Best Sees Poems
To be at peace with myself again..
To ..
Smell the scent of fresh-cut grass
Hear the crunch of falling leaves
Wear garlands of yellow daises
Feel the crisp air of the breeze.
Taste the rain upon my tongue
as drops drizzle on my lips
Run barefoot in fields of green
Welcome back the bird song bliss.
Leave behind shallow mud puddles
Roll-up track pants to my knees
Be happy with who I am
and the simple life I lead.
Because...
In simplicity lives memories
of who we were back then
Before adulthood took over
Kidnapped each sweet boy and girl.
Oh this little girl inside me
In dark woods it begs and screams
She knows nothing of the cluttered world
Her young heart belongs to dreams.
Her thoughts as snow Untainted!
Her words are loud and clear.
The sky she sees is beautiful
and love is everywhere.
PS: Just a simple poem :)
Strangers are attacking me;
ruthless men seek my life—
men without regard for God. Selah
Psalm 54:3
GOD SEES THE COURAGEOUS AT WORK
Wild-eyed disregard for God —
The mocking tone, the spittoon.
The leering eyes —
they’re tiger’s eyes.
They plop near the weights —
the courageous snakes, and
throw balls of cannon smoke.
They hope that we will choke.
The courageous throw acid
in a virgin’s angelic face.
The courageous pounds their rusted
nails into fragile wrists and ankle saints —
these innocents whose haloed guardian’s
see the illuminated face of almighty God.
The courageous divide fetus parts,
roll them like dice, put them on display.
The courageous pillage, rape and sodomize
thinking if there’s a God, he will see it as sport.
They drink deeply the heart blood and soul
but none can escape the Ancient of Days.
Life is a pit, a mere hole for the courageous
to drown. They’ve looked for a fiery dragon
And he’s been found, awaiting the demise
of as many curs-ed petals he can find.
Selah…
if only for a moment the dead blinked,
the light of day might have saved their hide.
The brokenhearted will feast at the King’s table.
with no need to fear when evil is deceased.
9/24/2019
Knowing She Sees How Deeply She Is Missed
(Tribute To That Greatest Of Love, A Mother's)
Blue-cold morns rising to light a fire
mother, cooked on wood stove truly ancient.
She out of sweetest of love's truest desire
provided nourishing food so patient.
Not asking praise for her unselfish deeds
washing dirty clothes in an old wash-pan.
By love's examples she planted new seeds
windy-flames of reliance such did fan.
Now time, with its many decades have flown
beloved mom, passed on to her reward.
We, her thriving huge brood, are now all grown,
feel her love and know why she worked so hard.
Knowing she sees how deeply she is missed
we thank her, each beloved face she kissed.
Robert J. Lindley, 8-11-2017
SONNET, (Tribute to our mother and to mothers everywhere, THAT SACRIFICE WITH THE DEEPEST OF UNSELFISH LOVE FOR THEIR CHILDREN)
------
I started this poem back in May, 2017. I finished the last two verses this morn.
Hesitant to post because I feel it is not worthy enough but alas (!), I also know with my meager writing talent , I can do no better.
Thus, with my wife's prodding, I post and pray it is deem worthy as a tribute by all that read and love ever so dearly their own wonderful and loving mothers!
Beauty That Rivals The Red Rose
He the gardener she the rose
She was only flower he chose
Days he gave her his very best
Under moonlight glow they both rest.
With great care he keeps her from harm
Always enamored by her charm
Whenever she mentions her thirst
Sate her needs, he is always first.
At dawn's first calling she wakes up
Her petals with his hands he cups
With true love, admiring her grace
This dark world together they face.
His life for her beauty so fair.
Together, love's beauty they share.
Robert J. Lindley, 8-10-2017
Cyhydedd Fer Sonnet,
8 syllable lines
.. a. a. b. b. . . c. c. d. d. . . e. e. f. f. . . g. g
Syllables Per Line: 8 8 8 8 0 8 8 8 8 0 8 8 8 8 0 8 8
Total # Syllables: 112
Total # Words: 88
(Invisibility)
In a busy time, we forget to see "the human and beautiful nature"
forget to breathe ...
We follow the "red arrows" ... and "the power of money"
Live and die of stress and loneliness -
It doesn't matter if it's day or night -
No one sees you ...
Like dust grains in dumbness
Don't be afraid to go into taciturnity
It will create depth in the relationship with yourself
Hush, hush ... listen ... time of harmony
Seek and allow for pearls of muteness
Some brief moments of stillness
Busy people and orchids still breathe
Blessed pockets that provide power,
strength and muscle relaxation
When reusing the colors from the last sunset
The eyes of the cube quietly closed
No ransom requirement, or red arrows
13/10/2019
Sun :) - A-L Andresen :)
Copyright © All Rights Reserved
God Sees the Scars
When someone close has proved untrue,
Betrayed your simple trust...
Used you for their selfish ends and
Trampled in the dust
The past, with all its memories,
And all its treasured ties,
The Light is blotted from the sky -
For something in you dies.
Red and deep our wounds may be-
But after all the pain,
God's own finger touches us
And we are healed again.
With faith restored,
And trust renewed
We look towards the stars...
The world will see the smiles we have, but
God will see the scars.
Secrets,
now memories,
piggybacked through summer.
On handlebars, calloused fingers
steered dirt bikes to an emerald kingdom.
Two boys, on tree stump thrones, ruled worms
unearthed with splendid crowns
of sundrenched leaves,
carefree.
Written 2/27/17
Emma saw the light on that Sunday bright.
