Best Pursuers Poems
Hoof beats...palpitate and pound,
A sudden rush...rapidly...rushes by.
Leaving overturned leaves in a swirling...whirl.
Pursuers...persistently follow the tainted...trail.
A Magnesian...mare crosses his mind,
A debt of dreadful...death woefully bestowed.
Death...the debt to breed on forbidden lands.
Centaurus relentlessly...races his hurtles.
Leaving his luscious...love behind.
He’s a Chiron...Centaur at heart,
A masculine...defined...toned...torso,
Merged at the waist of a horse wither,
Where a horse's neck should...solely be.
Being chased for besetting and breeding,
A pallid moon illuminates a fast paced night.
With a timid...terrified look over his shoulder,
A fearless heart...fears the approaching masses.
He not only reaches the edge of Magnesia,
But the edge of a cavernous...cliff.
Caught...trapped...lodged between two natures
(Half-human...Half-animal)
(His hunters...the bottomless cliff)
Thoughts race his mind...mixed reflections.
Flooded by a montage of frolicking memories.
Of a bond not meant to be...destined to not exist.
A desperate attempt to fight extinction,
To successfully mate with a Magnesian mare.
He searches his soul for strength and with his
muscular arms he quickly unsheathes his weapon,
Raising his Chiron...steel sword in cold...defense.
A fatigued heart...a fierce...fight ensues without fear.
Ferociously...fighting to the death paying his debt.
A Chiron heart slain by a legion of Lapithaeian hate,
For a sole attempt to live...to simply breed again,
On the forbidden lands of Mount Pelion,
He faced...fate with its’ risks of death,
Under a Thessalien sky...illuminated by a pallid moon.
For the one beckoning notion called love.
Categories:
pursuers, fantasy
Form:
Free verse
Just 38 Cents a Day
Throughout history food has been used as a
Weapon of Mass Destruction. The Romans
would pillage and plunder – then burn the
fields of the defeated, punishing all who
survived. The Apache are alleged to have
poisoned the water holes when retreating
through the desert – a form of death by
desert inflicted on the pursuers. Sherman
marched to the sea punishing all to break
the will of the beaten confederacy.
Today, trucks stand idle, food supplies
rot in the heat at checkpoints that keep
those in the “ghettoes” confined and
dying. Children and the elderly scavenge
through dumpsters for simple sustenance
as armed “thugs” loot and destroy the
“humanitarian” aid denied them.
We preach “mindfulness” as we plow crops
under to satisfy the calculus of a subsidy,
divert rivers to irrigate golf courses,
preach nutritional values to the malnourished,
gasp at the news footage of starving children
as we prepare “gourmet meals” for our pets.
Our consciousness only aches when WE
are hungry and is soothed when WE are
sated by the saturated fat of a fantasy
wherein the solution can be purchased -
for just 38 cents a day.
John G. Lawless
7/1/2015
submitted to – Food Can’t Live with it can’t live without it – poetry contest
sponsor – Debbie Guzzi
Categories:
pursuers, food, slam, society,
Form:
Free verse
Women
A point of view
They – flowers of diverse, exquisite, exotic, mysterious beauty –
are beauties that are meant to feed the eyes of man,
are beauties that are meant to stimulate the minds of man,
are beauties that are meant to set fires in the hearts of man,
are beauties that are meant to give wings to the spirit of man,
are beauties that are meant to be the resting places for the souls of man.
Women
Another point of view
They have become the thorns upon the stems of their rose self.
They have become the thistles that protect their flower self.
They have become the poisonous plants that kill pursuers.
They have become the weeds that strangle, that over run their beauty.
They have become the assassinators killing all that nourishes compassion
They have become the destroyers of passion, of love, of life, of the spirit.
They have become the controllers, men – responsible – has not evolved.
They have become the conductor, as man is not fast enough to keep up or get past.
B. J. “A” 2
December 29th 2006
Categories:
pursuers, women,
Form:
Free verse
Complete Dependence
“God, the Master, The Holy of Israel, has this solemn counsel: "Your salvation requires you to turn back to me and stop your silly efforts to save yourselves. Your strength will come from settling down in complete dependence on me— The very thing you've been unwilling to do. You've said, 'Nothing doing! We'll rush off on horseback!' You'll rush off, all right! Just not far enough! You've said, 'We'll ride off on fast horses!' Do you think your pursuers ride old nags? Think again: A thousand of you will scatter before one attacker. Before a mere five you'll all run off. There'll be nothing left of you— a flagpole on a hill with no flag, a signpost on a roadside with the sign torn off." Isa 30:15-17 The Message
There are many who profess to serve God,
But rely on their own efforts to obey,
To form a right character
And secure salvation in their own way.
