Best Prostrated Poems


Sarina

Howls my heart in silence, a hymn of dispossession, 
  Prostrated at your dusky feet, defined inadequate 
And close my eyes in fruitless shame, despising their transgression, 
  Blind-sided by your beauty, horsewhipped desolate. 
The chestnut lustre of your hair has lacquered my perception, 
  Devastated by your pecan lips, sullenly un-kissed, 
I shrink like flambéed cellophane, contract with cold deception, 
  Yet cannot face the love within, the love that you have missed. 
What are you that drive my spectral dreams, imagination? 
  Who are you that sculpt my heart and steal my breath? 
That stirs the loins and fires my love with tortured aspiration, 
  At once you are both promised life and predetermined death...
© Tony Bush  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: prostrated, death, love, passion, heart,
Form: Verse

Thirst

Prostrated to such vastness,
unable to speak
I turned away
leaving fear standing
where I had come,
and the immense river entered
into those boundaries I had raised.

I watched the pale colors
wash away and disappear
as the water moved and swelled
and flooded all that was,
then the bells rang
the world awoke
with its insatiable thirst
that makes all beings irreparably mad.

I retraced my self back
to the perspiring
street and walked across
into the shade,
to disappear unnoticed
and silence became deep
with frightening familiarity.

I considered it to be just like
an abandoned mobile home
in Louisiana, where everything was left
as it was, to rot, to be dispersed
to bury a forsaken giggling past.

Wasn’t that a recurrence?
It’s funny how fallen into the trap,
I cut those knots and
all along let the blood drip 
to mark the narrow path
till dusk took over
and none was there 
for others to be seen.

I had eaten food
that makes your hunger grow,
and felt as I wore
a dress sown by death itself.
Along the filthy canal
a putrescent smell arose
and the penumbra made the gardens shine.

...That was an ordinary
evening on the Ganges’ shore
where I had brought my tiny lamp
to see the universe.
Categories: prostrated, beauty, journey,
Form: Free verse

A Mother's Worst Nightmare

a cold stone bears his name
grief pours onto his green plot
prostrated mom shouts "why?"
Categories: prostrated, bereavement, death, grave, grief,
Form: Senryu

Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry


Chaos Mind

Centuries of lies, a hollow myth
Perpetuated by charlatans with great ceremony
The Greatest Show, the living bread
The crowd sustained and animated by necromancy
The will is fused, the body dismembered and reassembled
Eager dehumanization, they tread the path
An ancient instinct, hereditary chains
Lift the chalice, a cannibal rite
Commit the body to the fires
They burn all sin to purest white
Like bones they glisten in the sun

The heart is woman, a harlot's course
Chaos bound to ritual law
A book to strangle, the human vine
Withered fruit, none shall eat
A brittle parody of True God's design
The Word of sufferance, spread like plague
Prostrated before your False God
An empty gesture before his impassive gaze
Power channels, below the surface
Christian mind cannot detect
Stabbing empty, fever pitch
Turn the blade, release is now.
Categories: prostrated, corruption, dark, death, evil,
Form: Free verse

Love You Daughter

A story to tell
A story that never been told,
Not new though, neither old,
A bout treasure of pure Gold,
Nicely kept, beautifully hold,
Wrapped in a blessed shroud,
Not to be found by digging!
Only by prayers to the Lord.
*****
The old man is determined,
But, no signs yet, no traces,
Distressed, wet and cold,
He didn’t stop, refrain or hold,
Hope kept him firm and bold,
Hope will lead him to his bond.
*****
One day he struck luck!
He struck the concealed, hidden gold,
He shouted… O’ my generous Lord,
It is my girl; it is my soul, my fond,
O’ Goodness,
She is glittering more than Gold,
With happiness inside,
He prostrated to God and bowed.
Categories: prostrated, family, fantasy, father daughter,
Form: ABC

