Best Reverenced Poems
Love is ultimate, but with you it was fatal.
I had lots of laughter not until I said “I love you too!”.
Number two was my certified location
b’cos I’ve always reverenced you so high
at the topmost of priorities.
Your gladness was much more than my enjoyment,
it germinated into compulsory duties I had to perform.
My pride became your belt and my shame, your underpants.
The definition of me translated to the adoration of you.
I worry to give us a balance
but you hurry to topple the equilibrium.
My life, a spreadsheet of your errands,
subjecting my feelings into a standby
to suit your taste and exhausting comfort.
But one day!
The slightest of contact with an acid
will change the litmus colour
and a continuous debt by a tenant
will abruptly render him homeless.
Your oil is used up, the engine is knocked
and the lamp has gone dark.
A heart so tender, you deserve not.
Arms once warm have been frozen to rigor motes.
My back is turned towards you
and that beauty, you’ll never see again.
Go and taste the seedlings of the city’s daughters
and the well sauced soups of its young maidens.
I’m no longer yours even if nature advocates for mercy.
Consider my sweetness and calm now as stones
mixed in dough, baked and served with vinegar.
You proclaim “I’m now a completely changed man”,
I believe you, but for the next girl.
Know this Mr. Irresistible guy,
even if you’re the last birth of all men
I’ll never again present my affections for your selfish trade.
Goodbye my past lover, I sincerely wish you well.
Some things are sacred
They shouldn’t be tarnished
With vulgarity or crudity
They deserve reverence
God is holy, above anything
He shines down His love
That should never be degraded
With rudeness or offensiveness
There are some things in this life
That is worth more than wealth
Nature with all it’s beautiful wonders
Alive with glimmers of creation’s air
The very air we breathe is a gift
A God given part of our lifeforce
We could never measure it’s worth
It is what keeps us from death’s hold
The trees, birds and brilliant colors
Of an earth that is covered in joys
So enlightening that they surround
With hues of tenderest acceptance
The sacred should be reverenced
With true adoration and respect
That flows from our hearts and souls
With a sense of what is God’s purpose
True wisdom will tell every reflection
That we are sent here with an intention
To give the parts of our own selves
That will acknowledge the spirit within
His spirit desires to guide us to the way
The truth, the life… Jesus is the answer
To teach us about sacred revelations
That whisper with gentle benevolence
We sing the song today withal our pride
For the nation who gave us our life,
Let us forgive for a day all enmities
And solely beclam their souls
Who bled freedom for us to live and peacfully die.
Let us unite today one nation not several states
One religion not casteism, one culture not classism,
Let us worship today one idol not millions we reverenced
One language not parted, one trait not fallacious
For those who bled freedom for us to bask and relish the daylight.
We sing the song today withal our pride
For those who sweated for us to gratify our hunger,
Let us praise for a day with all dignity
And give their life a day to live
For those who ploughed and gave the nation its scenic greenary.
Let us bestow with one individual not one amongst the crowd
One voice not hollers, one vision not apathetic eyes,
Let us preach today for one regime not unbiased politics
One person not any gender, one love not any protagonist
For those who honored our nation with medals and fame.
We sing the song today withal our pride
For those who penned us their creative literally works and arts,
Let us pray a spiritual rebirth with all dedication
And narrate their noble life
For those who treasured our nation with poetries, stories and fine arts.
Let us travel together with one destination and no bar
From Kutch to Churra, from the Himalaya to Nicobar
We are all martyrs, let us be blessed by the holy bathe in the Ganga
And unite the masses with the spirit of the song of our nation
For all those who deserve, let us salute for them hoisting the flag
Our Pride, Our nation, India.
