Best Smelter Poems
Though you are but a stranger to me, I offer you a kiss.
And though I’ve never met you, I know you and what you’re searching.
Look tenderly at me, and you will find it.
It is in me what you, stranger, yearn for most.
I’ll quench your thirst, I’ll satisfy your craving.
For in that great smelter that forged your feet and eyes, was forged the small seed that gave me life.
We’re brethren, stranger. I am you.
He, She, they, them, their or choices .
I wonder if your world is round or maybe not because probably your mind is cubical , you are a dice, it is as similar as the dice given as an example of cube , a cube which is closed , has defined corners and one measurement perhaps it would have been better if we could deter to these bold and times old Indian fonts of sterotyped examples and ask for more pentagons and circles which were ***** , just like me .
You love explaining area and mensuration with examples of a gender entangled bangle , a match box that dosent match me , and an unwise dice but little did you realise that you have yourself become a box of typical undynamic identities , closed and formalised with prejudiced formulas of measurement .
So I want to switch your camera from portrait view to a panoramic view to notice that I am a decagon , difficult to the vocabulary of a polygon and unacceptable to the category of human.
Maybe I know that now you are old enough and you've learned about this ***** trans decagon like me but still when you hear about polygons and humans , your answers are straight line segments of triangles & squares and straight people whose gender binary is fair , well unfair to the notions of identity which remains undefined for not just me but also you swinging between choices of being extremely feminine on some days and masculine on others .
You see the problem with this arrangement is confusion of building a glass wall of hatred for people we find strange to our little knowledge of normal , so we assume them to be an abnormal comfort smelter , stone pelter , destined to give us a discomforting experience of flawed birth , flawed to our little knowledge of what's correct .
Them , their , he , She , her aren't identities but preferred pronouns which is a very basic question out of our mean calculative binary syllabus , but a question meant to be inculcated in our cubical boxed syllabus because earth is round and endless and so are my choices .
Purge
Unburden
Refine
Improve
Free
Immaculate
Expiate
Deliver
1 John 1:9
9 If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive us our sins and purify us from all unrighteousness.
1 John 1:7New
But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another, and the blood of Jesus, his Son, purifies us from all sin.
Malachi 3:3
"He will sit as a smelter and purifier of silver, and He will purify the sons of Levi and refine them like gold and silver, so that they may present to the LORD offerings in righteousness.
Hebrews 1;3
The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation of his being, sustaining all things by his powerful word. After he had provided purification for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven. Amen
If it comes from a plant or grows from the ground,
Whose to govern it, when you talk its just sound
My life is spinning out of control,
And on my body its taking its toll,
I need the perfect fix and it must come quick,
I hope these feelings dont stay im scared it will stick,
I understand why so many people take their lives,
Its so hard to speak up but really who will hear our cries,
Too many people begin to demonize,
But its us inside ourselves not who you see in our eyes,
Our enemies exist and they are all within,
But i try my hardest to just cop it on the chin,
Its been one and a half decades since ive been right,
But i wont let you see it ill keep it out of sight,
For the most part i do i try to be happy,
Yet at times like this i just feel so crappy,
If i take my life will you feel pain,
I hope the reaction wont be like a chain
Eventually these feelings will disappear from me again,
And i wiil feel good like ive risen from a crane,
These feelings come and go just like the side gate,
I just hope that it works out and will not be too late
I have hope for a more natural life in the end,
I hope that its not far away that its just around the bend,
I love to be free with no worries for me,
Just like the tides when you go out to the sea,
I feel at home more so when in the bush,
I just wish life was easy and not turn to mush
I want to live as free as a bird,
But it is so hard when i feel like a turd,
I have a place im building a shelter,
But yet somehow my heart continues to smelter
Setting sun carved a path over the Humber
From Hessle right across the river bend
To join the banks at Ferriby Foreshore
Where that path came to its end.
The great smelter chimney
Rising there darkly up high
Sent its stream of carcinogenic smoke
Crawling across the reddening sky.
The resident old transvestite man,
Beach combing the bank for wood
Let the small boat he pulled drift so it
Crossed the path from where I stood.
To my rear the Bridge dominated
Striding the river from side to side
Then the longest in the world
With its span totalling a mile wide.
That strange mixture of past and present
Not there to be seen anymore
For the smelter was pulled down
And taken to pollute a foreign shore;
And the old man in his strange garb?