Ibrahim Pt. 2

You must be smirking to yourself right now, beautiful boy 
Must be gloating, rubbing your evil palms together, 
A smug smile tweaking the edges of your divine lips...
You must be loving the fact that I came crawling back to you – 
That, gluttonous for more punishment, I returned, 
Crawling toward you out of the pallid heat like a kicked dog 
Belly dragging on the ground, tail between my legs 
A smile on my face, the white flag of submission – 
Begging you silently to forgive me for thrusting you aside before, 
For ignoring your proclamation of love etched in black type 
How impersonal phone messages can be...
And you know what - I still don’t believe it now, 
But what the heck, I came back anyway 
Like a fawning supplicant I prostrated myself at your feet, 
Laying my ego at your mercy and hoping you wouldn’t crush it 
Wouldn’t just glance at me with those liquid eyes and smile…
And then just walk away… 
But thank God you didn’t 
You held my hand, and hypnotized me with that face, that gaze 
And I found myself falling into your trap willingly 
For the second time but probably not for the last…
And so here we are again, in your ethereal limbo, 
My heart poised on the edge of a knife, liable to get split open 
Or just broken gently to pieces between your seductive fingertips 
You know just how to murder me, deliciously, 
You know how to make the sharpest pain feel like the greatest pleasure 
And so I am addicted to you, and like a junkie I must have my fix 
I must have my fill of you…before my time runs out
So come back to me beautiful and this time don’t leave when I push you away 
Because you know for a fact that I don’t mean what I say…
Categories: prostrated, lovebeautiful, me, time, beautiful,
Form: Free verse


The Story of Adam and Eve In Holy Quran Part2

Who is Satan?

Satan is a creature from the world of the Jinn.  The Jinn are a creation of God made from fire.  They are separate and different from both the Angels and mankind; however, like mankind, they possess the power of reason and can choose between good and evil.  The Jinn existed before the creation of Adam[1]  and Satan was the most righteous among them, so much so that he was elevated to a high position amongst the Angels.


“The Angels prostrated themselves all of them together.  Except Satan, he refused to be among the prostrators.  God said: ‘O Satan! What is your reason for not being among the prostrators?  ‘Satan said: ‘I am not the one to prostrate myself to a human being, whom You created from sounding clay of altered black smooth mud.’  God said: ‘Then get out from Here for verily you are an outcast or cursed one.  Verily the curse shall be upon you till the Day of Resurrection.’” (Quran 15:30-35)


The Role of Satan

Satan was there in the Paradise of Adam and Eve and his vow was to misguide and deceive them and their descendents.  Satan said: “…surely I will sit in wait against them (human beings) on Your Straight Path.  Then I will come to them from before them and behind them, from their right and from their left…” (Quran 7:16-17) 

Satan did not say to Adam and Eve “go eat from that tree” nor did he out rightly tell them to disobey God.  He whispered into their hearts and planted disquieting thoughts and desires.  Satan said to Adam and Eve, “...Your Lord did not forbid you this tree save that you should become Angels or become of the immortals.” (Quran 7:20)

 Their minds became filled with thoughts of the tree, and one day they decided to eat from it.  Adam and Eve behaved as all human beings do; they became preoccupied with their own thoughts and the whisperings of Satan and they forgot the warning from God.

It is at this point that the Jewish and Christian traditions differ greatly from Islam.  At no point do the words of God – the Quran, or the traditions and sayings of Prophet Muhammad - indicate that Satan came to Adam and Eve in the form of a snake or serpent.

Islam in no way indicates that Eve was the weaker of the two, or that she tempted Adam to disobey God.  Eating the fruit of the tree was a mistake committed by both Adam and Eve.  They bear equal responsibility. and they asked God for forgiveness.
Categories: prostrated, dedication, faith, religion, god,
Form:

Cicada

I'm one of these billions out there
hallucinating wanting to be happy
we can't get away from it
the sun pulls us out of bed to fight
until the moon knocks us down to dream again
with the success of the crop
daughter's wedding
the new job at work
vacation
a happiness carved by TV
my dog looks at me disconsolately
he knows I don't smile anymore
yesterday a new flu hit me
now on my cell phone
drug advertisements pop up
things seem unreachable
prostrated on the couch
I hear the cicada that lives in the tree next door
she is happy singing all the time
this is an evil thought
but I'm absolutely sure
that if you put a bigger brain in her head
she would be depressed like us.
Categories: prostrated, analogy,
Form: Free verse

Summer At 8pm

The daytime radiation changed the forenoon breeze
And the windows were kept close
Flames hemmed in my room from the furnace terrasse
Brought my afternoon snooze at dispose. 

