Best Soothsayers Poems
write to me in wanderlust waves
of wakeful worship,
weave me a wish
with moon pearls and promises
as I bloom attached
to your aesthetic accent ~
amidst the soul’s pulse,
still questioning ~ quivering,
in need of a colorful
constellation of consolation
to erase the
fickleness of fading flames…
I know, love searches
for your name, breathing
into the warmth of my want,
like verses coursing through
the veins of irreversible ink,
and if, to feel you closer,
I must compose you a cosmos,
let me seize teardrop crystals
of champagne chandeliers
and light up your dusk
with deafening desire ~
recklessly awaiting the surrender
of your sky to my silhouette…
but what would soothsayers
know of the circumference
of a romance immeasurable,
unstudied and unknown
to fortune whisperers
forsaking fortitude and faith ~
yet preaching dissolution
and dissociation,
as if eagle-feathered ego feasts
on the nest that has no place
for the gossamer greed
of maggots,
manifesting mere moments
calculated through concave curves…
watch me waltz away from
the wickedness of bruised bluebirds
thirsting through cheap thrills,
seeking sunlight
beyond the barks of bravery ~
their tiny toes
perched in absolute desperation…
you are mine ~
O herald of hypnotic horizons,
wearing my poetry
perfumed with painless purity…
with you
the handles of heaven are nearer,
as the pilgrimage of you and I
is a visceral vision
of an unapologetic ambience ~
that no twisted tongue can tweak,
nor moulded monologue
can ever distort ~
the truth of tattooed fealty ~
a love letter left in the
arms of timeless flow…
half-asleep
Though half asleep,
my mind discrete,
Does observe a stranger,
a face close by,
as i do sleep,
beside me,
cheek by cheek,
face by face,
no danger.
Who is this lady sweet devine,
Someone from another time,
To be there in my dreaming time?
A princess of soothsayers.
We come and go,
I almost know,
The veil parts,
an there you flow,
A Subtle sweet ironic show,
angelic thought,
her face a-glow,
I’m surely yet to know,
coming is a friend of long ago,
to fill the void,
of I won’t show,
my subtle thought arranger…
Don Johnson
She never knew she had them
that the basket had been placed
upon her past and future
by the color of her face
He gazed upon the sunrise
at the shadows walking thin
entering the schoolhouse
but they wouldn’t let him in
She had no shoes – no fancy dress
could not read the hymnals prayers
sat outside as music played
a welcome to soothsayers
He wore a ring of ever-dirt
from which he sought release
razor eyes forever searching
bringing hunger to the feast
Their talents were the seeds that fell
upon harsh and bitter ground
gifts that withered on the vine
a talents loss forever bound
contest - The Parable of the Talents
sponsor – Holly Hippocampus
©10/5/2018
I’m not an ego maniac
you know the type that gives others a heart attack
I get my vital nutrition
From a dietitian
Who only asks for my Submission
And he gives me the ambition
To fight back
On track
Promises me that I will never lack.
There’s a battle every time I wake
There’s a battle in every move I make
I am Jehovah's daughter
That’s why I can walk on water
I don’t need a psychic to read my palm
I have the prophecies, of his words, on my arm
I don’t need soothsayers to give me a premonition
I have fire from heaven that is my ammunition
Everywhere I turn their speaking death
It rains down until I have nothing left
Everyone is believing a lie
How can I sit back and watch as time goes by
The devil has sung many too sleep
Wake up, men of God; you’re being slaughtered like sheep
Resist the temptation
And have a deeper appreciation
For the lives placed in your hand
Or they’ll sink like quicksand
Into the abyss of despair
God’s presence isn’t there
This is a warning in these last days
To surrender your rebellious ways
Judgment is coming whether you believe it or not
Children of Niniva repent on the spot
And the God of "Mercy" will change his mind,
He calls out, “ Is there anyone I can find
That will abandon their ways and come into the light
Put on righteousness and fight this good fight?”
Spiritual anorexia
Emaciated the rest of you
Spiritual abortion
Has led many to extortion
Who will bow? Who will plead?
Save this generation which bleeds
Fathers gone estrange
Birthing violence that’s deranged
Suicide… the anti-Christ
Don’t you know Jesus paid the price?
By: Sabina Nicole
I stand neck-high tall
within the quicksand
of my infirmities.
Green and gaunt,
I hesitantly genuflect.
Ravaged tendons and corpuscles
are barely breathing
within the vacant corridors
of a soiled carcass.
My ardor for vindication
has been abandoned.
I presently refrain from accepting
the consultation of
umbrous soothsayers.
Readers of tealeaves and tarot cards
hurl my infractions towards
the apex of your divinity
and the nadir of my scrutiny.
I espy no Judas rope
(dangling from lofty boughs)
as scores
of unanswered novenas
sleep beneath my fingernails.
