Best Verities Poems
Teach them the songs of the land.
Teach them the rhythm of life.
Teach them the strength of the past,
That they may appreciate the beauty of the future.
Children of today, nations of tomorrow.
They have the right to know and believe in the unity of life.
Teach them to know that all men and women are not just nor truthful.
Let them know that for every mean and selfish people, there are honest, generous and dedicated ones.
Teach them the power of the spirit of sportsmanship, to enjoy winning and as well accept losing when it comes.
Teach them that a dime earned is to be valued far more than a thousand stolen.
Teach them to rejoice in each others successes rather than envy. Teach them to have faith in God and to believe in themselves.
Remind them never to forget that they are masterpieces of the Creator, and none can replace the other.
Please, don’t forget to teach them that it is more honorable to fail than to cheat, and there is no shame in tears.
Teach them the difference between the real world and the world in the pages of magazines, movie screens and television.
Teach them the enduring powers of patience and kindness.
Teach them the endless powers of love and forgiveness.
Expose them to verities of colors of life and remind them to look beyond
skin colors to appreciate the blood of life.
Teach them the importance of a smile in the dark tunnels of life.
Teach them to be simple and truthful to themselves and to keep there distance from drugs.
Teach them to be respectful of life and elders that they may be respected.
Teach them our mother’s songs; tell them where we are, where we have been, where we are going and they will lead the way.
I would be the pen* in the sovereign Author’s hand
Communicating what He has perfectly planned
Along righteous command of virtuous demand
Toward gracious life that is bountifully grand.
Honoured am I to be gripped with supreme prudence
Exposing heavenly wisdom’s iridescence
Expounding truth of verities’ precious essence
Against the attacks of skeptical impudence.
With prevailing love, mercy and peace as my ink
I can inspire hearts to care as minds of kindness think
Moving commitment beyond dedication brink
Propelling compassion for selfishness to shrink.
As the pen bearing the great Creator’s trademark
I yield to His fingers for miraculous spark
So poems can shine midst nooks in souls hopelessly dark
Drawing them nigh to the Lord and to His voice*, hark.
*Psalm 45:1 My heart is inditing a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made touching the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.
June 15, 2020
7th place, "Non Human" Poetry Writing Premier Contest
Sponsored by Chantelle Anne Cooke; judged on 6/16/2020.
Confronted with conflicting self-forces
my flesh groans in adversities’ braces
gripped by haughty human nature that reigns
over flawed sinful carnality strains.
Granted with grace of redemption by Christ
my soul owns His eternal life, blood-priced
along imputed righteousness divine
changing me from iniquities’ design.
Quickened toward God-consciousness delight
my spirit yields to Almighty light
striving to win own personal battles
smiting selfishness, pride and greed rattles.
Settling to choose best in dilemmas’ test
my faith seeks truth from Scripture wisdom nest
believing immutable verities
learned well from discipleship certainties.
Created in God’s image: wondrous deed
my essence is complete through Him indeed
made functional through ministerial acts
living for Him, reaching-out midst peace-pacts.
Staying in the center of the Lord’s will
my heart contented, with love He does fill
while satisfied by His faithfulness’ bliss
prospered in glad service I cannot miss.
Blest with uniqueness of distinct beauty
my being finds worth in Jesus’ bounty
He values me through His compassion wealth
enriching* personhood by divine health.
*2Corinthians 9:11 Being enriched in every thing to all bountifulness, which causeth through us thanksgiving to God.
January 26, 2021
6th place, "Non-judgmental Eye" Premier Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Unseeking Seeker; judged on 1/29/2021.
Staring into the abyss of crises’ appearance
I’m stricken with panic, disclosing my unbelief and ignorance…
Yet with God’s radiance, I can behold His gracious sustenance
Indeed assuring His provisions of bountiful abundance
Midst wellness of healthy satisfaction-extravagance;
Thus, I thank Him for His timely deliverance.
Staring into the abyss of insecurity’s disillusionment
I’m gripped with anxiety’s tormenting predicament…
Yet with God’s vision, I can perceive thru His enlightenment
Indeed opening my sight to His sufficing contentment
Midst His blessings for spiritual fulfillment;
Thus, I praise Him for His compassionate engagement.
