Best Resurrection Poems
When Again We Meet
Softly he says, "Should I die do not wait for me." She smiles,
"Just as the moon exhales no light without first a breath from the sun,
without you I'd be in darkness; what is paradise without light?"
04/17/2018
I rise from deep within the earth
out of pressured lavas
I rise above the level into
breathable realms
I rise following the risen
He who set my path and
monitors my lift lovingly
tenderly, yet such pinions
given of steeliness unpluckable
I rise for the grace of the Father,
for the loving sacrifice of the Son,
for the Spirit, all Powerful, Ever-present,
All Knowing – I rise from man's mental
coma...from delirium of his lesser ego,
from estrangement of his physical-obstinance;
climbing higher, into loftier, far brighter reality
of being...
cleanly exalted, my consciousness purified –
I rise on frequencies of heavenly choirs...
throngs of worshiping angels welcoming, wings
fanning my once fuming soul – all the while
singing Praise to Christ, man's Conqueror Lord:
The slayer of Death; the Subduer of devils
and their throngs of whispering, shouting,
deafening demons;
I rise from out under the Master Liar...jealous possessor,
once Arc of God's Most beloved till Fallen...
I rise on a divine swell of compassion and forgiveness –
carried yet higher, on upward, surging tide of greater purification,
resurrected with Divine momentum...a soaring sea of expanding
spiritual freedom...
It is Easter,
as The Risen One anointed, so shall we follow
and rise!
“Glory to God
in His Highest!”
Genesis: God’s plan unfolding
Father, with the Word, creates;
Spirit on the water hovers
God, how great and wise you are!
Caterpillar - slow, unwieldy
Daily tied to earthen bonds
Weaves a tomb of transformation
God, how great and wise you are!
Chrysalis - still small but growing;
Like salvation’s scarlet thread
Silken fibers knit together
God, how great and wise you are!
His creation full of mystery
Tides and seasons, death and birth;
All things change but the Almighty
Only constant One on earth.
Full cocoon - now breaking open
Folded wings untried, unsure,
Now unfolding, flexing, flying;
God, how great and wise you are!
Butterfly - now soaring, sailing
Free at last from landlocked chains
Picture of the resurrection
God, how great and wise you are!
All in Christ made new creations
Old things gone, the new has come,
Praise the Father, Son and Spirit;
God, how great and wise you are!
Spring's resurrection revives
Surprise lovebirds awaken
One springtime our love did blaze
Snow 'pon mountain forsaken
In sleepy
synaptic
catacombs
theorems dream beneath calcified floors
neurons stretch filaments of light
paleontologists of lost certainty
tracing the memory of what
once
coruscated
alive
each recovered syllable rises in luminosity
trailing sediment from older visions
when knowing shifted
steering truth by
extinguished
stars
their light arriving as memory does
late and changed
waves breaking against my palms
sometimes a word returns
with
a
quiver
a neuron long faded suddenly firing
unmasking me
language has a pulse too
memory susurrates in its syllables
tissue pressed beneath the skin
a word returns and with it
a face
already
fading
In dementia's neural ossuaries
they slowly resurface
refracted through time's
fossilized
strata
what returns exceeds what departed
yet what returns also slices us
so softly
with its incompleteness
a small lance lodged behind
ribs and bone
each restoration births knowing
part excavation part genesis
claimed by no century
reshaping me in return
moth-wings brushing my cheek
We become the archaeology of ourselves
hands cupping reverberations
charting the contours of our hearts
hearing again in the filamented dark
the pulse of neurons stretching
filaments of light
spelling the names
we thought
we'd lost
Our Jesus is condemned to die
Oh, Savior, now from Earth- you part.
You do not sigh, nor do you weep,
Though our sins have pierced your heart.
Dear Jesus bears the Holy Cross,
Our Savior of all humankind,
For us, you start this journey now;
Still, endless love for us you find.
Our Jesus falls beneath the Cross;
So dreadful now to bear this pain.
Dear Jesus, when we fall to sin,
Please help us rise up once again.