There’s no deep love of Christ in their hearts,
But they perform Christian duties anyway,
Thinking that by doing so they’ll gain heaven,
Because they’ve done the same always.
When Christ dwells in the heart
The heart is filled with His love;
There’s a joy of communion
With the Savior up above.
Self is forgotten in this communion;
The will of the Lord reigns.
Profession of Christ comes joyfully,
Without any formality or contrains.
Christ is trusted to change the character,
And repentance is sweet;
Pleadings for His work in the heart,
Each sincere soul does entreat.
Prayer and communion come naturally
And a song in the heart does stay,
Regardless of the circumstances,
That for most would dismay.
There’s sincerity of purpose
And upon Christ Complete Dependence.
Obedience comes naturally,
Rather than thoughts of compliance.
There’s no fear of failure
To reach the standards of heaven,
But faith in Christ’s robe of righteousness,
And salvation by Christ alone given.
© Copyright 2012 Maureen LeFanue
www.maureenlefanue.com
Categories:
pursuers, faith, inspirational, heart, heart,
Form:
Rhyme
Messages came thru coded
And the messengers appeared in disguise
Such was their fate as the group of 300
Made Stronghold their place of refuge
Twas all going according to book
But the twisted enemy was all around
One but must pass great hurdles
To attain the prophetic anointing
''Came the Message Thru the prophet gad
Depart ye from the stronghold..
and David's The prophets king salvation
Was to be found in playing lunacy
At them gates of the city..
When his pursuers found him
Angst the Enemy King spoke forth..''
''Did you but call you're Kings counsel
To witness the drooling and doodling of one mad fool
Truly can this idiotic fool writing gibberish upon the city wall
Be the celebrated David, Warrior, anointed of God to be King?''
And in that Biblical Fable I learnt a moral
Don't be judgmental of a book by its cover
Its often gems pass themselves as ordinary stones..
...Roy read me the Ordinance and declaration..
''I assert the declaration of Kirinyaga Free State''
And I believe On matter Europe Catalonia's should be free..
...A KFS PEACE DAY
All Kenyan Forces are Special
We share gifts.. ..JESHI..
Categories:
pursuers, analogy, appreciation, conflict, devotion,
Form:
Narrative
They have carried me to the slaughter house and butchered me mercilessly. They
have believed what they have done is in the name of righteousness. So therefore,
their hearts feel no remorse for my slain soul. Before my execution, they tried to trap
me with lies, maze of deceptions and plots, but Jehovah rescued me. Jehovah
provided a means of escape for me; nevertheless, my pursuers were relentless.
They had plotted, hunt and irradiated. My assassins prevailed - they have
conquered and killed an innocent me. I had tried to show them that I was never an
enemy, but hatred had consumed their hearts, so they murdered me.
Categories:
pursuers, confusion,
Form:
Personification
The Lord is my fortress my tower of Strength
He strengthens my hand for battle
Granting me strength to overcome the enemy
The lord is my refuge he hides my soul
From the sharp arrows of mine pursuers
The Lord is my Rock My strength against foe
When besieged he crushes my enemy
Like a lion on the prowl i face my adversary
For the great Lion resides in Me and I in Him
I shall know no fear
I shall show no pain
I shall yield no ground
For the victory is mine
Even though i waketh the valley of the shadows
I shall fear no evil for you are with me
My sword my staff
My rock my refuge
My fortress my salvation
And I will delight in His presence
All the days of eternity.. As for me
He is Ebeneezer My victory banner
code 254
SELAH
To the director of music
Categories:
pursuers, christian, devotion, jewish, prayer,
Form:
Dramatic Verse
...Burke grabbed Aura and they both ran out,
riding double on his trusty horse.
The word raced quickly through the town,
a posse was formed, as a matter of course.
So Burke pushed his mount, more and more.
They couldn’t go back, despite acts justified,
not when two men, one a sherriff, had died.
So they rode, pursuers hot on their trail,
until they reach a ranch high the peaks.
Burke pulled a gun while Aurelia seized
a new horse, both study and sleek.
The rancher fumed, too angry to speak.
Burke apologized, gave him all his gold,
then sped off again into mountains cold.
Two days passed, the posse drew close,
and both their horses started to flag.
No longer able to outrun their hunters,
Burke mad camp high up in a crag,
where he could shoot safely if they attacked.