Scars flourish upon my skin -
agnate to larvae
and dried leaves.
The density of my marrow
turns moss covered and dank.
Choirs of starving nestlings
bear witness to my afflictions.
Swallowing the last notes
of a disenchanted requiem;
they slowly bind my wrists
with twigs of knotted reflections -
as Harper Lee's macaws
peck my cheeks and
the calculated feast ensues.
A murky blanket
of eventide quilts me
in fibers of remorse.
Lesions burst
underneath my skin;
they herald my inhumanity
as I impishly smile.
Connect-the-dot cold sores,
(not found in children’s books)
entwine a raw endoscope probe -
mocking
my charted results.
Inky woodlands
are devoid of carnival mirrors
and inner deliberations.
Such forms
of bun coed celebration minuet
within another's emptied psyche.
The conduits
to my umbra are blocked.
All exits are closed.
So, into the woods I go,
medicine chest-closed
and matchstick available.
Searching for answers
the starving nestlings
formerly consumed.
IMMEDIATELY PLEASE REMOVE ALL OF MY INFORMATION FROM YOUR DATA
BASE FORTHWITH.
ALSO, ADVISE ANY AND ALL CONTRACTORS, SUB-CONTRACTORS, AGENTS,
SUB-AGENTS, AFFILIATES, PARTNERS, COLLEAGUES, ASSOCIATES, CLIENTS,
WEBMASTERS, WEB BASED LINKS, WINKS, TWINKS, SHRINKS, COLONEL
CLINKS, BOSSES, CO-WORKERS, EMPLOYEES,VENDORS, SUPPLIERS,
SALESMEN, ACCOUNT REPS/EXCS, ACCOUNTANTS, BROKERS, CO-BROKERS,
HACKERS, SLACKERS, WHACKERS, JERKS, SOLICITORS, SIDEKICKS,
COHORTS, WINGMEN, WHEELMEN, LOOKOUTS, OUTLAWS, IN-LAWS,
RELATIVES, FIANCES, BOYFRIENDS, GIRLFRIENDS, FRIENDS, FOES,
ENEMIES, EVIL NEMESIS’, DERELICTS, DEGENERATES, DOPERS, DEALERS,
TWEEKERS, GAMBLERS, RAMBLERS, CANVASSERS, INQUIRERS, QUEERS,
QUEENS, COWBOYS, KINGS, FAGS, DRAGS, HAGS, HETEROS, HOMOS, TONY
ROMOS, FEMALE IMPERSONATORS, [PRE OR POST] MALE IMPERSONATORS,
DICKS, DYKES, VAN DYKES, DICK VAN DYKE, LESBIANS, LONGSHOREMEN,
SHORTSHOREMEN, LIARS, BUYERS, CRYERS, CIGAR SMOKERS, CARPET
MUNCHERS, RUG RATS, TODDLERS, TEENAGERS, JUVENILE DILINQUENTS,
SENIORS, SUCKERS, TRUCKERS, MOTHER shut yer mouth, LAW MAKERS,
LAWYERS, ATTORNEYS, JUDGES, POLITICIANS, LEADERS, FOLLOWERS,
DISCIPLES, PROPHETS, EVANGELISTS, SAVIORS, SINNERS, SAINTS,
SOOTHSAYERS, MEDICENE MEN, GYPSYS, TRAMPS, AND THIEVES, WITCHES,
WARLOCKS, VAMPIRES, LYCANS, ZOMBIES, WAR MONGERS, PROTESTERS,
VIGILANTES, VICTIMS, SOLIDERS, GENERALS, GOVERNORS, PRESIDENTS,
PATRIOTS, PACKERS, LIONS, BEARS, BROWNS, BLACKHAWKS, REDWINGS,
RIGHT WING, LIBERALS OR LAW BIDING CITIZENS. THEY ARE NOT TO
CONTACT ME AND LOOSE MY NUMBERS.
BUT, IF YOU SEE MY MOM, TELL HER TO CALL ME.
BA-ZING!
?
410 AD when mythology takes hold
Barbarians threaten to conquer Rome
Roman troops abandon Britain, head home
But Chieftain Vortigern seizes the throne
Britain’s new king sought to flex his power
Mt. Snowden’s site chosen for his tower
But before Vortigern builders cowered
Ever-crumbling walls left his face sour
Soothsayers were beckoned and wove a tale
A fatherless boy must be brought to Wales
His blood be shed and his future curtailed
If hopes for the tower were to prevail
A princess was said to have spawned an heir
Whose father had simply vanished in air
Leaving the single mother in despair
And the ghost’s voice she still heard she declared
Her son Merlin was brought before the king
Vortigern scowled when he began laughing
Merlin said ‘neath the tower lay a spring
That’s why its unsettled walls kept crumbling
He claimed serpents were below ground as well
The king quickly fell under the boy’s spell
Diggers found both as the lad did foretell
Merlin’s life spared, his reputation swelled
To escape wrath from a king with clout
The tower’s real problem this boy figured out
The “magician” name he could do without
But a sharp wiz kid was Merlin, no doubt
*Friends, I did extensive research on Merlin
and this is what I learned. Is the story true?
