Best Swirled Poems
Happy are we, who love the beauty of all things.
Who stand for the beauty of a child.
We......who have soft, soul’s wings.
Those who believe in God, not in Satan’s world gone wild.
We surrounded by the media’s outlandish lies.
That as we walk this earth, there is a mix of bitter laughter
and dirth.
Know well what God said, “ Vengeance is mine .”
And each of us, destined to die, swallowed by the earth.
Putting only world leaders on trial?
Pompous and righteous, of our sins we live in indignant denial!
We, seek only personal fame and all others on earth defame.
All of us are so perfect, we have not a one tiny drop of shame?
Remember, do not any leader of any country, as a god adore!
Only one man, His life, offered to save the world.
I see this in poetry, waving palms, shouting Hosanna to humans galore!
And shouting for the death of others, their minds be in a self-righteous swirl.
5/10/2022
to stroll tomorrow's plastic streets
that glow at night from sunshine
To wander through the antique malls
That sold their wares to carry
To sit a commutator out upon the fastest rail
and watch the wondrous ways of youth
slip to and fro on wolly wogs as if they wear a tail
The grab hold ways of old and frail
Ride way beyond their pale
The swinging sways of counter plays
Remind me of a time
When by myself in younger days
I'd ride from time to time
Sipping coolies swapping lies
With rackers paying for crime
For in this city world of mist
There's nothing passed that isn't missed
By floating glass of Eyes
Tho once or twice in younger lives
A few were found to blink
It's all so taken care of now
So no child has to think
Repost of a POTD
5/12/ 202i
With needed changes …poet’s option.
Dedication to the late poetess, Connie Marcum Wong.
We miss you, Connie! Your humility and kindness are
a reminder to us, that life is greater than about being
a “winner.”
Love, Panagiota
Happy are we, who love the beauty of all things.
Who stand for the beauty of a newborn child.
We, who have soft, invisible, angelic,wings.
Those who believe in God, not in Satan’s world, gone wild.
We are surrounded by the media’s outlandish, propaganda lies.
That as we walk this earth, there is a mix of bitter laughter and dirth.
Remember thee, indeed well,what God said, “ Vengeance is mine!.”
And each of us, destined to die, under the earth to lie in darkness and dirth.
Pompous and righteous, of our sins,,we live in most indignant denial!
We who lie, we seek only personal, fame and all others on earth,defame?
All of us are so perfect, on our iPhones~we who constantly dial…
While slaughter in the thousands just occurred, and we give it no name?
Remember, do not any leader of any country, as a god, do adore!
Only one man, His life, offered and died to save the world.
I see this in poetry, waving palms, shouting Hosanna, to humans galore!
Ignoring our poetic brothers, left behind, in our self-righteous, vanity.swirl.
Each poem’s a web that I hang (time-smoked adage
that swirls in the sky) and dream seasons rare eyes!
With no thought of entrapment or hope of ingesting,
rhyme longs more to bless you, verse whispers, “Hello.”
Heart’s a door I crack open, not yearning for new friends
(though some are OK), but in faith, where faults too
(my aired laundry), serves Waylaid, integrity dearer
than platitudes floated that barely mask sin.
My hope’s some will see life’s reflection (not presage,
taste sugar glazed donuts, hear soft lullabies),
feel in spirit less lonely, grok I’m not protesting
God’s judgment at all! Still, it’d be a low blow
to lose Grace (I can’t work for), catch Hell (on free weekends).
Religion first-authored life’s “Catch - Twenty-Two?” (1)
How can ‘Word of God’ be a fresh ‘Truth’ to each hearer
and stay ‘Word of God?’ Is ‘Grace’ all and ‘Faith’ spin?
Are poems groked better than Bible in man’s hands?
Fools try to sell Scripture; there’s honor in that?
Are priests practiced deceivers who break the meek’s kneecap
or servants who look more for truth in blessed lives?
Let us question like children, delight in God’s purview
that floats light as stones when they bounce on time’s lake.
Our God’s Truth is still true though we don’t understand it;
we live in Love’s aspect, find joy in His smile.
Let Ringers walk home or be grist, plate for God’s guile!
To pitch by ‘just’ rules can put me in a snit!
But I’m fonder of Grace now than cat batting snowflake,
no strikes, balls, or fouls called, and no I O U!
Still, I lean towards a title and draft my incentives
for pitchers mean little when muse is on tap.
And if chewing’s your pleasure, then chomp on this format.
A Christian’s the one who won’t bunt God’s commands!
Brian Johnston
Poet’s Notes:
This last stanza was fun. I was not a big baseball fan though (except for ‘workup’ in grade school).
(1) ‘Catch-22’ is the title of a famous book by Joseph Heller. The title suggests: You can’t be insane enough to be excused from doing what needs doing if you’re intelligent enough to know that those already doing it are nuts!
I put up the barriers and molded the Great White Stone.
I searched all written doctrines that embodied my light.
It was a remarkable journey let me tell you of my flight.
I even went through DNA of every strand of every bone.
I matched all the genetic linage to kind energies ingrown.
It was like an open door after door where all turns bright.
The misplacement that followed is truly way out of sight.
Seeing it all made me search my truth and I wasn’t alone.
I felt like I am the only one.
There was just me to believe.
There was too much undone.
More than humans conceive.
This was an origin unknown and not of this world.
This is timeless intelligence appropriately swirled.