Best Vengance Poems
CELTIC LOVE
The paths we take under the eye of god
and universe, but some consider odd
Great mother Dana, knowing everything,
help us to grow, into a birth of spring,
and know from where our lonely feet have trod.
In Celtic roots, from shores of Normandy
we came from long ago, a time called history,
made weary from the Roman and his sword
in seeking vengance, as if they were lord,
and Ireland is the place we chose to be.
They layed to waste all things we'd ever known
spared not one child--their hearts were solid stone
and Caeser put us out to where we choose to be
here in our emerald upon the sea,
to where, great mother, only you had known.
The Wicca way, so deep out of our past
now comes of age, as if a spell were cast
to love all things, and have you at my side,
the only place where two in love can hide,
here in the only dream to ever last.
You'll be as much a part of all of me
as anything in life could ever be,
and we shall honor all and everything,
each to it's own, our destiny might bring,
and everything in life we'll ever see.
Forget my name, remember just my way
of loving you both every night and day
We'll have it all, if we can realize,
that all we want is here before our eyes,
and all we need is here, and on our way.
© Ron Wilson
This is the second in a trilogy of football poems.All the need to be read to get the full story.
Now they've lost in the playoffs
It makes me want to cry
But they'll win next year
It's then they'll do or die
This team is full of talent
You can't keep it down for long
they'll be back with a vengance
For they will write this wrong
The quarterback still awesome
None like him came before
More wins then any rookie
Next year he'll wipe the floor
You can take it to the bank
For this is no darn lie
To the Superbowl they're bound
It's there they'll do or die
You see my faith is solid
This team is due much more
To the Superbowl they're bound
Number five is at the door
I talk to you again
When they have won the Bowl
I'll tell you how we made it
Plus who you should console
CELTIC LOVE
The paths we take under the eye of god
and universe, but some consider odd
Great Love of Jesus, knowing everything,
help us to grow, into a birth of spring,
and know from where our lonely feet have trod.
In Celtic roots, from shores of Normandy
we came from long ago, a time called history,
made weary from the Roman and his sword
in seeking vengance, as if they were lord,
and Ireland is where we chose to be.
They layed to waste all things we'd ever known
spared not one child with their hearts of stone
and Caesar put us out to where we choose to be
in Ireland, an emerald upon the sea,
to where, great mother, only you had known.
The wicca way, so deep out of our past
now comes of age, as if a spell were cast
to love all things, and have you at my side,
the only place that two in love can hide,
here in the only dream to ever last.
You'll be as much a part of me
as anything in life could ever be,
and we shall honor all and everything,
each to it's own, that destiny might bring,
and everything in life we'll ever see.
Forget my past, remember just my way
of loving you both every night and every day
you'll have it all, if you can visualize,
that all you want is right before our eyes,
and Love of Jesus put it here to stay.
© ron wilson aka Ron Arbuthnot
aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
MARRIAGE OF A SHAMAN MISTIQUE
The paths we take under the eye of god
and universe, but some consider odd
Great spirit knowing all and everything,
help us to grow, throughout our Shamaning,
and know from where our lonely feet have trod.
In Celtic roots, from shores of Normandy
we came from long ago, a time called history,
made weary from the Roman and his sword
in seeking vengance, as if they were lord,
and this, our land, is where we chose to be
They layed to waste all things we'd ever known
spared not one child; their hearts were solid stone;
and Caeser put us where we choose to be
Kincardinshire, our city near the sea
and where, great spirit, only you had known.
Our Celtic way, so deep out of our past
now comes of age, as if a spell were cast
to love all things, and have you at my side,
the only place where two in love can hide,
here in the only dream to ever last.
You'll be as much a part of me
as anything in life could ever be,
and we shall honor all and everything,
each to it's own, our destiny might bring,
and everything in life we'll ever see.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
Church on a Cliff by the Ocean....
.
.` ~.~ `; t
. . II
. TT
. \\l// . /OOOOOOO\
. `l ' . . He speaks
. l__________________________________________________ Peace be still__
The storm clouds roared and waves below grew violent. Death had flown to town with a powerful vengance. People gathered to pray on the grounds of the church by the sea....
The cliff has erroded and the church sits precariously above. Years and storms have
taken its toll on the cliff revealing stark danger. Fears of mudslides
and collapsing stones by the forces of nature...Made the
town folk relocate five miles inland to sound footing
Leaving the cliff church abandoned and perched
awaiting its certain destruction. Three
generations have come and gone yet
alone on its perch it waits... ` ;`
;
Revival opens the doors again
Bravehearts dared to `;
sing praises
in the church
by the ocean
Perched high .. ~ ^ ~
on a cliff! ~~~ )}~~~
_____...................~-.....-~--~--~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
-----------------------~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-----~~~~-~-~-~-~
Contest by Constance LaFrance Church by the Ocean
By Doris Culverhouse
9/28/2011
CELTIC LOVE
The paths We take under the eye of god
and Universe, but some consider odd
Great Lord of Heaven, knowing everything,
help us to grow, into a birth of Spring,
and know from where our troubled feet have trod.
