Best Relegate Poems
While I gaze in your eyes, cool cerulean blue,
Sifting night, straining stars through morning’s sweet dew,
I can fathom the depths of empyreal skies,
Angels fluttering by, riding wild butterflies
While I gaze in your eyes, changing, aqua-blue greening,
I’m sucked into chasms, cascading, careening,
And yield to enticements which meekly disarm,
Seeping virtuous beauty, sad sensuous charm
While I gaze in your eyes, bleeding fiery blue
Ever tempting with treasures, with pleasures for two,
Being caught at the core of a blazing sapphire
Possessing, enthralling, aflame with desire
While I gaze in your eyes, misty emeralds, deep green,
Veiling laughter and banter, and echoes between,
Then I dream, so it seems, in whatever the place,
Of your scent, of your breath, of your radiant face
While I gaze in your eyes, at times placidly blue,
Near’ as calm as the weirs in the woods all bedewed,
Forty winks relegate to a shimmering lake,
Gently floating on lilies, while waiting to wake
While I gaze in your eyes, caught engulfed in the greens
And consigning my fate unto verdant ravines,
My reactions, at length, become shyer and shyer
Reminiscent of ravens at risk in the briar
While I gaze in your eyes, restless, hesitant blues
Overwhelming sensations with turbulent hues,
I’m succumbing to waves of a storm battered sea,
Being cast like a plank, never meant to be free
While I gaze in your eyes, shadowed, Midnight Lake green
Glowing hazy with dreams, misty thoughts so serene,
Sudden silence befalls me, a fast sinking stone,
Looming lost in your eyes, I am never alone
While I gaze in your eyes, saddened, lachrymal blue,
Spilling trickles of rain, pearls obscuring your view,
I’ll attend to your anguish and feelings morose,
Lightly kissing your tears, touching, holding you close
While I gaze in your eyes, pulsing infinite green
Of the earth and of heaven and all in between,
It is simple to see that my hands can hold all
Of the treasures I find which so humbly enthral
While I gaze in your eyes, when they’re bountifully blue,
I’m reminded, love’s lightning is granted to few...
While I gaze in your eyes, when they’re blindingly green,
I’m reminded, love’s lightning cannot be foreseen...
Yet I hope... and I wait...
Sparring with demons, and dragons and deadheads
It bobs and weaves like a drunken sailor.
Omnipresent, omnipotent and omniscient
I'm quite attached to it - joined at the psyche.
Image of an incubus twirling as I do.
Patron Saint of agony, I curse it
And relegate it to a 2nd-class personage.
Out, damn spot, out - and take the blood with you.
When I am naked, it is clad (no projection),
No libido, no tumescence, no consummation.
How's that for a declension?
When it ascends, I float in the ether.
This hermaphrodite queen is superior
To all mono-sexual beings
And since I am bound and bounded
It supplies the rope, the pins and the Worchestshire Sauce
Third person singular with plural overtones.
No objection for this object of my affectation.
Alas, the narcissus cannot not spin like lilies,
But only vegetate with the legumes.
The coda, finale, epilog await
Looming like a sarcophagus awaiting its occupant
And alcohol cannot still the tooth
That nibbles at its soul.
Milton and Adam, egocentric Narcissists
capitalized idea of freedom from pessimists
Freedman and Smith, associates seeing all
to the very end of their own proboscises
no one knows better, than self (and them)
what society needs to get fettered again
what you don't know can't hurt ya, right?
capitalism can take away eminent domain
they reasoned government wants to regulate
all manner of every individual's desires
only to get the citizenry to relegate
and fill out the few forms they'd require
they (the government) don't need to protect us
from poisons in foods, or usury rates
we can all make our own lifeline decisions
it's all for oneself and no more debates
the crock that you fill with substance
is the crock that holds your own water
eco-governance only makes for encumbrance
grinding individualism to earth as a pauper
rooms they wrote from were filled with words
of what Adam and Milt wrote and said
to balance others with self they maintained absurd
'course Freedman and Smith - they're both dead
© Goode Guy 2014-01-16
Yes, we’ve got the message
But what of its passage?
From your factories vapor
That does not foster rapport:
To residents a mission
Cushioning the emission…
I fear rearing stalemate
And a final waiting bait.
I wonder the smart platform
You’ll set up to quell the storm.
