Long Storehouses Poems
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No matter how far we travel into the universe
No matter how many worlds we conquer
Or marvelous civilizations we encounter
No matter how many creatures we dissect
How far into the past we probe
No matter how many words we write, or read
There is always one step further; one more word to pen
One more iota of information to uncover.
Our storehouses of knowledge
Do not help us survive
Though we hope they will;
For we must believe we will continue.
It all depends upon
One more grain of knowledge
A puzzle with the answer we all desire
Then will we be forever.
Not as a race entire,
Not through works of art
Not from words of wisdom,
Conquest or slaughter,
But the egoistic Self,
The person, the arrogant mind;
What matters if there is or is not a god?
The query is merely: Will I be forever.
That there is life beyond life
Is the dream, the hope,
Of blind misbegotten certainty.
Are we not like a drop of water
That quenched a thirst for knowledge
Then evaporated, but still exists?
Please do not suppose "We are not."
When no more doubt remains
Then shall humanity crumple
And fade from the universe
No longer possessed
Of the undivine quest
No longer needing to persist in this land
When another, we insist, so surely waits.
For now, the starships search outer realms
The pen transcribes the mind
While seldom do we stop to reflect how
If ever the destination is at hand
We will have lost all purpose.
c1973
An earnest poem from my youth, tossed in a file box and stored away lo these many decades.
You are my beacon in the darkness
the bulwark and seawall which protect my shore
the lamp which pierces the stormy waters
that surround me
I navigate the deep with the course you set for me
your spirit moves the directions and maps
the destinations
Our cargo is precious and obtained
from many nations whose purchase was
a kings priceless ransom .
You calm the tempests with your orders
our counselor and captain of our salvation
you have lifted us from deep waters
rescued us from from the windstorms and squalls
guided us to warm beaches and the coastlines
filled with pleasant fruit
sheltered us from the ravages of dark natures
covered us richly from all your storehouses.
You have smoothed the surface of the great seas
for a passage through them
I exalt in your wisdom and radiance
Your presence and advice is always true
You take measure and correct our crossings
Your observations conduct the setting of our sails
and conveyed our bearing and carriages .
My soul rejoices in all your orders
for they are the buttress and stronghold
for all that you have delivered to us .
You are resplendent in all your ways
unsurpassed in your excellence
and worthy to receive the honors
and devotions of all those loving you .
You are the air that fills our sails
the brightest star in our nights
the Son which illuminates our days .
I magnify your name oh Lord
above all those known to men .
amen come Captain of Salvation
Your Word is fathomless
an anchor to our souls
Is 9:6
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and
the government will be on his shoulders. And he will
be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God,
Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.
Acts 4:12
Salvation is found in no one else, for there is
no other name under heaven given to
mankind by which we must be saved.”
Heb 1:3
The Son is the radiance of God’s glory and the exact
representation of his being, sustaining all things
by his powerful word. After he had provided purification
for sins, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty in heaven.
COPYRIGHT © 2015
PoetryofProvidence
C Michael Miller?
Wearing her zippered jumpsuit of lime
My queen loves to survey the valley's field.
She dreams of finding a perfect place and time
She can make her dream city something real.
Megiddo was an ancient and famous city
Where starting at Solomon's gate then entering in,
Delight, pleasance and joy showed no pity,
And t'was no comfort not to be found within.
This proud city of great power and zeal--
The glory of some rare ancient engineer--
Has seen dust fly from many a chariot wheel,
When victorious kings came to holiday here.
Perhaps ancient Israel's most splendid city,
It soon captured every kingdoms' eye.
A diadem of the Jezreel Valley so pretty,
It invoked the kiss of the Assyrian sky.
Surrounded by its high double-thick stone walls,
Megiddo’s palaces did lavishly and amply abide,
Containing their ornamentally furnished halls,
With towers, storehouses, and courtyards alongside.
And then there are temples—believed to be three,
With vestibules for believers to enter in.