Abounded myself from my brazier bed and stepped on the het up floor
And outcried mutedly against the cataclysm
Pelted along to take a bath, water pour out perceived to be boiled more
Brought all my desires against summer’s pragmatism. 

The awaited evening was bored by the midday coercion
And the fun fancied by the birds those choir
Slowly by the virtues of lyricism, windows were open
Versed the liaison where the vanity fluxed by the twilight zephyr.

Eased myself from my midday muted hollers and trod on the stairs to the terrace
And felt the birds nested as the breeze became soother
Prostrated along to feel the charm, stars twinkled by their self-reliance 
Brought all my desires worthy at 8pm with summer’s be after. 

The quiesce voice of the leisurely leaves by the solacing breeze
And the dim rays that softened the ambiance
Noetically by the oath of imagery shadows that molded by my ease
Comeuped with this summer rhyme at 8pm by my essence.
Categories: prostrated, happiness, imagination, nature, seasons
Form: Rhyme

Death Took Toll On My Father

He was reclining cold and motionless 
Silence reigned as it signalled a torment
I prostrated and remained quiet, wordless
My mother's elegy evoked lament. 
As the days passed, he started deforming
Lifeless body lay hardened but mounted,
To the neighbours gathered, went informing
Of the subtlety of very life, bewitched. 

Kinsfolk followed you till crematorium
With prayers of praise in warm condolence 
Soul shall find solace with honorarium 
Through your religious deeds in governance
As the bodily disappearance calls, 
Just flash of fiery ignition that brawls.




©?????Khachab Dorji????
Categories: prostrated, 10th grade, 11th grade,
Form: Sonnet

A Counsel House

A counsel house 
	
        12.45pm
	Head Office?
	It's in Dover,
	Well that's depressing in itself!
	Smiley faces and OMG's to the fore.
	A clinical appearance in reception,
	Is that depressing in its own way?
	Clinical I mean.
	Women move about,
	Black and white;
	A grey area perhaps?
	Fifteen minutes early
	Old school values of course are
	Never too late.
	Time for a hygiene check,
	Prostrated naturally
	Two flights up.
	Thank goodness I'm upwardly mobile!
	Sitting in a tight corner gives optimum insight,
	Tendrils of cuppa-soup invade my senses.
	"Tea or coffee?"
	Politely refused whist I consider up-chucking.
	Mushroom and croûtons have that affect
	While waiting on counsel at lunchtime.
	As in the garden of Eden, Adam,
	The first man I've seen,
	Clipboard and sandwiches in hand
	Heads for the exit.
	Down-town for lunch with Eve perchance!
	More smiley faces and OMG's galore.
	Old school values shiver.
	A strange world to work in.
	Magnolia prevails,
	The heavens are white above
	Whilst Edwardian Ogee draws a line 
	On a stone grey bottom.
	Somehow time has stood still.
	The silent office clock strikes one,
	So my Gucci is four minutes fast
	Typical of the Italians,
	Over wound and highly sprung.
	An invitation from Linda
	Who looks human, serene,
	To follow her down to the basement.
	Passing the 'Blue Room',
	Fenshui driven?
	Hai!
	I see the signs to "Mind your Head!"
	So, body a-limbo, it's all down hill
	To a mediaeval chamber where who knows
	What torture awaits?
© Tim Riding  Create an image from this poem.
Categories: prostrated, anxiety, depression, funny,
Form: Free verse

