Best Preceding Poems
A transitory phenomenon, a grand adulation of opulent desire,
Seeking mirth of heaven on earth, passions ablaze ignite fire,
A destination sought after; pleasure is aim of its cherished theme,
Yet, it ends in vexation and vanity~ it is an illusion, not a dream.
Ephemeral as fog of dawn, as fleeting rainbow on fuchsia arc,
As flirtatious infatuation of sunset~ a splendor before dark,
A fantasy preceding a nightmare~ the reign of pleasure is short;
Alike amber hopes of morn, stygian clouds shroud and thwart.
Follies seeking triumphs eternal, are defeated as failings vain,
Juxta-positioning on feelings of joy, anguish blaring of pain,
Resembling a lunar cycle~ phases of life that wax and wane,
Rising with ambitions of full moon, yet, retreating in disdain.
Authentic is goodwill of divine, presiding over grandeur of life,
Counterfeit are feelings of joy that detour into angst of strife;
Permanent is the flame of heart, lit with sapient, inner light,
Vacuous is search for spurious delight, futile is its phony plight.
Transient pleasure does not yield, if happiness is ultimate goal,
Pursuits mundane, ordinary, fail to satiate enlightened soul;
Contentment can be achieved, despite the ecstasy vanity stole,
In lasting inner peace and harmony, aspirations virtuous extol.
I witness you fading away,
The winds blow frantically
They are against us, as all are
Little fire, rise in my cupped hands
Be it my life I shield from the elements so unfeeling?
Little fire, brighten as I feed you
This moisture receding from my pores must cease
Before I drown this diminishing beauty
I gasp,
Surprised at the howls and retorts of this icy tempest
Nature’s exhalations mean to end what must naturally end
My hands shake
Little fire—my life!
—I must keep you alive!
Grow against all odds
Against the screaming whirlpools of bluster
Against the torrential tears that mean to overcome you
Against the ashes that can only watch the desolation around you,
As you search for more fuel to masticate
My flesh is no treasure to me,
So lick me deep, my flame
Devour these hands that shield you
Rise hastily, as you burn
Ascending up my arms,
Lighting every goosebump, shriveling every hair
Rise till I am all aflame in this wilderness
Boil and evaporate every murderous tear—
The fluids of sorrow that so pulverize purpose
Eat through every sinew, and every tissue,
Every muscle and every bone that has grown
For this moment and this moment only
I give you every piece of me, little fire!
So that my spirit, finally free, shall rise to the heavens
Past the shrieking winds, preceding through the jeers of thunder
I give you my all, blessed fire!
So that these eyes may witness every storm die
And I may laugh at their futility!
Medusa’s Love
Medusa is a hideous and vile creature of Grecian yore.
Medusa, once a high priestess in the Temple of Athena,
Suffered Athena’s unforgiving wrath for violating her
Sacred temple as she and Lord Poseidon made love there.
Medusa’s Love entices all of her naive human victims,
Up to that special mesmerizing moment of her icy shock,
As they end up unwittingly gazing into her evil, hellish
Eyes and their bodies harden and turn to stone forever.
You can never trust those Gods who relish in making
The plight of mortal man more challenging on Earth.
Once a perfect paragon of radiant female pulchritude,
Athena transformed Medusa into this mythic monster.
As if this life isn’t frightening enough, with the advent
Of Halloween Eve and the cold, dark nights preceding it;
Medusa’s restless spirit as this grotesque Gorgon can be
Conjured from her lair at the entrance to the Underworld.
From the hissing and viperous serpents adorning her head,
To the ever-present shaking death rattle of her reptilian tail;
Medusa’s sneering and unholy visage paralyzes her victims
As her fiery and demonic eyes bring them a stone-cold death!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved
(October 1, 2015) (Unrhymed Quatrain)
insomnia night after night
restlessness tense & disturbed
lying awake the mind modifies
mutates
preceding delusional dreams
consciousness remains alert
creative and mindful words emerge
falling like puzzle pieces
perfectly clear
brain on the ball
title transparent
insomnia creates
another verse
and so it continues.. imagination
inspired though sleepless despair
bedside lamps beam gentle glow
ingenious words emerge and flow
finally...
morning light sets insomniacs free
another poem is shaped
fashioned—complete
elated euphoria
compulsive fixation
communicating
another verse
Copyright-- Kim van Breda
Once, I’d stood beside a man
Who, with heart and soul o’erwrought,
Silently searched for answers, but answers found him not.
His sister recently had passed from Earthly life to next,
And left her brother standing, filled with emptiness.
We stood within a classroom, throbbing with life and youthful confidence,
Listening to strangers speak of futures in terms of choice and providence.
When above the din of music and deafening teenaged discourse,
I thought I heard his spirit cry
“What choices do we truly have-when comes the time to die?”
How? and why? His queries all began
Echoing voices of a preceding time, to which my mind sped swiftly in reverse
To that moment when I’d stood besides another man,
Who, with sighing, held his sister in his thoughts, and in
Speechlessness did he with her converse,
Wondering, each, about his dying.
We’d stood within a bustling airport crowd,
Listening with half-ears to strangers chatting,
With boisterous busy-ness about their day’s importance.
