What’s that in the sky?
It is a plane, is it a bird?
No, it is Space Hog
Flying his magic Persian carpet
Wearing his bacon red cape.
Space Hog to the rescue again!
Delivering wavering Muslims and Jews
To the breakfast of their dreams.
In this way the world is made a better place
One serving at a time.
(2/2/26)
Time will come each will
Know God's technology called:
Glorification.
Whoever wins death
That's the last round in boxing
Last stage in faith.
One's infinite and unwavering appreciativeness and
acknowledgements of One's gratitude is miniscule and
Colossal of bits and pieces are so significant that mere
words are beyond words of gratitude is limitless beyond ones measure.
One’s infinite and unwavering appreciativeness and
acknowledgements of one’s gratitude is minuscule
and colossal of bits and pieces are so significant that
mere words are beyond one’s words if gratitude is
limitless beyond one’s measure.
I asked her in a poem
"Why do you see a snake?"
She did not respond, ever.
I asked him in a poem
"Why do I see a tattoo?"
He did not respond, either.
There are holes on the wall,
older stain, signs of learning
An absolute indication of bad reading.
And bless thee in me, to still be there.
To carry it through, through darkness, through late hours.
The Glorification Of The Day
A dissociation of the norm
to separate my senses then to form
the strength and constitution of a beast
as a lioness strong who stalks her prey
with her pride of cubs she enjoys her feast
to sleep, wake then repeat another day
like in an echo reverberating sound
another day of brilliance to resound
to gratify in a sensual mode
perchance to mingle in a quaint abode
to live a newer light in time and space
the blushing of the sun records a code
and hope is rendered at the break of day
the day dreams are answered and kept apace
Another Eight Word Challenge Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Kai Michael Neumann
July 5, 2019
Those who glorification seek
By
Sailing upon oceans of innocent blood,
Undoubtedly,
Into hell’s harbor will anchor!*
© Demetrios Trifiatis
31 October 2015
* Inspired by Liam Mc Daid's poem in fb.
If bristles are mouth
I shall use them to praise
And my hairs are mouth
I shall use them to praise
For He's leading my way upon the choice I made
For roads are many and manta devours my head
In an abyssal ocean; brain drenched of ideation,
Still I swam a fish hope for season
To change to dry, to dry my brain
Oh! Poor soul in complication
As a beetle lifting a huge rock
With its sucking jaw or beak
When difficulty comes one's means
One might turn into a goose
Little fishes of land giggled and
Stabbed me with outwards.
Um! To God be the glory
The choice I made for poetry
Gave me true dimple grin
As two lovers face each with grin
Till my night was brightened
By bright light shines as gold
Orginated from the moon.
9/10/15
I adore my LORD,
More than a pastor,pope
or muhammad.
And I am highly favoured
and blessed.
For I adore to exault the
LORD,above all creature!
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