Long Sicknesses Poems
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Collaboration with Marcello Eans
Why are you all bound and determined to destroy me?
What have I done to you that makes you hate me so much?
I’ve given you life and provided for you families.
You’ve done nothing in return but ruin what you’ve touched.
Timber – and my limbs fall, leaves will wither.
Paper bags & adult mags, end result is litter.
Trash & filthy waste, landfill in my face.
Trees, an endangered species you can never replace.
Forever you’re chasing wildlife for game, not need.
Carcasses scattered abroad, they get shot & bleed.
Prodigal sons, generation of wasteful people.
Ungrateful & insecure, you alter your facial features.
I don’t feel the least bit guilty for causing earthquakes,
Or, from the mountaintops, raining down fire and ash.
I watch with a grin as you all try to claim your stake
And find a safe place where you hope to avoid my wrath.
Tsunamis that misplace mommies, families divide.
Airborne sicknesses and death hide in mudslides.
The pains of hurricanes, reminiscent of Genesis
Wipeout the lifestyles of the wicked & innocent.
Just as man is never satisfied, destruction isn’t either.
These disasters consume life to make you believers
In that you reap what you sow in this life of lust.
Return from whence you came, ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
“My brother would not have died if You’d been with us!
I ne’er thought You would not be here,
You knew him he was sick to death,
And we kept our belief on Thee,
Thou wert elsewhere with Thy disciples,
And we sent Thee a word of supplication.
We knew not our supplication touched Thee or not,
Yet we believed in The, the Man of God.
You knew we’re all in distress and so we cried unto Thee.
The Scriptures revealed of Thy Power of God,
And so we longed for Thy Presence.
But why did You leave us in distress?
Thou hast taught us that Thou wilt be ‘midst two or three in Thy Name.
Now our brother is dead. Where’s our faith?
Have we sold our faith to our doubt in Thee
Or Thou art testing our faith in Thee?
The world is in pain and sorrow, engulfed by sicknesses,
Can we doubt whether Thou art with us or not?
The Scriptures say:” this world is held by the Tempter,
So pray unceasing to escape this evil world.”
The Scriptures have foretold:”the Son of Man would be crucified,
Buried, but would be raised on the third day.”
Is our inward eye hidden from Heaven’s mystery?
The Son of Man’s mind speaketh:
“My brethren, My Father hath a Divine Plan for thee all,
And I AM the Mediator ‘twixt thee and My Father,
And I can’t tell thee of My Father’s Plan,
For He hath His own time to reveal unto thee all,
And the time is in Me to call thee all unto Me,
So I must lay my fleshy body into corruption for thy sins once for all.
Ye all knew how sin entered this world ---- by Disobedience!
Sin is My Father’s deadly foe and doubt is a sin.
The first parents doubted God’s Command and so died,
Yet My Father opened a New Way in Me.
A few found the Way, but many lost by their selfish gods.
Ye, folks of the world! I hear you all say:
“If You’d been with us, we would not have been left astray.”
The Scriptures say: “My Father is Omniscient, Omnipotent and Omnipresent.”
I never leave thee, I never forsake thee,
For I AM yesterday, today and forever.
Thou doubted My Father’s Presence with thee,
And I say: ‘doubt is a sin.’
And a sin has its consequences, and the sinner has to bear them awhile.
Have no doubt in Me, and I Will be with thee all.”
The most dangerous sicknesses are those that make us believe we are well.
Lauren Oliver
sunrise transcends from thousand white moons
enamelling specks of gold over a vast mindscape
untamed ocean, hypnotic in opulence of delight
losing in timeless fathom, all beginnings and ends
In daze of hazel eyes, a pale destiny painted red
concoction of stardust in resplendent phoenix flame
Iconic images in mesmeric limerance of rhapsody
play a subtle movie, in slow tempo, treble with bass.
An entangled world of uncensored thoughts meander
condescending a center of cinematic subconscious
dissembling into a daydream swimming wonderlands
Van Gogh's Starry Nights seducing languorous senses.
a pleasant hangover , still drunk in my weariness,
don't wake me, I'm piqued in amor deliria nervosa*
an everlasting fantasy stretches in kohl of my eyes,
an Illusion of life gasping, or is it death in disguise?