In Celtic roots, from shores of Normandy
we came from long ago, a time called history,
made weary from the Roman and his sword
in seeking vengance, as if they were lord,
and Ireland is the place we chose to be.
They laid to waste all things we'd ever known
spared not our children, with their hearts of stone
and Caeser put us out to where we choose to be
in Ireland, an emerald upon the sea,
to where, great Father, only you had known.
The Wicca way, so deep out of our past
now comes of age, as if a spell were cast
to love all things, and have you at my side,
the only place where two in love can hide,
here in the only dream to ever last.
You'll be as much a part of all of me
as anything in life could ever be,
and we shall honor all and everything,
each to its own, our destiny might bring,
and everything in life we'll ever see.
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet
I'm reclaiming my throne
I don't have to take yo s__t
Forget what you thought you knew
And what you heard I did
Because I am not confined to a set place or time
Nor a date or a set state of mind
I'm back, back with a vengance
Never surrendered, Never bended
Bold as ever
Defeated never
Big lips, Proud stride
Big hips, Thick thighs
And d__ proud of me
Not statistically trapped to what you want me to be
Never seen beauty this powerful since the Black Queen Nefertiti
My bark is hard and my bite is harder
Hottest thing happening since Jesus walked on water
I'm not a minority, not deprived
I'm a formerly known Queen with a mean a__ stride
So leave yo comments in yo mouth
And leave well enough alone
Black women get like me and reclaim your throne
-Lyric-
Not sure how fond I am of this write very different style to my usual genre. #experimenting
Well look whos back again
My old compardra
My closest companion chronic pain
What a lovely way to see in the new year
And spend new year's Day
Alone rolling around the bed
Unfortunately in agony
How romantic I bet it said
Maybe it is all in my head
My imagination running wild
Shame it's come up with something I dread
Why can't it just leave me alone
Is it intent on constantly reappearing
Till it's isolated me from everything
and everyone one I've known
Maybe I don't want to be alone
Maybe I don't want to be stuck in my head
Listening to all the negative things it's said
I just want to be free,
free of the pain and misery
It teased me for a time
I thought it had said it's goodbyes
But like a predator
It just allowed me enough time to recover
So It wouldn't all be ended and my casket buried
Before it pounced like a panther
And it sunk it's teeth in
right next to my gugular
Its not finished with me yet
like it would grant me a quick painless death
Why won't it just leave me be
or do the kind thing and put me out of my misery
Surely I've done my time served my servitude
Paid my pennants for whatever crime
Will it not be satisfied till it spills my blood
Or has me hung drawn and quartered
In one last final act of vengance
To inflict the ultimate pain on my broken body
Must I scream like William Wallace for freedom
Will it then relent and show me mercy
I think not, I think it thrives on my cries
Like a psychopath It smiles at my demise
I bet it loves to just sit and watch
Yes it's back again
But this time I don't think it sees the need for a reprieve,
this time it's never leaving it's not stopping
Because it has no plans on ever getting going or being gone.
Obviously I've got a lifers debt left owing,
it would no doubt say sing.
CELTIC LOVE
The paths I take under the eye of god
and universe, but some consider odd
Great mother Dana, knowing everything,
help us to grow, into a birth of spring,
and know from where our lonely feet have trod.
In Celtic roots, from shores of Normandy
we came from long ago, a time called history,
made weary from the Roman and his sword
in seeking vengance, as if they were lord,
and Ireland is where we chose to be.
They layed to waste all things we'd ever known
spared not one child with their hearts of stone
and Caeser put us out to where we choose to be
in Ireland, an emerald upon the sea,
to where, great mother, only you had known.
The Wicca way, so deep out of our past
now comes of age, as if a spell were cast
to love all things, and have you at my side,
the only place where two in love can hide,
here in the only dream to ever last.
You'll be as much a part of me
as anything in life could ever be,
and we shall honor all and everything,
each to it's own, our destiny might bring,
and everything in life we'll ever see.
Forget my name, remember just my way
of loving you both ev'ry night and ev'ry day
you'll have it all, if you can realize,
all you could want is here deep in my eyes,
and all you need is here, and here to stay.