The posse appeared in the meadow below,
lead the by the sherriff’s oldest, known as Milo.
“Surrendor now, or we’ll shoot you down!”
They shouted it as they stared to climb.
But before Burke could even open his mouth
the air exploded with shrill, Indian cries.
A horde of Bannocks their arrows let fly!
They swept into the meadow, circling fast.
The posse died quickly, not long could they last.
Burke and Aurelia hid low in the rocks
until the last of the Bannocks had left.
Not much was left of the posse below,
they lay still, and were mostly scalpless.
But one figured crawled amongst the dead.
Burke climbed down, still clutching his gun,
and loomed over the sheriff's bloodied son.
“You won’t believe me, but I’ll say it now,
I acted only out of self-defense.
You’re father and Grisby were gunning for me,
and Grisby was putting his hands on my friend.
There choices brought them to their ends.”
But Milo just snarled, and crawled away,
Burke and Aura sighed, and left him that way.
No one from Tillico ever saw them again,
even when Milo put a bounty of their hides.
Some say they made for themselves new names
and peacefully lived out their lives.
Others said, like most outlaws, they died...
And if you all liked this tale that you just heard,
Tell your friends about me, Bruce Bowden the Third.
Categories:
pursuers, adventure, conflict, history, love,
Form:
Cowboy Poetry
(co written with Linda- Marie Bariana P.E.P.S "Sweetheart"
How richly sings our heritage,
O, that of days gone by.
When strangers first traversed these shores
under that of a foreign sky.
So distant from the lands they knew,
these pursuers of another life.
They came in quest of better days
and an end to their days of strife.
Their hope was not in that of men
and the lands from which they came.
But so to find a fuller life
while their families remained.
At peace with hope and offerings
as new endeavors peaked,
To leave behind those memories
as stability they seeked.
In a land where freedom is the salt
of this, God’s good, green earth,
in recompense of hours spent
in searching for their worth,
Adieu to those familiar shores
that the forefathers had trod,
Onward unto new paths of change
created alone by our Glorious God.
Categories:
pursuers, dedication, faith, family, history,
Form:
Rhyme
If great minds are discovered
And stolen destinies recovered
If mysteries are uncovered
And shady deals neatly covered
Then, it must be in the night
Yes, in the night, when man sleeps
The enemy comes and peeps
He lays problems in heaps
And he gets some for keeps
Seeing they want quick leaps
Real trouble abounds in the night
When the robber puts men in fright
As he, from pursuers take flight
Struggling for the widow’s mite
He diverts the reader’s sight
Still, a time to keep watch
And receive cognitive touch
A time to pray so much
Asides the period in the church
Is in the hours of the night
In the dead of the night
Many activities abound
Conflict of interest is found
But enemies go underground
When believers stand their ground
In the middle of the night
Good men suddenly turn diabolic
Personalities hide in the night’s fabric
Some leave destiny to leak
Keeping watch with a wrong clique
Others remain glued to the bedding
Moving not from their cabin
They remain deaf to all living
Dead, to all forms of acting
Within that period in the night
In the dead of the night
It’s really a free world
Plays upon plays for the lord
And he will never be bored
Though some will bow to his sword
Categories:
pursuers, christian, good night, imagination,
Form:
Rhyme
Acid has become our rain
and oceans with mercury do we stain
dioxin lies beneath our ground
in everything toxic materials be found
E-coli is used to alter genes in food
where recombinant DNA is understood
heavy metals do the population addle
as the health industry lose continuing battle
With the law makers do the inhabitants contend
and a wealthy man can the laws amend
documented information on man's pollution
yet nobody seems to have a solution
Programs that show if man were to die
nature herself would repurify
at 300 years would be the retaking
of only a portion of what mankind is making
Desecration upon desecration upon the land
mankind destroys himself with his own hand
no amount of law can change our ways
our own nature fallen since ancient of days
Scientists who study regeneration
pursue this path with great fascination
they know that the body should heal itself
but understand not sin and it's stealth
Deserts now stand where nature did blossom
the amount of the damage is beyond awesome
ground waters filled with pesticide
about it's effects have governments lied
Asbestos and arsenic and lead just a few
adversely affect the body nothing new
tons upon tons of toxins released to our air
and only for wealth do manufacturers care
Seabirds and mammals die from plastic trash
the production of garbage for making of cash
forest and savannahs are being depleted
in soil degradation are crops being seeded
With love for our earth the concerned have their say
but the pursuers of wealth do get their way
the destroyers of earth with God will clash
but this system of things will Jesus dash
sources Gen. 6:11 Eze.9:1-6 Matt. 6:24
Luke 16:13 Revelation 11:18
reading and study of science
COPYRIGHT © 2010 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Categories:
pursuers, allegory, dedication, devotion, faith,
Form:
Rhyme
Time and Tides
by
W.A.STOFER
We are the Carnies in the world circus, always being asked to improve our act, “Can you change your routine a little?” asks the Ringmaster. “Can you give the audience more of a death defying skit?” so we wholeheartedly agree, and prostitute ourselves to keep the show going. Time is spent day after day until it is now in the past. We reflect on the experiences with ever fading memories. “That was a great time back then!” we say aloud to justify our place in the world. We Know we could have done more, but ran around dancing to the paymasters tune on his broken flute, crying a little inside everyday as we can no longer see our true selves in the mirror. Wind, rain and cold, now pursuers us with a vengeance. We where impervious to this in our youth. Aches and pains plague us as if we owed a debt.
