Long Handmaiden Poems
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The Truth is the Gift of Gods Word
for it's understanding the habitation has stirred
softly upon spirit we listen to it's call
comprehension to it's voice like a seed is small
Can you understand the wise man's riddle
apprehend interpretation the narratives trail
from beginning to end surround the middle
without understanding it's Truth you may fail
Upon the Truth are your heavens fixed
the hearing upon earth with lies are mixed
to many have reached a state of complacency
the cares of this life has choked ability
You lead upon paths unknown
a flight those having wings have flown
I tell you upon the rise of each day
that you must lead and show us the way
Oh Shepherd like a lamb you guide me
for I am lost to the flock without thee
My Lord and my God you have called us out
faith in you but confidence in self do doubt
With every gesture you affirm the way
yet evermore before me do my sins lay
I look around upon those I do see
whose lives are worth much more than me
The seventh day Jehovah has blessed
where mankind will enter into his rest
abundance of joy will fill the earth
as Gods Kingdom has given birth
The fruit of her labor is worldwide
she will wipe the tears her children have cried
Gods woman has brought forth Life
she will train the children remove their strife
You are God from the womb of my mother
have preserved me from violence of brother
your handmaiden as captive I serve
given more than anyone here deserve
I listen to the music of your call
understand I grace given since fall
for to live is Christ and to die gain
and within the hand of your Love remain
Forsake me not when I reach that hour
frail woman in mankind has not power
give me courage so I don't therein cower
for I have beheld the future from your tower
Oh my gentle Lord your path holds no discord
our seas turned to glass when we do as asked
neath your wisdom do kneel as truth you reveal
all thinking given you and insight given true
Hold me close and in your arms
for hear I do the trumpets alarms
you have signified my death
for those you love I give my breath
Hold my hand on the path you take
for I am weak and easily brake
a thing that is soft and frail
for those you love like Lord impale
Now I know the path to you
by example your loved showed true
willing I am to give you my life
like anointed Son did for wife
source JOHN 3:16 Romans 12:1-2
COPYRIGHT © 2009 C Michael Miller
The Non-Sublimininal Criminal
High Priest of Hypocrisy
The Diplomat of Draft Dodgery
The Great Example of Paying Test-Takers
The LoudMouth of Wealthy Fakery
The Main Proof of Miseducation
The Nanocrat of Non-Payment
Potentate of ***********
Sultan of **** Patronage
The Grand Probah of PooPoo
The Big Wheel of Blather
And Salesman of Bull-puckey
High Lama of Skullduggery
The Master Purveyor of Inaccuracies
The Pride of Misrepresentation
The Scion of Misdirection and Nepotism
The Black Knight of Spite
Grand Lizard of Hate and Bigotry
The Fometer of Torment
Master of Catastrophe
The Master of the Quick Disaster
The Worshipper of War by Proxy
Lover of Lies and Liars
The Promises of Pusillanimity
The Handmaiden of Bribery
Worshipper of Massive Greed
The Purchaser of Fake News
The Dandy with Unseen Clothes
The Undead Ghost of the Capitol
The Horrible Haunt of the Presidency
Embodiment of Embracement
The Shamelessness of Gross Shuckers.
Mother and Angel
What thoughts gather in your mind, Mary,
Eyes looking down in the morning light?
Do you still hear the sound of an angel’s voice –
Can you hear the sound of angel wings?
God’s light shines through you, simple handmaiden;
You reflect all the glory of the Lord;
Your soul rejoices in God your Savior
As the Lord looks tenderly upon the favored one.
What thoughts speak in your mind, Mary,
Eyes looking down in an evening prayer,
Do you see the child to come –
Emmanuel, Messiah, Anointed One?
Do you see the sword piercing your heart?
Can you count the steps on the roads you travel?
Do you see a cross stand on a lonely hill?
Can you see into the Resurrection?
What thoughts gather in your mind, Mary
In midnight dreams wrapped in pale moonlight?
Do you still hear the sound of angel wings
In the echo of your answer “Yes!”
December 4, 2019
Contest: Writing Challenge - I Want Christmas Poems – December
Sponsor: Dear Heart – Wiishkobi Ode
Shiver if you will, I will seed your dreams, it is my way
and though the days sun may linger longer ...
it will not warm you.
A handsome handmaiden is the month of May
but, I roar and rail, temper tossed and ambivalent
~if you have no heat
~~if you despise emptiness
and do not wander in wonder at the shapes between the lines
do not call my name, Janus …
for I am the God of doorways.