Not even sure if he’s still here.
I’ve not walked that old path
For far too many years.
But the bridge, now second biggest,
Still spans the waterway
Carrying the road’s traffic
Day after day after day.
A hush in the gathering darkness.
Fading to silence bird song.
And as the sun lowered to earth
My scarlet path was gone.
FEELINGS
Have you ever had the feeling,
That can upset and send you reeling,
Like you're being watched and don't know why?
Like someone's out to get you,
Like they'd really like to hurt you,
And you'd better watch your back by and by?
Most often it means nothing,
But sometimes it could be something,
Your sixth sense is telling you to peel your eyes.
You don't have to get defensive,
Let yourself become too pensive,
But for sure a bit of vigilance applies;
But if you let it get you down,
That others are around,
Who wish you ill without good reason then they've won.
Just treat others as you would be,
And your enemies will soon see,
All their efforts at discourse have come undone;
For their lies will come to nothing,
If you make sure they see something,
In your life that gives you peace no matter what,
And they will want it too,
Some may come and talk to you,
To find out just what it is they haven't got;
For the Lord will be your shelteer,
Through the storms of life, a smelter,
And you'll come through it all as purest gold.
What don't kill you makes you stronger,
And your life will be much longer,
If you let The Shepherd keep you in His fold.
Judy Ball
"PUT ON THE FULL ARMOR OF GOD THAT YOU MAY BE ABLE TO STAND FIRM AGINST
THE SCHEMES OF THE DEVIL. FOR OUR STRUGGLE IS NOT AGAINST FLESH AND
BLOOD, BUT AGAINST THE RULERS, AGAINST THE POWERS, AGAINST THE WORLD
FORCES OF THIS DARKNESS, AGAINST THE SPIRITUAL FORCES OF WICKEDNESS IN
THE HEAVENLY PLACES."
Ephesians 6:11-12
Change my mind, my heart, my soul
I wonder if I am broken
Challenge my thoughts, my spirit, my pride
I still have not yet spoken
Take my hand and pull me near
But be aware that I might fear
The closeness that comes with touching.
Tell me your secrets, tell me your lies
your deepest thoughts are nothing in size
to what I feel
to what I dream
to why and what
and when I leave
this world behind and move along
I may be mistaken,
But I'm not wrong
These words are my attempt to change
a person who was once a slave
to who she did not know
A story told, a story lost
a compromise of pen and thoughts
I cannot even begin to show
of who is what and what I know
Trying gets me closer, true
But emotions still get caught
deep inside they smelter
my dying ember of a heart.
Now hope is gone
but yet it's found
It reawakens with the sound
of life beating my mind awake....
With flaming pen
The beast inside me scratches to remove,
Fingers pulsing with my heartbeat growing
What will prove
To quit and quiet or sparkle softly,
In the distant night.
What would it prove to cater to
Such shallowness as one’s delight.
When beasts burst forth exploring every pore.
Scattered scallions
Relinquish the air to moan.
Even the box
Is outside the box
At Heaven’s gate deluxe;
To remove the pitied eye and stand forth naked.
I do hate, I am human, After all.
Who was it again that witnessed the fall?
Well, we all sag weary against the ropes
When each rose uncoiled clings,
The jaded blackbird sings, and
Pie-in-the-sky magpies flap their useless wings.
Look in the mirror at the naked scourge behind you.
Listen to the pounding of the drums of your doom.
There isn’t any room.
Not the slightest wiggling inch
Of breath or sound or excluded pinch;
When we shout Holy Hell,
Holy Haunted Hell, After all.
The messenger in all of us
That wakens a sleeping sickness of liquid pus,
Of bruised and startled semen-egg to mark its choice.
Heavenly Father where the hell is your voice?
Aloud, Aloud, After all.
Meekness protruding from some dark and brooding
Corner of misunderstanding.
Comes the Death; Comes the Light;
Comes the Commanding Voice.
Return once more to the core of all confusion.
Take back the shelter and reign in the smelter
Of Christ’s own blend of defiance.
Be in Death or Life or Hell
On Faith be our reliance.
And in the end of all, after alls,
We find yet another broken appliance.
Have you ever had the feeling,
That can upset and send you reeling,
Like you're being watched and don't know why?
Like someone's out to get you,
Like they'd really like to hurt you,
And you'd better watch your back by and by?
Most often it means nothing,
But sometimes it could be something,
Your sixth sense is telling you to peel your eyes.