Time ticks by in our denial, “One more day is all I need!” we shout from the darkened room. The show is winding down and we grasp the things we hold dear. We accept the empty hour glass for what it represents, and slouch more and more never looking up to the stars like we used too. History is our sales pitch for the future is for foolish dreamers, experience and errors are our stock in trade. Life is not finite, it does not end it only changes. We move to the next place battle scared and wounded, heavy as the cold dark night with fading emotions. We once used passion as a sword and denial as a shield. We held our herald high, propped up by ego! Rejoice for the great battle we fought against time, but now we seek a post war rest. We all will be someones fading memory as the tides change but it does not matter for you had been there once upon a time, long long ago. A hero in your own space and time!
The End
Categories:
pursuers, age, appreciation, courage, loss,
Form:
Prose Poetry
The others, of course,
are more rabid than I
but less apt to show it.
Whenever I strike,
I never romp off.
I stand under neon,
the wrist that I’ve snatched
tight in my teeth
as I wait with a smile
for the wagon.
As one of the few
wrist-snatchers still
on the streets of Chicago,
I make all of my rounds
in old tennies.
They allow me to dive
for the purse hand,
whack it and sink
my teeth in the wrist
of the free hand,
give a terrier’s yip
then head for the neon
where I duck so my head
can spin on its shoulders
till I am certain
I have no pursuers.
In dreams every night
I see all of the women
whose wrists I have had in my teeth
standing like Statues of Liberty,
shrieking and waving
their stumps like flares.
Every night their screams
carve a frieze of patrol cars
in the middle of the street.
Donal Mahoney
Categories:
pursuers, fear,
Form:
Blank verse
To all pursuers of dreams
Think of your dream as a castle
On this day at this moment
You stand on the parcel of land
On which that castle of yours is to be built
You can choose to stand as long as you would
...and do nothing but wish
Or you can begin by removing a stone
...from where it shouldn’t be
Or drawing a line where you wish to dig
Point is, you must begin
You must start now to do something
For if you don’t do something toward that dream today
Tomorrow it shall still be waiting to be done
It shall face you accursedly for not having done it yesterday
Any hesitation to do the necessary means
The completion of your castle shall have been delayed
By yet another day
...the day you stood wishing... and doing nothing
Ignoring that little that should’ve and must’ve been done
If and before the castle of your dreams
...is to stand boldly in the air
...for all to see and for you to own and cherish
All work must diligently precede
Hence a day at a time is the best guarantee
Categories:
pursuers, introspectionday, dream, day, dream,
Form:
Free verse
Enough Already!
You’re dawn’s ghost of a chance each new day can find meaning,
dusk’s thanks to creation, for gifts we’ve received.
You paint rhythm on roadblocks blank minds won’t let faze them,
revealing new words to lift poets from daze.
You’re fresh insights rhyme brings to the stupor of dullards,
not dreaming muse drifts when they raft what’s perverse!
You’re the models of physics, a Truth not demeaning,
that yields aid to pilgrims though some get deceived
when they think that they own Truth (pursuers of mayhem).
Your Truth’s democratic, a Truth all can praise.
You dethrone all religions that hoist up gross retards
who claim they know Truth, though they prove the inverse!
Let us praise that we’ve Science that isn’t religious,
elevate what’s pragmatic instead of prestigious.
Don’t let faith that God loves us be faith that’s less humble
or confuse faith with Truth! That could cause both to crumble!
Brian Johnston
20th of November in 2020
Categories:
pursuers, faith, poetry, science, truth,
Form:
Rhyme