Chastises Poems

Lost Art

Behind the moon, where hunters hunt
In secret, the whiff of boiling lipsticks
Chastises the lungs of scorpions.
Murals hang on battered doors of
Decrepit banners, hoisted by dust-swept
Elements of colours –etched and painted.
Drums are sober, frightening withered
Hands that beat them to lean delirium.
Rotten eggs hatch on their own,
Their shells, white-toothed fragments of
Lost archives, posted with the obituaries
Of totems of muted art.
The silence on the moon haunts.
That on the back of the moon sears,
Sears incoherently,
All agonies of a wasted age with fires,
Moon fires, old and ravenous,
Which smelt the vagaries of a
Limitless anxiety.

She Was in Charge of Everyone

She should be ashamed, he should be ashamed, they should be ashamed
Nasari grew up hearing these daily chastises from her mother
She knew that she also should be ashamed
And yet she did not know the why of it yet
Shame was a theme in her life, at an early age

She was ashamed in kindergarten, second grade, sixth grade
Her cheeks were flushed, for everything was her fault
If someone else dropped the Playdough, she took responsibility
Not only was she in charge of herself
She was in charge of the rest of the world

What they did was her shame
She took it all on
With guilty feelings
For her mother had drummed this into her psyche
At an early age

Metaphors Written In Psychedelic Ink

Metaphors written in psychedelic ink 
inside my mind like a projector slide show
of insanity. 

The flying pig in the boiling sea chastises me,
I must uncover the cosmic key or the bull
will smash all the inventory.

I refuse to be a diamond in a sea of glass
or Alice through the looking glass,
or stare to long into the abyss
and see it staring back at me.

The golden heart has turned to red
the grapes of wrath are pressing out
the blood of innocence
and I must sound retreat in psychedelic ink 
or become lost in illusions,
delusions of peace.

4

Forbidden Freedom, first ever Collaboration with the Silent One

If "we" are a sin,
Why is my heart bleeding for you?
Why is my soul screaming out your name?

Chained by the links of horrors that hold me against you,
Towered high up above the ground,
Little did they know I'd crumble every bone just for you.
I would not wish such adversity upon my adversaries, such as the animosity which chastises our hearts.


Every precious petal in my garden has turned black, waiting for your lips to rejuvenate their vibrant hues.

Why must love be cursed by society's blindness,
or has Cupid's ignorance plagued our forbidden fate. Maybe death is the only freedom for our devotion 

The Table Is Yours

*Image of God Smiles by Pixabay.

The Table is Yours

I glide between spoons filled with surprises,
determined to make the best of my fill,
in this manner, I think claiming prizes.

So slight I take, before greed rob sizes,
breeds avarice, made by my tales, instill
I glide between spoons filled with surprises,

I treat my table for none, chastises,
scorn bugs cheer, I use, superior skill,
in this manner, I think claiming prizes.

My views are all mine, other surmises,
Live whole, die happy, and I am uphill,
I glide between spoons filled with surprises,

I chose my independence; it rises,
some ills my mood, nothing changes, free will,
in this manner, I think claiming prizes.

My metaphors used spell true life guises,
My mountain I fit into a molehill,
I glide between spoons filled with surprises,
in this manner, I think claiming prizes.

2022 August 03

Sorrow of Tomorrow

I fear everything
and everyone I love,
will fade in the beat of my heart.

False perception
Calls forth sorrow.
All of my deception,
Fall out before tomorrow.

Divine love withers
To the saint of my heart.
Cold skin shimmers,
To the faint of this depart.

My soul will never hold 
This gracious lullaby.
For it chastises its gold
Of a star fae, left to die.

Sunshine Bedimmed

the light had twisted
a duress that was looming
high tide in the sea

typhoon chastises
jade water over the bow
jaded on the bridge 

thunderstorms floating
level of brightness in spots
out of the azure

after ships are docked
when you foretaste a rainbow
the sunlight advent

Written: April 19, 2022

A BRIAN STRAND PREMIERE CHOICE Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand

Confidence Restored

In the quiet solitude of evening I come before The Lord.
In the secrecy of my chambers I seek His presence.
It is here that I kneel before my Master and bare my soul.
Tough I fail Him time and again He will receive me.

Though I disappoint Him He will not reject me.
Though He chastises me He will not cast me out.
He will lift me up from the mire and set my feet upon firm ground.
He will wash away my sin and clothe me in a robe of righteousness.

With His right hand He reaches out to me.
With His left hand He holds my enemies at bay.
With His right hand He provides all that I need.
With His left hand He shelters me from the elements.

All this He promises me for He is a loving Father,
And I am His Child.

