Best Sceptre Poems
Darkness descends,
And the destination lies far behind
God! Let the fire that burns in you eternal ,
Which is the only true fire,
Light up my eyes to perceive the right from the wrong,
The genuine from the sham.
I ask Thee, blaze my spirit with your fire
So that I get the prudence to escape the snares
Laid by wolves in lambs' clothing.
I ask Thee, the courage to dissent,
When forced to act out against my will.
The glitter of gold or the sceptre of power
Let them not dissuade me from my resolve.
I ask Thee, to grant me the fire,
So that I get the power to resist,
Justice denied, rights violated,
The weak exploited, the poor smothered,
The innocent accused and the guilty acquitted.
I await the true fire to ignite my whole being,
As the darkness of gloom envelops my spirit
Where fear like worms eat into my core.
I await the eternal fire to break into me,
To see myself bare and naked!
My cavernous interiors hide designs - malign.
How I put on appearances to suit my designs!
As I burn in the fires of worldly passions
Oh Lord, send the flames of your fire,
And with their tongues, swallow the darkness within.
March.6.2023
~ Placed Fifth
What Fire is Eternal Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Joe Maverick
Christ, the King of kings
Of whom my soul sings
Born in a manger
His life in danger
No palace, no bed
No place to lay head
Walking everywhere
No carriage to spare
Riding a donkey
No horse ride swanky
A crown of sharp thorns
The King's head adorns
A reed placed in hand
Not a sceptre grand
Scarlet robe mocking
Such treatment shocking
He endured all pain
And then rose again
One day, He'll return
World to overturn
The King glorious
Christ victorious
Money money, ringing in your tills,
Calling us to worship,
The hundred dollar bills.
Bend our knees in wonder,
Bow our heads in awe,
At the power of the liar,
Who now controls us all.
From the darkest deep caverns,
To the stars in the sky,
From the infinite universe,
To the strangers passing by.
From your inner most conviction,
To your laughing in the night,
From everything you 're seeing,
To everything out of sight.
The new God has risen,
To claim the holy throne,
The one that we have emptied,
Our hearts all cold as stone.
The throne that we have emptied,
We killed the rightful king,
Sold his crown an sceptre,
Pawned his sacred ring.
Raised his bleeding body,
Up on that bloody hill,
The silent lamb still bleeding,
As the money fills your tills.
"The Tudor Rose, The Lion and The Sceptre of Light"
God bless
The Queen
Shield of Tudor Rose
and Lion rampant
the 3 of Lionheart,
guardant passant
Unicorn and azure harp
rose and thistle stand
with shamrock, connected
wars and battles
conflicted, a home
not seamless,
stands firm, apart
sanctuary is never easy
when grief is the price
we pay for love
duty bound
for Love,
of Her dominion
and Her people
Lion and Lamb
above all others,
at all cost, to self
constant Her
selfless shield of duty,
brave royal heart
arms never folding
outstretched
open wide apart
dieu et mon droit
"God and my right"
before Life, it starts
God bless
The Queen,
a life long lived
walking towards
Her sovereign,
now in sight
calls to Her
as if She
were a child,
halo crown
sceptre of Light
The Lion passant
her mighty Sovereign,
King and Lord,
now in her sight
(LadyLabyrinth / 2022)
Queen Elizabeth II
(b. 21.4.26 - d. 8.9.22, 96Yrs)
(Elizabeth II 1926-2022)
Are we - crow, blackbird, sparrow -
aware of what's occurring?
We cannot tell, they assume,
but gape and gaze from up here.
This is a land with a departed monarch.
We - sparrow, blackbird, crow -
flit or sit above the richness
of that marching red regalia.
Thousands of arms stretch, sinews strain,
cameras are held aloft
to catch the start of this queen's obsequies,
such elegance, such grace.
We - blackbird, crow, sparrow -
observe orb and sceptre on the magnificent pall,
witness the splendour, the spectacle,
delight in the sound of vocal souls.
Millions have viewed that coffin.
We - crow, blackbird, sparrow - see them gaping, gazing,
with its eight pallbearers, in their blood-red flame,
as this Abbey welcomes what they carry.
