Best Supplicate Poems
I want to see that look
That shows the coming rapture
The face of wanton need
Passion's hungry capture
I want to see that look
Testament to lover's game
To know it’s all my doing
unleashing the untame
I want to see that look
Of sheer helpless submission
Knowing that your release
Is timed to my discretion
I want to see that look
Euphoria’s induction
That plea for more and more
A primal need production
I want to see that look
In hungry naked eyes
And hear those trembling lips
Supplicate, moan and sigh
I want to see that look
Before you’re blown away
Exquisite ecstasy triumph
The signature seductress way
I want to see that look
I WANT to see THAT look
Then I can taste my pleasure
For giving you satisfaction
Brings mine on beyond measure
Eileen
Yield? Not to you, I certainly won't.
I'll parry on hot coals, I'll lunge to your affront.
Succumb? I'll not breathe your air of lies,
Since no honeyed sweetness makes me compromise.
Supplicate? Then throw down your armor at will.
Once freed from this battle, you will be my love still.
On a monotone Monday,
under grey skies with perpetual rain,
I became a devotee to your magnificence.
A poetic pilgrim wandering upon a path,
which would lead me to your embrace.
Intoxicated with your romantic reflection,
my ink is seduced in your rumination.
My passion is like the raging sea,
come feel my love, come satisfy me.
Oceans apart, I swim in sensual shores,
that would bring me to your door,
but alone, I drown in shallow streams.
I've become jealous of departing birds,
craving for the clouds to carry me
from lilac dusks to scarlet dawns,
so I can ascend like sunrise,
descend upon you like sunset.
You are the essence of nature,
I, a mighty tree bowing to it's mistress,
desiring your heart and soul,
not just your earthly existence,
Your love strengthens my roots,
as they spread rapidly to reach you.
My hands have become lonely,
without your fingers interlocked in-between.
Your aroma intoxicates my senses,
your persona like perfumed petals,
weaves poetry inside my mind,
which flows upon a seedless garden,
patiently waiting for soothing blossoms.
There is no remedy for my syndrome,
as each day without you,
I relapse,
without your rehabilitative scarlet lips.
Kiss me like poetry,
before I suffocate,
drain me into a steamy silence,
where there is no need for verses,
so we can merge in carnal mists.
Lust is an infatuated captive animal,
a starved beast frustratingly caged.
Set me free...
For you hold the key.
Time cries for you, reluctantly moving,
with each beat of our hearts.
In darkness I supplicate with the stars,
with your name on the tip of my tongue.
Devotion is a unity of parts,
only we can piece it together.
With you I want Sunday mornings,
where our eyes meet in rousing raptures
with your lips as my nourishing nutrient.
Love is not just an emotion,
it's a whimsical fluctuating journey -
and you are my final resting place.
We supplicate her when we mourn
She is the rose and we the thorn
to those who sorrowfully grieve
alone, bewildered and forlorn
She offers sinners a reprieve
and comforts sad hearts that aggrieve
Lifts us up when we're feeling down
In her we must deeply believe
She can remove a worried frown
Rescue us when we start to drown
Grant us the courage to endure
A saving grace without a crown
Humbly, do we pray to ensure
our faith is virtuous and pure
This Christian virtue we should seek
For hope we pray. God, we adjure
He blesses the modest and meek
who are weary, fragile and weak
But with hope as a dividend
our lives will no longer look bleak
On our Lord's love we can depend
Hope He provides as a godsend
to ease fears and anxieties
God is our Father and our Friend
Romios, oh Romios, my
own star twirling across
the night skies.
What say you to Panagiota,
having hot chocolate with a
floating marshmallow bobbing
on her thighs?
Are you coming to take her
to her heavenly home this very
night?
Do whisper to her gently, I supplicate,
as she pens her poetry tonight.
Tireless and fearless, like a tiger prowling,
she roars and expresses her bare truth.
Greatly disappointed when poets fear penning
a political comment as if it were a painful
abscessed tooth?
Poets shaking in their shoes,asking one another,
If they are safe...are you well?
Perhaps they might reconsider, a thing to be feared
far more~~an eternal life in hell!