Yes, to the best of my knowledge.
Vortigern was a true character and this is
allegedly how he discovered Merlin.
Oh those cursed Ides of the 15th
they brought Julius Caesar death
the soothsayers warning unheeded
mamuralia chased beaten out of city
His clothes animal skins and rags
they set about this scapegoat with glee
hitting him with large wooden sticks
once he was driven out feasting began
All the while in natures ways
comes the madness of march hare
watch as they circle the fields
frequently stopping to box
All this to attract a mate
or is it just wind up their tails
be as may the sight one that stirs
and those mad winds bluster and roar
March arrives full of fury roaring displeasure
and soon is time to sacrifice the Ides Sheep
to bring forth Spring on the vernal equinox
and wave goodbye as march leaves like a lamb
This year the vernal equinox is not on my birthday but on the 20th
Vernal Equinox heralds in spring and the poor Mamuralia is an old man dresses in skins
making him a scapegoat traditionally beaten out of the city to kill off evil the 15th of march
is the date of Caesar s death as foretold to him by a soothsayer
Winds from the West 'blowin so hard....
Seas for her bows & rails down far....
Stars high aloft hangin' from the yard....
Ace of Diamond drawn as my card....
Porpoise below at four fathoms clear....
Runnin' with trailboards ever so near....
Mako now wandering never with fear....
Thus didst begin another new year....
Shrouds a'gleamin' with St.Elmo's Fire....
Head of the topm'st playin' moonspire....
Now up in the riggin' balanced on the wire....
Emotions all a'tumble creatin' quagmire....
All of the sudden yet unexpected not....
As for certain now Fate had drawn another lot....
Waves begun growin' still hard fought....
Clouds obscure a moon & darken all thought....
Now winds do lessen & so still do they stand....
Now seas abate & take appearance of dry land....
Now high aloft Albatross makes silent stand....
Now 'tis all that remains on a sea of black sand....
Dreams are reality so say the soothsayers....
Minds are naught but the work of most prayers....
Still yet in motion with absence of players....
So comes an end for some us seafarers....
Imagine to imagine imagination as all....
Fancy all 'round ready for the fall....
Devil's own laughter creating the pall....
Daughters of mermaids sought to enthrall....
Winds from the west 'blowin so hard....
Seas for the bows & rails down far.....
Stars high aloft hangin' from the yard....
Ace of Diamond again drawn as my card....
SeaWolf
©
~Amor Fati~
Justin Richter
-
It is no wonder, looking up at the cosmos,
That they worshipped the Gods -
The diviners of Reason
And the theologians of old.
But how devout were they?
Even then, in their temples of devotion,
Searching for answers
Where truth be told.
And what would their pantheon say?
As we now ascend to the heavens,
To our neighbors in Their name.
"There are mortals at Olympus!"
"We are betrayed!"
"How dare they fumble forth,
Naive in Our domain?"
Yet where is the scepter of Jupiter?
Or the lightning bolt of Zeus?
Where are the seers and the soothsayers?
The Oracle, the prophecy unfulfilled?
They died with Delphi,
And took the Olympians.
Will that be our fortune?
In far away places,
Will they look to us as deities,
Those believers yet to believe?
Is that what lies behind our stars -
Are we our gods we worship?
Are we as fleeting?
As fragile?
After all, what God prays our prayers?
To what end is our tithe?
Like the dead,
Our thoughts see Them alive.
That cannot be!
The Alphas and the Omegas,
Entwined with human affairs!?
Hah! Listen, young God,
If those Old Ones subsist,
They leave us to our fate.
And so it comes to pass;
You,
The beginning,
And eventually...
The end -
Amor fati.
-
I have heard people declaim
That Africa is the dark continent
Plagued by war, sickness and famine
The aridity of such a claim
Has left my people to pine.
Yes, I grant through the years,
Africa has suffered from war, famine, and sickness.
Yet, dear reader, is it Africa alone?
From East to West,
Death has reared himself a throne.
I beseech thee, O reader, let thy ear be attentive
To the confessions of Robin.
For these declamations
Have led many into error.
It is not my intention
To absolve Africa of her share of the blame
Yet my beloved continent,
Is both home to the good and the bad
The best and the worst
Why then dwell only, on all that is base.
