Best Shrine Poems
I, griot, of the Hamitic shrine
I, oracle of the orisha's ebon throne
I, child, of Melchizedek line
I, olive tree in a desert sown
Mantled in the robe of his grace
Amid cherubic beasts all four
Upon golden ground bend my face
And felt his spirit in my core
I, messenger, I, human
I, frightened, shivering thing
I, the image sculpted in his hand
I, with longing for eagle's wing
Voice of the voiceless let me speak
Faith of the discourage, here, I kneel
Ragged in sins and broken weak
And still your anvil on me I feel
A full glass of red wine,
each time I choose to dine.
It always makes me feel fine,
as if I need it to always shine.
In my body, it builds a shrine:
it's my own sacred lifeline.
I got it from a grapevine,
A bond I entwine,
as now mine:
online
in line,
It's divine.
I can never again decline.
It isn't for a drinking spree.
A glass a day brings joy to me.
Not as much alcohol as in spirit,
to get drunk on it, I definitely flee.
so as to get good health for free
and light my heart up with glee.
Like taking a cup of tea.
Longlife, just the key,
Doctors' plea.
As I see.
I agree.
Let it be.
On my knee.
With health, can't be carefree.
Quote: “The forest is my loyal friend A Delphic shrine to me.” Emerson
Forest, a Delphic shrine,
In woods where shadows dance in dappled light,
The forest stands in depths of day or night,
Where secrets prevail in sky’s solitude.
Beneath the canopy of ancient trees,
Whose whispered tales caress the breeze's song,
The rustling leaves, a chorus soft and low,
Their wisdom echoes through the sylvan glade.
I roam in the enchanted verdant halls,
Struggling, and hoping,
Searching the hidden truths in your silent realm,
And the zephyr tells me,” Here your soul will find sweet solace”.
"Shrine"
There I was,
scattered,
the pieces of me
washing back
into the shore
I walked, again,
out of the ocean,
on different feet
and legs into
the other world,
where I began;
laid before me
a story unread,
somehow familiar,
an odd sacrament
on an alter
raised
for a bed,
to sleep
to dream
again,
I lay down
to rest my head,
so very very tired
perhaps alive
not dead,
just a space to dream,
to wake somewhere
in the in-between,
to converse
with the guardians
a mystery;
to secure through
contract
without token,
what was stolen,
the beautiful dream,
taken
back
again
in perpetuum mea
in perpetuum
in perpetuum filia mea
in perpetuum mea
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
"The Shrine Shining Symphony"
Portrait on the wall of heritage is a letter from you to me reverse your beautiful shrine shining symphony
(Lovejoy-Burton/2018 Jan)
"Letter to God" / Hole
https://youtu.be/eQS7_lOBbiI
dainty daisy sings
welcoming elusive spring
and clouds forming rings
chicks peek from warm nests
mother bird tiredly rests
robin puffs its chest
meadow with blooms shine
man for his lost lover pine
on nature's soft shrine
Ogun the god of Iron,
the day he was coming from Heaven to the World
he was clad in the burning cloth ,he wore the cloth of blood.
With his iron he made path for other gods.
A god that dares Ogun and asks who is he
shall soon perish in wilderness without trace.
Ogun has water at home but baths with blood,
he has cloth but covers himself with palmfonds.
Ogun drinks his wine not in glass but clabash.
Seven things I saw Ogun eat:
In a town call Ara Ogun ate male dog,
in a town call Ire Ogun ate bull-like-ram,
Ogun lord of circumcision ate snail,
Ogun lord of carpentry drank wood's fluid,
Ogun in the east ate horns of ram,
Ogun lord of tranportation ate roasted yam,
Ogun in foreign land has become Ogun in diaspora,
his food is simply the unknown.
Ogun is the lord of oath,
A child can btray all but not Ogun;
The lord of oath has no patience for the infidel.
East Jesus,
photo number 6.
Dec 21st,2014.
pink spiral stitches
macramed umbrella gilds
shrine to fertile spring
My hurt heart is soothed beneath
dewy, emerald
canopies
where pebbly pathways wind
around a shaded fountain
of peace.
