we should have named him the destroyer
our dog shreds up tablets like a defense lawyer
paper towel rolls are crucified by him
he willing tears up our shoes and boots on a whim
Even as the forest grew thin and frail,
The trees kept cheering the axe.
For the axe was cunning — smooth with speech,
And wore a handle carved from their flesh.
It whispered, “I am one of you,”
And they believed —
As the sound of chopping became their anthem,
And their roots trembled beneath their faith.
They fell, one by one,
Singing loyalty to their destroyer —
Until the forest was gone,
And only the axe remained,
Lonely, with nothing left to cut.
The moment I realized 11 and 17 should never be stains my brain so deeply I don’t think it will ever wash away.
Don’t be fooled by the meek and the mild
In life, things can get wild.
As a child and as an Adult, Jesus fulfilled the Law
We have a Great Saviour
We also have a Great Destroyer of gods
God hates injustice, and we know that He will act
That is a fact because our Heavenly Father
Will React at the right time
Let us not fear
Jesus, the Destroyer of gods, is near.
Mark Frank
Copyright 2025
The Stubborn Heart”
Stubborn as stone, he stands his ground,
Words like rivers, he won't let them drown.
Eyes set firm, with fire and pride,
Even truth must wait till he's tried.
He sees threats wherever he may go,
Every word—a weapon poised to throw.
Sharp as knives, his cold replies,
Send chills down spines and truth to lies.
He hides his pain, but weeps in the shade,
Regrets and traumas carefully laid.
In silence he curls, where no one can tell,
A prisoner of pride in his own shell.
But even stone can crack with time,
And healing grows where love will climb.
A touch, a word, a hand held tight—
Can lead him gently back to light.
Unity and serenity, the farm had breathed,
For ages, superb it has been.
On it, Mr and Ms Farmer had lived blissfully.
Harmony, children had witnessed
Before a hyena in a mask of a farmer,
The woman viciously hosted.
To colossally splinter the farm’s sulk
For he offered tiny cents to her,
To morally slay the farm owner,
Like the Serpent withered Eden.
Poem by Mugisho N Theophile
Listen, my shipmates and you shall hear
A tale of adventure and a sea career.
I shall never forget that cold clear day
When I left the shore of ‘Gansett Bay.
The sight of my ship was one of joy
As she lay tethered to a mooring buoy
And on her bows her numbers clear
Ever more grand as our boat drew near.
I had barely stowed my gear away
When the boatswain’s pipe began to play.
‘Now go to your stations, the sea detail.’
My ship and I were about to sail.
And so began my maiden trip
In my new home, this long gray ship.
Then later, as a a gunner’s mate
In charge of a five-inch-thirty-eight.
How often we were flung about
In our greyhound out at sea
As our dripping forefoot rose and fell
But nowhere could we flee.
Now three decades worth of sea
Has passed beneath my keel
Not all those years were filled with glee
But most were passed with zeal.
My shipmates - now with Davy Jones
And soon I’ll join that crew,
And we’ll all dance on Fiddler’s Green.
On watch, awaiting you.
Love so easy when stars align
One kiss one touch you are mine
We enter realm of truly sublime
What went wrong? I missed first sign
'twas the criticism you did design
no longer can I worship at your shrine
You took my love so freely given
Forget forgiveness you won't be shriven.
This started out as a vaasokht but am afraid it did not follow rules entirely.
The destroyer
We know the world has gone mad a chicken takes care of a puppy
while we drop bombs on children in Yemen
In Gaza, they celebrate Christmas with a rocket display from Israel.
we know there has been a turnaround we were afraid if Gestapo
while the Israeli are in full flow creating a new holocaust but of course
they will say they have the right to defend themselves
Hezbollah is bombed and shot at they are not shooting back for now
they will wait until Israel sink into abjection and the world will open
Its eyes and see what the murderous thugs have done.
And then it is time for Israel to drop the nuclear bomb the will
destroy themselves and all the evil they in a short time have created.
Pen mightier than the sword, impales upon nothingness
for utterances are omnipotent, as a force of nature
My one encoded word, now incinerates our entire planet
Dear god forgive me, I’ve launched all the nukes.
From my poem
Most dangerous call ever made,
Liberum Divisa 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Gregory R Barden
01/12/2020
A-lcohol
R-ightfully
N-egates
U-nknown
L-ink's
F-ury
O-nce
E-pidemic
D-estroyer
E-mploys
J-eopardy's
E-erie
R-abidity
Topic: Birthday of Arnulfo G. Edejer, Jr (May 18)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
Don't argue with stupidity for it's a losing battle.
Don't cast pearls of wisdom 'neath the feet of swine who trample,
Everything that's in their path devouring all that's good,
'Stead of thinking of tomorrow as good sense would say they should.
A murderous swine thinks but for now, he feeds his hunger now.
Tomorrow is another day why think of when or how,
His next meal will come to him, he'll worry then about it.
He'll just take care of here and now and so tomorrow's forfeit.
He can't see that he destroys that which feeds him daily.
He continues on his way devouring, gorging gaily.
He cannot see that he prepares his own neck for a noose,
So he continues to destroy and kills the golden goose.
Twenty teens relic of Poetry Soup
Self richeously titled 'Destroyer'
Pours gallons of gobblety goop
Franchised vagueness purveyor
Esteemed evaporates as steam
Puffed vapours stutter once were
Sophistication of learning machines
On command deliver similar blur
Structure secures tenures
Moulded by word discernment
Evolving phrasing reverence
Salutes Her Honour's adjournment
Sock drawer tipped upside down
Displays threadbare mismatches
Spilled contents far less profound
than moment incubation hatches
Simmering pungent chopped onion
Shrunken potential, slips translucent
Terrified writer uses cliche crutches
Readers' precious alliance loosened
A.I inhales sailing sequence snippets
Derivative diminishes in computer reign
Harddrive heartache flimsily depicted
Random frequent phrases fail to explain
Gathered calamity of data diaphanous
Hive imput spits cacophony deafening
Authenticity bears value of writers
Trophies consciousness refreshing
You can’t hurt them. Only I can be hurt now.
Three spirits rule the world
Spirit of God the Creator
Spirit of Satan the destroyer
And Human spirit
As a free moral Agent
Human spirit has freedom of choice
To yield to God’s spirit
Alternatively be ruled by evil spirit
Evil spirit is the cause of pain
Makes victims live without gain
Thereby see their God in bad light
To devil’s eternal satisfaction and delight
The spirit of God is with us
Progenitor of human existence
To Him we owe the fruits
With which to destroy the power of satan
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