*Amor Deliria Nervosa (or just deliria) is a disease in the fiction series Delirium Trilogy by Lauren Oliver. It is set in a dystopian world where love is considered a disease called Amor Deliria Nervosa, but scientists have invented a cure for it.
18th July 2020
Sponsor Kai Michael Neumann
Contest Name Delirium |
This Poem is dedicated to all my Christian friends on Poetry Soup
and else where in the world in the festival month of Xmas.
A Poem on a Story from Bible 1 of 2
The Healing at the Pool
One fine morning
When the Sun was spreading
Its refreshing morning breeze
On the soil of Jerusalem. 01
All the sick and suffering people
Had started gathering
On a spot
Named as Five Porches
At the place, known as ‘Sheep Gate’. 02
They all were here
So that they may get a chance
To have a dip in the holy water of the pool
Of Bethzatha*
To get rid of their sufferings and sicknesses. 03
The desire and wish
To touch the holy water and
To get well soon
Had brought them there
In spite of their pity deplorable conditions. 04
On that fine beautiful morning
Along with the rising Sun
Jesus had come to Jerusalem
For a religious festival. 05
He was standing on one of the porches
And was looking towards those people
Who had gathered there
With all the love and kindness
In his heart for them
For all those
Who were either sick or blind,
Lame or paralyzed
Or had sufferings of some other kind. 06
Ravindra
Kanpur India 8th Nov. 2012 To be concluded soon in Part 2
July 3 Praises to God Bible Meditations Based on Psalms 106-110
Key Verse – Psalms 106:2 Who can utter the mighty acts of the LORD? who can shew forth all his praise?
PRAISE BE TO GOD FOR HIS MIGHTY ACTS
Praise be to God for His mighty acts, always:
Powerful exposing His salvation
Perfect that props our sanctification
Praiseworthy, propelling our stewardship
Purposeful against slothfulness sowing shame
Performance-pushed toward our steadfast service
Psalms 107:43 Praise be to the Lord for
making us understand His lovingkindness and His:
Rejoicing mirth
Ransoming might
Redeeming mercy
Re-creating miracles
Rejuvenating majesty
Psalms 108:1 Praise be to the Saviour for
fixing our hearts toward His:
Grand hope
Glorious holiness
Generous happiness
Gracious helpfulness
Good heralding of our home
Psalms 109:27 Praise be to the Almighty
for His hands that:
Care for our sorrows
Calm down our struggles
Carry our sufferings and sacrifices
Comfort our souls against sicknesses
Carve our spiritual status as His saints by His strength
Psalms 110:1 Praise be to the Creator
for ruling over us by His:
Absolute precepts
Assuring promises
Assertive proofs of power
Authority against perilous pursuits
Affirmative providence with His plan. Amen!
July 3, 2024
Her son died when he was but a child…it was way beyond her belief…
She wrapped him in her arms and walked around…unable to control her grief.
She walked from house to house…”I’m looking for medicine for my son” she said.
Some felt pity…some laughed saying, “Whoever heard of medicine for the dead.”
She finally wandered to the feet of a wise man…she cried, “Oh please wise one….
can you give me medicine…medicine for my son?”
The wise one said, “I will make your medicine…but you must travel the countryside…
And bring me grains of mustard seed from every household in which no-one has ever died.”
The woman was delighted…at last a way to bring her young son back to life….
but at the first house where she stopped …the man had recently lost his wife.
The woman listened to his story with sympathy…as he made his feelings known….
understanding the grief he still felt…was similar to her own.
And at every house she turned to…on every face…with every breath
She heard stories of long sicknesses…of tragedy and of death.
When she began this mission she thought she was alone…
that no one else had cared
But now she felt a little differently knowing the grief she felt was shared.
With tears in her eyes she returned to the wise one…her mission finally done
understanding the grief she had been feeling…has been felt by everyone.
She handed her son to the wise one…who was the first to understand her woe
Having found her grief a little easier to accept…
she found it a little easier to let him go.
All this global speech that once lauded your greatness has vanished.
My lips are crying today because of my misdeeds.
The harvest was completely washed away in the high winds.
Diseases and sicknesses, with fire, threaten scavengers.
Because I am shy, I cry slowly and sloppily.
If someone's feelings are bruised, a wipe may be beneficial.
