Whose voice calls in my dream?
Can it be or is it for Him?
Whose hands reveal the unimaginable*
How evident enough will its effect be possible*
In this RACE, let no patience dribbles me away
An irresistible act of catching away due to divine force
Spurs me to wantng eternal desires
Sooner, all events of the age of grace would end
Other eschatological events will b given regard
Divinely, it's of PRIVILEGE & never a right
All saints would be carried away with Him
Both dead & living will be transformed
Immortalised - whole in spirit, soul & body
Escaping the course of tribulations to come
When ANTI-CHRIST will surface earth to fulfill prophecies
Outside are dogs & sorcerers
Never had they decline His existence
But want immorality - sexually shutup around & love the practice of lie
Forever certain and fire, the will continuously cry
As living being - you get grace for DOOR remains open
Abandoning it is scary to consequence
What may bring shame & prejudice
Fear nothng and this world of vanity
Lose all & have eternity
Thats God's PLAN for man
a thousand tragedies paned
onto the community headlines
slashes the idle spirits
the wound enrages them to
seek out sadistic glee for the sake
to title themselves as 'woken.'
pitchforks and torches raised
looking for the guilty farmer
with swift words and stories
all the crops seared in the name
of the mindless chase for "justice."
“no god or jury; only us”
the next day arrives new tragedies,
sprouts new farmers to fight,
old pitchforks and torches to light
burning all but ideas
immortalised by martyrs made
from setting the flames
not one man asks for
the purpose of the hunt or be
branded as “the problem”
they walk the same burned soil
refusing to admit that they are
only casting flames on scarecrows
to the new age cult
criticism is blasphemy
indifference is hatred
master of preparation
with
pen& brush
latent energy
sparked
by
God
monumental
marvels
proportioned
in genius
marbled magnificence
of dimensional
delight
sensuality immortalised
in the
visual
the tactile
imagination
contexualised
in
contemplation
of the truth
of
salvation&
resurrected life
to come
to be
Padraig was a talented man
stroked the harp in sack-cloth kaftan
blew tin whistles sweetly
sang harmony completely
now immortalised on a Guinness can
24th February 2021
in the dust
of
butterfly wings
short stories of
immortalised era,
a
type cast 'pigeion holed'.
a history
as well as an
entertainment,written
to realise
the wherewithal
to float longer indulgences thus
they become
a truer appraisal of giftings
and motifs of manners
described in the prose
Edmund Clerihew Bentley
wrote poetry everso gently.
His greatest claim to fame
immortalised his mother's maiden name
The Oldham bloke passed me as I walked down the road
Passing me on the footpath
He was small with a slight limp
Wearing blue jeans and a black jacket
He uttered a comment:
You are a bastard
I replied: What did you call me?
He said: I wasn't talking to you, you idiot!
I added: Be careful
That's 2 insults from him
Being rude to me without knowing me
A fine example of a local male
Who I immortalised in this poem and tell you
Keep your eyes open for him
Be ready for his words
It was a ladder called Death
I found myself at its foot, a bit foggy in the mind,
Hurt in the heart and worn out with everything else
Next to it, was a signboard on which was written
"Climb with a smile or with tears, it matters not,
Whichever, you will have to climb!"
Looking back at my life, I saw only pain, suffering,
Struggles, hurt and regrets!
And now, having come to its final stage,
What was I supposed to do?
Smile or cry as I would climb the ladder?
Pray, I have smiled while I lived, I have smiled
At those moments during which I was immortalised
At those moments when everyone would tell me
You should smile more!
Yet, I was the only one aware of how empty my smile was
How empty indeed, even if it lifted others off their feet!
I looked up the ladder and saw not their end,
Since I have trained myself to smile with emptiness all this time
May I do so this time too, while climbing this last ladder known as Death!
For Contest: The Smile at the Foot of a Ladder
Written on 28th April 2019
Found bloodied and mutilated body
Sight fell on shining silver among brown bits
A ring my poetry immortalised, owned by him
With excrutiation, it actualized my life's death
Undoubtedly, reached the knife laid below to my neckline
Freedom longing soul, made my hands move hard......
Opened my eyes, realised my love is still alive...
~dream
When I put pen to paper,
The ink proves what's on my mind,
My dreams and desires,
Never knowing what I'll find.
The ink flows freely,
My head clears of any fears,
The pain in my heart eases,
My words cease my tears.
Memories of all my yesterdays,
Hopes for all my tomorrows,
Ecstasy towards my joys,
Pain caused by my sorrows.
Words spoke from anger,
Feelings of sheer pride,
Immortalised into words,
The ones I just can't hide.
When I put pen to paper,
It's not quite where I begin,
They form and grow internally,
Then I invite you in.
An epiphanic moment
pale dew drops clung to silky petals as
light breeze held wispy branchlets in its sway
blooms lay snug steeped in enigmatic scents,
waves pirouetting ,dainty in ascent
soon settled into ripples teasing seas
while mountains stood agape; tall silhouettes
of sand immortalised in castle shapes
bronze temple bells chimed mellific sweet tones
hymns circumambulated God's grand thrones
who poured their munificent boons across
the yearning ambience without restraint.
time bowed down to a standstill watching with
deep reverence; sky gleamed in bright azure
aligning solemnly with beaming sun.
and distant twilight slackened its keen steps
th a t e p I p h a n I c m o m e n t...
Date June 17 2017
Contest : Summer premier any theme any form max 25 lines sponsored by Brian Strand
Mankind.
Such a fragile thing.
Spending our days to find immortalised legend and fame.
We hide ancient desires: a primal roar of fury.
To walk in the smouldering fires of lust, murder and revenge.
A cry which echoes in the throes of time, an insatiable appetite for conflict.
Wars arranged, soldiers armed, hatred preached.
Love ferociously betrayed, decency executed, havoc wreaked.
Tap into human nature, the beast is unleashed.
Yes, love and peace make us feel warm inside… for a while.
Then comes the rising din of our flaw.
It always starts with one.
Innocence taken, anger awakens.
It’s a ripple.
Our minds cannot resist the lure of a cause.
Only to become ‘humane’ by sweeping blood off the floors.
An immortal legacy
None is immortal all destined to die
the humble mason or the wisest king
be it those winged creatures that soar humming
one day all will perish under the sky
Yet there may be much more than strikes the eye
whispering melodies resurge to sing
trail of shadows persistent lingering
enshrined in sobs interlaced with that sigh
Does one truly transcend to high heaven
Or merely swap a realm for another
Yesteryear's dad now lives in the grandson
to reweave reveries thrown asunder
As kindred souls club forged anew as one
Life immortalised through gracious venture
Contest Form I
italian Sonnet
date 28 th Feb 2017
rhyme scheme abbaabba cdcdcd
An immortal legacy
None is immortal all destined to die
the humble mason or the wisest king
be it those winged creatures that soar humming
one day all will perish under the sky
Yet there may be much more than strikes the eye
whispering melodies resurge to sing
trail of shadows persistent lingering
enshrined in sobs interlaced with that sigh
Does one truly transcend to high heaven
Or merely swap a realm for another
Yesteryear's dad now lives in his grandson
to reweave reveries thrown asunder
As kindred souls club forged anew as one
Life immortalised through gracious venture
Contest Form I (Theme: immortal )
italian Sonnet
date 28 th Feb 2017
rhyme scheme abbaabba cdcdcd
QUATRAIN WITH A NAME a tribute
Edmund Clerihew Bentley
wrote poetry everso gently.
His greatest claim to fame
immortalised his mother's maiden name
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