You don't have to get defensive,
Let yourself become too pensive,
But for sure a bit of vigilance applies;
But if you let it get you down,
That others are around,
Who wish you ill without good reason then they've won.
Just treat others as you would be,
And your enemies will soon see,
All their efforts at discourse have come undone;
For their lies will come to nothing,
If you make sure they see something,
In your life that gives you peace no matter what;
And they will want it too,
Some may come and talk to you,
To find out what it is they haven't got;
For The Lord will be your shelter,
Through the storms of life, a smelter,
And you'll come through it all as purest gold.
What don't kill you makes you stronger,
And your life will be much longer,
If you let The Shepherd keep you in His fold.
MYSTERIOUS MEMORIES
November night train halted on the bridge.
Arrested by constant mystery of river, I see
Her mercurial charm changing.
Winter is late this year. Her heavy liquid metal gell
Is preparing itself for frozen solidity.
Smelter-poured burnished silver coats the watery mirror
With deep reflections, and shadows of the past, like
Grandma’s old silver - precious, shining and
Lying mysterious in darkness in the half-open cutlery drawer.
With the blackness of mercury, liquid in low slow waves,
And the heaviness of lead swirling sluggishly
In the cooling mould, river is not yet plunged, solidified.
Unseen fish ripple her surface and are gone in near-inaudible pitch.
Her night voice murmurs low, indistinct in the dark’s metallic silence.
In the moving welcoming river, dark mystery unknowable.
From the bridge, the same timeless picture
Recast each day as the watery mirror changes.
Now stormy, now peaceful, now romantic, now sad.
Life’s picture changes constantly with time.
Stability in the changing life stream
Is like a window image in the night train,
Whose outside scene changes but inside image is constant.
wet stormy night flames dreamy eyes
intimate and wiful, jazz foreplayed.
disheveled air breezes wanton replies
candlewax melt in stardust serenade.
moon looks so close, though far away
in roving wind, wild seeds all scattered.
tranquil lips quiver, hesitant to stay
in ecstatic beats, heart pitter pattered.
almond eyes smelter soft auburn hair,
as world disappears in sudden free fall.
an electrified magic, waltzes everywhere,
two gentle loving souls,... too wild to stall.
17th April 2019
Have you heard the story,
Of Stink, Stank, and Stunk?
The one of a kind, bonafide,
Three headed Skunk.
Stink was on the left,
Stunk was on the right.
Leaving Stank in the middle,
With no peripheral sight.
They always disagreed,
On who was in the lead.
Each vying for the spot,
Unwilling to concede.
They'd go round and round,
With tail in the air.
Snapping at each other,
And ripping out their hair.
But it never did fail,
After lifting their tail.
Would spray a triple dose,
Oh man, what a smell.
It'd bring you down to size,
Putting tears in your eyes.
The stench was so bad,
It would even kill flies.
If they ever come near,
You'd better disappear.
Just run for your life,
Till the coast is clear.
A hot day and a smelter
Is it in Qatar, or in Dubai a friendly aluminum
smelter for sale, the one in the picture on a TV add
looks ok
Now that my wife is on holiday with her aunt I cruse
on the TV, but this is the first time I have come across
a smelter of aluminum
I buy food at the deli and warm it at home, taste
remarkable like my wife's cooking, not that I have seen
her peeled potatoes.
She hollers, come and get it and slams the cooking
lids together
I have had many cars, old ones, mainly because
I can't afford the taxi fare, I have no money to
buy a new car.
Aluminum smelter!
Wouldn't that be amazing?
I met a man in a bar who said he was a retired poet
spent his time writing slogans on walls
I told him about the affable smelter in Dubai
the retired poet looked out of the window
picked up his notebook and took no interest
in my smelter
He had seen a donkey with a straw hat and
regretted his retirement
No one lit a match.
no lamp spilled,
the air kept kindling its hot heart,
it pulsed red all day
The heat-heavy evening slumped
toward a simmering earth,
clouds began to roil,
they swirled,
they broiled in a death dance
of fuming dragon tails,
a wounded flickering
that lashed out blindly.
We laid down our souls,
they were too hot to rescue.
We were weary, too numbed
to be either beasts or humans.
When the sun slowly fell,
carving its way
through the dark rims
of fiery hills,
a smelter of sweating rain
cut the strings of our voices
and revived us not.