Summer Hiku 10
brown cedar waxwing
devouring privet berry \
\
ground is her d n.
u i
s t b
Our God's passion for us
burns like a consuming fire
He shares our hearts with no other
for the word jealous
is His middle name
He wants to be our ultimate desire
in this world
this life and the one to come
He wants all parts of us to
be consumed by His omnipotent energy
not only the tiny portions
like the appetizers on a menu
He will prepare His consuming fire
into a supernatural sword
absent of peace
setting out like a knight
clothed in His shining armour
to devour the shrines and altars
we have constructed
for our lesser lovers
who have promised us a lifetime
of health wealth and prosperity
but instead they consumed us
with nothing but destruction
confusion and division to our souls
He refuses to relinquish
His burning passion for us
with any other creature
dead or alive
on the land
or beneath the ocean's depths
He wants to be our first
last and only knight in shining armour
Itchy Ring
The isle-
you walked yourself
Majestically, yes you did!
Smiled broadly
Veil-you removed
And declared¬----
“She is all mine!”
Today,
“Pastor, it can’t work,
She is a wolf;
devouring me,
set me free!”
“Son-
I saw it coming;
But I feared telling you the truth
Lest you, I lose.”
Man is alarming devouring all of earth's resources
When there's nothing left we will be feasting on our corpses
But that would not suprise me that's the way that man is
Ignorant to everything with uncaring survival instinct
So arrogant and blind to other options we could choose
We could be the nurtures not the ones guilty of abuse
We could harness so much more that is sustainable
But money, greed and corruption
Is the scenario on which we repeat
When we've continued to polluting all the seas
When we have finally cut down the very last tree
Will we acknowledge this as our responsibility
Or will we look to pass the blame off
And be saying this future could not be seen
Because if in fact we try to use this as an excuse for what we've done
That would simply be obscene and completely wrong!
I wish to dance with fire
Dressed, of course, in plain human attire
I wish to taste of the intensity of the heat
Swallow it and blow it back
Meaning to impose over it
My passionate authority!
Why, can't I not rule this mighty power
So mighty and so bold
So audacious and so gallant
So daring and so confident
As if it knows, that in one flick of its fingers
It can easily consume the whole of existence!
Why, having tamed it, I shall keep it in check
While enjoying it, to soothe my own inner pandemonium
Pray, fire and the feel of it
Over me and in me
Has me soaring high up in ecstatic euphoria!
Together, we shall sway with the wind's blows
Engaged always in a sensual rapture
Lost and transfixed in each other's presence
Caring never to glance at who might be watching
But, seeking only to please ourselves
With each other's fiery ebullience!
I wish to dance with fire, but pray, glancing at it raging
In the bonfire, I do wonder if I shall ever dare to!
Deep within a darkened soul
A bitter of illness illusion
A soul eagerness devouring light
Lost eyes of fiery, love's dying heart
Our passion we love but do not live
Our hunger grows but for what
Our deaths to be certain we know
A fire rage expectation
With illusion you are living but dead
Life we feel the journey walk
Faith being your only destiny
Eagerness Devouring...
There is light even in death
The Christian pathway is a war
our enemy seeks to bring us down
fights and conflict is all around
always waiting to take our crown
Be sober and vigilant at all times
you never know who's at your back
prowling and waiting for your slip
but Jesus is there keeps you on track
This enemy is like a roaring lion
always seeking and looking to devour
so important to stand fast in Christ
for He alone is your strong tower
As David fought off lions in his day
so we can likewise in the saviour's name
living with our godly Armour in place
so fear not making God's glory your aim
(Be sober, be vigilant; because your adversary the devil, as a roaring lion, walketh about, seeking whom he may devour: - 1 Peter 5: 8 )
If you were a letter
That is improbable!
I'd eat you
Though I do not digest cellulose whatsoever
Lifeless, I lie here
On the bed of lust
Under the beefy quilt
of mounting shame
With oozing hurt
And fading flame
To feed your lechery
with drops of salaciousness
Behind the closed doors
of raging prurience
As the rays of sun melt
In the heart of burning sky
I lay self down in gloom
And crouch down at your sight
As I bow, you drag me down
To feed your hungry soul
With the tender flesh
Of my puerile charm
And strangled glow
when the moon shines
Over the dying remains
Of my ebbing mind
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
My interpretation of the portrait named 'Sleeping Child'
http://www.stephaniedeshpande.com/porfolio/
all at once (circumambient & endogenous)---
365 days, 12 months, 52 weeks,
24 hours, 60 minutes, 60 seconds & then centiseconds & milliseconds etc., etc., etc.,
(you can do the math)
one wo/man with eyes peeled screaming perpetually open
in front of their prospective
screens---
hooked up,
tuned in &
the electronic stimulants being shot back at them
flicker as sporadically quick & acute as the tongue of a hydromantes
dancing, discoing, salsa-ing
atop & alongside the very retinas now fast becoming one
with the screen that they are so very close to
adhering themselves to a new destiny
a new place in the fabric of time
wherein, the devouring mechanism
sucks in
those willing to coast the wave
in which drowning is no longer an option &
the burden (and quite possible boredom) of
immortality
is brought upon their heads
10 fold.
DEVOURING PRESENCE -- REPOST
' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' ' '
gray as it may sound, i pluck
a morsel of star's daring light,
this is where i want to be... in a
stretch of spontaneous rhythm with
my wired body clamped from the noise
and haze of days' pages, pulling me into
puppet strings of gods who never
knew the magic of human sensibilities.
if trees can entwine with their
own lemon leaves so so sweetly,
and hummingbirds hug the breeze in
a stretch of flight luring a neutral
night, i must be at the center of
my constellation tiptoeing
upon grasses with a lick of wine
on the neck and a pirouette of some
whirl of a dance.. i go thirsty
for the fluid rawness of my need
to simply be.
all rights reserved
©
``` P.D's featured poem of the week contest
```
` ` `featured poem on soup : 20 march 2011 ` ` `
nette onclaud
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.