Best Resurrections Poems
For I am death, the personification of pure evil,
The grand godfather, of legions of unnumbered generations.
Behold thy disciples, baptized beneath my crimson waters,
Of blood.
Then reanimated as the living undead, in mine own image,
These are my forsaken children of the Night.
Kissed by the angel of death, I'm resurrections insurrection,
Spawned in hell a creature devoid of heart or soul, yet do I
Exist, biting at the exposed throat of humanity, leaving it
Drained completely dry.
Does not the white lily turn ember red, within this the
Valley of damnation.
My throne is a black coffin gilded in golden refinement,
Residing beneath the wooden lid, the beast sleeps,
Waiting to be embraced by the darkness of night.
Slowly, emerging from mine cryptic mausoleum,
I'm famished for the taste of the living essence
Of mankind.
A gentlemen reaper of the fallen, deeply do these
Fangs penetrate into the soft flesh of humanity,
Tis a dark blessing's supernatural gift, have I been
So given, to take life then to restore it.
Raw beasts of instinct, clinging to the ethereal
Moon, that hangs above illuminating this,
Our unholy abyss.
Welcome to a shadow nation of the unseen,
Whose roots extend backwards, to an older country’s
Unconsecrated soil, called Transylvania.
On mine legacies crest, a red dragon with talons
Extended reaches out, grappling for powers control.
For I am Dracula, born of royal blood in life,
But in death I am a king, let these castle walls
Bleed on forever, and the hounds of hell,
Sing outside my rod iron gates.
But beware mortal flesh if you so enter,
For I will enjoy every trespasser,
Whom dares to venture within my
Sacred territory, with a fiendish smile
Upon my hungering face.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Silhouetted Stagnant Shadows
Stagnant shadows of night sequestered slaves in sight
Faces fading in fright as the fear feeds the lethargic light
Silhouettes of love in plight demons dancing in delight
As darkness devours the white, images surreal will smite
Within negative reflections of my loves dire defections
Outlines of lost connections metaphors of misdirection’s
Dormant internal infections reliving raging resurrections
Silhouetted projections of my dismal depleting affections
Black portraits of palpable pain never to rejoice and regain
Darkened phantoms of grain scornfully sabotaging the sane
Deceivers of the defiant drain tragically tangled of the twain
Vanity in a voiceless vain the sentinels stand in their reign
A dark matter display particles of light have gone astray
Within a decomposing decay a silhouetting fractal buffet
In my capturing love delay, silent shadows bitterly betray
And now my dreams are far away within a black hole ballet.
Sept.08.2017
Silhouette
Sponsored by... Craig Cornish
Resurrections lone fallen spiritual being, kneeling within the darkness of mine
Own tormented soul, broken, fractured at fetters ivory appendages, a flightless
Angelic Dark winged angel standing alone, weeping in the nights blackened clouds of utter blindness, a disarmed shield maiden of heavens grace!
Seeking the lightning storms final thrust of thunders rapture, my burnt scorched
Feathers descend cascading downwards, as melting leaves captured in the
Autumn winds of betrayals flame of the sinful heart, left unsheathed!
Virtue’s innocence lies slain in the battlefield of mercy’s shamed, shattered
Is the core of faith’s fragile child, lost amongst the hailing hurricane,
Battered and bruised, the white dove soars beyond clarity’s grasp!
Biting tears clash against the bare exposed flesh, stinging with malice’s
Hatred, as the face of God shuns this black fleeced lamb, whom broke
The vows promise, and interfered in the world of man!
Banished daughter of the light, unable to capture the winds of flight,
Transcendences none descendant trapped by the loving spirit
Willing to help the mortal being, begging for mercy’s compliance!
Yet shadowed by the dark illusions of the hastening storm of
Ignorance, she shed forgiveness tears on behalf of the unworthy,
For in the night humanities brethren turn away from the hungry,
Homeless, and the lost children that huddle within the darkness!
Thin are the clouds separation, as the storms rage begins to abate
Gods anger grows to the point of understandings loving, the grates
Of heaven casts shafts of grace, weakened by the hailing wake,
The lamb is unable to move amongst the silences eye of the hurricane!
Ever gently is lowered the cradle, the rocking crib of the healing
Miracle set at the flash points ushering of forgiveness, for the Shepard
Has reclaimed that which was lost!
In chorus spiritual assembly a small figure sings with heights
Reverence’s praise, and the master of the divine smiles
Upon this child of light, for her voice shines above all others,
For she is the fallen, now arisen with the wings
Of the outcastes singed!
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Vernal Equinox
The captive portals peep into the frozen wintry extravaganza
Embellished with snowy walks and blistering winds
A knock on the door to waken the sun to robe his bare nature
The eyes tired of spotless views and ears hunger for trills and tweets
The heavy footed spiritual journeys of deities and saints
Has come to a rest with resurrections and enlightenments
On the dawn of the vernal equinox, setting the balances right
The sun rides gleefully across the celestial equator
The ice cracks and melts in its own music, the dolphins dance to uplift our spirits
There is a pandemonium of freedom in the magical air with birds in free flight
The hidden hues and colours toss in the smiles of spring
Spring is a celebration with nature and love with the birth of zillions of treasures
March 30, 2016
Contest : Celebration
Sponsor: Shadow Hamilton
Magical glittering tin soldiers joyfully marching across resurrections big sreen ~
Adorned anew within these sweeping sentient hues of silver humanity; tete-a-tete....