While I, in their unawareness, sought a way to say goodbye
To a man whose life linked mine; by merit of our birth and love.
Fore’er, our hearts entwined.
I looked then to my brother’s face and thought
How does one rout this wretched misery?
Where does one turn to quell the pain?
What choices do I really have to make my loved one well and whole again?
From all cancerous affiliations, a remedy we then sought.
So now a brother and a sister stood, reflecting upon what went before.
From science and from God, we asked from both a comfort and a cure.
My friend, the questions asked by you
Were those the same by me,
And though we asked the questions,
The answers to the whys and hows
Unheeded they did go
Though in their stead One Truth was given-
It is not in the dying that choices can be made,
But in the way we do our living.
"We have more ability than willpower, and it is often an excuse to ourselves that we imagine that things are impossible". Francois de La Rochefoucauld
A fresh year is upon us, and the counter is ticking,
I carry out my recent resolutions for year-picking.
Self-discipline or staying in touch with family.
The family lives in the eternal heart, happily.
I will strain harder to retain my resolution,
to improve our planet for peace and evolution.
Faint waves of grace may clump a long way,
Conjure us a stable place and restrain evil at bay.
I wish to improve my family bonds this year,
They bestow concord, spirit, and a loving ear.
This year, I ought to transmute what I say,
Misunderstood words often ruin my day.
I'd aped to yield up even minor desires this year,
for they rarely come true and only wreak fear.
I wish to savor each moment with awareness.
Thoughtfully, I wish to increase my happiness.
The nonce ticking down to 2023 and midnight,
The preceding year viewed so much plight.
If I pick one resolution, it will be to be positive.
My cup half full stars glitter brighter, evocative.
No more premature sleepless nights are due,
Worry over the obnoxious, resentful few.
Learning to be grateful a million times over,
sharing prosperity with loads of delight sower.
My New Year's resolution was revealed in the past,
I hope that the year twenty-two will be our last.
I hope that the huge ball will achieve something,
It crushes the epidemic and the anguish it brings.
Written: November 26, 2022
Resolutions for 2023 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Anoucheka Gangabissoon
I HEAR GOD
I hear the raucous scolding of the jay
as the neighbor's cat wanders into our yard –
and I hear God
I hear the delightful squeals of children in the playground
spinning furiously on the merry-go-round –
and I hear God
I hear the rumble of thunder
preceding the approaching summer shower –
and I hear God
I listen as the raindrops
play a staccato on the window pane –
and I hear God
I sit and listen after the rain has passed,
and hear the gentle sighing of the wind in the pines –
and I hear God
I walk on the seashore late in the evening
and hear the soothing splash of the waves
as they break ceaselessly on the the beach –
and I hear God
I hear the soft, rhythmic sounds of my wife's breathing
as she lies sleeping next to me –
and I hear God
I hear the words of a much loved hymn
being sung by the choir –
and I hear God
I hear the still small voice
whispering words of love and encouragement in my heart –
and I hear God
God is all around us – Do you hear Him?
He Weeps
By Dane Smith-Johnsen
Holiness harnessed haughtiness.
Heaven's honor hallows humans.
Heavenly hopes happily hail.
Enemies, earnestly enchant.
Endless errors evoke evil.
Exhilaration empowers.
Wait with God while wild wiles weaken.
Whisk away wrath and wretchedness.
Weep whenever wonder withers.
Enemies endeavor evil.
Empathy erases errors.
Exalted ethos enlivens
Endure. Esteem eternity.
Enjoy ecstasy endlessly.
Exalt essence everlasting.
Prideful prancing produces pain.
Particularly preceding
Pretentiousness pomposity.
Sagacity seeks soul's sagas.
Subliminal soothing sojourns.
Sweetest souls’ salvation survives.
***AND NOW GOD BRINGS TO YOU… ***
Ladies and Gentlemen!
Through the auspices of
Our Glorious God’s
Creation Company…
Traveling the infinite of Love…
Across the heavens, then
Through our atmosphere, and,
With His eternal nearness to
The Earth’s moving horizons ~
In His wanting to reach
Every bedroom
Door and window with His Light…
All rise, please, as
The New Day
Now Presents to you:
The Sun!
See how
She first appears with a single, flaming peek
Out from beneath
The opaque black curtain of night,
Which stirs us to wake from
The forgettable dreams of dead sleep.
The fanfare of trees,*
which grows and breathes,
just beyond my window,
Now tunes up to accompany
Sun’s early swim up the sky,
Their punctuating notes, their leaves
swishing and flittering
In time with whistling breezes to
Signal
Sun has begun
Her welcomed performance —
Quite delighting our eyes
With her dazzling, ornate, orange dress.
There are exclaiming cheers heard
from Mother Nature’s
“Sold-out” audience — that color-lush
Everywhere around,
Holding hope for this re-rebirth of
A new day, preceding all
The days of discovery still to come.
————————————————
** Note: “fanfare” of trees —
SO, For the trees outside my window, it is not a “group, border, array, cluster, grove, mass, or forest.” Since I needed to describe and define with a NEW adjective, Writer’s License was used - after research — i coin the trees with whom I interac as a “fanfare” of trees, meaning essentially, an ‘addition’ or enhancement to a specified principal thing, which adds value.
