Stone Idol Worship
. for public domain
She gives me heavy stones to carry,
and from the other cliff,
she calls for me to hurry across
a swaying old rope bridge.
"I've shrines to build and pujas to sing
to my dearest Hindu dieties,
flowers, and hotras, pleasing spices to offer
before the daylight ends."
And as she calls the wind blows hard
through the darkening chasm yawn.
Braids of the bridge squeak from the strain.
I shudder, and chillingly creep along.
They say that love is stripped of truth, but vain,
A tale retold, a sorrow’s old refrain.
Yet thou alone my heart in bondage keep,
Thy form in every realm my soul doth steep.
To snare the cunning idol few are fain,
For she is not a toy for market’s gain.
Thy street proclaims my name, yet none bestow
Thy union sweet, though dreams within me grow.
The portion giv’n me by the lowly sphere
Is nights of wakefulness and grief severe.
Each heart that keeps a breath of loyal flame
Must walk through thorns and bear the exile’s shame.
O heart, rejoice in absence, taste thy smart,
For ease of flesh brings sorrow to the heart.
Explanatory Footnotes:
lowly sphere – A poetic metaphor for the heavens or fate, often viewed as unjust or lowly despite its power.
cunning idol – The beloved, imagined as an idol both enchanting and sly, not easily captured or possessed.
union – Mystical or romantic union with the beloved; a central theme in Persian Sufi-inspired poetry.
absence – The state of separation from the beloved, a source of both pain and spiritual growth.
smart – Here used in its older sense, meaning pain or suffering.
I trace every move you make,
I trace every note you breathe.
But you're a Mozart in disguise
How could I ever compete?
Blind with tears and rage,
I compared myself to what seemed bulletproof,
All while my doubts built up inside,
Forming an invisible bruise.
I tried to be more like you
Though I knew it was no use.
I swallowed all your words,
Like bitter, sacred juice.
What once was admiration
Turned into unhealthy obsession.
I was far too lost,
Blind to your quiet imperfections.
I called it love, but it proved to be venom.
I tried to be you, all the same.
I wore your voice like a second skin
And on the way, I lost my name.
I wish I had seen earlier: I can never be you,
No matter how I chased your tone.
After all, your song must be your own
And mine must learn to stand alone.
Give me anguish that feels like my heart has been staked,
Give me betrayal, entrapment, and hatred of my race.
Give me shame, humiliation, and painful disgrace,
But please oh please spare me, a pretty face.
*nocturne eye flicker*
*bite lip*
*rip asunder*
Malediction of a tragedy fused elegy,
mirror of red rum and visage of chaos.
The truth is a labyrinth of mirrors,
I am the reflection that stares back,
real you tryst behind quicksilver.
Sculpting his idol with magiC,
Prayers she offers saying, “HellO”!
Exclusively with leaves so greeN,
Carefully, for him a garlanD,
Imagining him as her beaU,
Always makes singing a lyriC!
Love is mad, in facT!!
The moments you can never
quite inhabit.
Floating and dodging
attempts to clutch and hold.
As if to savor, remember the taste
exactly. As if stories are heard only
through fastidious interpretation.
As if Divinity were careful. But even if
I lost you, these moments still I’d hold
above all else like worship. Like an Idol
abolishing a church-ship.
And in this you’d inhabit myself.
And not a thing can hold or keep this.
MY IDOL
My Philosopher, my Preacher.
My Dad, My Idol and My Guide.
My Adviser and my Teacher
on way of my life to proceed.
He taught Moral values of life:
Truth, Compassion and Honesty
to confront each conflict and strife.
with Self-Esteem and Modesty.
Till pursuing same discipline,
passing Morals to my off-spring
to honor, also to incline
on my views as inspiring.
Bruno’s magic. Michael’s show.
Christina’s voice. Benny’s choice.
Gordon’s mouth. Stevie’s logic
I’ll paint me as quaint.
I crave alone so enslaved to my own chaos, I’ve known the pain of loss. Above the hearts I slay, I loved her in dark & grey.
Of hate a jaded soul I paint, though in bane I’m not a saint.
I slept in fire & burned lies to ash, returned but kept admired by eyes that dash.
A suicidal emotion I’m honest, I’m the Idol Of A Broken Promise.
When Laban had gone to shear his sheep , Rachel stole her father's household gods.
Genesis 31:19
Stolen gods,
Sometimes speaking
the truth can seem critisism
while is much love.
How can gods be stolen?
Folks of different beliefs
Living with misunderstandings
How could gods enter the bag?
People of different minds and thoughts
Living with misunderstandings
Why did she stole her father's gods
after witnessing miracles
of the God of her husband?
Stolen gods,
the person who real loves
you direct you well.
Jacob real loved Rachel
and she loved him too.
Rachel loved God of Jacob without
knowing Him well
reason why she could also
value ( Idols) gods and stole them
while they could not help her.
Stolen gods,
A man made god
made from dust of the ground.
Which can not talk or see
Yoh! How can this ...protect and bless?
Some beliefs will remain questionable.
August 2/2023
You always stand tall,
Oh! My speaking Idol.
Whenever I score null,
You save me from near fall.
You motivate when I sit dull,
Say don't stop,learn to crawl.
Only I can hear you in all,
Rest are abided by the protocol.
You are not just a symbol,
Oh! My speaking Idol.
I am blessed to receive your call,
Which sounds sweet like a waterfall.
When one is mostly idle;
Laziness is one's idol:
Things are stopped in the middle;
To use your time you fiddle...
The idle hears out riddle
But feels not its sharp needle
It's a voice that can tweedle
And - watch it - feet that diddle
He can't hold horse's bridle
And while walking not sidle;
Surely can read the Bible
And try the describable
But won't any verse scribble...
On that point choose to dribble.
He fell so early from the image to the grime
And lay there, flatly oozing helplessness.
Anger, and something left of love combined,
Plunged to urge him free,
Wiped its hands and set back the idol high,
Only slightly out of plumb.
The shattering was mine.
LIVING SACRIFICE
If we would be a sacrifice
To serve our heavenly King
We must be a living one
And give our all to Him
We cannot leave a single part
To serve an idol here
For the God who made us
Is the One who we must fear
Yes, it's true He loves us
And died to bring us back
To a true beginning
Where we never more will lack
Yet the only way we'll make it
To our heavenly home
Is through our loving service
Where self is never prone
Go study how our Savior
Lived His life on earth
And you may soon discover
A brand new second birth
Where self is dead forever
And all the evil sin
Then fruit of God's dear Spirit
Will ever dwell within
Copyright, Kathryn Search
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