Our Savior meets his Mother dear,
Mary, anguished and depressed,
Please help us face our sorrows too-
Live up to all our trying tests.
A man named Simon of Cyrene-
Appears to help our Savior’s plight
To lift the weight of his great Cross-
Lord, burden us to spread your light.
Veronica wipes our Savior’s face.
Look now! His imprint's there to stay!
Please on our souls your imprint make
And help us keep it there, we pray.
Dear Jesus falls down on the path,
Again now for the second time.
But soon he rises to go on,
Lord, help us please, to stay in line.
Our Jesus meets some women now,
They kneel down to mourn and weep.
“Weep not for me,” he says to them,
“But for your children, the lost sheep.”
Our Jesus falls again, this time
His journey's nearly at an end.
Dear Jesus, when we fall to sin,
Grant us the wisdom to amend.
Our Lord now stripped of all his clothes-
This torture is so sad and cruel.
Please, Jesus, strip our souls of sin;
Our hearts and souls, you always rule.
Our Jesus now nailed to His Cross-
Your death, dear Lord, is very near.
Sweet Savior nail our souls to you,
And grant us grace to have no fear.
Oh, the dreaded Crucifixion!
Our Jesus now so humbly dies,
While all the sins and sins to come-
Are placed before his tear-filled eyes.
Our Lord is gently taken down,
In his dear Mother’s arms is placed,
Oh Mary, Mother of our God,
Help ease our sorrows to be faced.
Now, Jesus placed inside his tomb,
To rise again on Easter Day-
Redeemer of all humankind,
With us forever you will stay!
Oh! Great day of Resurrection!
From tomb, he rises to the sky,
With all God’s angels by his side-
He joins his Father up on high.
Oh! Great day of Resurrection!
He rose again on Easter Day!
Redeemer of all humankind,
With us forever you will stay!
(Chorus)
You think you've got swagger but really you hobble,
you've got the jet lagger and you're drunk so you wobble,
don't start on me mate 'cus I will bring trouble,
to put it into slang words I'm Barney Rubble.
(Verse)
I will ruffle trouble
'cus I'm on another level
that bombs with the base
and stings with the treble,
I'll strut face to face with any ace rebel,
and put them in their place with their constant bull.
When I rhyme with my contortionist wrist
it expels a mist that sits around my fist,
I spell magic out on paper,
I'm playing with danger,
Mr. Wizardry the word selectionist,
squiggling fiction at speeds that feed friction
into rhymes that are non stop hot and cool,
so flames don't flame on the table top,
journey with me to witness the plot,
the earth shaker creator of perfected hip hop,
starting revolutions so that mumble is forgot,
dislodging the rust and rot it coughs that clots
and instating my Barney Rubble at the top.
(Chorus x2)
(Verse)
That last verse was just a small handful,
a sample of something that you cannot handle,
a scan like a bar code,
so lets open up the road and I'll unload these words,
I can't conceal this skill that rolls like wheels,
a Rolls Royce wearing heels,
in fancy halls doing dancing drills,
with golden walls
to an old skool beat treat.
I wont get signed up by any record label,
but I'm still rhyming better than mumble's able,
just admit you're tapping your feet to the beat
while my rhyme sits on top solid like concrete,
with the dancefloor crammed full,
they're pulling at all angles,
making the memories
that'll last 'til they're O A P's,
they think they've got swagger
and they're like Mick Jagger,
they're more like Sepp Blatter
but a little bit fatter.
(Chorus x2)
(Verse)
You can call me Trimendous and true,
you thought I'd flew crashed and was screwed,
but I took it back to what inspired my act,
an old skool hip hop sick rhyme attack,
I rhymed in flight with this write
and its smile's wild with sublime delight,
there are no poetic rare words
and I don't need swear words
in this dictionary spared verse
with airstream rhythm you can't burst,
I'm wearing this deserved set of words
that pilots and surges to my re-emergence,
a certainty that was never urgent
and not an encore from behind the curtains.
(Chorus x2)
Lord of the Morning
See the white bird rising.