(Sep 2022)
(You may wish to see also "Trooping the Colour" of June 2022 and "Coronation for a King" of May 2023)
14-03-2023
Clear cut diamond
530 carats gem
Mined in South Africa
Queen Elizabeth I wonder
How did you feel
Knowing The Great Star Of Africa was never yours
Did you think you would just bond
With it during your term
Or we would just forget that it came from Africa
You made a blunder
Which you never had to deal
With the day you accepted it its force
Elevated you even higher wherever you went
As it sparkled on your sceptre and on your head
It made you stand out in any room you find yourself or in any crowd
You spent
Your entire life mesmerized by it but now that you’re dead
And Charles is about to be crowned
King will he have the guts to bring it
Back home where it belongs
Will he finally see it fit
I wait for that day where the wrongs
You made are acknowledged and are made right
The road ahead isn’t easy but it looks bright
(when Esther went to ask the King without him inviting her) – Esther 5:2 And it was so, when the king saw Esther the queen standing in the court, that she obtained favour in his sight: and the king held out to Esther the golden sceptre that was in his hand. So Esther drew near, and touched the top of the sceptre.
Her heart thumped, thundering inside
While she tried to snub her fear – would it ever subside?
Her fears were like liquid fire, stirring dread
It could be mere moments before she’d be dead
She picked up her thoughts and whispered a prayer
Releasing her anxiety to God who wouldn’t let her despair
Her life hung in the balance as she walked into the room
Where her husband could easily tell her she shouldn’t presume
Her life was merely a vapor and it might be snuffed out
Because she’d taken the chance, proving she was devout
Her king sat on his throne, but would he offer his favor?
Only the Lord knew, but for Esther it could be a life saver
Oh, amazingly, God was with her and the king lifted his sceptre
Showing her that he surely loved her and he’d kindly accept her
Time was on her side and her courage would save this race
The children of Isreal, God’s people, thanks to heaven’s grace
Esther showed us that, sometimes, bravery is in God’s plan
She gave no thought to her own life, and that’s where hope began
Because she was a great warrior who lived her life for the Lord
There is no doubt that, through her, He was praised and adored
Never forget to listen to the still, small voice in your soul
The One who loves to tell you just how you can be made whole
Listen with a heart that is believing and willing to change
With the faith that can move mountains, His counsel isn’t that strange
Her heart thumped, thundering inside
While she tried to snub her fear – would it ever subside?
Her fears were like liquid fire, stirring dread
It could be mere moments before she’d be dead
A twelve year old boy, village-bred and very shy
Having but token familiarity with buses, routes and places
Escorts his mom’s mom, very sick and about to die
To the town forty kms and four hours away those days
Involving three buses, two junctions needing directions
And a km on foot, where her other two daughters lived.
She sat on the road and vomited, so bad was her condition,
The boy waited without a thought till she once again moved.
Finally on reaching the house wanted, everyone there was aghast
On how we two made it and critical of my mother’s foolishness
In entrusting a boy who knew next to nothing with such a task.
(But mom with none to help did what she thought right in all seriousness)
Grand ma gets promptly admitted in a hospital nearby.
Along with others, the boy goes to see her daily. On the third
She pleads with him to stay back with her that night
But, no, he runs away because he wanted to play with the other kids.
He never knew she was going to die that night till he was woken up
To board the ambulance which was taking her dead
Back to her native village, and the boy who sat with her was I.
My dad’s dad was dead before I was born
But about him I used to hear a lot all through my life
Because he was a big landlord who owned a village
Of twelve hundred acres, as the head of a joint family
He was a monarch of sorts, albeit, without a sceptre and crown.
Trained in herbal medicines, which he dispensed for free,
And a scholar in astrology and all those esoteric things
And a man of great virtues, he was much sought after.
Then suddenly the rules changed and the system
Of joint families went and after partitioning his estates
Among his kinsfolk , without taking an inch of land for himself,
He shifted to his wife’s place where too they fed a hundred daily
But they fell on hard times with the litigations that followed
The new laws which ruined families and my grandpa died poorer .