My arms are always open.
May each domicile shiver at my breath
in nail popping fright, as bats harbor in their eves.
I will seed your dreams with portents.
~Rub sticks shorn, and to fire bring the kindle
for, the insight of my light may burn.
Poet: D. Guzzi
Contest: Personification of January
HANDMAIDEN OF MOON DANCING
fly me to stars in the thrill of one swan night
over a crescent arc to feel a flame of sighs,
teasing dreams so silent yet ever wild
and like a neon light, speak through your feet ,
your ribs twirling in drips of summer’s rage : throw
away the restraint of confined movements
dictated by a body unmoved; of a flower
keeping her flutters from crawling freely on grass
give me a sway through leaps unto ocean’s swell
without need for thought or reason, rather,
lift the flesh made from love or hate, to burst
with primitive heat; fingers liquid in motion unbidden
by a sacred place that doesn’t exist on earth, when
all but the fragrance of a naked skin expresses
the very force that writhes in the faint of depth,
licking the cells inside out.. weightless, bold, soft
dance the crazy dance with me just because
such passion needs to flow along rhythms
burning within… till a weave of spin breaks
into a trance blending a wanton glide with
pirouetting flights raw in some meadow clearing,
pious pose under the tangerine of touch…
handmaiden of moonlight dancing on flames
pluck those eyes ,rise above mortal remains.
©
*i tweaked this free verse with a sonnet’s volta
in the last two lines (10 syl rhyme count instead
of the usual 8 syl pattern)
----------
*Martha Graham is the pioneer of modern dance. As a ballet dancer
and choreographer, she introduced inner movement emphasizing
emotion, spontaneity, and an exploration of psycho-social themes
( feminism, political protest, and labor unrest)through free -flow
of innovative steps, thwarting cultural control over conventional,
metered dance. Her last performance on-stage was in 1970,
at the age of 76; she was working on the choreography for the Olympics
when she died in 1991 at the age of 97.
Graham was awarded the Presidential Medal of Freedom in 1976
by President Gerald Ford and cited by Time Magazine as
"Dancer of the Century" in 1988, aside from her other accolades.
*Source: Wikipedia.com and www.voanews.com
*Please watch
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OUoMc5Am_c0&feature=related
‘ ‘’’’’ ‘’’’
For Cyndi Mac Millan’s Maverick by nette onclaud
she comes in the night
cloaked in frost and snow,
quiet as a breath held too long,
stripping the leaves from the trees
with the same tenderness as a lover’s goodbye,
painting the world in shades of blue
like an old memory that won't fade.
she is my handmaiden,
the messenger of cold,
harbinger of endings,
but i am not afraid.
i've learned to welcome her,
to feel her icy touch against my skin
as a reminder of everything that must pass.
with every caress,
a flower wilts,
a bird falls silent,
and people huddle close,
seeking warmth and comfort
in the flicker of firelight.
but in her cold, i find beauty—
a kind of peace that feels more real
than the warmth i seek.
in her breath, i hear stories
of things long lost,
of battles fought on frozen fields
where no one wins,
of lovers whose names time has erased.
her whispers hold them all.
as she moves through me,
leaving frost in her wake,
i am reminded
that nothing stays.
all things must end—
and so, i hold her close,
my handmaiden,
dancing through the night with her
until spring comes
to claim me once again.
Les Bijoux (The Jewels)
by Charles Baudelaire
loose translation by Michael R. Burch
My lover nude and knowing my heart's whims
Wore nothing more than a few bright-flashing gems;
Her art was saving men despite their sins;
She ruled like harem girls crowned with diadems!
She danced for me with a gay but mocking air,
My world of stone and metal sparking bright;
I discovered in her the rapture of everything fair;
Nay, an excess of joy where the spirit and flesh unite!
Naked she lay and offered herself to me,
Parting her legs and smiling receptively,
As gentle and yet profound as the rising sea,
Till her surging tide encountered my cliff, abruptly.
A tigress tamed, her eyes met mine, intent ...
Intent on lust, content to purr and please!
Her breath, both languid and lascivious, lent
An odd charm to her metamorphoses.
Her limbs, her loins, her abdomen, her thighs,
Oiled alabaster, sinuous as a swan,
Writhed pale before my calm clairvoyant eyes;
Like clustered grapes her breasts and belly shone.
Skilled in more spells than evil imps can muster,
To break the peace which had possessed my heart,
She flashed her crystal rocks’ hypnotic luster
Till my quietude was shattered, blown apart.