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet
As we transcend snowy bright mountains that thrill the adrenaline seekers
Buds spring up around the foothills of these mountains and
populate themselves by way of white bells and other lovely flowers
making themselves well known in summer months by their scent that wafts upon billows of breezes
This is the time of cherry blossom trees that line our street in a symphony
A riotous coloured canvas splashed with magentas, thalo, and cobalt hues
if a symphony were playing it might be Ode to Spring by Benjamin Britten
each season has its beauties
Is gifts for the eye and the body
My favourite is spring
As it sometimes not so meekly melts the snow with vengance.
Lush and fully thick with riches
it's bounty ours to keep,
masking deep beneath fair cover
the things that make us weep.
The dew of envy on bitter leaves
pride to make us scoff,
prickly vines of jealously
thick muck and mire of sloth.
Poison sweetness of vengance
heady intoxicating lust,
frozen wastes of selfishness
to wander if we must.
Thickets of self absorption
bearing thorns of sharp remorse,
forever there to blindly roam
lost with no recourse.
Panicked by fear of powerful storms
whipping cold dark seas of hate,
the raging fires of constant wars
that seem never to abate.
Cloying shallow human senses
more than we can absorb,
succumbing to temptation
on this hedonistic orb.
veebdosa
MARRIAGE OF A SHAMAN MISTIQUE
The paths we take under the eye of god
and universe, but some consider odd
Great spirit knowing all and everything,
help us to grow, throughout our Shamaning,
and know from where our lonely feet have trod.
In Celtic roots, from shores of Normandy
we came from long ago, a time called history,
made weary from the Roman and his sword
in seeking vengance, as if they were lord,
and Ireland is where we chose to be.
They layed to waste all things we'd ever known
spared not one child with their hearts of stone
and Caeser put us out to where we choose to be
in Ireland, an emerald upon the sea,
to where, great mother, only you had known.
The wicca way, so deep out of our past
now comes of age, as if a spell were cast
to love all things, and have you at my side,
the only place where two in love can hide,
here in the only dream to ever last.
You'll be as much a part of me
as anything in life could ever be,
and we shall honor all and everything,
each to it's own, that destiny might bring,
and everything in life we'll ever see.
Forget my name, remember just my way
of loving you both every night and every day
you'll have it all, if you can realize,
that all you want is here deep in my eyes,
and all you need is here, and here to stay.
Shamanic Way - Celtic/Wicca
Lovers hate with forceful Vengance
once it starts, no way to end it.
Lovers taste of someone different,
poisoned it, forever changed it.
Hating love thats left you lonely,
Burning fear comforts you coldly.
Hating hate that holds you captive,
feeding it, fueling it, keeping it active.
Lovely hateful memories,
fill your mind, create disease.
one day holding ceremonies
sunrise burning dead, deceased.
Hateful, lovely, lonely one,
hates himself for whats hes done.
Now theres no more sinful fun
no loving , no hating, just moving on.
Sets the barrell against his skull,
pulls the trigger, lets it go.
Hate, in red, now wall to wall,
upon the ceiling, down the hall.
Picking up pieces of their families lives,
left, the children to wonder why.
The earth now cracks, the ground runs dry.
So from above the couple cries.
Raining , pouring, floods of tears.
So many, unused wasted years.
was it me or was it you
when one heart splits back in two
when a soul gives in to shock
turned into water from a rock
and from this river hate will flow
a hate of passion thats left to grow
and from hate it turns to spite
whats done is done whats wrong is right
whats right forgiven, whats wrong is lust
unchanged anger for years a must
broken promise a river of tears
a plot of vengance of feild of fears
a simple look can melt the lies
from different blod comes 1 suprise
a journy taken, a modest mind
a welcome feeling a hurtful find
a sleeping demon a lion tame
a longing feeling a secret flame
for all these feelings sad but true
i have 3 words and its
I LOVE YOU
we are creatures of...
a time lapse
that digest only in fractions...
about 1/14rh of each second
while 13/14ths escape us...
with respect cause and effects
we love the curiosity of cats but...
lay claim to some inner self image
echoes of creations mythological analogies...
from surviving untold 'centuries of millennias'
of change at least as intelligently as cats because...
human kind survives by asking the right questions
which means we as rational beings have a power to see what is...
within/without by way of practical and abstracted logics
so the 13/14ths of the pi that disappeared right in/of the light of day...
off the eye's 'window sill' without our knowing anything
more about it than rational is our choice over confusion and...
we - who what when where and why - wise dream too much
i mean - buttoned down screwed up reality images of ego...
greed power possession and re-vengance as war to serve...
scam artists profiting off the 'who when where and why' that bows...
some to a what that's supposed to be a good reason for their deaths
stan sand