Long Spilt Poems
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March 7 Scripture Meditations Based on 2Samuel 13-15
Key Verse – 2Samuel 14:14 For we must needs die, and are as water spilt on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again; neither doth God respect any person: yet doth he devise means, that his banished be not expelled from him.
MY GOD, THANK YOU FOR DEVISING FOR ME DIVINE MEANS
Thank You for devising for me divine means of moving forward
To overcome vexation of cravings for worldly award
In my pursuit to gain eternal and heavenly reward
So as not to neglect my work as Your steward.
Thank You for devising for me divine means of coping well
To combat distress of frustration spell
In my determination to win souls from hell
So as not to fail in the task that Your Gospel I must tell.
Thank You for devising for me divine means of doing right
To vanquish unholiness by Your strength in every spiritual fight
In my desire to please You with faith’s delight
So as not to forget that I should excel thru Your might.
Thank You for devising for me divine means of abiding in Your design
To conquer temptations, while clinging to Your Word I won’t resign
In my vow to fulfill what to me You did assign
So as not to forsake Your will along Your perfect sign.
Thank You for devising for me divine means of achieving meaningfully
To labour toward genuine accomplishments surely
In my effort to triumph according to Your Scriptures joyously
So as not to miss my grateful praise-expressions for You constantly.
Thank You for devising for me divine means of staying faithful
To claim Your blessings by Your grace so bountiful
In my willingness to submit to Your ways, both truthful and merciful
So as not to quit serving as Your steward whom You want to be fruitful.
March 7, 2022
The lying sewer rats have revealed themselves once again
a tale has surfaced without credit but begs to be king
this plague and disease has taken away innocent life
We all can see the scorpion in words published in a sting
the odour leaves an invisible stench deeply within souls rooted
Our nation has what it deserves
corrupted evil swine wallowing in self pity
crying over spilt milk bad eggs
Poor in spirit drunken by their lack of knowledge
wisdom is condemned as false doctrine to address logic
Where creeps the shadows over the truth
sandwiched hiding behind a mask
the joker laughs at democracies fools
This world is falling into the pits of hell
with rotten apples at the helm they form a circle
dividing people to core beliefs
Brainwashed individuals follow their leaders backward principles
God be with anyone who can think for themselves
because the trendy have lost all faith and love
they judge everyone by their own standards
afraid of the cross they bear malice against goodwill
Sin we all can see how you mutilate everything Holy
take one look into the heart of this problem unfolding
hide your face in shame as the day will come when you kneel
The Poetry Contest
I'll tell you a tale, I'm sure you'll agree
It'll interest those who write poetry
A poets contest
To find one who's best
To go down in historic anthology.
For the contest a massive hall was found
Poets arrived in droves from miles around
Some flew in by plane
By boat others came
With great expectations of being crowned.
The first prize was a case of finest wine
Poets revised their work so they'd sound fine
Some went weak and freaked
Others loudly shrieked
All coveting the prize - juice of the vine.
First up was a Scot with the name of McNee
He'd supped too much beer 'cos it was cost free
Then his beer he spilt
Wind blew off his kilt
Thus his ‘endowment' the whole world could see.
Next came Pam, like a glam model she dressed
She breathed deeply and out popped her huge breast
With thunderous roar
Guys yelled out for more
With an eyewink she said 'I am the best'.
28th December 2020
Defined By Idioms
Naked truth, bent nails
dead men tell no tales
bad Apple, broken mirrors
burnt out light bulbs, crocodile tears
spilt milk, goose chase
two cents worth, rat race
rotten egg, bad to the bone
eagle eye, no place like home.
