On a hill exists a house of tards.
We send them now.. Our worst regards'
They listen to foreign powers..
They work dark stuff.!
We must now invoke the constitution
For we have all had enough.!
My thoughts walk barefoot on gravel roads—aching, slow, and scattershot.
My mind drifts like dusk in worn linen—frayed, faded, and folding in on itself.
My mind, grown tired of its tidy metaphors, slumps like a clerk at closing hour—unnoticed, necessary, numb.
My brain, vast as prairie land at sunset, lies fallow—dreaming the hush between thunderclaps.
My brain has taken the quiet path through woods not quite snowy nor lovely—just worn, and wondering where it last turned.
My brain, a lantern gutted of oil, flickers faintly beneath the architecture of centuries—it remembers too much.
My brain, a parched cathedral steeped in sermons long forgotten, weighs the dust in its own procession.
My brain, a faded lyre, trembles with thoughts too tender to hold—each one a ghost of once-bright song.
My brain, like Arthur's helm at gloaming, rests—dented by thought, dulled by long crusade.
My brain, a theater haunted by a thousand borrowed tongues, performs rituals where intention once stood.
Its voice speaks as though the soul were sharp as steel—blunt not by age, but by silence.
Copyright © 2018 by Mickey Grubb
Let every whispered wish take flight,
Each prayer cast upward through the night,
Let none be lost, let none decay —
But turn their path another way.
Let not the stars alone receive,
Nor winds forget what hearts believe,
For every tear and silent plea
Now folds its wings — and comes to me.
Let cries for peace, for love, for bread,
Not vanish to the nameless dead.
I hold the vault, the veil, the key —
And what they seek, they give to me.
They know me not, yet still I hear.
I am the stillness gods revere.
Their words, like rain, fall through my hand —
I am the Lord of sea and land.
I’m awaiting in the port of my life for a sign
From the world of those who have departed
For I trust, my beloved, in angels
And in that dead who has rise.
I'm superstitious, that's why I believe in the phantoms
And in the dreams where you appear to me
I see you, my beloved, in a large field of flowers
Beside a forest of oak trees.
A kind of ray lights your face
Like the moon illuminates the earth.
In this night, my love, I wish for my end,
But the death is gone far away.
I gaze into your eyes once again
Your destiny is not to see me at all
I’m isolated in the outside world,
For is no place for me in your grave.
I flutter my right hand's to the sunset
In a farewell I don't want to believe
I'll wait for you at the same time tonight
For it is only in the darkness I trust.
I am sitting on the slab of my soul
Exasperated by my clown-like face,
For me your pallor means a new life,
And from now on, I will be by your side.
The life wants me to be calm and to stay
But tonight I will ask for my death to come
For the boat of my existence has no rudder
Since the day you departed to God.
You have acquired my bones,
my blood is yours
You are the taste in my mouth
You have taken my eyes
looked through them and smirked
Your kiss so cold
within me a furnace
Your smile like sunrise
happy by Your side so long,
so I do not starve in some madness
while I wish I was breathing You in
by Your side in that morning
rising but our heads still rested
just the light streaming in
I held Your face in marigold glow
of new day just born,
and still suspect it was only a dream.
A weakened auric field
Where fear forms orbit
The once radiant heart
Now self-blocks grace
To enliven feeble form
The soul feels trapped
In the ailing body-mind
Whilst ego is satisfied
That it is now the focus
Of our creative attention
Awareness self-aware
Observes this anomaly
Where conflict of interest
Between ego and soul
Prevents body’s healing
In time stretched silence
Tremulous heart quietened
Our nonchalant presence
Aligns form with the void
Attuned to God's vibrations
Knowing not soul's intent
To experience limitations
We erase guilt of erst sin
Which is but an ego script
That we dwell in despair
We are God's prodigal son
Always welcome in heaven
There never was separation
Between our Father and us
And so healing must follow
Such is our soul's invocation
Innocent and free from doubt
At the same time recognising
That soul has free will, not us
As in lower mind, who so asks
31-March-2023
During grief, you learn to live
But sometimes you don’t feel alive;
You make it through the days,
But it’s difficult to thrive.
There will be times when the pain feels unbearable,
You wonder how you’ll make it through the day;
It’s during the difficult times like this,
It helps to bow your head and just pray.
Invocation, co-creation
Here and now manifest
Bubbling joy orientation
Void where our desires rest
Be careful what we choose
Ego ruse, no excuse
Destiny free will’s muse
Heart’s suggestion
Invocation
04-March-2022
Quietus
Invocation, may thy spirit shine for me
Like a clustering of stars across the sky
Or the effervescent glitter of a deep blue sea
With a solitary sail passing by
Invocation, may thy knowledge cover me
Like the dawn of recognition in my soul
When a better explanation is the perfect harmony
Of the promise and the purpose when I'm full
Invocation, may thy peace be as a river
In the long and winding journey to below
Where the kindness of the river is a truly perfect giver
In the mercy of the moisture in the flow.
