Best Unforsaken Poems
Again I see you, again you return to me again you remain, I am unable to move
Without reiteration of your presence; you make me aware always, and again
Never is never to be.' as all is possible still more than imagination is.'
That is reality in its ever change, of opportunity there will be no end.
You begin again in renewal, as snowdrops bloom in biting wind cold
Old ever the opposite to youth, & that is part of forever without finish
Outside is waiting unbelief. & echoing throughout existence willingness
New day is sprung of itself, indifferent to broken dreams or the longest nights
Lessons are given; forgotten.' again & again; life's spirals weave dream & destiny's
From the everyday hubbub I have often fled
to share the stillness enjoyed by the dead.
Over chimes that mark the quarter and the hour
noisy Crows play hide and seek around the tower.
Cross beneath the arch and through the gate
to those here bearing witness to our fate.
Marked by gently listing weathered stone
they lie here all together, all alone.
Through village history I slowly pass
borne on the ebb and flow of unmown grass.
Sarah Smith, taken in eighteen thirty-one
her past just twelve years old, her future gone.
Another Sarah, Eames, near the main porch,
each facet of her tomb topped by a torch.
In a corner by the hedge with beard of moss
a solitary ornate Celtic cross.
Reverend Ogle, keeper once of Church and grounds
now waiting for the final trumpet's sound.
Another cross, lain flat with hole for flowers
rests darkly in the shadow of the tower.
Wind and weather from it's face the name long taken
unknown, but unto God is unforsaken.
Inside the Church in amber candleglow
stand the Alabaster Angels- and they know.
Respectfully I pick my way back to the gate
till next time, and eternity, they wait.
One last glance back, then time to move along,
All Saints calls out the hour
the Crows are gone
A polytheist would argue
just one God
That there are endless guards
and many rods
given these wards
With many temperaments and aims
devotion for a supreme being
Compassionate gods spread
charity, clarity’s
light and goodwill
Whereas others spread hate,
blood still spills
Relates—mayhem and darkness
The God of the Old Testament
unforsaken is the nakedness
not ever to turn the other cheek
not even for the meek
He portrays Himself
Jealous and wrathful
vengeful, rageful
Numbskull—beware!
Whilst man plays by the rules
these judges will decide
The winner takes it all
The loser has to fall
No complaints, apologies
Whilst the God of New Testament
demonstrates much mercy,
forgiveness you shall see
For God and his creations
This is what’s in common
in the world religions
This is the core,
the common essence
all shared values
when in His presence
The road is long, painful and circuitous
A troubled past will plague us
dubious religious sects, false replay,
vulnerable man is their prey
Realization from my deepest self I reveal
enamored in love is how I truly feel
I felt with all things,
a strong sense of collectiveness
An emotional rapture
of the combined sacred oneness
One man showed us love
A true love He
displayed,
flogged, died
Crucified for love
of mankind
The Jewel of Jesus
Find a man like Him
and certainly not a moony (woman)
In Ganges River, I shall swim
in blessed holy water
I’ll bathe in
His wine I’ll drink
On my knees I shall sink
Bow down and pray
for Yahwe’s precious Jewel
the One, the Only
Eyes of blue?
Jesus Christ Superstar
Heaviness painfully throbbed your beating heart,
as the world could not understand it
and could never see it.
With your slurred words
and tired, dilated eyes,
I smiled, knowing you were not from here,
watching you drenched in sweat,
dripping down from your neck
in the midst of this muggy
unforsaken place.
And as the last song of thunderous sounds from trumpets played
while golden horns slowly waved in and out of the dark,
screaming to a high climax then falling low
and lower as if it was a rhythm of a train in the rain,
slowing making its stop,
many along the walls stood whispering to others
while gazing back and forth in your direction
as those at their tables whispered amongst cigarette smoke,
using their empty glasses as ashtrays.
And miserably, you walked towards me across the room with courage, and I already knew, just like the others, life had already broken you.
And I waited on the other side with a smile until you arrived,
as you stumbled, drunkenly aroused— into my web.
Then your eyes followed my hips outside the front door.
We walked further away from the departing crowd.
And further away.
Then further away
into darkness,
then
you heard the sound of car doors mysteriously opening.
Footsteps crept closer, and you searched and strained your eyes to see what was waiting.