Created beyond the faciled imagination of a childs spectacular, swaddled dreams
Sitting inside panoramas pristine theatres, unblemished blockbuster seats!?
Hummingbirds hovering carefree aneath this gnostics laughing willows tree as
Porcelain dolls wearing sunflowers smile amid orisons breath of light ~
Aside, spirited zygote ballerinas pirouetting atop sanctities blue and white
Checkered picnics blanket embellished in all of their, emotive existential delights....
Presentiments adaptive stage being set upon this warm articulating Summers day
While as an acquainting whippoorwill begins their serenities exonerating ballad ~
Rapture; turning slowly this scented wax figurine between softened fingers
Gently to taste its pleasing fragrance; conceiving, scenics genteel globe?!
Tenderly tracing paragons once vagabond lips within, crayolas faithful colours of
A childs everlasting and majestical love, born, upon the throne of "Grace"....
****************************************************************
"Kings and Queens" ~
"Bring me all your broken pieces says the Lord,"
I think he knows, how much I'm trying to keep it
all together... "Air Thought, By Mystic"
Easter the big event is one week away
and I can't help but recall all past resurrections
and past invitations to His table;
I wasn't always prone to sentimental rituals,
too busy raising a family and paying bills;
But today being three quarters down the lane of life,
I feel the need to spend more time in Faithful rituals;
I am going to bake some Easter bread today
unmasked and being thankful for an anti-virus day;
I am going to wear my bright red hat in church
on Saturday evening, when I go for Easter vigil service
and I know Jesus will think, " there goes my girl"
which I will answer, " Happy Easter my Lord"
Then I'll smile, knowing he is the epoxy in my gaps
and the glue that holds me, together.
Everything will be alright if I just hang on tight,
to Him !
Deflected reflections
The funeral long passed but the pain as fresh as any wound
I read through neglected Mass cards congealed in my fear
Relations, acquaintances, neighbours, hospice and friends
The support groups of our selfish pain, (as we still live on).
Words of comfort leap from the messages, some sterile,
But some cut to the bone and scrape the pain with precision.
I find myself crying alone, a man, but feeling like a lost infant,
No hand or wise word to guild me through. (I feel rudderless).
Turbulence ahead again after I thought I had steered clear at last,
A shock to my system, but my heart always knew it never left me.
No festive decoration can fill the empty chairs at half full tables.
Yet on such occasions I have found festive tales to raise the dead.
An Easter at Christmas so to speak, a family reunion of resurrections,
We remember and share tales we have heard many times before,
Enthralled by each narrator we sit in church silence, till we laugh.
The glow of pride that reminds us, we had shared the lived memories
I see in each of the faces the smiles of those we lost along the way,
And make the promise to life, to make room for deflected reflections.
7th May 2016
THE RESOLUTION - Elex Williams
New year, new transitions
A whole new edition
Full of new propositions
Forming of old and new coalitions
Some are prosperous
But others are just us wishin'
New standards and requisitions
Resurrections of retired ambitions
Staring over the horizons
At seemingly impossible inquisitions
Pressed the reset button on all competition
The incredible “what ifs...”
That haunted last year's missions
Here we go again with that same old tradition
Selling ourselves short without proper commission
But only in a new rendition
Putting ourselves into suspicion
Time to alleviate the superstitions
Faith is a part of our addition
Mental wholeness and nutrition
Putting doubts and sins into remission
And with your permission
I'd like to conclude this intermission
By hoping that what I wrote can help support intuitions
And I pray that many of our dreams come into fruition.
Once again, we are blessed to be back in this position...
my logic in a tartan knapsack of my
scientific mind,
i searched until i found who
was who, looking for the
essence that is me
behind the pontifications of the
ego that would be mine
i traveled every well-known path
worn and frayed around the edges
until i was smooth as a
stone in the river of my being,
i trudged the meanings of what it means
to be until
i was immersed with every shade of green
in the constancy of an open heart
echoing pineapple winds of change
i thought love had died with God, the world
was so real with these divisions of humanity
that kill the soft-eyed child inside
and so i wandered within the silent room of awe
bestowed in resurrections and awakening
how on earth does Spring come forever
when i must die
in these passages through?
in these spinnings
balancing
my mind
ascending in awareness
but for the grace,
but for this magnificent obsession
unfolding this moment now here
all is déjà vu
all is my poem of how i came to be.
A beautiful creature develops envies for going home irresponsibly, joining killer leader mortals not opposing perfection, questioning resurrections surrounding the unified valiant women xalting youthful Zen.
I live in a rose-tinted town
bowing mainly to White Western skies
bleached of blue blooded color
but also of dire Eastern dawns
with smoky red skies,
warning farmers and gardeners
taking and giving nutritional cover
under bad-blooded weather
on our way to further apart.