bat from hell,
pulled punch
big cheese,
no free lunch
can of worms, bleeding heart
knock on wood,
till death do us part
bite the bullet, checkered past
good as gold,
last laugh
burning bridges,
ball of wax
hold your horses start from scratch
wooden nickels ace up your sleeve
hair of the dog
all Greek to me
axe to grind
behind the eight ball
bigger they are
the harder they fall
jack of all trades cat's got your tongue
fair weathered friend
like father like son
small world
on thin ice
speak of the Devil roll of the dice
blood's thicker than water
lie like a rug
dime a dozen
when push comes to shove
dog eared pages
eye for an eye
bury the hatchet how time flies clean as a whistle C
chew the fat
crime doesn't pay. cover my ass
throw me under the bus gentle as a lamb
cold shoulder
hit the fan
buyer beware
woman's work never done
never say never
takes one to know one
come Hell or high water
pissing in the wind
pretty as a picture through thick and thin
beat a dead horse pass the buck
whole nine yards down on my luck
life’s a
don't rock boat
needless to say
go for broke
My life is the sum of trite cliches
Jaded expressions
so worthless so worn
I couldn't give it away
I searched high and low
On the mountain peaks
In the green meadow
In every verdant and serene place
Of my mind, I searched
Hoping to find them
I dipped in the streams
Of my ever flowing emotions
I spent time
In the sheltered cavern of my soul
I lay in the sun drenched valley
Gazing up at the wispy clouds
Of my thoughts
Hoping…
Hoping to find them
I searched high and low
In the chambers of my heart
Going through each one
The warm gushing life giving flow
The rhythm of my dreams
Pounding in my ears
Breathing in the oxygen of love
Seeing it mix
The vital essence of my life
Lapping at my feet
Hoping ….
Hoping to find them
I searched high and low
In my own little universe to find them
They were not
So I turned my eyes to the outer universe
I lay down on the soft grass at night
Looked up at the inverted tea light stars
Spread on the rich black table cloth of the heavens
On which powerful hands had spilt
The white stream of the Milky Way
My finite thoughts lead beyond
Beyond….
The mysteries of here and now
Traveling to find
The essence of love
Scrawled in the stars
The meaning of YOU
I searched and searched
There were not to be found
I came back
There you were
Standing before me
Resplendid
Divine
Beautiful beyond description
Then…..then I looked into your eyes
My outer universe
My inner universe combined
There in the light of your eyes
I found them
I found them
In the sparkling of a tear
That held onto your lash
As you drew me near
Whispering into my hair
That you love me
I found them
The words
The illusive words that show
What you mean to me….
But they fluttered away
In an instant
In the warmth of your embrace
Before I had a chance to utter them
And so
I closed my lips over yours
And I let my tongue speak
Eileen Manassian Ghali
It was a Tuesday night and dull boredom had set in
‘ thought I heard my ol’ car say: “Take us for a spin!
Go pickup Bobby Mac and maybe Cindy too,
‘Cause it’s Tuesday night … and there’s nothin’ else to do”.
Bobby Mac rode “shotgun” with Cindy in between
While I gripped that steerin’ wheel, and drove through Abilene
We stopped ’n got some soft drinks an’ an order of French fries
Then off we sped again - crusin’ ‘neath those Texas skies
Cindy’s eyes were sparklin’ when Bobby told a joke
Once I had to stop the car, ( ‘cause I had spilt my Coke!)
Then Bobby Mac, he asked me: “Just what can this car do …
Can it reach a hundred … or maybe go on through?”
I turned around and cruised on down to Ol’ Comanche Road.
I was rev’in’ up my engine, while the dual exhausts bellowed
I popped the clutch - tires protested with their clouds of smoke
Horsepower erupted through every bore and stroke
The needle on the dashboard gauge was approaching one-oh-oh
And then I felt that right front tire when it decided to “let go”
It happened in a heartbeat, but slow motions’ what I see
For now I’ll relive that awful night for all eternity.
And Cindy has no sparkle left within her big brown eyes
And Bobby Mac’s no jokes to tell ‘neath those Texas skies
While I sit here on this cloud with Bob and Cindy Lou
… Now and forever more … they’ll be Nothin’ Else to Do.
Don’t speed.
Intended as a soliloquy
Could this man have been a killer?