We are paying the price, Panagiota knows, for tossing
God aside.
Man, at the height of his pinheaded arrogance, thinks
he can control, the air, the sea and the tide?
Further, that man will stand together in world peace?
A constant farce shoved down our holy throats
There only is one leader, in charge of us all on this
grand human boat.
No, He has no party nor political affiliation.
He just loves you unconditionally, and died for
your salvation!
**Happy Easter**
~Panagiota~
March 27, 2020
12am PST
No matter If history be repeated to war or battle,
Will go back fight and won the medals for chest,
Neither be retreated or nor give up from battle zone,
Until I led the combat to conquest,
For even at the last breath and drop of blood,
Adhere to delimitation line till the peace and rest,
And if the essence of mother soil vanished,
Put forth my brow sweat to saturate this placidity harvest,
Make them grow, and buoy up with ocean flow,
So, this land become the mighty, at his best,
Encompass whole fragrance of brotherhood and sodality,
Endeavor for honor, tranquility, and resurrect,
After all now I can take deep puff and pass away,
Attribute this patriotic poem to countryman sanest,.
And I Shahid pray, supplicate and invocate, that you,
May be the place of harmonious, pleasant zest.
M. Shahid H. Chouhdry ©
When I breathe and beat you know my nerve,
Whether am in trouble or in twisty curve,
Alpha to infinity you knows my pain,
Alas! All my endeavors yet null and vain,
Oh my Lord forgive my err and sin,
Am not more than petite thumb pin,
I am not more then eccentric smoke,
But Neither my pulse vanishes nor I get choke,
What am I? Mere a fickle soul and surreal thought,
Without your blessings, zilch and aught,
You made me concrete yet fragile,
Oh my Lord your mercifulness heaps and pile,
Wish I die while reading holy book kalam,
And meanwhile praising salat-o-salam,
And occult angel may welcome to main,
-abode, But I wish to die once again,
You give us faith and the best,
You the lord of two east’s and two west’s,
Sanctify my soul, make me free from evil,
And demonic thoughts of devil,
And I supplicate that You,
Allah ho, Allah Ho,
Nothing is invisible to you,
Oh My Lord, All powers belong to you!
Written By
Muhammad Shahid Hussain Chouhdry
(Bwp_PK)
Lord! Lord! My above Lord!
Give me peace not a war
Give me freedom not servitude
Give me uprightness not partiality
Give me voice not the muteness
Give me bread not starvation and thirst
Give me friends not a foe
Give me a pathway not blockage
Give me a care not negligence
Give me a love not hatred
Give me a melody not cacophony
Give me a piece of advice not deception
Give me motivation not discouragement
Give me purification not contamination
Give me hearth and home not vagrants
Give me shelter not a danger
Give me a laughter not tears
Give me light not the darkness
Give me recognizance not ignorance
Give me life not the death
Give me an honour not despise
Give me the truth not falsehood
Give me bliss not misery
Give me a protection not violation.
Give me! My Lord,I supplicate you
Hear my prayer, O Lord! I submit before you
Who did rob my tranquil
Who did bring that trouble in my land
Who set that sun of peace
Lord! My Lord! I beseech you
Obliteratewarfare and rejoice harmony
Let this whole world enlighten
Enlighten with pure light of fair and justice
Let this world be freed of maladies
And conformity be restored.
Copyright © Dawa Zangpo |25/07/2018.
Sometimes trees’ green fingers
Stand still like reposing harbingers
Of hope and despair; they meditate
On our ignorance of them who medicate
Us when diseases burgle into our souls
Taking us unawares like April fools.
At times tree branches and leaves
Come to a halt and fold up their sleeves.
Like parentless kids, they stand still,
Holding Ozone Crisis Meetings until
God’s silent servants come and sway
Them from angle to angle, wiping away
The spells of fear that cloud our faces
Each time leaves go on leave leaving no traces
Of further existence for Man who digs
His graves whenever he murders figs—
The figs that link us to the Unseen Being
Who reveals His presence in Man’s wellbeing.