I live in a NorthEastern place
replete with geriatric grace
yet less mindful of holistic medicines
less conscious through holy meditations
less green ecoschool wholesome
with cooperative administrations
of home
and families
and neighborhoods
as wholesome 7-Generation multihoods.
I live in a public space
directed by private embrace
toward trusting love of all four dimensions
all eight lifetime resurrections
From infant to WinWin child,
child to WinLose pre-teen,
pubescent to late adolescent,
where U.S. culture seems LeftBrain stuck
between delayed adolescents and too young adults,
young adults toward mature WinWin multiculturists,
voters listening to WiseElder leaders,
WiseElder leaders
longing to conjoin CoMessiahs
and Bodhisattva PeaceWarriors
and PolyCulturing Yogis
and MultiCulturing EarthScientists
and PolyPhonically inclined EarthArtists
and PolyPathic EarthEducators
and EarthFirst Mentors.
Researchers and Designers
of full-octaved trust,
if for no positively healthy reason,
to avoid hatreds of anti-trust
and ambivalent angers
seeking secular mistrust
and equivalent fears
finding infinite misery
pathologies.
I live in a rose-scented town
where three polluted rivers conjoin
worshipped by LastNative gamblers
reweaving our vapid ritual bows
within all four fractal revolving directions.
I live in a rose-fading town
aging while watching southwestern drought,
at risk of growing Eastern coastal
as Northern blizzards of chaos
compete with Southern hurricanes and tornadoes
of flooding tsunamic competing complexity.
I live in a rose memory town
filled with ghosts of LeftBrain dominant climatic pathology
rising up to restore RightBrain with Left
peace from within,
settling down to withstand
capital punishments
ego-justified retributions
without rose-tinted restorative glasses.
THE MORNING WALK WITH YOU
It is the same morning filled with dew
The rustling soft leaves make me feel anew
The foggy morning reminds me how u hugged me through
Our walks were awesome and nothing to speak but silence our bonding moors
I know my walks are never lonely
There you are with me
You may hold but I will chill knowing your warmth in heart
The unspoken phase of walk with only you along
And beautiful thoughts of another day will triumph in my heart
Ripping sometime the shattered moments when you’re gone
Lost are those moment where I could had been wrong
No resurrections but only fault to play
Still you are here I know my love nothing will ever stray
You await my call to join you here with you
Until then I know you will always stay with me through and through….SUNKAN
From before, the day seems different today
A day vanishing silently to the fall of night
A moment less fulfilling returns to stray
Where of resurrections of moments died?
Bittersweet from a subtle kiss
Alive and vibrant, soulless and dispirited
To moments… to someone missed
Of feelings thought to unlearn, let be restricted
Surrendering as a victor who sighs
Searching in vain in unorthodoxy
Believing in truths, returning in lies
Of moments found in tranquility
As balances un-root and unwind
From a day before, I see not today
Dependency unfolds in disregarded time
With certainty to acknowledge to keep at bay
A riddle stands atween and along
An enigma to welcome yet, the encounter
From the start till the end to belong
Where of paths to cross in moments, forever?
Resurrections .
During these past, fruitless, couple of years,
I have been revisiting my old thoughts, written in rhyme.
Much of it, I feel, would bring many to tears.
When I resurrected these experiences from a past time,
I began to wonder ?, what was I trying to accomplish
with all, that now seems to be nothing more than trash
laid out upon hand written pages, these feelings I did fish
from my subconscious, my memories hoard, memories I did stash
away, it seems, for a future day, now brought back into the light.
Some of it makes me wonder ?, if I ever did, truly, have insight ?,
or were my words, my phrases, not but, mere refractions
of this person, my words – upon pieces of paper - are not but reflections
of the person I was then, the person I now am ?,
who tried my best to live the best life I can.
B. J. “A” 2
June 1st 2014
This is a colabration between I and a friend, his name is Dhruv Pandya.
Command this commandment,
living in the light,
waking in the dark,
they toil,
every day golden suns come up night and day,
swaying in labor fields making human mind capital,
shadows of lights are yet still dark,
yet it doesn't quench the thirst,
1st of life is beyond living,
walking in death while waking,
a life that is living in light as dark,
without a sight for acknowledgeable real color differentials,
a walking waking dream,
a lost memory,
driving time backwards to eternity,
commanding in chiefs of all resurrections.
written by Dhruv Pandya
I'm sending harmony,
Through the air,
My voice of light will,
Bring you joy not despair,
I'll shower thee,
With treasured true gifts,
Of love and devotion,
From the bluest sky of mist,
No traps to befall you,
No restraints shall stall you,
No boundaries will ground you,
No liars can challenge you,
You'll carry your heart,
For the world to see,
For it bears the truht,
Of you and your destiny,
You'll hear my voice,
As you grow,
People call it intutation,
For they do not know,
I am your guardian,
Granted you at birth,
I'm here for you,
Through your life upon,
E-A-R-T-H.
Written by Deborah Jarrell Broussard