Freshly Painted Door

I am freshly painted
Feeling smug
Upstaging the walls of my cottage

I am feeling new
They are old
I am arrogant about it

No one chastises me
They are kind
It makes me feel guilty

I suggest they could use sprucing up
They laugh at my young self
Pointing out their love of being aged

I suddenly feel too fresh
Too new
Too modern

Relax say the walls
Just be you
We love you the way you are

Sage advice from the ancient ones
I settle down
Attempting to age as fast as I can

The Run Away Cat

Carol’s naps are plenty with a puppy on her hip.
He’s romping fields, she is captain of a pirate ship.
Cat is curled up next to Carol’s swollen up top lip.
Deathly allergic, her eyes open with a whip. 

Sorry apologizes new neighbor, his voice is a clip.
It is his wandering cat; he can’t yet make the pick-up trip.
She pops renegade cat into sleeping bag, gives it a zip.
Tells it as they travel, “Your daddy is a drip!”

Sarge thanks her profusely, her heart does a little flip.
He is handsome and sweet; his child is a boy named Pip.
She chastises love at first sight and tries to get a grip.
He invites her to dinner, serves her pie with cool whip.

She takes an allergy pill now, without having a fit.
In case he calls to invite her out, dreams of muscle rip. 
Man, boy and cat moved on, now a radar blip.
She stares at allergy pills, now an unwelcome gyp.

Genius Mind

That mind doesn't bother,
That mind isn't afraid.
He just wonders
How can a new theory be made.

He doesn't care about the king,
Just goes on.
He is born with wings
And certainly, he will be long gone.

He talks of something unusual,
But he is good and kind.
Always makes strange conclusions
Because he is a great and genius mind.

That mind is unique
And he always wants to stay alone.
He is treated freak
And never perfectly known.

His experiments are lunatic,
But experiments' consequences are advantageous.
His way of living is not dramatic,
He is courageous and sometimes behaves outrageously.

He isn't free from thoughts,
He has many things to find.
In return, nothing he has ever got,
Because that's the karma of genius mind.

He does things at full blast
Because he is blessed with high intelligence.
He forgets about his successful pasts,
And works on not to earn chastises.

He is passionate for results
And keeps infatuation for something new.
Despite all sort of insult
He will raise his point of view.

Innocent as a child
 And never stays behind.
Curious like a wild
Because of his bright and genius mind.

The One Bad Apple

We send our children to school
Expecting the teacher to love them.
The kindergarten teachers are great at this.
Practically each and every one of them.

But what if your child gets the one bad apple in the state?
A teacher who uses sarcasm and meanness? 
Who does not let them use scissors or glue?
Who lectures all day while they sit still like Stepford wives?
Who chastises the ones who fall asleep due to her blatant meanness?
What if your child gets the teacher everyone has tried to get out for the past ten years?

What if the principal tells you it is hopeless?
What if your child’s light begins to fade?
What would you do?
We moved to another state at the semester
But by then it was too late.
She hated school.
Just like the teacher.

Unnumbered Days

Unnumbered Days
Written: by Miracle Man
10-11-2019

Spent days lie behind me,
and future days are uncertain.
They’re viewed through a haze,
until God raises the curtain.

I don’t know the remaining count,
but they’re held in God’s clutch.
 More than once, in life, I’ve felt,
from on high, His healing touch.

My future days are unsettled,
and I’ve seen change as I’ve grown.
At the end of life my harvest,
will be from earthly seeds I’ve sown. *

So that leaves me this morning,
to gaze, as another sun rises.
To reap unwarranted blessings,
but sometimes, God chastises.

* Ephesians 2:9 (KJV)
“Not of works, lest any man should boast”.

Father's Apple

Son laughs flat out at his father’s humour
Mama chastises them both
Proud papa takes his bows

I Trust God

I trust God* Who secures my salvation!
He guards my soul by His might’s protection…
He warms me in His fellowship’s embrace!
Without Him, I can’t run the divine race!!!

I esteem God Who seals my victory!
He arms my faith to spread Gospel story…
He communes with me and answers my plight…
Without Him, I can’t pray in sweet delight!!!

I thank God Who blesses my faithfulness!
He chastises my pride and selfishness
He rewards me by His work-assessment…
Without Him, I can’t face discouragement!!!

I love God Who revives my spirit daily!
Without Him, I can’t live marvelously!

*Psalm 73:28 But it is good for me to draw near to God: I have put my trust in the Lord GOD, that I may declare all thy works.

July 6, 2018
6th Place, "Your Best Sonnet 2018" Poetry Contest
Sponsored by John Hamilton; judged on 7/8/2018.

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