Written with concern for world’s areas
surfering severe drought. Prayers going
Up for your relief & all peoples to work on the global environmental crisis.
(c) sally young eslinger 1012/22
Autumn afterglow
Amazed at autumn's splendour
maple leaves rest in grandeur,
It's a stunning morning twilight
compliments the garden vividly bright,
Yellow and brown, winds sway
Crushing sound of crispy walkway,
I sit on bench after brisk walk
as friends gather for little talk,
Gracefully the preceding exfoliate
so abreast the boscage rejuvenate,
Green mellowed into colours of fall
Picturesque beauty takes the stall,
Outsets in daylight saving tempo,
Mesmerising autumn afterglow.
Written Nov 6, 2018
Sponsor- Kim Rodrigues
Unwanted visitor knocks at the door
Unwilling my feet that pace the floor
Wanting but not finding the patience of the brave
Peeking around surroundings for what would save
A ghost is still living in a haunted house
The heart slowly answers the would be shout
My after life still fears the nearing calls
Afraid of the souls quite possible fall
Why should I fear my memory ask?
When life and living have completed task
Where shall I wonder after the fall?
Why am I worried when I answered the call
Why wonder the fears that creep
When the lose of this body a new soul seeks
Why wait any longer in this defiled self
When newness awaits it’s promised health
Worry not, says the preceding crowd
Seek not worries that are very loud
Accept the calling coming from the clouds
The narrow path that souls have paved
Parents and grands where temples stayed
Tempt not the life that was laid
Who was the first before you raised
So maybe you wont see the End of Days
Suffer just a little and let God be praised
*Another poem from 2009, as "A Leash-Led Life". A meditation on future glory.
Up on high did I exist,
Though in what form I know not;
It is not mine to remember,
And I shall never return to the way it was.
Heaven, earth, then heaven,
The mystery of sacred reality,
I live in between,
Experiencing tastes of two places that mankind faces,
One of which I shall never be.
What is my life then now,
When encouraged to set my mind above?
I do not recall from whence I came,
So I trust in where I shall be.
I perceive not this realm -
And does it then exist?
Yes, it must, though not just yet,
At least not according to time.
But future divine,
When the Lord will still time
And a space will be placed,
where we'll dine in that finest design.
Still, now do I wonder, now do I fear,
Now do I ponder the river held dear,
And the tree with the fruits of the twelve changing winds -
Oh! I could be crawling, or skipping, or flying therein.
As the Son will be sun, the night will never come,
Nor the moon, nor the sorrow preceding tomorrow.
For the days will be ways that we gaze at His face,
And His legs that were maimed, and His wrists, that were kissed (by the Father).
So I long to see, as I dearly draw near it,
Forever to be, as He's life to my needs,
Now on earth, on my knees,
I asking please, Holy, breathe.
Imperfect soul,
I am and have always been
Constantly in front of me
Is temptation preceding sin
And I’ve made mistakes
That I always apologize for
But I’m constantly in battle
My mind and flesh at war
Like Paul, ‘I wish to do what is right
But what is bad is present with me’
Enslaved to sin’s law, in bondage
On my own, I can’t break free
I stand in amazement
At how easily I lose control
Each time I fall back
I step further away from the goal
In front of others, I smile
Disguising my shame and sorrow
But in the darkness, I cry all alone
Waiting for when there’s no tomorrow
There are things I lament about
That no one could ever know
The painful things that cut the deepest
I hold onto, never to let go
And at night when I lay my head down
I beg for mercy that I’ll never accept,
Love that I’m so undeserving of,
And help to keep the promises I never kept
As we did the month preceding
This the next department meeting
Time and time without a reason
To be present or to listen
For there’s nothing on the floor
Beneath us different than before
It was the last time that we met
As everybody knows and yet
Again we sit around the table
Top our seats but still unable
To understand why we should read
Another memo from the Dean
Of students who have never met ‘em
Or her or maybe better, them
For whom the Chair is working under
Standing in the room, we wonder
How’d it ever get to this
Friday morning’s foolishness
Of faculty who should know better
Than to debate what doesn’t matter
That they’ll only misconstrue
The points they’re missing when they do
Interrupt each other speaking
Words better spent in classrooms teaching
Would it gladden your heart to know God loved a poem
You wrote; that your thought lends its grace to the music He hears,
Though you doubt He's aware of your joy or your tears!
Would you hide if you could that you're naked as Adam,
As Eve was in Garden of Eden, preceding their Fall?
Do you dream of a day you might once hear His call
When He lives for your heart's drum, taps fingers to waves
Known to penetrate jungle! Magnetical flux lines
Trap curtains of light at your poles He supplies for the warp.
Its threads hang from the sky like the strings of a harp
As our woof barks the colors that dance from loom's sidelines.
Are poets more flavored when God tastes us all in the end?
Do our works or our faith count toward Sainthood, my friend?
Rest in faith, live in certainty! 'Blood of Christ' saves!
Long Tooth
June 19th of 2019