See the sun shine on his wing.
To the Lord he’s rising.
Greeting the Lord of the Morning
Greeting the Lord of the dawn.
See the white bird soaring.
Gliding on the morning breeze.
Sailing on wings of dawning
Praise to the Lord of the Morning.
Praise to the Master of Day.
Who is the Lord of the Morning?
Who is the one we come to adore?
Christ who has risen from dying!
Jesus the Lord of the Dawn.
Hear the white bird singing.
Singing of our risen king.
With a song he wakes us.
Come sing a song of Christ risen.
Come sing a new song of life.
Now the world awakens.
Christ is risen! He lives!
We can soar in new light.
Greeting the Lord of the Morning!
Greeting the Lord of the Dawn.
Who is the Lord of the Morning?
Who is the one we come to adore?
Christ who has risen from dying!
Jesus the Lord of the Dawn.
Run to greet the sunrise!
Run to greet our risen King.
We now live a new life.
Christ lives and conquers the darkness.
Christ lives and brings us to life.
These are the lyrics to poet's song Lord of the Morning. Music is available. Translation to come.
rabu alsaban
anzur 'iilaa alttayir al'abyadwahu yartafie
shahid 'ashieat alshams ealaa jinahih
lilrabi yaqum
alsalam ealeaa rabi alsabah
alsalam ealaa rabi alfajr
shahid alttayir al'abyad yuhaliq ,
tahalaq fi nasim alsabah
al'iibhar 'ajnihat alfajr
alhamd alsabah
alhamd lsyd alyawm
Chorus
man hu rabu alsabah?
man hu alrabu aldhy nati linaeshuqah?
almashi aldhy qam almawat!
almashi hu rabu alfajr
'asman alttayir al'abyad yughni
algina' limalkina alqayim
bi'aghniat yuqazuna
tueal warinm almasih
tueal waghaniun 'aghniat jadidat lilhaya
alan yastayqiz alealam
almasih qam haqanaan qam! laqad eash!
yumkinuna altahliq fi daw' jadid
tahiat rabi alsabah!
alsalam ealaa rabi alfajr.
man hu rabu alsabah?
man hu alrabu aldhy nati linaeshuqah?
almashi aldhy qam almawat
almasshi hu rabu alfajr
arkud litahiat shuruq alshums!
arkud litahiat milkuna alqayim min bayn al'amwat!
nahn naeish alan hayatan jadidatin
yaeish almasih wayughlib alzalmata
almasih yahya wayueiduna 'iilaa alhayata.
If I were a poet
I would pour pieces
Of my heart on pages
Paint in crystalline clarity
The anguish of my ancestors
My poems would be embroidery
Tailoring the strives
of this generation
I would write aspiration
on the mountains of mama Liberia
That her children - yet unseen
Can see and maintain our dreams
If I were a poet
I would write the dead to life
How deep can a poem be to cause a resurrection?
I would write poems so deep
Even the earth will use as its axis
I would perform spoken words
That would send you in awe
Because I would play on more words
Than any dictionary ever did
I would take the hand
Of my pen in marriage
And you would call me
Mr. Inkredible
If I were a poet
I would use my writings
To spray the fragrance of principles
As prove that if you keep
standing for yourself
You can become statuesque
If I were a poet
I would write the name of my Motherland
In every anthology I see
So that someone somewhere
Can see the beauty of my lineage
I would use words
To build skyscrapers of optimism
The truth is
I want to become a poet
But
I haven't found the right words yet
It is Good Friday
Remember, remember
When, for Jesus, everything was nasty and sour
When things were very bad for Jesus
Yet, we don’t say: bad Friday
Afterwards, so everything could be good for us
Jesus was slapped
Jesus was kidnapped
Jesus was humiliated
Jesus was insulted
Jesus was beaten, kicked and hit
From head to feet
Jesus was shackled and handcuffed
Jesus could not even cough
Jesus was ostracized
Jesus was crucified
Like many Blacks and Africans
Like many brothers and sisters with dark skin
Yet, the heart of Jesus was pure and very clean
Jesus had no friends and no fans
Jesus was falsely accused
Jesus was mistreated
Jesus was immolated
Many criminals were amused
Many Satanists and perpetrators had fun
With God’s only Begotten and Special Son
Who had endured pain and suffering like a slave
Yes, yes, Jesus was absolutely brave
Yes, yes, Jesus was innocent
Jesus was resilient, too decent and too pleasant
It is Good Friday
Brothers and sisters, let’s pray
Every day is a Good and Beautiful day
Amen, Amen, let’s reflect on the Day
Brothers and sisters, let’s pray
Remember, remember
When things went very bad for Jesus
Who died for our sins, Who died for us
Yes, Jesus is still standing with us
Jesus is God’s Unique and Special Son
Watch the moon and enjoy the Sun.
