What great menace pulls us to destruction
What warmonger! What hatred loving beast!
Who savages the innocence of children
The miracle of flowers and serenity of peace
Earth’s wonders plummet down in fatal vortex
In power of Atoms mortals misconstrued
Unleashed at last Pandora’s final power
Predictable Apocalypse imbued
If let die - this Earth - this living opal
This quondam living opal, if extinct
Will Infinity create again this miracle?
Infinity this span cannot repeat.
Nocturnal dreams of midnight fantasies
neon flowers alongside scented lily pads
Rippling clouds, crossings on the moon
magnetic fields of bluing yes I see
Angels flying, flitting, round the globe
calling over stars to light the path
Magistrates of heaven glorious chants
soft and mellow pastel like the sea
Beatific vocals soft as voices of the earth
enigmatic secrets of a society un-known
Cooing doves fragrances of evening musk,
Divine Beings attired in Elysian clothes like Deity.
Dormant as the sun when moonlight clothes the night
brilliant as stars of heaven clipped with diadem delight
Divine in nature one with beings, known beyond compare
you are eternal and immutable, in a natural world of air.
Barbarity's own Deity,
The "Black Knight" of perversity:
Ascending through gross ignorance,
Descending on to Hell's province.
This callous god despises light
And seeks the deepest, darkest night.
It spawns a cult of terrorists -
Impoverished, soulless separatists.
This cunning god invites the "lost"
To join its cause, but at what cost?
It sacrifices human fate
For what its creed would consecrate.
This corrupt god projects this trait:
Its mission is to promote hate.
It draws the worst from human ties -
Despicable through flagrant lies.
A "counter faith" to those we know,
It stands alone - allowed to grow
From seeds of immorality
To acts of dire depravity.
What frames the Terrorists discourse
That causes pain without remorse?
This Deity of coarsest fame
Whose imfamy has claimed its name.
acorns and leaves
make up his mind too
as foliage entwines ours
like bridges,
like walkways,
camouflaged in an
every-day of solitude;
these berries may not last;
his thought runs deeper
- deities of the core,
the spirits would say -
to old log fires
by weathered stone,
you, his old flame, share
but only when you think
we're thirsty, that is
Dumpster-Diving Deity
By Mark D. Stucky
Dirty, broken, and forgotten,
discarded as worthless junk
at garage sales and trash collections,
were treasures I have rescued.
Where others saw rubbish,
the eye of this beholder
saw creative potential.
After repairing, cleaning,
and polishing or painting,
the old items were resurrected
into new lives and new homes
with myself and others.
Likewise, the Word-made-flesh dumpster-dove
into the bloody wreckage of our world,
to rescue us from our garbage heaps,
repair our hopeless brokenness,
scrub our grimy hearts,
polish our potential,
and find us forever homes
within divine community
in this world and the next.
(First published in Calla Press, 25 May 2022. See also my poems “Broken Beauty,” “Purgatorial Perceptions,” “God Around the Corner,” and “Quantum Spiritualities.”)
(Image collage from images by Pexels and Noupload on Pixabay.com.)
Fantasy ...
Farmer chills
even on heap of chillies
After all, chilles are his babies
he nursed, made it ready for dishes
Harvest joy, no less than a winner
Time to voyage in blissful orbiter
Not as a toiling Farmer
But as a harvesting Emperor
Reality ...
Though deity of food, fodder
Farmers, unaware of own future
Will crop be meager or bumper?
Will his efforts satiate hunger of poor?
Hail Deity of arable land treasure
Prioritise resolving issues of farmer
Else, Deity may curse in different manner
May quit farming, trigger epidemic hunger
________________________________________
© Dr Hitendra Mehta, India ????
One poetess advised me to be brief
As my words can be easily recollected
She is no more, but her advice lingers
I nowadays think of her with gratitude
Only when we are brief and to the point
Our message will be read by everyone
As, all are worried over loss of time
And brevity makes them never worry
Even if my poetry tells golden words
And it is so long like river Nile
Many may skip it in a hurry with fear
As time can never be wasted by all
Thank you dear poetess, you are great
As once you were nominated for Nobel
You belonged to the land of Socrates
Your advice is ever worth remembering
May your soul rest in peace my dear
You have opened my eyes usefully
I long back understood not your idea
Now, I know, you have benefited me
We must muse over others' admonitions
Gold and diamond may be there hidden
If we have the guts to scan and find
We and the World are surely profited !
now i know the details of the creatures
who walked around the Earth department
I always acted with them in this movie
until the projectile I sent split the base of the pavement
and the shards mark this end
what is human inside them bids farewell
they sadly greet their fate and goodbye
yes, i'm here assuming i could have been better
if I had pointed out what is hostile and said this is it
let's root out what consumes stability
before they sink into all life puddles
because if I carried them in me without words
I know that the love of my silence would be enough
to create a golden age and forgiveness
but I only seriously look to the end of the sky
and comets do their part in swarms
soon everything ceases, look how beautiful this darkness is
you're a divine creation
blessed with charming elegance
such delicate serene beauty
ever so artfully contrived
for both eyes and heart
AP: Honorable Mention 2021
The month of May is here,
To everyone dear.
Each day beautiful flowers bloom,
Displayed in each room.
Mother's Day guests.
Especially in the west.
Parents and children say,
What a nice day.
Walks in the god weather,
Where parents and children walk together/.
What shall I say,
The sun is shinning today..
Thanks be,
To the divine deity.
Author: Gwen von Erlach Schutz
young stud adonis
most beautiful of all gods
~ handsome devil too
By
David Kavanagh
Mysticism creeps in daily
Shaking her head at me
Her smiles draw my eyes
Yet do I catch her?
Not often
Unless you count the floaties in my eyes
Which is not the same thing
Or is it?
Spirituality is my go to place
Mediation is my soul center
yet for some odd reason I deprive myself her company
I know
too many hers
but my deity is a her
so live with it
or don’t
matters not to me
Silence oozed throughout the forest.
We were in our mushroom house, unaware
That Hummingbird woman was on her way.
She is a mysterious creature of prophecy
Who appears rarely to elves, more often to faeries.
And we definitely have no fairies in this elf house.
Actually, as far as I knew, faeries were make believe.
I had never seen one, and I was eight-years-young.
Hummingbird woman peeked into the window.
I screamed like I had been stung by a killer hornet
Or queen of the bumblebees. My mother slapped me.
You will scare her off! She said. Alas, she had dissipated.
It was the first and last time I ever saw a deity.
After this experience I doubted I ever wanted to see another one.
Such a pleasant greeting from thee
Bestowed me with massive glee
Being my greatest Goddess
Thy wish is vital immense
For it has a divine mien
Par excellence I just mean
Keep me ever blessed
Being my Lord full-fledged
Thy benevolent glance at me
Will make me success spree..!!
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.