Staring into the abyss of uncertain future
I’m attacked by doubt’s torture…
Yet with God’s illumination, I can see His grace-gesture
Indeed expressed by His Scripture
Midst His promises for triumphant faith’s venture;
Thus, I worship Him along holiness virtues’ posture.
Staring into the abyss of life’s grueling difficulties
I’m paralyzed, confronted along terrorism’s realities…
Yet with God’s lens, I can see His miraculous verities
Indeed highlighting His mighty goodness-certainties
Midst His power* controlling universe entities;
Thus, I trust Him with my yielded faculties.
*1Corinthians 2:5 That your faith should not stand in the wisdom of men, but in the power of God.
March 11, 2019
3rd place, "Pick A Title, Vol. 2 - Rhyme" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Edward; judged on 3/23/2019.
How things have changed!
The old verities no longer apply
Our world has evolved
and we must adapt
Electricity connects the whole planer
One can get in touch with people in almost all lands
within seconds
The internet reaches around the globe
The "information highway" makes for a smaller world
A world we may well leave soon in space vehicles
Space travel will change from
the province of a few individuals
to the province of billions of Earth dwellers
We are making the earth
unsuitable for habitation
We must change or be destroyed
by forces of our own making
We may be forced to leave Spaceship Earth
in order for our species to survive!
Wasn't that the name of a rock band?
Or perhaps something from Star Trek?
The world was not created in 7 days
However, after Adam and Eve ate the deadly
apple the world changed
The metaphor is excellent - The Bible is a poetry book
The light from the past still has relevance
Even if we are now in the computer age
The old verities still have power
The world exists
So do we
You can scoff at existence
Find it a kind of cosmic joke
But it has been said before
Readers - This is not our fate
Untamed before me,
Crucified for verities,
Cultivated one.
Where are you my sweet spring time,
I’m heart sink waiting for thee, oh beloved
Of all the seasons, thou ‘art my favorite,
For yours is the very breathe of life itself,
The Mystic Rose grows within your warmth,
Nourished by the gentle breezes that you
Bring forth, a tender blossom of sacred beauty,
A timeless wild flower of single elegance.
It sleeps this brilliant Tiffany bulb, curled up
Tightly within its raw soil bedding dreaming,
Oh thee, oh sweet springtime, but frozen
She remains in a status freeze, waiting for
A soft whispering from nature
She comes be at the ready, child of the sun.
Beneath winters icy chill, lays fields of dreaming
Blossoms, here the verities of the pallet array
Dips into the rainbows stratospheres, melting
Within the earth below, to create the beautiful
Bouquet that spring will draw forth.
Nay the white hands of winter, smack harshly
Against my window panes of sorrow,
Yet within my heart is hope of the tomorrow,
And the glorious joy to come, with the on set
Of the promises of spring.
The burning logs of holiday cheer have lost
Their romantic luster, the sleds sharp blades
Are placed aside, it’s just too cold outside for
Laughter’s enchantment to take hold.
The shovels of white diamonds fields that
Once glistened so magically now remain
Dual and tarnished, just a chores aimless
Task of back aching pain to be done.
I’m waiting for the breathless color burst,
To feel the warmth of the sun against my
White skin of palest ivory, and to hear the
Street children at play once more, outside
My prison door.
For here I’m still looking out my window,
At a wintery wonderland of ice and snow,
Waiting for the spring, tired and weary of
The splendor of white lace, and snowflakes.
Where are you my sweet spring time,
I’m heart sink waiting for thee, oh beloved
Of all the seasons, thou ‘art my favorite,
For yours is the very breathe of life itself,
The Mystic Rose grows within your warmth,
Nourished by the gentle breezes that you
Bring forth, a tender blossom of sacred beauty,
A timeless wild flower of single elegance.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Dedicated and inspired by My Sister Poet Mystic Rose
There are places out in space
that beg the question of why,
abiding where dreams embrace
our infinite inner sky.
Stargazers pay attention
to sidereal pathways,
tracing every dimension,
some using astral math ways.
Scientists study each fact
and what their instruments find
of astronomic impact
in terms of matter and mind.
The poets wordily lithe
of celestial wonders sing
with lofty spirits and blithe
as upward their fancies wing.
Throughout human death and birth
we’ve gazed at the heavens awed
while creating hell on earth
through cause and effect that’s flawed.