Copyright © April 2022, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved
Hébert Logerie is the author of several books of poetry.
I, Lazarus*, have seen the brickwork sky,
Its throne is made of night!
Its salt and lime are drying to the eye,
My wandering…
a sound! a rumble, and a flash of light!
HHHHHHH! How sweet first breath!
That tasting life had tasted only death!
And what is THIS, that thuds against my tomb?
Awaken, Heart! And greet thy new-found groom!
Who is HE, that speaks with sudden waking,
As though forgotten dawn was newly breaking?
I cannot know, though memory tells me so,
I am a Man, and not a man of dough!
O bright the door that leads me back to life!
But, bidden! I must change my sleep for strife!
Thank you, heart-friend!
I thought that you’d forgot!
Who made me breathe, ‘I AM!’ when I was not.
Forgive! I cannot hear, my head’s like snow,
AH! That’s it, ‘loose the man, and let him go!'
1/31/2017
__________
*Lazarus was a friend of Jesus Christ, who raised him from the dead
The dead still walk
within our memories,
and breathe
and smile
and talk
inside that strange preserve we keep,
a room still redolent with life
above the boxes where they sleep.
What irony prevails, that we
may call them forth upon a whim
as frozen servants microwaved,
enjoyed, and then returned at will
to their uncertain rest.
Might we indulge them,
favoring a spirit laugh
at our audacity?
Might they indeed, be guiding us
inside our stumbling bones,
inside this diorama
quite obsessed by touch?
We might do well to understand
they fly to us
with such astounding love
to fill our reminiscenses
upon demand, and yet
with sad politeness fade away
at suppertime.
~
Do you ever wish upon a star
That he will find out where you are
Come and find your hiding place
Make your cold heart start to race
Kiss your cold lips, turn them red
Bring your soul back from the dead
Little brown orb
lying so lightly in my hand,
the marvel of you demanding my attention.
Could I but see deep into your heart,
I would find a perfectly formed flower
waiting there.
Waiting for me
to stir the rich brown earth and make a bed,
a room to hold you through the winter storms.
What life force induces you to grow
and not decay in your dark tomb?
Who guides you?
Lovingly
I cradle you and croon a lullaby.
Your fragile skin splits and bares your creamy flesh,
seemingly much too delicate to survive the
frosts and heaves to come.
I place you there.
Sleep little one.
In hibernation let the good earth nourish you.
Your internal clock, set by Nature,
will waken you to spring;
triumphantly breaking free,
a lovely tulip blossom.
Won 7th place in contest Anything But rhyme.
The happy lark sings dulcet Resurrection!
His silver strands, like notes, weave pearly cloth,
Abide no warring, strife or misdirection;
The Little Folk come softly to the wroth,
And make them glad and wakeful in new Sun.
Elves almost show themselves, then whirl away!
They cannot stop their mischief, for the fun,
They do not flee from shadows, for ‘tis day.
O! Silver cloth, white song bright, interwoven,
Clothe now each weary soul in Glory, pray!
O! Fiery tongues, anointing us with cloven
White flames, teach us prophetic words to say…
Here, breath of babies, sprung from Springtime’s grace
Surrounds roses, in clouds… chiffon and lace…
3/19/2019