Note: Dedicated to all the Indians. Happy Independence Day. (15th August, 2011)
Hi keep me in your visage,
keep me in your sociostew
quote me in a passage
or hey, F U
themes, ideas, sonnets,
mambypamby contrivances set to words
tell me your thoughts are merely
terds. No creativity, stilitd patterns,
prose passivity and illcreated
rhytm lanterns given to pre cunni
lingual callings set to teen tonal
twitterings of **** adult annoyances
of prepostadnoidial fake frontal toe the line
godforbidugetpregnantwhileI haveuinthe
backseatofmycar,basementmotelroomparkalbeit
sanctifiedmarriagewithalloftheaccruments beguiledgiven to the EverWaiters
of sexo satisfied vagino villified vanilla wafer
wishes until the wounded wedding night cherry bursting
(yea right)
bomb blast blemishes. Keep it in in novative organ aztional
invigor ative essence to stand by yr manwomanpersonit
as statedstated by state in a reverenced supreme courted not society
given to a biased"What the hell do we do now guys/gals and inbetweens", SFHD.
Guess it and get the prize, or play our home game
as your consolation gift.
We r un evolving without the neutral notion of
core capacity locus of control and seminal socialization.
We r what we BE and all else is con
trivity. Sons/daughters noncompliant with the so be its and told u so's
do as I do keep it simple, we as boomers ahve set a style too conseropliant to
reinvent the self. youth recapitulate your entity and serve no one unless it
benefits those insufficient to a misnomer antiquated to a universal device
dead to annoyance and brevity. Unforgiving to a future promise.
All for one and one for all.
The giant of the east, a thorn in the most prosperous continent
possessing land so massive which is second to none
having each day measured in nine different scales
and twelve large waters in full interaction with its borders
Its pride feeds on most of European and global superlatives
is it from the stores of fresh water
or the preservation of the wild plant communities?
Is it its rich deposits piled beneath the Earth
or its sized capital of huge significance to Europe?
This historic nation prides in them all and even more
But then, the limbs of its diplomacy are incomplete
in such regard, important allies are difficult to come by
no room for adjustments- it must be what it wants
Georgia and Ukraine’s tears then becoming the pay
for its domineering spirit
Though not adequately reverenced by the inhabitants of the jungle
a hippo still remains more dangerous than the lion
well ranked among the frontiers of global authority
but a major 21st century bully even in this time of civilization
T'was not about the Fire
That Burn the Bush but would not consume
T'was about the Bush that Hosted God.
T'was not about the Ark
That killed the one that gave it Support
But Blessed to envy, the House that kept it
T'was about the House that Reverenced His Presence.
T'was not about the Fire
That burn Seven times over
Burned the Soldiers and the Ropes
But the Hebrew offenders would not consume
T'was about Men that Knew and Believed in their God.
T'was not about the Fire
That answered not
Despite the limping and cuttings of Baal prophets
But descend heavily at the beckon of Elijah.
T'was about the Prophet that carries God.
T's not about the storms
Or challenges that come our way
T's not about the answers
That we don't get, even at that point
When we've tried-cried our best.
T's not about the God
That seems desperately quiet
Incidentally at that exact time
When the questions get most vigorously daunting
T's about Me
How My walk was before the storms came
T's about Me
Where My Faith lies when I needed answers
T's about Me
How much of Him I Carry
T's about Me
My Commitment, My Devotion, My Worship.
T's about Me
How much I've Learnt to trust in Him
Ts about Me
The level of Acquaintance I've gained in His presence.
T's about Me
T's about where I stand.
OCTOBER 2O16 / @M.H.O.G Unveiled
Unveiled, I stood before him with no modesty
Exposing the true splendor of my femininity
He stared at me as if, I were a flawless creation
Professed my utter beauty with no hesitation
He looked at me and captured my essence.
Compassion pierced so deep that my soul felt his presence
Gazed within my eyes and he saw my past
Treaded gently through my being, creating new paths
Carefully he navigated my intricacies
He weaved himself into my complexities
Finding secret passages, he unearth my buried treasures
And i offered him gifts of my endless pleasures
He reverenced my temple with sheer sensuality
As he knelt before the altar of my Ecstasy.
