Long Mysterydeath Poems
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I heard an angel speak last night and he said "write"
With lantern light weary I write this morbid night
The moon above the meadows move in gloomy mist
With pen in hand, hermit a man and death amidst
Oh shall I walk the aisles of graves and hundred names
With flowers full of life financed on furnished frames
Below the wind and warmth of night do whispers woe
In fear I'm not for I care take of those below
For I have seen many a man and woman cry
And I have seen many a man and woman lie
Distilled in death with only breath of the beloved
Mourning above...mornings above heavenly loved
But something is a happening around the night
If not a dream how dost darkness so quicketh light
How frogs appear around lilies that left the fog
Where branches dance with trees beyond their childrens log
As ponds appear upon plateau of grave and sand
And stars above nomadic night come down to land
And voices of the birds play like a violin
And whispers of the wind hum like a hundred men!
It is at this moment that wings appeared to be
Uplifted from the back of her in front of me
Dear Angel, ye are he that spoketh write of thee
But in the nude in front of me am I to flee?
With hair in waves and arms extended out to see
Appeared to me...appeared to be...a flame of sea
That swept the cemeteries floor with torch and fire
And all in death consumeth life 'twas her aspire
A paradise on earth and wedding full of life
As they I have buried myself were full of light!
Women and men and children spread
A graduation of the dead
Ceremonious gift of beings
Thy conquered death, thy wearest wings!
Forth in her hands were flowers of a thousand-fold
And when she walked her footsteps formed a flood of gold
With every step a flower from her drew to ground
In mystic motion as she moved her wings would sound
Just like a brush of wind, angelic crystal wings
Face of fertility that wore a crown of rings
Unselfish all in all with fingernails of fire
Did pierce my heart into my soul a strong desire
To learn to love and love to live and live to give
Yes even in the dire darkness something lives
Believe me not and no one shall when I doth tell
The timid night I heard an Angel's voice exhale
Oh Angel it is thy that is in sacred stone
That came to me in flesh and now thy flesh is gone
Johnny Sumler
June 17, 2011
Angels In Cemeteries
To every thing there is a season,
A time to bring the reasoning,
Higher logic` of heart’s project,
Into view, for the mind to review,
For some say the mind` is the only logic,
Leaving love’s heart without a project,
This mistake, takes the cake,
From this illusion` humanity must awake,
For tis the season` for higher reasoning,
And this will we do, as through God we pursue,
Love’s higher logic` God’s higher project,
An undertaking` of re-awakening,
A mind asleep, by it’s peep,
God’s Logic; the cosmic of higher mind’s project,......................................(Isaiah 55:8-9)
Love’s Faith; built on higher logic,..............................................(Hebrews 11:1-3 & 5-6)
Not on humanity’s` earthly minded projects,
For it will always try to dodge it,
By lower logic,
Actually` enough said, the lower mind level logic` is dead,.......................(Genesis 2:16-17)
While actually, God’s higher logic, the cosmic mind’s project, did not dodge it,
Respect of love` gave the choice to man, the level of plan,
By level of chosen logic, man chose his own project,
By tree of life, or tree of strife,
Would it be life, by tree of life,
Or death’s tree, of the mind’s strife,
The heart's, sacred start,
Or mind’s depart, from it’s heart,
Now you know the rest of the story, life’s glory,
For death was impaled, the stake did not fail, love swelled,...............(Colossians 2:13-14)
Drawing us all by love, above,
The logic of death,
That death` the mind did bequeathed,
Leave the dead dogs, lying in the grass,
For death has passed!!
Dedication; "Diogenes Zuniga " I though of your personal undying faith in Love, the higher
logic of God, who is love. All the while I was writing this, may God richly reward you with
many fruits of love's logical righteousness, for it is the true riches of heaven. Stay logical, in
love, my brother. Sincerely, Moses
9-25-09 johnmosesfreeman@yahoo.com
How The Dark Thinks~(BLOOD)
by Cate Rock
Blood, Oh sweet blood...
Flowing smoothly through veins of ice...
Oh how nice... Through veins of ice...
Trickle trickle,
Dark red blood falls to the floor...
I need more...
Oh I think need more...
Flowing down like a stream,
Oh young girl hold back that scream,
Little... oh only nineteen...
Me being so old, Oh so old.
So so old... to old my story,
Still today untold.
Drowning in the blood...
Sorrow fills me in a flood...
Death Death Death///
Dead is she... Because of me...
Dieing inside
An excruciating pain i can not hide.
Why oh Why
Why shall with these broken wings can i not fly?!
Dead at dawn...
Sun escapes to the sky,
dead girls on the lawn,
Why oh why...
Dead girls now will learn to fly...
With halo's and white wings,
Ruby red lips, such delegate little things...
With their death they escape...
To heaven they go,
Their blood still here to shape,
Hurt feelings i dare not to show...
A vampire dead to the world till dark.
Little girls walk around unaware their fate.
A true hunter like the white shark.
As i lurk in the dark i laugh and have learned not to relate.
Evil i know i am...
My life i already know is a sham,
But for now darkness and eternal blood filled bliss.
So i shall leave you my dear with this sample kiss.
***ENJOY***
Rate and comment i wanna know what u think!!!
(GOOD OR BAD I WANNA KNOW : )
Submission date : 2009-04-10
Form:
The gilt hand ticked with trembling tock as seconds stuttered by
The hour hand pointed midnight as the night erased the sky
The funeral Raven demon black stared down with beady eye
To ask the listening madman, the eternal question WHY?
Unholy hour, unholy night, that cloaks the sins of all
Painting world with graveyard black in mourning’s sombre pall
The wings of death he opened wide and fixed his callous eye
Again he asked the lunatic, the damning question WHY?
Beads of sweat and beads of blood with scorching fever run
From guilty hands of he who trembling stared upon the gun
The madman in his terror fell as death stare fixed his eyes
The Raven from shadowed gloom, croaked out the question WHY?
A deathwatch beetle, beat his drum, in measured even time
Echoing the fading heart of one who lost his mind
The Raven stole his sinning soul as with a final sigh
The madman whispered as he died, I know the reason WHY!
Upon the clock of living time, the hands cannot be stayed
Against each second, hour and day, lifes span is justly weighed
The Watchman Raven bides the hour when everyman must die
And few there are who answer when he asks the reason WHY?
It was about how I felt going
through the inferno The
discoveries that were
made in ancient Italian times
The pieces coming together
completeing a mysterious puzzle,
that was known by very few
and still is today
But someone ask as I question
Could these burning flames
be of eternal life refusing
to cease, I say if this is true
inferno flames between heaven
and earth shield the air
I breathe' Raging fire cease
from burning release us
from hell's gate where the shadows
of death are not far behind
in its blurr of existence
I really don't think they get it
That thing at the bottom of the
inferno causing the flames
Where the shadow of death stalks
in this place It's not a joke where
someone can escape back to their
Mamma and Daddy
as when they was a child