We see not with precision
through mortal perceptions, but
with illusory vision
pretentiously say what’s what.
And yet, if the truth be told,
in our braggadocio
of verities we behold,
how little we truly know!
There are dreams beyond our dreams
that fly in the face of fear,
where all is more than it seems
to casual eye and ear.
In evolution stellar
a flash was observed in view
from dying cosmic dweller
that brought it to life anew…
If stars come back from the dead
reborn in a blaze of light,
who knows what might lie ahead
beyond our limited sight?
~ Harley White
* * * * * * * * *
Inspiration for poem derived from article with image ~ "Astronomers observe star reborn in a flash"…
"An international team of astronomers using Hubble have been able to study stellar evolution in real time. Over a period of 30 years dramatic increases in the temperature of the star SAO 244567 have been observed. Now the star is cooling again, having been reborn into an earlier phase of stellar evolution. This makes it the first reborn star to have been observed during both the heating and cooling stages of rebirth."
People around the world
Are smoking marijuana
Just like a coconut tree
Is god’s gift to nature?
But some men with power
They gone and make it illegal
When every one knows
The real problem is alcohol
Since the beginning of time
The tribes would come together
And they smoke the hemp
To make peace with one another
It’s a gift to mankind
Just Like the grass in your yard
Now they arrest you for this?
I think the world has gone mad
For some smoking marijuana
Does help focus on they studies
And its use by doctors, lawyers
And professors in universities
If you get arrest with marijuana
You will get a record for life
But some can walk in a store
Buy alcohol and drink and drive
It has so many different verities
Of alcohols in the store
But still they say we can’t
Pick an herb and smoke no more
The tree of life grows by the river
Says the book of revelations
And the leaves of the tree
Is the healing of the nations?
Marijuana cures much illness
It’s a healing remedy
But some use it to get stone
And that’s not the way it should be
These people are crazy today
They even abuse regular medication
So you can’t class them with others
Who use it for healing and meditation?
It has a name for the stoners
And its simple they’re abusers
And the name of others
Well they’re the real users
People are getting obese
By the fast foods of today
Yet it’s completely legal
To sit down and eat you life away
Cigarette is very dangerous
But the powerful like to smoke
When every day you see on TV
It cause cancer and leads to stroke
So if I want to smoke a joint
In the private comfort of my home
Then you should make it legal
And just leave me to hell alone
Hear Me, O Muse, no moos or cluckings, muckings or horns of fog
Do sound the clamoring claxons of the bardics that be written by William McGonagal o’ the Bog,
That Laird of Lamentations Disastrous, that Scot Wha’ Hey Nonny Nonny,
Laureate of the quite awful woeful grueful stuff that happened a-when Goode Queen Victoria was stuck-in in Buckingham and Balmoral and the rest, recall ‘em, of her palaces oh so very bonny,
All about bridges steel a-budging, assassinations most foul all gone kerplooey,
And many and other suchlike things dire. And then that tasty poetaster who be
Known far and near for all his poems fair about domestical bliss most sweet a-cloying,
Edgar Guest, good ol’ scrivener of the everyday, of pathos and bathos does he sing,
Garden paths and bubble baths and let’s not be forgetting the good ol’-fashion verities,
A poet to speak for everyone no matter who or how finicky, he’s.
Let’s round down to an even three with Rod McKuen, syrupy-treacly and saccharine,
Escape from thought and subject and technique and all things stern or black-and-grim,
As sure as roses are red and violets are blue
And God made the little green apples red but once in a while green too.
I swear I cannot live unless I’m able to read them many times per diem,
At work, at home, in bed, or sometimes while at my BM.
The deep and sonorous voice of
his defeatist self-talk was paternal,
and torturous,
reinforcing the force fed message,
"There is no happiness,
only gradients of misery,"
leaving him indifferent to the present,
careless of the future.
Reared in the shadows of perfection,
parental conflicts played out
as the "self-made men"
of a fathers' generation chased ambitions
beyond the cramped lives
of their own youth.
Affection and approval,
bestowed and withdrawn
by the performance scale;
he was a sundial
numbering only sunny hours,
with little of consequence to say,
a lucid, inquisitive and fertile mind.
His native endowment
a vivid sensibility for the beauty
of words.
