 
guides me though
there is no longer the 
desire for the constant 
upheaval of tragedy to strike
upon me

On my journey I have 
discovered that there 
are many hidden truths

So as my spirit ascends 
I am inspired by my bravery...

If I am frightened 
by the visibility that 
standing proud does to me
then I shall stand even taller

No longer will I fear 
the degradation that
once was my shadow
there is no home here 
for the shame any longer

And I will no longer be 
swayed by the fragments of defeat
When I become sorely tempted by
sheer exhaustion

And I think I can't
make it on my own
I will remember that 
I am walking this
road of life for me...

Copyright © Christine Wessels | Year Posted 2007

Absolute Truth-Full Liar

A golden coin flipped into the sky
One side is absolute truth
the other side is stamped with lies
Hope it lands right/wrong side up
so you can partially realize 
the truth doesn’t always set you free
Sometimes deception leads to wise

Neither side exists
without the other
Truth and lies are Siamese brothers
Born of necessities 
yet neither of them has a mother
Look up look down
all things can offend and bother 
Absolute truth or filthy clean lies 
there are so many things that they Father 
We are temporary our purpose is significant fodder 
so through our inequities we wander

Spin the coin
the image you will see
is the blending of who we think we might be
Witness our insanity
by looking back at lying throughout history 
Yet there is truth hidden 
flickering within the spin 
start over finish 
once more begin
Words alone can’t set us free
Centrifugal force thinking 
trapped inside each possibility
Rooted in our impure paternity
Watch how friends become the enemy
Perspectives changing depending on adversity
Truthfully can anyone know 
who they are meant to be
Rise up or see life on bended knee

What is it that words hope inspire
A coin can only be destroyed by fire
Live life find what you desire
We’re all tethered together
by a hidden wire
Truth or a lie 
lower and higher
Kind or cruel 
or self loathing despiser 
We’re born of muck and mire
Aspire to be a flyer
or maybe just a consumed buyer
Still all energy will eventually expire
do it all before you tire
Tell  the absolute truth
or if you choose be a liar!

 

06/25/2018
Submitted to Brenda Chiri's Abandon Poetry Contest.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2018

About Time

Seconds lost on questioning,
why time's not left to chance?
Each moment is everlasting,
fate's no relentless circumstance.

We act as if time can be saved,
how pointless to believe.
Never has one debt been paid
from hours or days received.

A lifetime is a leaf of yesterday
with no relevance to tomorrow.
Reliving doubts will just betray
all claims once paid with sorrow.

There is no time for one to slay
with so many aspirations left in play.

Copyright © Charlie Smith | Year Posted 2018

Moons Distress

The moon's once effervescent shine
now hangs low as if in distress
as the heavens shower me
with tears of the once bright celestial being
soaking me in the hurt and sadness it feels
I raise my head up, arms outstretched
allowing it to pound my body 
my will can bring it some happiness
somehow someway
but the tears only fall faster
chocking back any words I wanted to say
bringing me to my knees I fall
 on to the soaked earth
wet with despair slowing racing 
almost engulfing me in it's sadness
I struggle to my feet
not to be swept into the fast flowing current
my reserve growing weaker
I look for anything to grab ahold 
before my legs are pulled from under me
swallowing me into the current 
turned raging river
but all around me is already swept away
"Why am I still here?"
"Why haven't I been swept away?"
when a few stars peek out 
and smile down upon me
as if to say no matter the sadness 
or tears they are there to show me a light
when I look over realizing
an oak tree had wrapped me
 in it's leafy branches
nestling me in it's bough
It's canapy stopping most of the tears
 but not all
I was so worried about the moon
I hadn't seen my safety here
Yet this tree was me
but I hadn't seen my strength
I hadn't looked beyond the moon 
to see the stars
I am bigger than the moon more vast
that's why the stars held my truth
shining upon me showing me 
the moon will rise and fall
each night
but I will stand as a great oak
nothing will bring me down!??