Companions with crooked mustaches.
Backstabbing and spying are both kinds of treachery.
Who grasps what happened to the planet Earth.
Shame no longer benefits them, so why would they desire it?
An anxious atmosphere pervaded the air.
I'm here to assist you, and I'm grateful to God for this gift.
A natural area has been cordoned off.
The headbands must be reconnected.
Probe the misanthrope and share the etch news.
The sand on the road will cease if they reach their home.
If I yield barefoot, my final inference is consciousness.
Written: July 03, 2021
1st place contest win
A Brian Strand July 4 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Brian Strand
Again these men comes to mind,
Paid to say yes and nay,
Lame duck,
Canker, ***** rapscallion minds
Incorrigible,
Political impostors detached from the humdrum of street cries
Maggots in honor
Damp squib temples of legislators
Dishonorable honorable,
Rotund circles of rascals
Fellows fit for the gallows
Clamping on huge figures,
While masses groan in penury and misery
These men,
Myopic spendthrift
Guilty of our nation’s scraggy state
Yet so confused to order the path of the clueless dummy
Who imposed tax on all, by military orders
Ignoring the pleas, and rightful protesters
Turned tyrannical with marching murderer on Lagos Street
Their gains is from the pain of myriads of unemployed
The beggars,
The homeless,
Hungering and the dying,
Yet, these,
Profligate band of quipster
Queasy brains,
Feigning parliamentary proceedings,
Though,
Benighted of procedural skills,
Bootleg insane scoundrels
Go to now, you dunce,
Senators are no thief
Legislators are honorable men
Your reputation!
Mud eaten,
Ask the people, they know so well,
Your inscriptions are carved on the web
The insignia of corrupt men
You pride faded,
Honor, a high price you must pay to regain,
Not with money
You banter and wade it off,
Glory in these,
Your temporal pride,
Your mansions outlive you,
Your coffins called cars
Your billions in Zurich,
Your fears to face the people
And the mockery of Truth
When your time is over,
Time shall mock your reigns of folly,
With sicknesses of nameless brand,
Retrospectively,
Sufferers will call to mind, the avoidable denials,
Their pains, their poverty in your pride against your master- THE PEOPLE,
Welcome to your misery
as the masses will watch you die
rascal of usurps seats of honor, don’t call them fools.
Good friends and also those that I don’t know,
I have a New Year’s dream I want to share.
It’s not one very typical although
it’s something about which we all should care.
I want the world to wake up to the truth
about the health care systems many use.
You see, I have become somewhat a slueth
discovering new things that are a ruse.
We’re living in the best and worst of times.
Health systems with which many of us live
are flawed; the toll for death by doctors climbs
for errors made and bad advice they give.
Big Pharma’s sheep, they write prescriptions for
bad drugs that bring more sicknesses than we
could ever have imagined years before.
I know this truth because they got to ME.
Big Pharma buries worthy remedies
or paints them in bad light. Go read online
the lies they tell! If you have a disease,
things FDA-approved are far from fine!
The FDA are puppets; see the proof
in foods they recommend for us to eat!
Don’t let yourself be victim to a spoof.
I dream of a new year free from deceit.
Jan. 2, 2020
50 Words for Poe: Vide Cor Meum
Look into my heart
see it’s sinew ripped
in the hole daisies grow
and death renews
forget-me-nots
unfurling crushed blue
from their
black soiled
deep dead
purple sleep
Vide Core Meum
slowly burns
the earth of me
forests roar
barefoot walks
through broken glass
then, nine inch nails,
the vanity fast retreats
where Raven wings
fan the flames
blue ribbons
veins complete
cor
caws
from it's bleeding
Poe-kept beak
this is where
the bushfire starts
Vide Core Meum
the Monster
Lillith is awake
Singing to her
Morning Star
The story not yet complete
(LadyLabyrinth/2019)
https://youtu.be/SP9IrCCMUUw
Vide Cor Meum/Zimmer
“Every tree in the forest has a story to tell. Some of them were burnt but they endured the fire and got revived; some of them were cut, their barks injured, some people pick up their leaves to make medicines for their sicknesses, birds used their leaves to make their nests, etc."
https://youtu.be/pev0dINRaok
The Great Below/Reznor
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Morning_Star