Whom you choose as Delegate
They shall behind relegate…
To Angering Pollution
Bribery not solution
We all have so many decisions in this world we must make
But none of them, could ever cause such eternal heartache
None of them will ever push your soul so far away
Then the day that you delete your own Child's birthday
I like the color blue and maybe you like red
But this is a matter of what the Creator Himself has said
And if you choose to trample on such hollow ground
Then wonder not why with all other such evil you have found
So worldly easy to relegate it to a choice
For you have never even heard that little baby's voice
Remember the other side and allow it speak to you
For satan has always lied and here you are giving him his due
Such a valuable prize stealing your soul in this way
Choosing not to see his wicked lies but you will one day
Oh trust me children are so very hard to raise
But that is just one more way that I can give God praise
Please reach out at this time for the Lord's Hand
He will give you the strength in helping you to understand
For the Lord understands knowing this won't be easy for you
But in God's all complete wisdom, He picked You!
Deuteronomy 30:19
I call heaven and earth to record this day against you,
that I have sat before you life and death, blessing and cursing:
therefore choose life, that both thou and thy seed may live:
Wretched traitors and thieves of emotions!
Blurring my vision and stinging my throat
Choking, choking until my mind melts and
Runs out, unchecked, through my silly red nose
I can make them stop if I really want to
And I do lately it seems....
By distracting myself with rancid thoughts
And blinking as though I were insane
I relegate them below decks and try to stave the flow;
Where they hide and slumber I don’t exactly know...
But I believe they have meetings regarding my resistance
And a mutiny is in the making even now;
I won’t stand a chance
Perhaps with diligent disregard
They will cease their formidable efforts
Stopping with the constant pricking and slicing
Of the tender places down deep in my heart
For I fear their release that I will be swamped;
Thrown overboard in the confusion and damp
Never again to captain this ship
That I have poured my soul into governing
Tears, filthy pirates, go away…
For you are not welcome here
My POETRY SOUP EASTER POEM for April 10, 2017:
I.
Some Say Easter; but can you spare Him a glance?
It’s Jesus Christ Time; Always Jesus time for real Living
Ecce Homo! Pontius Pilate said, with a worried smile -
As he washed his own hands from the looming crime
Permitted the Synagogue to protect its turf, ground of religion
Priests who rejected the Prophets, bullied my beautiful LORD
To the cruel cross, to crucify the Living Word
Disfigured by man: Roman, Jewish, Gentile …
More than forty lashes of a whip like a cat-of-nine
Humbled for my sins, undressed for all, spat upon,
Mocked and crowned with a thorny crown …
Yet His divine majesty glowed through the ugliness
(mine). Blood vessels, even tiny capillaries, were burst ...
II.
But He alone gave up His Spirit, dismissed the Ruach
To die like a man, then rise like only God can – man’s worst
Did not surprise our Trinity; Such love takes eternity
To be understood; we hate pain and curse the Creator
Yet He came down, joined us, to rise with every sinner
- Like you good folks, I welcome this season and the Cross
- But do we care that willful sinning is treason to Jesus?
In spite of it all, His love gives, receives, and forgives
O trust Him, O do trust Him: every believer lives
That is God’s heart – always His ardent desire
To relegate only Satan’s rebels to hellfire ...
III.
Our Jesus, my Jesus, is man yet God in Glory
Flee to Him. Abide and rest in him, meditate on His story,
a minute a day will suffice: He is an easy taskmaster
(My yoke is easy; My burden is light, says Holy Scripture)
Could you please spare a minute? Do you have time
Away from shopping and decorating, cooking and looking?
Looking to the News for signs of a fresh beginning?
Thanksgiving is not a Feast, each day is for thanksgiving!
O, a minute with Jesus will offer eternity
Like the ardent Lover, He asks for your glance only
To unleash a flood of His best; His promised abundance -
Heaven and hell hang in the balance: could you spare Him a glance?
None like Jesus; ever giving – ever waiting – that perchance
I would repent like St. Peter. Citizen, can you spare Jesus a glance!
When talking to a born again Christian,
I need to think certain things about them,
That they’re at the baseline mentally ill,
For saying that Jesus, who’s dead, is alive.
An opinion is an opinion, it can stand,
But Christianity makes a claim bold, stark,
About an historical man who effected,
Christians say he is god, so lives today.
I believe it to affect your mental health,
‘Cos this has real imprecatory waves,
For those alive today with a condition:
Christians give them faith healing.
This is wrong and can’t be tolerated,
Needs diminished and categorised,
Relegate Christianity to the lower way,
And assert yourself within secularism.
