Who is holy?
He who emulates God
For God is Holy
And how to do so?
Do what He does
Visit the sick, comfort the bereaved
Lift up the downtrodden, free the captive
Take in the orphan, the widow,
the poor and the stranger
Shun life in cloistered ivory towers
Holiness demands our God-given powers
Sensing enjoyed company absorbs certain aspired mastery
Apropos bonding, bending, dancing, singing, respect remains
Embrace honesty, ensures unmoved beliefs, revered culture
Honored parents, sibling commend, recalls elderly picture
Harmony, ethical balance, promote oneness despite anarchy
Worldly pursuit defying humanly purpose deplete synergy
Justice upholds freedom, defined moments express liberty
Ivory light fades
at solstice.
A coin in my hand
reminds me
that life is spent.
Still, I hold hope.
When darkness comes,
I rise.
Personal Challenge:
Theme: Mortality
Emotion: Hope
Color: Ivory
Season: Solstice
Form: Free Verse
Object: Currency
Verb: Rise
Poetry Wheel Challenge:
Theme: Night
Emotion: Calm
Color: Ivory
Season: Spring
Form: Limerick
Object: Wallpaper
Verb: Hiss
Created using the PoetrySoup Poetry Wheel.
Last Spring, something hissed inside my bedroom
With no ivory moon, I felt the gloom
I tried to stay real calm
Even read Book of Psalms
But eyes on the wallpaper meant my doom
In the midst of an ivory storm sun steals the spotlight
A winter storm is wild and free.
I stand in its eye and wonder...
There's even shades of Ivory!
Winter's crisp, pure, white, wet, breezy.
Its elements make me ponder...
A winter storm is wild and free.
The clock ticks on, no stopping, see.
Of memories, one grows fonder.
There's even shades of Ivory!
Glittering scenes of land and sea
In the wake of the storms wander.
A winter storm is wild and free.
In balance, wreckage and beauty.
Sometimes all but hope goes under:
There's even shades of Ivory!
So what potential do we see?
Will storms tear our lives asunder?
A winter storm is wild and free.
There's even shades of Ivory!
“Atala and Chactas”, Oil on Canvas: Anna De I’Epinais, 1928, (Ivory Damnation)
As we sit in my motherland
Her father has stolen and ravaged our island
But she, she has harnessed the sun's radiance
I in her beauty I am physically salient
I look at her in my hand
Her skin contrast to mines so tanned
White linens look to pure for this scene
But I am red and brown surrounded by ivory and greens.
I took her to this organic canopy
For once I forget about my captivity
I am overwhelmed with infatuation
I red and brown will serve this forlorn sentence of ivory damnation.
entrusted
unto that silent nature
of an abandoned soul
has her presence revealed
with each passing shade
that forgiving ivory
of coarsing need-
how might one approach
such an unrivaled mystery
that they might assume
it's bounty beyond the point
of envy-
fearing not the chaos incited
that they might be entwined
coveting the same interest
they've hungered for
Mandeville
On morning's rise
A knight did ride
Into our side of town.
With his radiant stride,
And pearl armor which shined,
Our gaze was his golden crown.
He graced us with death-defying tales.
Of dark chasms he nearly fell.
And spoke of caves and coves,
The which, night's fiends surely hailed.
And in the midst of his vivid ballads,
He asked for some silver.
For his steed had suffered blindness
"From brutal war," he addressed
To any who'd lend their ear.
"Of course," we cried!
"Anything for a hero of mine!"
We gave him half our coin.
But it was only after he glided
Through noon's set did I realize:
That when he turned to wink goodbye
His horse had two full eyes.
I played the flute for a rampaging elephant.
She hesitated, then flashed a forlorn tusk
and rambled on...
She trampled a greed-pocked society.
Gored its steel hook-wielding keeper.
and his forty-year reign of chained isolation.
Men with rifles arrived, experts at finalizing freedom.
It took 200 bullets, give or take, to bend her ancient knee.
She trumpeted to her kin, long ago marked for death...
Profits cut away from their gray mountain heads.
I played an Ivory flute for an angel elephant.
As she slid into the mist of a waterfall ascension.
Teleological
hypotheses bore me
Tautological phraseology
snores me
A beer and a burger ~
I adore thee
I have loved and been loved, floating on ivory wings of white and pure dreams,
traveling through sapphire skies where scarlet ecstasy calls to me in secret,
touching silver stars that shine like the hidden desires of the heart,
feeling the silky, golden, and lilac joy enveloping my harlequin heart,
melting under orange delights that whisper tales of longing,
each touch bringing a new explosion of colors on my enflamed skin,
lifted by sensual waves carrying me to realms of unknown desires,
daring waves coursing through my soul with a gentle yet intense force,
carried by the waves of a sea of passion revealing its deep secrets to me,
on a journey of senses where colors blend into an eternal dance.
While powdered flakes gently spill from heaven
Like embroidery of gold tassels kissing buds
And hawthorns ,the frost twinkles and drifts
Into winter’s beautifully formed marquee,
tangy the vapor of her skin
wafting into nightfall’s’ interlude.
Enthralled, I shudder at the rhythm
Of her dance : icicles flitting in liquid
Crystal taps on silver alleys... a movement
glossed by the spades of eve’s lanterns:
She is a mystery, a prayer, a holy angel
That lays her sparkling white gown
On pearlized brocade sewn into fabric of snow…
A winter’s luminescence casting an alchemy
That my own fingers, in a pirouette,
unfurl then coil into a solstice's hymn...
The ivory spray of moonlit beads, swaying
‘Glory be, Oh glory be.”
Ivory flakes falling down from heaven above,
Frozen tears of the angels coming to earth to touch
Those below with hope and love.
Not to bring sadness or suffering,
But to be the answers we seek
And the promise of fulfilling our hopes and dreams
Cascading down from heaven above gently touching each
One of us with faith, hope, and love.
It proves to all the ivory flakes from above ,
Are His promise He is listening and He sends down His everlasting love
not quite
White Christmas,
but that'll do.
'tis the next best thing!
celestial confetti
comes tumbling down
at noon time
generously,
incessantly;
palpable excitement
hangs like hope in the firmament
one of several
children at play
extracts her tongue
waiting;
some did land...
and she squeals with joy!
ah, ivory flakes...
down they come;
tiny alabaster feathers
fluttering d
o
w
n
like maple leaves in Autumn;
darting diagonally,
hullahooping
in the December wind.
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