He learned woman from
his quint-essential sisters
yet remained profoundly ignorant of women;
if love were happiness
it generated a loneliness
made all the more desperate
by the intimacy of severed connections.
Psychic numbness, and fauxbia,
yes, he feared being false,
had plunged him into darkness,
with his vision
of a minimum level of connectedness,
the raw ache of personal loss,
the empty feeling of helplessness.
Forced to live as that outsider
trapped inside a familys' feuds;
being bonded to survivors,
learning to live with the understanding
he would be jettisoned for others to survive:
emotional dishonesty became
necessary for survival.
Denial was the best defense
since he could change nothing
and repression had long since
ceased to offer relief;
he was too articulate
for that lie.
The tightly packed crowd
contained inside his head was
momentarily frozen by the question
"How to unlearn the lessons of his youth?"
To love and be loved, a necessary condition,
a prerequisite to a happiness
that could not exist?
Now, he works,
and writes,
and trusts in simple verities;
chaos, pacified by distance and routine,
serve to mitigate the sting
of realitys' reminder -
he'd found that so urgently sought,
only to have lost it in the finding.
Confronted by conflicting self-forces
my flesh groans in adversities’ struggles
realizing that human nature lurks
then reigns to conquer carnality flaws.
Granted with grace of redemption by Christ
my soul received His eternal life gift
along imputed righteousness divine
freeing me from sin-wages’ damnation.
Quickened toward God-consciousness sublime
my spirit yields to Almighty control
striving to win in personal battles
vanquishing own selfishness, pride and greed.
Settling dilemmas in choosing what’s right
my faith seeks anchor upon Scripture truths
believing immutable verities
learned well from discipleship endeavours.
Created wondrously in God’s image
my essence is complete indeed by Him
made functional through ministerial work
living for Him, reaching-out to others.
Staying in the center of the Lord’s will
my heart remains contented* and peace-filled
while satisfied by His faithfulness’ joy
prospered in fulfilling utmost service.
Blest with uniqueness of distinct beauty
my being finds real worth in the Saviour
valuing me by His compassion wealth
enriching personhood despite weakness.
*1Timothy 6:6 But godliness with contentment is great gain.
January 26, 2021
1st place, "ALL YOURS (Jan 26)" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 1/27/2021.
April 6 Scripture Meditations Based on 2Chronicles 30-32
Key Verse – 2Chronicles 30:18 … But Hezekiah prayed for them, saying, The good LORD pardon every one...
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR PARDONING ME
Thank You for pardoning me for my iniquities
As well as for my earthly vanities
By Your holiness purging my sin-impurities
Along Your righteous verities.
Thank You for pardoning me for my selfishness
As well as for my pride-inflicted guiltiness
By Your mercies forgiving my confessed haughtiness
Along Your loving kindness.
Thank You for pardoning me for my arrogance
As well as for my worthless extravagance
By Your grace causing my deliverance
Along Your secured assurance.
Thank You for pardoning me for my transgressions
As well as for my idolatrous abominations
By Your sanctification cleansing my corruption
Along Your transforming conversion.
Thank You for pardoning me for my jealousy
As well as for my enviousness-fervency
By Your clemency working in my leniency
Along Your gentle persistency.
Thank You for pardoning me for my backsliding
As well as for my destructive world-minding
By Your truth correcting my humanism-attending
Along Your purposive life-building.
April 6, 2022
I avoid the light that invades the space of the windows
because it perturbs the nuances of my thoughts:those
frigid sepulchral memories of yesteryears' love lying
uniformly beyond a damp partition of consciousness,trying
to escape as a means of a venerable excuse for me to
decimate this flesh and soul which gives residence to
those effulgent ponders that waver restlessly and tangent
upon the structure of the optimists' creed that was bent
from capricious minds and hypomanic-states to which nothing
states of the verities of the now abysmal dolor which rings
through my heart with incessant intonation of a melody
that schlepps through my senses in remoteness of euphony
which springs forth from mouths of angels vocalizing of their
freedom.And within those octaves I hearken of the loss
of my freedom which I once embraced in the solitude
that abraded piquancy of vibrant day,having worn it away
to evince the cold moments of paltry existence when those
unawakened fleeting thoughts(which are semblable to windows
of graves)allow no memory of yesteryears' love bereft
to evade,and no glint of light to invade the eyes of death.