I watch you dance at my demise
for you there's pleasure in my pain
I witness you're only happy
when I'm miserable once again
if I were burning in a pan
you would be turning up the heat
Somehow I am not a person
on my sorrow you wish to eat
I see your eyes as they sparkle
on those cruel lips you have a smile
I'm wired to your electric
you're the one turning up the dial
my only hope is to escape you
or you will hasten my demise
You are unconcerned with the truth
you luxuriate in your lies
I chose the ones who celebrate
who's spirits rise upon my glee
I'm lifted on their good wishes
they only want the best for me
I relegate you to memory
for me it's easier that way
You could have lived in my happy
now your locked in sad yesterday
School was out,
vacation touched our gate,
long days,bedtimes late;
time,routinee we relegate
Bird nesting,climbing trees,
building dens,adults unseen,
picnics and make-believe;
imagination-filled dreams
Unsupervised,wandering free,
adventures sans boundary,
no cares,no chores;
natural boyhood to the core
23/4/11 inspired by red'n'ritten's series of childhood
reminiscences
Romans 13:1 - “The authorities that exist have been established by God”…
Though that seems more of a facade, long shot and a fraud from a world long gone
Since sin no longer seems fiction in this depiction of friction with biased predictions
An election... with no intention of protection for the derelict despite respective messages
Seems like these cycles are a hit-miss of plot twists and taut fists that obscure who God is
But we make no connection that contention from our own predilection sows dissension
And without intervention comes resentment, we need spiritual direction
But instead of resting in God’s embrace we attack others with a verbal mace
while we brace our own heart for impact, still intact, rate of pace faster than light in space
We’re caught up in the race but instead should race to erase the rays of hate from our own race.
Why do we debate the debates as we relegate and castigate with hate, then demand a rebate
or hammer their manner like it’s grammar, then try to conjugate what they obfuscate
Our minds are lost in space while propaganda confiscates our thoughts of late
Then traps them in relapse, perhaps inaction would produce the largest fraction of satisfaction
But our thoughts are funneled and fueled into to a brew of psychological stew
so heated and cruel it boils over derision and division, it’s no wonder we have tunneled vision.
Then when the door unhinges, pops open, it’s rigged with bigoted dissonance, explosives
that spring from an ocean filled with commotion from springs of offense overflowing
because we dared to confused fact with opinion and reasoning with motive
America caught between a persona gargantuan and aroma of pantsuits and emails scandalous
The purposes of service is not to deter with private servers or privates and perverts with backers
in reserve or greenbacks in reserves, we reserve the right to deserve more than this disservice
So when we venture into this realm of guesswork where conjecture is turned into adventure
When the cyclical turns visibly unbiblical with violently physical intervals fueled by the visceral
Instead of surrendering our heart’s rhapsody of magnitude into apathy and lassitude
...let us pray for strength to maintain a God sustained attitude of positive aptitude
Freedom is a complex state to capture in words. So much, that when asked as a young man in a foreign country, how it might feel, I never could describe it. When you know wonderful family life, caring neighbourliness you take for granted, the most beautiful girl in your limited world who loves you without reservation, how can this not feel like freedom?
And yet you know, when you encounter the divide of race, that your soul sees another, unlike it. And before a heart-wrenching word is said, you know to expect it, and something deep inside wants to die.
He who has passed on, in his wisdom, would have called it all angles in a swan formation, a distraction from the essence of humanity and its fallibility. He would have said that the power that engenders the need to express such revolt, is like a spectral effigy seeping through imaginary vents. It exists in the mind of a deprived soul, seeking its own freedom from deceit.
A mind that grows from its own hard-won freedom, however hard to describe, does in time conquer all fears. Fears of knowing, that inside you hurt when those you know do, that it is not a simple task to carry the burden of truth that perhaps sometimes you’re privileged to know, that whatever it all means, the day shall come when it shall all grow out of piles of spiritual litter, and reform, to ignite another spark…the human spirit.
Some days, you relegate the expression of such intimacy, to a special day. But it never comes. Until the rain-soaked puddles mark the spots where tears were shed, and the rain fell, in equal measure. And then you had to say goodbye to the one symbol that meant that freedom was possible, even when you still could not describe it.
When the world cries in tandem, he may not live, but he will never leave.
...for Juvie
The larks perform at your behest,
and rivers run their course at your command,
the sun and moon spill brilliance
to light the way, directed by your hand.
The stars are sparkles in your hair,
sprinkled in the dark of night,
your heart and soul sing love songs
that engage the wind in airy flight.
Soft and gentle are your ways,
sweet your countenance that glows,
the sun you relegate to shame,
this your nature doth disclose!
Sparring with demons, and dragons and deadheads
It bobs and weaves like a drunken sailor.
Omnipresent, omnipotent and omniscient
I'm quite attached to it - joined at the psyche.
Image of an incubus twirling as I do.
Patron Saint of agony, I curse it
And relegate it to a 2nd-class personage.
Out, damn spot, out - and take the blood with you.
Let every woman go bold
let every woman find her stronghold
with doors of knowledge therein
Every woman enter to reign
For womanhood is pure gold
Let us then support them women
For if we disobey it is bad omen
That relegate into beings less
That are cursed never to bless
Nor utter good amen
Speak freedom woman speak!
For womankind is no more weak
Walk your way into the kingdom
Where all law is wisdom
As you climb upwards to the peak