October 2018

Copyright © Brenda Chiri | Year Posted 2018

Support Your Local Poet

“Support your local poet please”
Said the man with hand out and down on one knee
I’m down on my luck
And for only a buck
My humble verses will put you at ease

Whatever your pleasure
Whatever your mood
A simple rhyme is sure to soothe
Perhaps a Sonnet or Ballad will do
Or maybe a Limerick for a laugh or two

How about a Couplet or a fine Crystalline
Or is a simple Haiku more your scene?
I’ll sing you a Lyric if you have the time
Or spill out an Ode as sweet as wine

I’m a simple man’s poet
Just trying to get by
So hearken your ear and I’ll tell you no lies
I am what I am no less no more
The words of this soul are an open door
For my tongue is richly blessed though some think me poor

I assure you my friend this isn’t a scheme
Just give me a listen you’ll see what I mean
For words can be such a valuable thing
When they make one think… “perchance to dream”

- This write prompted by the above sticker. I received it from some fellow poets while attending an open poetry night at a coffee house in downtown Flint, Michigan several years ago. It now proudly adorns my guitar case. :)

Copyright © Chris Hagy | Year Posted 2017

Ordinary

The world is full of ordinary people
Doing ordinary things,
Living ordinary lives
On this tiny speck of floating rock
In a limitless sea of space.
How extraordinary is that?

Copyright © Jim Slaughter | Year Posted 2018

Choosing Sides

Even as a child of God -
when it came right down to it
she stood firmly on her child’s side
not God’s 

.. and damn
how I envied that..

my friend
much to my dismay
chose a parent
as a closest confidant
breaking all laws of teenage angst
and going against
all preconceived
conceptions, norms and nature

I watched as they walked
a harrowed path together
mom being there 
for child -
smugly snuggly hammocked 
in an emotional safety net

.. and damn
how I envied that..


I walked my path alone
because my mother
would have chosen 
God’s side...

.. and damn
how I now envy that..



Susan Ashley
September 9, 2018

Copyright © Susan Ashley | Year Posted 2018

As I Plot Just One More Day

As I Plot Just One More Day

Desperate as the waking at blackest dawn
I seek only moments within eternity,
for the day upon me is long 
and I do not ponder its end

Forever that blackened door beckoned
in tones of promising delights
who can know what lies in its beyond
perhaps a cure for the world's pains
I walk halls leading to its hurts
echoes that resounded as if playing
with no malice, future screams at my hesitation
as I plot just one more day
as I hide my lusts just one more day

Decadent as the lust of gloomiest noon
I am immersed in the consummation
and overpowered in the contest, yet hopeful
that still I may embrace eternity's devious charm

Never ending cycles eat into a wanton soul
they are all too familiar
and their boredom becomes a chain
a rasp in my dying breath
I hear its rhythm and each echo speaks
O' that parade of desires hides deep within
as the dark expands its borders
as I plot just one more day
as I hide my lusts just one more day

Dire as the languishing at darkening dusk
I seek an eternity of moments
to sate my lust and quell my rage,
to forgive and to be forgiven

A Robert Lindley and Lawrence Sharp collaboration
10-11-2018

Poetry Note- 
I am very pleased to have found a new and fantastic writing partner 
that presents fantastic free verse poetry in its top form. This our first collaboration was a true pleasure and great joy to create. We both found ourselves in tune, as we worked to present this dark free verse poetry, that depicts the darker side of this world, past wayward youthful experiences and a look at what even today our youth face in this unforgiving and to oft deceptive, corrupt and tempting world that rewards darkness, and giving in to wanton desires. 
The magnificent verses my writing partner contributed to the creation of this piece sincerely awe me-  as I am learning of the depths, beauty, great and high artistic value in creating and reading free verse poetry, Both my thanks and my appreciation come from a sincere and very appreciative heart. 

Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2018

Slamming The Super-Duper-Soupers

you want to know a secret
when I write a poem and it's perfect
i dont share it
i bury it 
deep inside of me 
where no one else can see
i mean its perfect
not like this shift 
it's elegant, poignant, 
simplistic, bueatful 
trucking perfect
its not erotic 
but i read it
mentally masterbate to it 
a euphoric chorus 
straight form thesaurus
its just that great
im not being egotistical 
if read, it would become universal 
a meter tethered in clasical measure 
a rythmic flow
with many metaphoric undertows
an iconic harmonic tonic 
to make you feel like an embryonic hedonic youth 
im not being napoleonic
its an actual truth 
factually accurate
high in heaven
it produced a tear in the eye of god
who proclaimed 
not a single flaw
not a single flaw 
and he only saw what i wrote
well, because hes god 
me being me i like to tease 
allow me to be inclined to share a few lines 
blow your mind 
redefine your collective defective perspective
realign your ineffective respective connective tisue

"all my cows milk is homogenized 
all my crows are well organized
all my sheep like to stare and creep 
like to stare and creep"

but you'll never see 
the rest of my secret poetry 
that only exsist inside of me 
cows will always moo
crows will always ka kah 
sheep will always go baah baah baah 
and the perfect elagance 
of my literary inteligence 
will die with me 
never being seen 
qouted, memorised or plagerized 
as i will say with my last gasp 
the next line being twice my last
all you super-duper-soupers can kiss my ***


ok all you super-duper-soupers have been slammed. if you want to slam me back just a few things. make it funny. make it a little nonsensical and definitly make it over the top
and if you do slam me back send me a soup mail or leave a comment so i can go read your slam. 

