And now, finally, the curtain is falling on Palestine and
there will be no Palestinians left to set free, erased from history.
March of history at its cruelest, a grand tragedy foretold,
by the misprints of victims on history's canvas, painting white on grey,
to the point of oblivion.
If history was pregnant with an alternative, we may never know, only the end of line on this bus of history, with crystal clarity.
History is a bastard tree drenched in blood, always groomed by the victors, with only marginal notes by the vanquished, like so many weed to root out with sharp blades, beheading the hope of a nation.
Peace is nowhere to be found, gone for good, like an alienated neighbor travelling to distant territories, for self-preservation.
and suddenly darkness crept up
with an eerie november sky
~ a sign of things to come
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
*****
This New Year has been foretold.
Your future is at hand.
God knows the fate and outcome
of each and every man.
God has chosen the narrow road.
His wisdom is leading the way.
His great strength can carry your load.
His compassion you will feel every day.
With a new dawn over the horizon,
and the Lord to lead the way,
you can spread your wings like an eagle
and soar through every day.
12-13-18
A Brian Strand 1091
sponsor, Brian Strand
Judged 03/18/2022
~~ 1st ~~
Irigidi in Ondo State of Nigeria
You are by no means the least
Of the leading towns in the country
For out of your stock came forth a prophet
In the mold of Elijah and Elisha
His coming was foretold
By God’s General of old
Rev. A.A Allen
That a mighty prophet of God
In the description of prophet Tb Joshua
Would walk out under the anointing of God
Bringing healing and miracles to
Multitude of people simultaneously
That prophecy was fulfilled June 12 1963
As God’s General Temitope Balogun Joshua
Was born and still lives among us
And through the instrumentality of
Emmanuel television
God Almighty uses him
To bring miracles healing and prophecy
To humanity
In his onerous task of
Changing lives
Changing Nations
And changing the world
Happy birthday prophet!
Continue to do what you were born for
What you live for
And what you will die for!
Blackened universe
sprinkled with centuries
alight in resplendent diamonds
veiled celestial archway
dancing against the velvet darkness
an endless sea of origination
a luminous heaven
vast in unknown desires
deep exhalation in the abyss
skies blanketed in wisdom
arrested beauty in light
I intone, in reverence
she gazed
i forgot to
shave into
my hairy
ball's
she said
i see
i see
it's fuzzy
and blurred
something
lovingly
unheard
almost
absurd
rasp
berry
pancakes
with a honey
a sweet syruppy thing
Were these dreams foretold, or Happenstance
These dulcet Whispers of prophesy
From bereft desert to Dank green soil of rebirth
With you; only a Daub of dust as reminder
That I ever doubted the path to us, the Folly of
Remorse for yesteryear's Wafting redolence
Perchance, the reign of rash impulses
In the limit of foresight, were the Flutters
Of emerging wings, lifting me to hope's
Horizon, and landing in your hands.
1/22/19
Eight word challenge-Bardenesque
Sponsor: John Hamilton
CULLODEN FORETOLD
A man he once said ta'e me,
You'll lay on heather, your gut will bleed.
Near Inverness you should na'e be,
Your end is there upon thee.
I paid no heed, jumped to my feet,
Charged through the Highlands, sword in sheath.
Loyalty to the Stuarts was my belief,
and to the end that will be.
The charge has stalled, and is no more.
The Duke has trained his English Score,
to stand and fight, not run as before.
This man who spoke has told me.
On this ground I now will stand,
dirk at side, sword in hand.
Bring on my foe, I now demand,
The day has come, God save me.
The volley came, smoke thick as fog.
We charged into the peat and bog,
They stood as one, and stopped our trod,
and slaughtered all that will be.
And now I lay, my gut has bled.
A man by me, still live, not dead.
A Brit comes near, thrusting as he treads,
kills him and I as foretold to me.
Graham Alexander Devenish
I saw you in a dream foretold
one winters night in the cold.
You became and image in part
of and old man's broken heart.
The dream begins every night
I close my eyes, it takes flight.
As I awake to dawns new day
I find my soul was taken away.
Love is for the young and old
it can't be brought or even sold.
But the dream that is foretold
can be forgotten and even stole.
A woman who knows her heart
met a man who knows his guard
She was eager, burning,
Almost fervid
He was hesitant, cautious,
Almost pallid
She took a step towards
He took ten back
Her lens was pink
His lens was black
She wanted to hold on
He decided to discard
A woman who knows her heart
Met a man who knows his guard...
Foretold? Angels?
When you have sex, and you really love the other,
You know sometimes if you’ve fertilised and conceived,
And Mary and Joseph’s love must’ve been strong,
As marriage was the portal demanded and perceived.
So Mary hallucinated after some months and knew,
She was pregnant as an angel to her appeared,
When fear overtook her because of the derision,
That would occur from the social scene feared.
So she decided to turn to god, to the Jewish temple,
And be inhabited by the holy spirit admired divine,
And she coined the term Son of God most high,
For her bastard boy who otherwise wouldn’t be fine.
John the Baptist was simply the boy’s friend, same age,
Knew him inside, loved him and understood his heart,
Comprehended his capacity to attend to the poor,
For their health and longevity so ignored and tart.
So John, as Jesus’s best friend, prepared the way for him,
Set him up with his career, said his work should be accepted,
By just equating Jesus with god, love, justice and liberation,
For the poor and downtrodden who were very much rejected.
Luke 1
How are those that hate,
like those who love,
when love is just a gate
to the other hates,
that we feel arn't rough
enough to steal our souls.
How are those that care,
like a ferry to a despair,
that we have always feared
from those never there,
yet care is enough to sooth our bones.
How is life so fleeting,
yet always meaning,
too soon to tell,
too late foretold.
the madman stands
with clutching hands
and shakes Eliot’s geranium
what you hold
has been foretold
but he just stared distantly
at the void
and a vacuous comment
slipped like mist
over the trees, the height
of conversation
- such a vacuous nation –
fools, cads and in moral poverty
what does the future hold?
or does it just shake
the geranium?
what have you been told
of days of old?
it’s the day of new
where hope serves few
"I have seen prophesy come true
just as it had been foretold,
and prophecy has told me
that I will kill you cold,"
but he killed me first
with his very first blow,
and then he said to me,
prior to my being deceased,
"Don't believe everything that you are foretold."
Ingratitude for Mother Nature's gifts
and our desire to live with greatest ease
have caused strange outcomes; now our planet shifts
climatically by frightening degrees.
With dwindling faith, I've watched as humankind
continues recklessly upon Time's path,
careening or half-stumbling as if blind
to what's to come when we receive Earth's wrath.
We're led by fools and thieves who do not lead
with vision. All around, inequity
abounds as love is killed by war and greed.
This planet's final hours I think I see. . .
Our fate's foretold. An unforgiving earth
by burning will be purged for its rebirth.
“Please Try to Go Beyond Earth Hour”
Here is my tip in poetry form:
When out and about, take the shortest route.
Run your errands all on the same day.
A tip - move those hips! Cut down on your trips
in your car, and save gas that way!
Related Poems