Her hands, they were folded, and knees bent right.
She smiles at the Pastor’s words.
The sun through the window stirred.
A slip up of epic proportions - quite!
Up front, in the center of congregants,
a holiness plagues, as the church does chant.
In sheer white she forgot slip.
Her blush is the shade of RIP.*
She slinks from her seat, in a hurried slant.
2/27/2021
Two Limericks - Let's have some Fun!
Sponsor Tania Kitchin
HMS 10/10/7/7/10 per verse
*RIP for Rest In Peace.
Boys on bicycles
stop for a rest in the woods.
Friendship is growing.
The sun of their childhood streams
through trees verdantly glowing.
March 16, 2017 for the Contest of Mystic Rose
Blind...with the beauty and symmetry of nature
Can't espy the astonishing and sedate scenes of ardor
Just living with the greatest and blindest darkness
Imageless and almost senseless...
Deaf...with the mellifluous and profound music of amity
Can't harken the serene and blithe tune of natural creativity
Just living with my own nothingness
Dumb and almost senseless...
Mute...can't explode feelings and heartstrings through words and expositions
Can't speak and expound my real emotions
Can't shout out loud,just living with silence - soundless
Dumb and almost senseless...
Paralyzed...can't accomplish what was desired to achieve
Can't act,can't execute,can't move - there's no relieve
Just living with myself,occupied by loneliness
Cripple and now USELESS
Balked,feeble,depraved,weak - a YOUNG LOOSER
But will never SURRENDER
Still BREATHING
BELIEVING...
KNEELING...
PRAYING...
***coz' GOD knows...
"The Mirror of Lost Sees: Theophany"
The You in me
possessor of knowledge
heir of the prophets
I Am, the friend of He
the me in You, waits patiently
watching you unveil in
the Mirror of Lost Sees
The Possessor of Unveiling
unseen You are in the mirror
walking corridors and highways
within Me, I Am
returning barefoot Home
walking on burning coals
set along the common road
by those warring brides
soap boxes set high and clean
competing saintly hypocrisy
religiously the learned scholars
look towards the Sun
for an unknown face
with one name
What burns inside
a body of limited time
hidden deep behind
the windows slowly opening
Truth sees watching soulfully
this is where the face is found
too bright to see
wrapped and shrouded
interred eternal
within You
I Am You
that I am
and You
are Me
Theophany
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"One day Rumi was reading next to a large stack of books. Shams Tabrizi, passing by, asked him, "What are you doing?" Rumi scoffingly replied, "Something you cannot understand." (This is knowledge that cannot be understood by the unlearned.) On hearing this, Shams threw the stack of books into a nearby pool of water. Rumi hastily rescued the books and to his surprise they were all dry. Rumi then asked Shams, "What is this?" To which Shams replied, "Mowlana, this is what you cannot understand." (This is knowledge that cannot be understood by the learned.)"
If an ant says that it loves the whole universe with it's tiny heart
chance is there that men will smile if hear it's soundless voice
The almighty omnipresent supreme God has given full freedom to all to love all
there's no barrier to any creature sees only the feeling of soul
HE STILL SEE’S ME!
The sun follows her shadow
and backlights her aging hair
She emits the warmth of God’s
Justice, wisdom, love, and care.
Her aging eyes light up air
When she’s speaking of God’s Grace
Explains God’s love’s ...impartial
How embraces every race.
Truth shine’s from within her heart
When Bible truth’s tries to share
Into all men’s neighborhoods
“Jehovah’s name …proudly declares.
Still lives life with intention
God’s purposes loves to explain
God’s kingdom ...solves men’s problems
Paradise will exist again!
Faith and trust ignite her hope
Believes when dies in grave she’ll sleep
Earthly resurrection loves preach
God wakes dead… His promise keeps.
The She is Me… a shadow
Of teacher I use to be
How grateful to Jehovah,
His “Witness”…He still see’s me!
Barbara Barry-Nishanian
Feb.16, 2018
You might find this tid bit
A bit hard to believe
But I swear my cat sees thing
That I ain't never seen
I'm thinking that it's spirits
Floating all around
You can most often tell
With her constant peculiar meows
She'll sit there and she'll stare
At one spot to no end
It seems to me it must be the dead
As sure as I now live
Or when she ups and jumps
Batting at nothing but thin air
I doubt that it's the micro dust
But rather the spirits floating there
I know that all cats automatically come
With a total of nine lives
Which leaves me to often wonder
How many live on the other side
Yes, my cat sees ghosts
But you would never know
Cause she seems to see the strangest things
That no human eye could ever hope
Your words fly through the clouds
Our poetry lands on God’s auspicious lap.
Is it truly laudable and magnificent… or..
To His face, do you give God a slap?
Do you words raise souls to dwell on beauty.
Or drag souls down to hell ,to not glow?
But shine with dark, lowlife Satanic horns.
And comments that applaud evil’s glow?
Inspired by Robert Hinshaw
Faithful Friend
Poet of Highest Integrity
7/14/2023
My Heart sees beauty daily pass me by,
And does not grieve nor stop to make lament,
For I have in my Heart a single eye,
That makes me know that all my love is spent
Upon the One whose face I carry still,
Which illness, fate and fortune cannot mar,
I see her Beauty reign when she is ill,
And my Heart’s bruises set a higher bar.
I must learn how Love tenderly caresses
The face of pain, disfigured by estate.
I must find my way up out of the ditches
And never curse, but bravely bear Heart’s fate.
For I have seen the throne of Beauty reign,
It has done so before, and will again.
January 2, 2019