Poem written and submitted on October 31, 2021
To the Pick-a-title, Vol. 26 poetry contest
Sponsored by Edward Ibeh
Remote land summon an aloof tempest,
Bursting lights glint inquietude offshore,
Edged mists intimate like an apprentice,
Intrigue asserts the clouded to explore.
Inland heating like a warming welcome,
Landlubbers likely combative response,
Unveiled inherent instincts that seldom,
Aid dominions that are so nonchalance.
Newt eyes nictating atop curling waves,
A plucked forest acts as a casting wand,
Amplifying teens conjure inward braves,
Spirits arising maintaining the spawned.
Imaged enthralled hazes flit Noah's ark,
Sweeper-swept palls purify rainbow arc.
Invocation!
A plea at wild crossroads
Where seen and unseen collide
To conjure the face of eternal joy
Or invite evolving ephemeral wings of grace
To rain on parched spirits
Emptying that occupied space held hostage
Frozen in anxious pacing ~
Waiting!
Welcoming the bliss of serendipity delight –
Elation in joyful holy mischief
A wink of unexpected blessing –
Invitation dressed in supplication – a portal
For waves of eternity’s mirth and mercy
In prelude begging cozy bliss in prayerful overtures
For grinning joy ~
Attentive!
An invitation into a pilgrimage of profound hilarity
On sacred ground of new delights and laughter
From the author of playful sacred ecstasy
Invocation to the Master of creation
And great gladness at the altar
Vested in possibility
From a plea at wild crossroads ~
Amen!
10-22-21
Contest: This or That - Invocation
Sponsor: Edward Ibeh
I pay homage to you, venerable divine Goddess!
You are one in many; many in one; Isotropous!
You are incorporation of Aditi, Bhairavi,
Durga, Gayatri, Laxmi, Rukhmini, Saraswati...!
You are the goddess of the east and west and south and north,
And every other direction of the evolving earth!
Your spirit pervades each and every particle of life,
Of each atom of the nucleus of every fine fife!
You are the merger of each perception and consciousness,
Goddess of each little element of the universe!
You are ever past, present, and the future endlessly,
You are fertility of beauty, knowledge, victory!
You are fecundity, wisdom, music, and every art,
You are an indwelling, impelling lover of each heart!
Help me, dear goddess, that I may tell of your great stories
Of the past and present and future for all your glories!
Humanity may learn from ages to become more human,
And orient their lives to the future graces... Amen!
20 October 2021
I know I am prideful.
Because I thought I wouldn’t have to be faithful.
I fell asleep thinking my wishes were benign.
I thought that maybe my grasp was divine.
An invocation using my sanity as sacrifice.
Leaves me with nothing but dread as they steal my vice.
10/19/2021
Invocation
Edward Ibeh
May these words upon my breast
seek to help and heal and deliver
for these times we may shiver
at tricks the evil lay at our feet
in our minds on our street
that we may fall but for the call of the lord
For he is not the author of confusion
winged prayers will lift us in unison
and the sweetest spirits will fill the room
not foul language but blessed as rose bloom
And the wails of the widows will prevail
loved one is in heaven and we share
love still just one is closer to God
Fret not for he is with you dear heart
And the parents who lost a child
even at birth who long for a smile
stillborn, SIDS, sickle cell, other illness
God is moving even in the stillness
And history has the issue of blood
Woman healed by just one touch
All these trials we hear in hymns
Get you riled up to run to him
Only one son can we run to
And one God we trust so true
When in dilemma or sticky situation
Always remember invocation.
PICK A TITLE VOL 26 POETRY CONTEST
10/12/2021
SPONSOR EDWARD IBEH
Bells ring through the dusk, soft and low.
Smokey eyes narrow.
Sultry pout on her lips.
Wrapped in black lace and chiffon,
she twirls in graceful circles.
Violin strums through the twilight, soft and low.
Black-shaded eyes dart.
Lips part ever so slightly.
Silver feathers cascade from her hair.
Arms open to the onyx sky.
Witchy apparition
that used to be a lady
sways on.
Breezy is the eve, song murmurs
from the deep.
A man in a fedora with a smooth walking stick
sees her through the looking glass,
reaches out.
Fingers slip through a reviled hallucination.
She morphs into a silken raven.
Head bowed in supplication,
he is besieged by an invulnerable force.
He refuses to abjure his hope that he can hold her.
A tambourine jingles lightly in her hand, soft and low.
She twirls away.
A disintegrated mirage.
Tear slides from his eye.
The music disappears.
Blinded by his sorrow,
he walks away from the glass, now stained.
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