Masai Boyfriend
I’m in love with a Masai Boy
Tall sable-skinned giant.
In hand, a stick his joy
Smile; true lips of a saint!
Wealth: bull, cow and calf
Safe from creatures feline
Identity, not Masai by half
But, nomad of a royal line.
Sceptre; his wooden sticks
Royal Cloth, the red robes...
Savouring gore with licks
Logs stuck in his earlobes.
“Stands with imposing height
“Scanning the Masai Mara
“On a leg of striking might!”
So writes his lover Clara.
“High Jumper of renown,”
Again, she sent the tweets,
“Sound sleep have I known
“He jumps inside sheets!”
**With Love & Respect for the exemplary fortitude of Kenyan Cultures, whose “imposing height” (evocative of the Masai) is a pride of Human sanctity.
**The Poem is a reflection of, sometimes, a cross-culture and cross-racial marriages that, despite diversity in norms, may bestow a fantastic experience and everlasting bliss.
**With happy memories of my Friend, Gerald Kithinji, a Patriotic Poet of Kenya (his beautiful Homeland.)
JM
02nd Nov’ 2013
The orb and sceptre, ring and crown
each with its cross adorned,
displayed the rule of Christ alone
to mark your fealty sworn.
But stripped to simple linen gown
and hidden from this globe,
for power to serve your earthly throne
the oil of heaven flowed.
You sought to serve Him set apart
not bound by duty on your own,
but strengthened firm and from His heart
to bear your heavy crown.
We shall not see your like again
defender of the faith,
who served your God through every strain
and subjects here beneath.
God helped you keep your solemn vow,
God saved our gracious queen.
God keep you in our hearts as now,
and after you have been.
As your eyes face the light,
Angels roar in sheer delight,
Hymns of prowess fill the air,
A life is born to slay despair
Hear the winds, dance and breathe,
Feel their joyous, tender breeze,
Watch the moon smile and pray,
For the moon, was born today
As the golden bricks join hands,
While building us our kingdom’s lands,
Watch as fate embraces our souls,
And gets our hearts in love to fall
Listen close, as our hearts concord,
Three hundred beats, so far ignored,
Touch my hand, feel its veins dance,
Behold as my soul is enthralled and tranced
Oh moon of my life, let’s not lament,
Bathe your skin in your man’s scent,
Wear his lips as your sceptre and crown,
Dive in my blood, and you shan't drown
I look for words but words betray,
And so I’ll ask, I’ll ask away,
I shan't ask for affection,
Nor shall I for fame,
But I wrote my name on your lips
May I kiss my name?
Godfather
A rigid neck that looks forward without turning
Till the face is flat pummelled by angry elements
Whose twinkly eyes neither blink nor steal a hood
In case, in a split second, humanity is left insecure.
Whose time to eat is not on his busy schedule-
Morsel may briefly quieten voice to teach Piety.
Would I, therefore, find any fault with that stoicism
Or in his static quick march- marching at a halt
(Until there is a hole enough to ooze a cool pat!)
His momentary reprieve; gone to some chores
Might subject the brood to threat unthinkable.
For his perpetual presence and open guidance
Is as assuring the billboard pointing the Way!
Dr. Ram Mehta, Billboard in the wet, cold rain
Who holds post to, once again, direct others
Soaked by the cold rain, yet with a heart satisfied
For the Duty to save others and not save yourself!
Should, godfather, a blink you chance or steal
Cares of this World may, by stealth, quietly visit
And warp our convictions with wicked murmurs
Murmurs that drip honey which sips into hearts
Turning us into a heap of salt for looking backwards!
My eyes I do pledge to look no any other direction
Except to the way by your long finger is pointed
And, to fawn on the Spirit that nurtured you this long
With bonhomie, discernment and poetic prowess!
Prayer with no end I utter beseeching, godfather,
On that Day, to inherit the Sceptre you’re holding!
***Dedication to one and only Dr. Ram Mehta for the invaluable guidance his sublime poems bestow.
JM
24th Nov’ 2013
Through seventy years of change,
Orb and sceptre in your hands,
Serving your people, young and old,
You have reigned over these lands.