And when you saw them, you were suddenly
transfixed
You cautiously called my name to get an understanding.
And there was a sound of a closing door,
and I had vanished away.
Desperate scrambling sparked, with a quick touch of a blade to your neck.
Movements pushed and pulled against each other.
And a sound of fumbling,
finally ending with a loud screech—
silence.
Heavy footsteps quickly ran away, and time had stood still.
Then you limped back to your car with an empty wallet
and a frown of dried tears—
A fake phone number folded in your pocket.
You were drenched in the darkest of dark,
and I was in my element,
watching and waiting in my car for my share
of the money we earned.
JG Finch
The phantom of the opera,
In darkness masquerades.
A maestro of illusion,
In dreams he serenades.
While his protegee is sleeping,
He speaks of their romance.
When love is spurned, she's taken,
And given one last chance.
Imprisoned; unforsaken,
But where, she does not know.
Her choice is now between them,
The phantom or her beau.
One kiss from her he changes,
With her promise, when he dies.
To return and sing a requiem,
And, keep secret where he lies.
11 / 24 / 2016.
The world is watching with bated breath,
while an unforsaken slaughter takes place
A man with no soul, an angel of death
There is no escape from this labyrinth,
only terror he brings to his own race
The world is watching with bated breath
With rage, pent-up frustration, and faith
Good men do their part, fighting to replace,
a man with no soul, an angel of death
Poets write forthright about him in depth,
with a fury about what’s taking place
The world is watching with bated breath
One man’s brutality, Lord thy feareth.
Oligarchs flee on their yachts and disgrace,
a man with no soul, an angel of death
As we stand together, we send a pleth—
ory of prayers to end this, with God’s grace
The world is watching with bated breath,
a man with no soul, an angel of death
At the ringing of the clock at precise midnight
Souls after souls from everywhere began to be lifted up
Flesh simply disappeared
But it was the midnight hour to preserver
There were no moans and no pain
It was only the soul that would remain
The moon was high and full
There seemed to some of pull
A new destiny being eternity
Death being the finale
The Unforsaken attempting to be together in an alley
It was quick and swift
A new Earth and emotions
Death has hit me and I am drifting to a place
My soul no man can ever replace
My life is a temporary erase
This is my day and it’s a spiritual getaway
I must move on in the call and can’t stay
Death onto me on this day, and into my own eternity where there is solvency.
If I was brought a skeleton,
the reanimated ghost.
Then he could feel alive again,
and to long full lives we would toast.
With cups full of red champagne,
unnatural reality at its most.
Watch as the unforsaken host,
bangs upon his bones.
Understand the wicked in our ways,
of being semipro’s.
Standing up for those unable,
feeling appreciation grow.
Then disabling the thoughts of man,
say my name three times, if you can.
You see, I hold faith in things unseen,
that live in shadow and in between.
One day the rain will all be over,
and the pain will just start to be seen.
Freedom is a fight
We must win
It's about the love of
Being free, wanting to
Escape into a
Different destiny
Possessing the need
To explode are you
Kidding me?
We have all been to the
Mountain top and peered
Over and saw a new world
I wonder is it for us
Baby freedom is a fight
We can't give up
It comes from the love of
Wanting to lay down at night
Rising to a better life
Unforsaken dreams
Instead we struggle we
Have strife man, this is crazy
When is the last time you
Traveled outside this country?
You need a passport permission
Hear this precious days are few
Freedom isn't really free
We must scream hoping that
Some one will lend his ear
We can't allow fear to scare us
Because US together to gather
We are FEARSOME
I want you to know freedom is
A fire burning, such a thing
To behold, this is a fight we
Must not fall short of
You should know we are not
Ever alone, want and poverty
Is the night we rage against
Praying for that day yes,
Freedom we can win
Born of confidence and consciousness
Someone once asked
WHAT IS A NIGHTMARE?
This is a nightmare we
must wake from
Baby freedom is a fight
UNTIL THE END
The story that I am writing,
Could easily be true.
It could have happened,
To either me or to you;
In a mail room somewhere,
A letter lays unread.
On the front of the envelope,
This is what it said:
"A Letter To My Darling"
The envelope was old, and tattered with years.
On the pages, they seem to still be, wet with tears;
"In a fox hole my darling", that's how it all began,
"We were running from the enemy,
And it was more than I could stand.