Copyright © Nathan D. | Year Posted 2015

Gold Fever

Gold Fever 

History will not record the bloated weight
Of this pious and bigoted race 
Or count the fat and flaccid wealth
Of religions idolatry

Those pages have been scrubbed clean
By prosperous forgivingness 
And the cruelty of established political dominion
Will not tally the bodies of the oppressed

To them, faith and belief are merely a weapon
A system of abusive control 
And a means of power continuation
A dictatorial right to rule the population

History will not record the inheritance of opinion
But lay blind at the doors of massacre
The Aztec, The Aborigine, The North American Indian, The African Negro, 
Pray in silence to The Church

Centuries written in blood and torture
For a message of verbiage and usage
Extracted and leeched from the poor and uneducated
Created the western dream

The long night of the witch hunt is not over
The Inquisition has saved us
With fake blood and wooden crosses
This elite of moral perspective shall save us all

We have paid the price in conscience
Superiority managed by white skinned indifference
Holy mother church has welcomed all
All into its iron embrace of slack jawed wonder

And what more despicable rule can there be
Than to dictate ones own spiritual journey
Spouted by the rote of political expediency
And the promise of heaven

Ingrained now this so called Christian ethic
And so much of the truth left distorted
Forgotten now are the ancient mystical secrets
Which united mankind to understanding

Idol of gold and crucifixion
Of cathedral and stained glass objectification
Gilt and holy water of sumptuous ritual
Of silken pope and luxurious self righteous invention

An aberration of human faith and belief
An unrepentant destroyer of “ Loves ” dream 
The curse of The Christ as you continue to translate
The Word

And where the paupers fist crunches the dirt
Where dried and parched lips pray for rain
Where the desperate cry for a reason echoes
Where blood flows in feted anger
Where children scream in fear
Where hunger and despair debase and demean 
Where there is no light
And in the dark only pain

If you wish to care for the souls of mankind
Preacher
It is there with them
There
Is where you should be

Copyright © colin mitchell williams | Year Posted 2008

God's Kind of Poetry

I formed the poet to be my clay pen
To dance on the pin tip of my understanding
I delight in words
All things came into existance through my words
The planets
The stars
The moon
The sun
The universes beyond what you can see
They are tethered by my imagination
I am a God of order
I delight in repetition
My ways are perfect
What you see a chaos, fits perfectly into my plans
I occupy all the spaces
I exist within each breath
My energy flows from beginning to end and back again
I allow you to glimpse my shadow 
For my full Glory would consume your human form
I am beyond your comprehension
Yet I wish you to know me
Ponder me
Come into my loving arms
My words are written on ancient scrolls
Each verse contains my essence
My invitation to a wondorous feast
Taste the succulence of my bounty
The flavours my affection
My consummate Love
Do not be concerned with the temporary
Trust in my grace
For I know all your needs
This world will one day disappear 
Paradise will reside under your feet
I will be your completion 
Dancing will have new meaning
Rivers will sparkle like diamonds
The skies will no longer need the sun
For I will be your light
We will walk through a new Jerusalem
Streets of gold
Buildings encrusted in precious gems
Trees will be laden with fruit
No hunger
No tears
My children will know freedom
Strength will course through veins
Angels will walk in their midsts
Age will no longer be their enemy
Death will be a forgotten memory
For I am God
My words
My poetry
They can be your reality
Make use of your free will
I am bound by my own promises
You must choose my path
Be a vessel of my Love
You my clay pen
Can flow
With golden ink



For this contest I am asked to write from the perspective of God.
It is an insurmountable task for one as limited as myself. I humbly
submit this attempt and pray that it honors my heavenly Father.

Copyright © Richard Lamoureux | Year Posted 2014

Gaining Perspective

Looking at the vast azure sky, one can't help, but feel small;
as crowds of ants run in terror of cathedral-sized Converse.
I left sugar cubes next to their hill, feeling purposefully big.

Copyright © Timothy Hicks | Year Posted 2015