But when God’s blowing sons and daughters
Sweep across Earth, letting twigs leave their fathers,
Falling twigs and dried leaves clatter
And produce celestial music to flatter
Man while lizards play basses with tails
And flying fowls chant solos and tales.
Then Man joins this universal worship,
Going down on knees to supplicate God’s fellowship,
Feeding his doubting heart with conviction
As Christ’s promises come to completion
Revealing the active hands of a Father Invisible
Who marvels His creatures with things invincible.
When these invisible but active servants of God gather
More momentum in synergy with Sun, leaves wither,
Tree trunks go epileptic while roofs migrate
And mortal Man gets to concentrate
On these leaves and stems which go on retirement
To remind him of his own imminent retirement.
(Between Carriere and Mbankolo, Sunday 02 December 2012)
You the omnipotent and Merciful For All,
O my Lord !All power belongs to You,
Whether who is Muslim or infidel doesn’t matter,
Your blessings are uncountable through,
Rainfall or waterfall cold breeze to warm,
Mountain to land , Sea or the endless sand,
Heat or Cold ,everything we hold,
The measure of everything in your hand,
Whom You will grant, Woe or pleasure ,respect or contempt,
Life and Death, wealth and poverty,
Your dignity and beneficence cover the whole world,
Though the vast eternal is your Sovereignty ,
Mitigate the burden of crimes, Supplicate for forgiveness,
We are your sinful creature, pardon us clemently,
Rogation for real success, show us the right way,
As You listen to those who don’t have tongue and they utter silently!!!
M. Shahid H. Chouhdry
Bahawalpur, Pakistan
All Rights Reserved.
[email protected]
Humans have long trespassed
and destroyed animal territories
Humans have poached
And selfishly encroached
upon animal habitats
cutting down trees to build
human habitations.
Now the tables have turned
Humans are quarantined in house arrest
while some lie sick in bedrest
So animals not usually seen are having a fields day
roaming upon roads, crossing the streets.
Reclaiming the once jungle lands,
that had been turned into concrete urban jungles.
It's better that busy humans now become photoholic
than forever queueing
in lines of heavy traffic.
Without human pollution,
nature is all the more photogenic
Mother nature all a creation of God
has now had many of us grounded
as she gives us a hiding
while we go into hiding.
Extraordinary turn of events indeed!!
In several countries round the world:
Discos and casinos vacated
Pubs and nightclubs evacuated
Bars shutdown for lockdown
People are behind bars instead of guzzling beer in bars
and instead of animals behind bars.
Humans compelled to hibernate
so animals busted their cell gate
Priorly animals were in an enclosure
Now they are getting free exposure
Self-centred humans cared mostly about themselves
but now the animal kingdom is the cynosure
Animals were shut in cages
and now human activity is under similar closure.
Ah, this corona crisis!
Is all this mercenary stasis
for humans a roasting nemesis?
A heavy price to pay for rapacious carelessness and arrogance
where humans acted like they are in control, like they
are controllers of this planet
and they could do anything they wish with it.
It's ignorance to think all this is mere coincidence.
Im relieved our Islamic prayers can be said any place, anywhere
to kneel and bow to the one true real sustainer of the universe.
We need to invoke and supplicate to the creator
who is still in control...
as prayer can really truly prevent fear and anxiety in such scary times.
"I suddenly realised that coincidence is a word we use when we are ignorant of the real causes." - Albert Salvadó
(I was impressed by the news story in which Kuwait had sent a special plane to Italy to specially evacuate their nationals from there when Italy was heavily stricken with the corona virus)
CUPID/EROS
Oh! Erato,
Muse of the poetry of love
Inspire me today
I supplicate you for
I aspire for HIM to write
HIM: CUPID, the son of Venus
Goddess of beauty, and of Mercury,
The cunning messenger
Of Gods
Guide my pen, Oh, Muse,
I implore you, a hymn for
HIM to write
A worthy hymn
For this sweet winged-tyrant of
Mortals’ hearts,
This merciless despot of
Mankind
The looks of his mother taken and
The shrewdness of his father
Irresistible forever
Has remained and
Easily into our souls
Uninvited infiltrates, paralyzing
Every resistance of
Ours
Then unopposed
He marches on:
Conquering every heart,
Subjugating every will,
Dominating every mind and
Becoming the absolute master
Of our being
No armies are able to resist
His charms
No troops are willing to make a
Stand against him
Instead, they are:
Readier to embrace the shadow of death, than
To live under the Sun of the living
Readier to be defeated by Cupid’s sweet arrows, than
To be victorious
Readier to exist in shameful infamy, than
To claim fame eternal
Easy for me is now
To comprehend
Divine, Homer,
Who describes you, CUPID, as
“Invincible in battle.”