"In A Letter To My Darling."
"I toss and turn, unable to rest.
I love you so much, cause to me,
You are the best;
I don't want to die, in this unforsaken land.
But, I have my faith in God,
And here is where I"ll stand."
"In A Letter To My Darling."
As the last page was folded,
They were choaking back the tears.
And each one began to wonder,
How it lasted through the years;
Then on the envelope, some words began to appear.
"Thank you", it read, For all the latters you sent me.
Signed, "A Letter To My Dear."
She took the hands of others
And gently placed them in hers
To sweetly tell the story that guides faith
Towards love, goodness and charity
For she knew the secret of suffering
And wore the frocks of forgiveness
So to cherish God quietly and humbly
And find his mercy
She had given her life
In living everyday as the
Gift of God
Dorothea wore a crown of peace
For in her heart she knew its joy
And like a soul who had found her calm
She walked in streams of light and devotion
Her steadfast strength prevailed on her path
Away and above the darkness that surrounds
With each unforsaken and priceless deed
Bridging her wisdom and strength
Revealed to others as the shining harmony
Of Dorothea's song as the
Gift of God
May 23, 2020
Nun Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Julia Ward
? Beyond ????
came indeed they conquer
Which makes the world their locker
In they world of evil
They've changed to devil
Having lot of fellow in follow
Through a path which lacks joyful sorrow
Jumping in joy jungle of chilled fire
Chained with an unseen wire
When world moves to their way
As devil meditate in time plot
When and where to turn them to hay
Ay, your unforsaken sweeten hell is here
Cumbersome it's on thou hair
For that you came, you conquer in defeat
N.I.G.G.E.R (Nigeria Is God's Greatest Enunciated Race)
On the road to Africa lies riches & diamond rings,
In the land of green & white & green,
The men with "three eyes" are kings,
Raising above sickening sins that stinks
And becoming a god without God investigating,
Corporate Merriment on the day of their joy
Though we're questioning & vexing.
We're Unforsaken but a 'chosen generation,
A royal priesthood, an holy nation'
(Though could be unholy in her approach sometimes),
Beauty & power laudest in our ovation,
A land of brown sands, blood & brine,
Riches & undying hope in its prime,
Queuing vehicles & praying hands
To lend our spirit, soul & body wholly
Like ghost to trouble joy, we tell the story;
Eyes gaze at the pilot stars
Calculating our abundance & scattered equations.
So let's swear an oath
On the highest mountains & hills
Like starved whores on pills,
Like gods careless of mankind under their eyes,
That greatness will be a reality someday,
And like lost treasures from a capsized ship
Nature shall wash your shells where this land lies
And it shall breed saviours of our kind.
VickWizzy
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © 2017
The memories arise
from the classes of the catechism
lessons learned with each decision;
teachers bent on revealing all of God's written words
are not the only wisdom I have heard.
Something else reaches for the sky
the blessings of God's love in disguise
and every step I take,
is destiny awakening at daybreak.
Stepping right and stepping left
blends the thought from both the mind and heart
with strength and courage reveal its part;
Questioning every move or decision taken
the spirit, holy is guide unforsaken.
Whispers soft, played on the ear
remain unseen but ever here
all we need ever do,
is let the spirit move you.
for Chantelle Anne Cooke
the Holy Spirit 12/2/19
Shoved on the stone cold floor
Thrown into a hard wood door
Slapped in the face
And given no grace
Strangled by his hands at the throat
As he smiles and begins to gloat
Blood and tears stream down
As he runs off to town
Huddled in the deep dark corner
Stone faced like a mourner
Locked up and can't get away
Suffering inside each night and day
You haven't got a clue
Of what you're gonna do
You bang on the door
And stomp on the floor
You scream outloud but no one hears
Cold and afraid your eyes fill with tears
Despiration fills the soul
As pain and suffering takes their toll
You spy a knife hung on the wall
And decide right there to end it all
In your last breath of utter despair
You ask God why He was not there
Hope and life fade away
But God really was there that day
Moments later a voice calls out
Wondering what the noise was all about
Help bursts through the door
To find she is no more
She gave up to soon
And fell to her doom
God is always there
And he really does care
He will never leave you
Nor forsake you