He sought solace in my sanctuary, and I allowed him rest
Willingly I welcomed him inside of my flesh.
As exemplary as a High Priest
and consecrated as a Temple's Inner Chamber.
Respected amongst his colleagues,
reverenced by His subordinates,
distinguished, honorable and set apart.
Then came the moment of Truth
like the refining fire which may burn or may purify.
A Golden Opportunity never to be seen again,
but a situation to break or to make him.
This is Crude Diamond Ore from a glance
already anticipating to do it at once
creating an allabi with occurrence in France
and covering all traces in utmost Brilliance
Not minding his activated self-repugnance
certainly it will give birth to wealth and public acceptance.
If Life gave him more options, he'd freelance.
But with this one opportunity, he'd like to dance.
Having no qualms; even if he disappoints his fans.
He isn't to be blamed if Life is not a balance
and success among all has no concomittance.
This is the start to his enjoyment galore
but can be forever hunted by the Law.
The heaped pressure pressing more and more,
but what the Hell! It's just one flaw.
With a blessing so raw,
attached with bountiful Harvest he never saw.
Thinking of his glory and celebration
and already holding his blessing
like a woman in lactation
yet a part of him suppresses
his whole in castigation
making him feel so useless
like a man facing castration
forcefully taking his freedom
and peace in extortion
Just about to make the decisive move,
he resisted the push and forgot about the groove
having in mind, something to prove
he signed the blank cheque without adding another "0"
------
We have a friend
Who has got a friend
In Jesus///
------
So far beyond reason
To good to be a rhyme
He is the Savior
He has been here
Since creation
He has been here
Since the beginning
Of time
------
The Reverenced One
Chosen by Thee
When Kingdom Come
He soon will be to
Represent Me
------
To counter-mend my thought
And to counter my sin
To bring me back to
The Loving arms'
Of God, again....
--------
With a just a simple prayer
And a counter' Amen
GF
autumns weary saint unceremoniously patterns out a few leaves.
stained fingers against drum rolling tobacco papers work quickly.
round about him perenially leaking wisdom.
square about him corners juxtapose against his skin.
once again staggering round september
twice again full of muddied puddles.
three times again he blends his footsteps to unravel.
now the pavement tends to keep an ambivalent expression
at this time of year.
not like the elegant industrial poppies who's sledder stalks are
messed into a woven chain link fence next to the seven-eleven
on barber blvd.
leaning against the fence he can see through the window a glowing
ganesha next to the register chain smoking, he wonders if he will
ever be able to quit.
but still he is reverenced about this time of year.
autumns forgotten pilgrim holy in his rainy cathedral
waters all mosaics on street corners as he hides his secret
of a cracked oval sun with shaky gray clouded hands.
With many names, I'll reverence You in prayer.
Alpha and Omega, You've always been there.
The Word became flesh, and among us You dwelt.
Lamb of God, You bore each accusation dealt.
Holy Anointed One, Chief Cornerstone,
uniting believers, for sin You atone.
Great High Priest, we may access God through You
by confessing our sins; Your promise is true.
Emmanuel, "God is with us" in flesh.
Bright Morning Star, you forgive us afresh.
Messiah, Yeshua, Savior of the world,
by You ancient scrolls become unfurled.
Wonderful Counselor, you empathize,
tempted in all ways, proven sinless and wise.
Good Shepherd, you chasten those who go astray,
leaving ninety-nine for one runaway.
Lord, You are The Way, The Truth, and The Life,
The Prince of Peace in a world filled with strife.
King of Kings and Lord of Lords, above all,
before You all nations will one day fall.
Good teacher, You instruct us day by day
as we seek Your whole heart and humbly pray.
5-2-2021
Tell Me, Who Do You Say That I Am Poetry Contest
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
Intergalactic travel reveals some kinks.
Man visited mars and left a sphinx.
Cydonia and Mesopotamia saw new futures borne.