Yes, YOU are INVINCIBLE,
Indeed!
For no mortal, no matter how
Powerful,
Be he a king or a simple soldier,
Is willing to take arms
Against you on the battlefield
Of love
But he eagerly his soul
Trades for
Just a probable morsel of
Happiness,
A dim hope of love eternal
And thus,
Without giving a single blow,
CAPITULATES!
©Demetrios Trifiatis
2 January 2013
I don't believe in you.
Jesus, the Lord, Vishnu,
Shiva, Loki, Thor,
Horus, Ra, and more.
Today, when I tasted desperation,
I almost pretended at adoration;
to get a favor, to finally find some aid,
I almost lied, almost faked, almost prayed.
To pray to one I know not to be?
Profane, to not only you, also me.
To you, in believing solely for the sake of want,
to me, in changing for the sake of some divine font.
So, even though I hold on to faith's lacking,
grant me just this one instance of backing.
Let me evince the ire behind my shame,
all the hatred behind the flame.
Nineteen poems about the same heartbreak,
about the one girl who's made me truly ache;
more than a tenth of all I've written,
to show exactly how hard I was bitten.
Yet for every one, I'd triple them all:
the woman, pain, poems, sorrow's call,
if I never had to spend another day
with those whose creed I no longer say.
I haven't seen my family in almost two years,
thanks to men with nothing between their ears.
I've never felt more alone, been more betrayed,
never had more regret or larger mistakes made.
Today, I defied them, for what I think is right.
They should have learned that some will fight.
Yet despite my bravado, my perceived cogence, I lost;
just one more injustice, one more line they've crossed.
I thought the one I went to unlike the rest,
before today saw him as different, the best.
Now I understand where wrong was my aim;
I shouldn't have expected aught but the same.
For that was the help I almost asked for,
one small victory against the Corps.
Oh, the chance one time to put it right,
impetus to be, change to incite.
You've always known my stance on your existence,
and to your myriad followers my resistance;
that should stress these circumstances' full weight,
that to you I might, even hastily, think to supplicate.
In my anger and self pity I wallow,
for the wrong done to me.
Unappreciated, taking for granted,
no entitlement of regard and respect given
and the list goes on.......
Oh the pain..... Woe is me!
As I turn from my belly onto my back and
face upward towards the vast blue sky,
a thought occurred.... who am I to complain,
this has been since the beginning of our time.
For the Giver of every good and perfect gift
has suffered this same pain and much worse,
there are many who put everything before Him,
when in everything He should be put first.
So I roll from my back and onto my knees
and supplicate to Him for His forgiveness,
for of such selfish acts.... I am also guilty.
Oh the pain of trying to extract the rafter
from my own blind eye is worse than
the pain of any wrong done to me.
So instead...for Our Heavenly Father I cry...
By; JoanMarie Peranteau
How I wish for that cold and flinty stare
the one that tells you 'I don't care'
to hold another, at arm's length
would seem to need so little strength
But, I am weak and've not the heart
it seems it takes, to show no heart
I've trembled, quaked and even quivered
when the time required that I deliver
a simple no; or not today
a trivial act; a slight delay
Instead I bear this morbid need
to supplicate; to please, to bleed
apologies and explanations
the most sincere substantiations
Do they make the deed seem so less
than these sins that I must now confess?
I've prayed to God to make me feared
not loved, respected, nor revered
Alas, he did not make me ruthless,
I'm cursed to live my life, still toothless