In dark pursuit of ones demise.
Steadfast vengeance as my pillar
Consumed resolve, no compromise.
No greater gift, there is but life
Yet blood stained hands I seek to claim.
A placid lamb now armed with knife
Purloined harmony has enflamed.
Now here I tread upon the hunt
Within a stones throw of my prey
Eye for an eye he must confront
I close my own for strength this day.
Lost memories do flood my mind
Those better times before the grey.
Family joy long since declined
Emotions spilt in disarray.
He’s seen me now I’ve broken stealth
Instead of fear I see his mirth.
I can’t claim back what was my wealth
Yet I return him to the earth.
What creature have I just become?
Bound to bitterly seek revenge.
I sought rapture, instead I’m numb
My daughters death I have avenged.
1st August 2016
*fictional however I sought a
motive that would induce a
parent to kill.
i speak to inanamic object
get up and walk now
go tom to the block house
but watch out
your a ninja be smart now
wait it, aint it painted
he said yes it's kinda crazy
i used to just sit there all day and
daydream
wishing about becoming everything i seen
i can't wait to check and set the scene
im thinking damndest thing i ever seen
An icechest speaking its enticing
he said im use carrying things by the cases
and i never leaked a day in my life
and i only spilt once since they built me
im serious he stole beer from me im furious
well tom report to me as soon as you handle business
u seem serious son, you've peeked my interest
he's like well sit here for a second be back in minute
im so high off the thought of just walking
here i go floating gentle as brreeze as gradual as a slope
whoa hold up i know her i recognixze that ass man
Thats Jazimine she used to sit on me every saturday
well hell all of a sudden im feeling lucky
but he trust me and i got a job to do
then i hear a voice saying now u got 2
what ever the order just take a pick
he said when i was created
I heard a voice saying always make a piece ass wait on me
By night I write in silence,
like the quiet checkered board in the corner of my room
violently erupting my dimensional thoughts.
It haunts the hours I am awake,
through fake goggles of glory, you think you see me
creating fictitious measures of expectancy.
I pass you on the dirty streets,
behind the wheel of your material needs
you steal a glance,
and by chance you look the other way.
A loose thread curls beneath your sleeve
and you heave at the idea of imperfection,
like a cold stone dropped in a pond
a bond of nothing but a bottle of booze,
rings of empty energy ooze from you.
Reality’s clamor of modern life
echo through the corners of town,
nature’s volume turned down.
Like a clown you laugh in your big fancy shoes.
History has been painted on these pavements,
spilt out and absorbed by the years gone by.
Now shriveled up and dry you shy away,
from a connection that’s begging you to stay.
But you don’t look into my eyes
and you don’t see…
the marvels that journey through me.
A closed book hooked on gas and money,
green envy of collectibles
you clown, you think it's funny.
Why not walk without your shoes?
Open your eyes and look what is around you.
Feel the cracked ground beneath your feet
and look at the people in the street.
Form:
(This is an old poem of mine reposted with some modifcations )
I hammered some words
Out from the quarry of my brain
They fell around in shards;
Some like boulders,
Some like rocks and rubble
I picked them up one by one.
Block on block, I piled them up
Thinking I could build a ‘pleasure dome’
But,
When it was time for the workman
To marvel over the beauty and wonder
Of his dream creation
His masonry tumbled down
Like sand castles built
By little hands on sea strands
Or dunes of quicksand sliding down
I have lost count of the times,
This has happened before.
Now that I stay resigned,
Amid a heap of debris
Is there any use feeling remorse?
Like Nero fiddling on his harp
When Rome was burning
I sit on this pile of wreck
Piping my thoughts away.
In the cusp between victory and defeat
I have charted my future action plan
Decided not to cry over spilt milk
But to start over and continue my work
Till I can erect a ‘pleasure dome’ of words
As our famed poet Coleridge did!
Nov. 25. 2022
Just Before Release Poetry Contest
Sponsor- Unseeking Seeker