The “Tower of Babel” and ancient technology…men mourn.
Was man’s “spirit world” formerly preserved on Mars?
Did “sons of God” once travel among the stars?
Egyptians learned to build sphinxes to provide for souls.
Their tradition, also, distantly reverenced afterlife’s goals.
The Tower of Babel…great technology…lost.
Travel through the heavens was stopped at great cost.
Many marvels, modern man cannot explain.
A sphinx on a distant planet, mysteries remain.
© Dane Smith-Johnsen
September 15, 2010
Jesus is the Reason for the Season.
Christ the King of Glory
Holy is his name
Reverenced by the Saints
I lluminated Holy Word
Savior of the lost, downtrodden, poor at heart
Treasured in the hearts of every believer
Mercy granted to the sinner
Almighty Lamb of God
Sin conquered and eternal life given
Christmas Spells Jesus In the Heart of Every Believer.
Within a lush verdant meadow, meanders a lazy river
Where wildflowers bloom beneath the warm breath of the sun
They sway upon a gypsy wind on this early morning in June
Stems of purple heather rise above the carpeted earth,
Emerald green as any Irish hillside or garden near the shore
Their saccharine scented plumes attract the pollen seekers
Bursts of color can be seen in shades of scarlet and white
For growing on the river's bank is a plethora of anemone
Not the variety that resides in the depths of a sea
Yellow iris mingle with daisies in this alfresco arboretum
Untouched by the hand of man, it's an immaculate bouquet
Resplendent in perfumed glory and pristine perfection
There's the mellifluous sound of a cascading waterfall
singing a soft melody as it spills from crevices of granite rock
Nourishing the serpentine river flowing through the glade
This haven appears as an Elysian Field, as Eden must have been
A sanctuary to remain inviolate and reverenced by the gods
Perceived to be hallowed ground, too sublime for mortal man
September 29, 2021
Your Best Sijo Poetry Contest
Sponsored by William Kekaula
I watched the endless procession of stalwart youth, resplendent in their panoply gathered, a
steelly passion filling resolute gait.
And I asked of them, "To what place does such noble assemblage march?"
"To the Temple of Ares, and Glory's Gate, to burn of names in Honor's book
That they may be reverenced by heroes," said they.
A thousand sundry banners danced in the morning breeze,
And the sun this day was no more radiant than hard Youth's gaze which beheld it.
Then, an eagle, portentious? burst forth from the sky's vast vault to augur their triumph!
But they could not see his tired tear, so far the distance...
And soon, unleashed, the gods of carnage with ghastly abandon sang their drunken
Practiced hymn-
Of young hearts cleft by musket or spear, "Oh, let swords, lusting, rage,
And thirsting deeply drink
As the glory of kings is yet again
By the blood of children authored.
Then walked I 'mongst the torn and sacred dead
Through a sea of gore and Glory served...and
Came upon a writhing form whom playful Death had not full claimed
As charred lips mouthed their sad entreating:
"Grant me, sir, some kind embrace, and a hand not raised in wrath-
for now I die, all dreams undone, as forlorn seas strong beckon."
And then, another broken form lied grasping a comrade's dead limp hand
Whose emptied eyes now stared afixed upon some nameless moment of Eternity,
Lifeless, cold, and sad, unknowing the touch of the lover's dying kiss
Collapsing, still, and quiet atop him...
A father stooped to lift the head of his precious shattered boy,
As with Grief's awkward tenderness his fine locks stroked,
And hoped some life to thereby confer...
And a crescendoing rumble filled the valley. For Ares laughed.
Then I saw a spectral legion and asked of their shadowed ranks-"Where do you march, of
Withered souls?"
"To the House of Death and Tears...alas, to Death and tears."
Behind them not too much afar, with the clamouring of bugles and the thunder of drums rose
once more the strident cry:"To Glory's Gate!" as in witness the Dead sighed and Ares bellowed
in his mirth...