Lineal son of Africa that I am
My heart bleeds -
Seeing that the soothsayers and naysayers
Are moving among our villages and cities
Congesting our airwaves
Shamefully declaring
That the Ides of March have come
Unlike Caesar, I dare - reply that they haven’t come and will never come!
For mine experiences have taught me a lot of things
And I dare you to discard that label hoary
Coined many and many years ago by many a missionary.
Allow me then to tell you Africa’s story
For that is my sole ambition.
Of her past glory
I will say no more
For the pyramids of Egypt will testify for eternity
The Great Zimbabwe Ruins
Stand tall and erect in the Savannah plains
A monument to the greatness of their builders
Don’t you dare believe that fable
Told to many a school boy in colonial Africa days gone by
That mine ancestors could not create such a piece of art
Just go to my village this day
And you will see many stonehouses standing
A testimony to our heritage.
Her natural beauty is second to none
Heaven, excluded - for I am talking to men not angels.
Since I am weary
Let me tarry. God willing will continue tomorrow!
Vers Beaucoup
The Vers Beaucoup, a poem for created by Curt Mongold, which is French for “many
rhymes”. Each stanza (you can have as many stanzas as desired as long as they follow the
rhyming scheme) consists of four lines with a rhyming word scheme of:
a-a-a-
a-b-b-
b-c-c-
c-d-d
Each rhyme can only use a MAXIMUM of three words. The fourth “a” rhyme carried over to
the second line causes enjambment and creates a strong internal rhyming structure.
(Definition of enjambment The continuation of a syntactic unit from one line or couplet of a
poem to the next with no pause.)
~~~~~~
Astrology
The stars, the Mars, destiny afar
The scars of yesterday seem to come my way
All the way. Even the moon, clouds strewn
Like wispy balloon seem to mourn, ominous and forlorn
.
The searcher, deciphering future, to nurture
And raconteur. Symbols and signs, falling in lines
Astrological designs. Depicting life, joy and strife
Or anything rife. Past wreak, prospect mystique..
.
Fortune untold, fate uncontrolled that planets behold
Young or old, only a seer and his peer
With a crystal sphere or tantras and mantras
Even using yantras, predict events or any ascents
.
Sometimes soothsayers play doomsayers and naysayers
Asking us to conduct prayers. To create peace and release
And increase a planet’s interjection or correct a defection
Such complication! Makes astrology seem like mythology
~~~~~~~
Out in the midst of a deep dark forest the soothsayers silently sat.
As they tried to make out either heads or tails from the entrails of a cat.
“What think ye?” said the first to his scrutinizing mate.
“What is it that we can tell King Eric about his coming fate?”
His wife took only a moment to consider what she had to say.
Then she offered up her thoughts “I think it will rain today.”
“Rain?” asked Keith the conjurer as stared at his Mariann.
“What does that have to do with the king? I don’t see how it fits the plan.”
“The King relies on Sir John the Brave he’s the knight that is truly trusted.
But when he travels with the King today he’ll become completely rusted.
And in his suit of armor Sir John will be frozen into place.
Allowing the King’s enemies to overcome him in the chase.
Tell the King to remain castle bound for at least another week.
He should not try to make a move until once again we speak.”
Then Mariann the seer moved a little closer to the fire,
And smiled because she knew she held the King like vice grip pliers.
Poets With Wings
We are the children of the earth
descendants of Paradise
We are the Poets
Descendants of the Heavens.
We are the new Prophets,
bearing gifts of messages.
Carrying the messages transmitted by spirits.
Angels of warning,Angels of comfort, angels
Poets,Poets, angels,
We can make you laugh,
Poets, we can make you cry.
Poets,broad,narrow, Free flowing
or constipated . Stuck or rolling...
We are the children of the earth
descendants of man.
Poets with sensors.Waiting to fly.
Barefoot poets, keeping you grounded.
Poets with wings, keep flying high.
Singing poets, praying poets.
Experience bringing poets.
History knowing poets..
Poets we are the soothsayers
the truthsayer poets.
We mingle We deliver
We discern, We learn
We can never afford to be stuck,
Or ignore intuition.
We can never afford to be hypnotized.
We honor change,Welcome change
Make things change.
We are Poets with wing
Hermetics heirs presumptives of, harum-scarum....
Speculums mist beyond the threshold paints this night
With colours dipped in oils vibrant shadows of avatars
Soothsayers spring tide canvas' framed by
Buteos zenith....
Vantaged splashings from upon, the avant-gardes
Separtist spaces amid such moments tembres these
Belles-lettres', artesians wells of euphemisms eulogies towards this
Hexagons phoenix now vivified from yesteryears
Bittersweet nightshade personified; segues seignior!?
Renaissonic refurbs....
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
....In vogue ~
Note: Smile ~ A poetic kiss amid the celebrative marking of my
fourth anniversary here today at, Poetry Soup! ~ "Love," John!:) ~