Hell In a Handmaiden Basket

He hath become religious of late
prostrated before the virgin Mary
Cornflower blues blown to wild violets
and thin lines puckering in concentration

Prayers spilling in loud sputters from his mouth
She hath listened a time or two
to testimonies led by callused hands
Run lukewarm holy water upon him

Coaxing gentle promises from cold maidens
candlelight vigils by the goose feather altar
Ordered 10 Hail Marys, and 5 Our fathers
and she bled for both of their sins
Categories: prostrated, love, lust,
Form: Free verse

-that Place That Should Not Be-(Part 2)

(The Heart of the Young King)

and I remembered how that young King Josiah
went out to those places where the previous kings of Judah
had allowed and promoted the raising of idols
and other sorts of abominable worship
Having taken place from the time of 
Solomon, son of David.
By this,
over the years,
the people of the One True God
were willingly led astray
and prostrated their hearts
before those things
which exalted themselves against God
and provoked Him.

Now,
centuries later,
Young Josiah in His eighth year
began to seek the Lord
and do that which was right
so that by his eighteenth year,
with a zealous heart,
he began to have removed from all Israel and Judah
all manner of abominations from out of the land
before the Lord His God
and return the hearts of his people
back to the Lord their God
(as the returning of the wayward sheep of God's pasture)
and times of rejoicing.
Categories: prostrated, allegory, devotion, faith, inspirational,
Form: Free verse

Tired

I’m a man whose tired and worn
Empty and dead on my feet,
Petered out, played out, pooped and torn
Burn out, broke down and beat.
Drowsy, droopy, drooping drained
Dog tired, done in, done for,
Exasperated, enervated empty faint
Overtaxed, overworked and bored

Sick of, sleepy, spent and stale
Haggard, run down, all in
Consumed, collapsing, asleep, annoyed
Exhausted, bygone and barren
Ramshackle, rickety, run-down and frail
Bedraggled, broken-down and creaky
Threadbare, tottering, tired and used
Feeble, fragile and flimsy

Out of shape, out of gas,  done in and feeble
Gone to seed, soft,  incapacitated
Listless, washed out, weakened, on the ropes
Undermined, fatigued, prostrated.
Discontented, dissatisfied, tacky and dull
Jaded, glum and gloomy
Sick and tired, up to here, driveling, drab
Sated, down and weary
Befuddled, unsteady, wobbly and faint
Pallid, pale and lean
Stupefied, staggering, slaphappy, subdued
Oh damn I got to go pee.
Categories: prostrated, satire, silly, words,
Form: Free verse

Buried Alive

Buried Alive, 2010
V. Ortiz Vazquez


House play with a neighbor friend
Older than I is he, yet not old enough
Husband and wife, house wife
Bread winner comes home
Home, field between houses
Time for bed, naked from the waist down I lay
Caught, I’m to blame
Shamed with no explanation
I should have known better
Older than I is he, yet not old enough

Locked inside, exposed to me
High schooler, teenager; younger I am
Adult act becomes mine
Young I am, no stranger is he
Salty, whitish, I don’t understand
Shamefully I lurk around, searching without understanding
Finding similar, no teenager an adult

No teenager is he, still young I am
Sled to the side, incognito a touch
Finger nail’s cut
An excitement unforeseen
Unexplored essence exposed to me by his touch
Tragedy

Blamed, shamed, grounded
Who is to blame?
Trinity: him, you, they
Should have known better, Female I am
One forgotten, hazy memories, not even his name
Second not seen for years, learned of recent lost—grandpa dies
The other, seen by occasional visits
Declining health, prostrated to a wheelchair
Life’s move, checked yet not checkmate	

Here I stand, age 33
Foggy days, shatter pieces
Lights out
Checkmate since childhood
Life cut short
Living without breathing
World’s brightness taken away
Shifted to black and white
Muted
Silence my home
Distance my protection
Youngster, buried alive
Categories: prostrated, childhoodold, old,
Form: Free verse
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