To duty called when you were young,
You took the oath in Edwards chair.
The crown sits well upon that head
That doth its precious weight still bear.
A beacon to your people,
To all your commonwealth,
You show us what devotion means
To something beyond self.
Prime ministers and presidents
Have graced your royal court
Charities from every sphere
Your patronage have sought.
A mother and a grandmother,
A loyal and loving wife.
A Queen with whom the nation
Shared the milestones of your life.
You could not give us any more,
You’re an example to us all.
Of the meaning of self sacrifice
That answer”s duty’s call.
You too have suffered pain and loss,
Part of life’s kaleidoscope.
You empathise, you sympathise,
You bring a nation hope.
You’ve led us in remembrance
At war’s sad and bitter loss,
You’ve shed tears at the cenotaph,
For the fallen and the lost.
You truly are respected
By every generation,
For standing by your people,
For fulfilling your vocation.
Not for ourselves alone are we
Born to this life we’re given
You’ve shown us what can be achieved
If we too are truly driven.
You”re our pride and our identity
Loved and held in great respect.
History will remember you
As our beloved “Lillibet.”
We celebrate these seventy years,
Your Platinum Jubilee.
And I, for one, am glad to be,
A subject of your majesty.
“Ghost Bees”
Inside damned to Hell
The Man walks free
Outside he discovers
what monsters are waiting
to ingest his brain cells
Like bees bury their youth in wax
In the centre surrounded by worker words
sings the ancient Queen
Waiting for prodigy to banish her
from broken rules, the new Bee claims her seat
Love’s throne and sceptre,
Supersedure
Honeycomb in the open carcass
of a Lion’s split and pillaged ribs
dripping tales of evil deeds done
He reaches in and scoops
out his bitter feast
The Man in a Box
Dead Man Walking
shuffles his feet home
down in a hole
Outside him
life is moving
Inside him, life has ceased
Inside the box he is placed
by the banished Queen
who has swallowed the key
Sinking to endless depths
inside her ocean of salty tears
death and treasure boxes locked
There lies lost time and
unopened dreams
Inside damned to Hell
The Man in the Box
Walks free, swarmed and stung
by all of her burning
Ghost Bees
riddled and leering
in a book of judges
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
“When, like the bee, tolling from every flower
The virtuous sweets,
Our thighs with wax, our mouths with honey pack’d,
We bring it to the hive, and, like the bees,
Are murd’red for our pains.”
“Man in a Box”, Alice in Chains
https://youtu.be/Opzq-hxYgfE
"Down in a Hole", Alice in Chains
https://youtu.be/gWUZHVT-qQY
Lyrics/Down in a Hole, Alice Chains
https://genius.com/Alice-in-chains-down-in-a-hole-lyrics
"Down in a hole and I don't care if I can be saved
See my heart I decorate it like a grave
Down in a hole and they've put all their stones in their place
I've eaten the Sun so my tongue
has been burned of the taste"
“Out of one who eats came something to eat;
out of the strong came something sweet.”
Passing of an Icon
An accomplished Lady of recondite letters
Writing humanity to free from its fetters-
From your clever Prose being deciphered,
With skewed minds, is where you differed.
And where, with prejudice, our minds think
Fellow Human beings can foul or sting
Indeed, there the Grass can loudly Sing!
Your discerning Eye and your sharp Wit
Endowed your firm hand with incisive writ-
Doris Lessing, rendezvous of every culture,
You ardently celebrated the pen’s rupture
With that broad mind and feminine looks
Reminiscent of the Golden Notebooks(s);
Thrall from callous confines of Cookbooks!
Doris the Amazon, you were sadly dismissed
Yet, in our hearts you’ll be happily missed;
The Vim, the Spirit, and your Idiosyncrasy
Will be cherished as our invaluable legacy:
Of a male Chauvinist or me a cold raptor,
From time immemorial, being a cruel captor,
To bow stepping forward to accept the Sceptre!
**Dedicated to the Great Writer; Doris Lessing, upon her passing on at her home on 17/11/2013.
JM