A lotus pond meditates here.
A busy birdbath frolics
there.
Ah, what soft, serene solace,
light as a feather my
soul is!
Dear Mother, for a while now you’ve been gone.
Has time for you seemed long beyond the veil?
For those you left, time painfully goes on.
Oh, Mother, can you hear me where you dwell?
I wish to hear your voice again. How sweet
The sound of it each day when we awoke.
Its dulcet tone each afternoon would greet
us after school. How kind the words you spoke!
Your words would flutter like wings of a dove
When each of us received your goodnight kiss,
And gazing at our dad, your one true love,
Your words, unsaid, shone in those eyes I miss.
Your flowers’ scent I breathe in tenderly
while praying that your words drift down to me.
She has such beautiful eyes,
That proclaimed romance
This stance
Is not enough to praise
Her profound beauty.
Bleeding from the open door,
Her tears are swiftly serenading
the rhythm of life.
With a gentle apparel,
And beauty so fine,
With age became sweeter
With time it blossomed ripe.
She has such beautiful eyes
That I can built a shrine
Of love to glorify her..
Written by an Armenian Poet
Shiraz
Translated by Ernest Badounts
In the winter of eighteen thirty-six the historic siege began.
The Mexicans went three thousand strong with Santa Anna in command.
The Texians defending the mission numbered one hundred eighty-two
lead by Travis, Bowie, and Crockett, they vowed to see it through.
The Texians expected to be reinforced, but reinforcements never came.
In order to stall the Mexican advance, they decided to stay just the same.
Knowing they would probably not survive, they never considered to flee;
they selflessly made this sacrifice so fellow Texians could live free.
Legend says Travis took his sword and drew a line in the sand;
knowing that it meant certain death, the rebels crossed it to a man.
Whether the legend is true or not, cannot be verified,
but what we know from the history books is all the Texians died.
The assault commenced on the thirteenth day before the light of the sun.
Colonel Travis shouted, “Give ‘em hell” as the battle was begun.
The greatly outnumbered Texians fought with valor and pride.
They bravely stood their ground, but ‘twas a mere hour till the last one died.
Today the site in San Antone is viewed as hallowed ground;
the spirit of the heroes that died there can be felt in the air all around.
The old mission is viewed with great respect by all Texans down the line,
and all will tell you that the Alamo is a truly a Texas shrine.
Feeling , sweet love, Flowing upon soul like rippling Rhine
and body is gonna pine
I desire not to dine
I live on her eyes, smile and wine
either to win her heart or to die and buried in her love's shrine
"Shrine"
Messages delivered
Upon the wall of
your Shrine
Love
Shines through
Love
On bended knees
you'll see my feet
Inside
Out
There you will find me
Messages delivered
Messages received
In you there is
The Key
All Roads Lead Home
to
Me
Elemental
I am
seen through
the Sun
Earth, Air, Fire, Sea
The inner voice
you hear
All Roads Lead Home
to
Me
eventually
Love
Shines through
Love
unconditionally
Higher
vibrational
above
Inside
Out
All Roads Lead Home
to me
eventually
LOVE
(LadyLabyrinth / 2020)
"Null & Void: Where I Wait" - (feat. Dave Gahan) The Hacker Remix
https://youtu.be/hgXZZHiR7Vc
"Your words were spoken
Carefully chosen
For me
Each one a message
And insight
To some degree"
"Null & Void: Where I Wait" / Lyrics
https://genius.com/Null-void-where-i-wait-annotated
Embodying the human spirit, the inukshuk can serve as a spiritual symbol, a ceremonial site, a place of worship, a place of judgment and decision making or a site to gather and celebrate. Regardless of their function, inuksuit are venerated by the Inuit for their history and ancestral value.
sacred touchstone
hub of present and
generations past
Published in my photo/haibun anthologies ~PRIMITIVE~ 2019 and ~ANCESTRAL VOICES~ 2019
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
Posted on July 30, 2019