Her waist awrithe, her breasts enormously
Out-thrust, and yet ... and yet, somehow, still coy ...
As if stout haunches of Antiope
Had been grafted to a boy ...
The room grew dark, the lamp had flickered out.
Mute firelight, alone, lit each glowing stud;
Each time the fire sighed, as if in doubt,
It steeped her pale, rouged flesh in pools of blood.
This translation has been adopted by **** and escort websites!
The Perfect Courtesan
by Michael R. Burch
after Baudelaire, for the courtesans
She received me into her cavities,
indulging my darkest depravities
with such trembling longing, I felt her need ...
Such was the dalliance to which we agreed—
she, my high rider;
I, her wild steed.
She surrendered her all and revealed to me—
the willing handmaiden, delighted to please,
the Perfect Courtesan of Ecstasy.
Alas! Just like poor Rapunzel, poor Princess Fauna was imprisoned in the highest wicked tower in her entire kingdom! Princess Fauna had long natural golden hair just as long and sturdy as Rapunzel's. Rapunzel was rescued by a thief, whereas Princess Fauna was rescued by a white knight in sterling silver, astride a white noble steed also called "Silver."***
"Hark! What sounds do mine own ears hear?" I hear the thundering hoof beats of a noble steed! Pray chance Almighty God, Thou hast sent one of Thine own knights to rescue me? Have mercy and loving kindness towards me! And smile favorably down upon Thine handmaiden from heaven's lofty heights." ***
Riding with the speed of the wind was a brave young knight clad in sterling silver armor. He posses a sword of truth, justice, liberty and honor. There was a bright and shining rainbow above his noble crown. Whenever he lifted his sword of justice towards God's lofty heavens', lightening bolts struck his holy and mighty sword!***
The royal knight Justin Freeman aimed his sword towards the fierce and fiery Satanic dragoons imprisoning the poor princess! Bolts of heavenly lightening came forth from his sword of liberty! The enemy's dragoons were struck dead by lightening. He then used his sword to pierce the black hearts of the demonic dragoons sent by Satan. And his victorious sword was drench with their lives' blood. ***
Then Princess Fauna let down her golden hair, and Royal knight Justin Freeman, ascended into the tower. Next they used her long golden locks to descend the evil tower. Finally he aimed his sword directly at it, and it bursts into flames. ***
They sang, danced and rejoiced and praised the Lord for its destruction! And the destructions of the evil dragoons! They rejoiced over the defeat of Satan and his minions! The forces of goodness and light were victorious over the forces of evil and darkness!
He then carried Princess Fauna on his noble steed "Silver" unto his own kingdom of goodness and light. Where God Almighty was the only God
worshiped and recognized! "And they lived happily ever after." ***
Love in Christ Jesus!
Roxanne Lea Dubarry
Roxy Lea 1954
Roxy 1954/ October Country
November 11, 2020
If man has become the measure of all
Our world anon will crumple and shrivel
Without a moral compass to keep us in thrall
Failure and success,the deadly ploys of the devil,
Or the cold ugliness of hideous revenge
Could inflict defeat on the Prime Mover's mission
That, discipleless, He can no longer challenge.
And so to Satan leaves us in submission
Man exists in a festering and noxious swamp
Where reason plays handmaiden to naked power
And shameless words service man's pride and pomp
A Voltaire is most sorely needed at this hour
To bring us back into the pure light of the sun.
If ,alas, there is no God,man must invent one.
Wish You Were Here
The hay bales golden, crimsons and ochre sere leaves fallen-- the caw of the Jackdaw
There was no Nightmare until after the fall, painted and swooned like a Fuseli
the clouds float in staccato and layered rich tones: vibrato from sparrows joins the chorus
the suffering alluring woman frail calling on Nature, who chides the mawkish
yet still holds in her in Her own way,
as she ambles and thinks of loves’ long ago
sadness your becoming frailty; weakness a handmaiden, its alluring on you
and there is a mourning call from the maw of the jackdaw
and the skies go crimson, deep ambers until a now purplish blue
and the clouds become negatives as rotation continue-- I see the first star
appear and think of all the females who thought love’s true
“Boot in the face, the brute. brute heart of a brute like you” said Plath
Tolstoy’s males prevail, the amative women frail, and frailty is true
The tender heart a pulpy thing is simply the mind at war
And Nature now turned to dusky twilight transforms her as before