Then of course the altar for only the holy to see,
Where doctrines are given a positive spin.
Where’er perfect foundation might lay,
My queen shall find a delightful field.
And there to be in full domain and array,
The promise of Eden most
empyreal.
The necter of Gods garden
is the essence of our love
come let us inhale deeply
of her perfume
let us cultivate together
the colors
of its bed
In unity plant its seedlings
and tend her germinations
let us extract the fragrances
and robe our lives
in the sweetness of her care
kissed with her fruits
and her bouquet
how comely are her furrows
whose plantings are of love
a balm and ointment to sooth
her place of rest for all the
weary
ambrosia is her drink
and incense is her prayer
she supplies our chalices with joy
as does a spring meadow
gather her blossoms
and decorate your halls
and banquet together
in the produce of her fields
for she brings forth richly
from the storehouses of her wealth
Come pluck her fruit
and drink of her presses
her cistern flows saps of maples
and within her the tastes are sweet
source Song of Solomon
COPYRIGHT © 2011
You humans walk about with ease
With no care nor mere concern
Where every step could maim or kill
And pilage upon return
Whether consciously or unaware
Your ignorance is noted
Oblivious to basic laws of motion
Where walking equates to floating
You boast of sciences and their order
Superior to all that lives then!
Yet upon much closers inspection
You thieve progress from our nests
What you do not know is undiscovered
As If it was always concealed in view
But your vanity and arrogance
Made what was plain seem undiscovered
Education is the key THEY SAID
And so observe wat more to learn
We have no formal education
Yet it is our knowledge that you yearn
Our cities require no government
Nor our storehouses a cooler
Our population knows no census
Yet all sleep with full-cropped bellies
Our currency of order requires neither rates nor taxes
Prepared for every season our larder is stocked by and far
How sexist can we be when our monarch is always a Queen?
Is not discrimination amongst ourselves what stunts unity and progression!
Tiniest of all beings yet the most enthusiastic workers
About from the ascension of Our Lady till the chill that summoms phantism
Our industriousness is favoured such as the work ethic we possess
Watch, carefully observe, learn from us and you will prosper
Imagine what we could do if we were you with all this knowledge
We'd bring order to the world and calm to all chaos
Maybe now you know to lose the botox that stiffens up your necks
Look down more timeously and remember we too are beings
Bethlehem, a star attraction, out of thee,
Among the chilliads, the small, the great.
A shining example - how grateful are we?
How deep and wide, one stellar star of fate.
In storehouses: blessings, rain, mannah and snow.
Likewise, one brilliant star from the creation of time,
Proudly displayed, in Paradise, before its eminent solo.
Set in its ordained place, for this moment, in its prime.
Bethlehem, a star attraction, out of thee,
Among the chilliads, the small, the great.
In the greatness of destiny, noticed by shepherds
And magi, disparaged by self-immortalised pharoah.
The precious power of its rays - no idle words
Can convey. Singular sign of salvation in its marrow.
A shining example - how grateful are we?
How deep and wide, one stellar star of fate.
Always crowds are pressing in, down below,
But the lone star has plenty of open space.
A beacon of hope, a compass arrow, its glow
Proudly presents a nativity - invitation for grace.
Bethlehem, a star attraction, out of thee,
Among the chilliads, the small, the great.
A shining example - how grateful are we?
How deep and wide, one stellar star of fate.
11/9/2022
The Only Star For Me
Sponsor: Mystic Rose Rose
I see the evergreen live oaks in my backyard as old wise souls
Cosmic storehouses of wisdom, integrity and strength from the source
They stand tall soaring up high with their expansive curved brushwood
Spreading it in various directions to meet up with nearby oaks in the neighborhood
Beautiful shaded canopies they form bringing their shiny green foliage closer together
Make numerous cool, unruffled spots in the backyard to hang-out in burning summer weather
I respect their grandfatherly presence whenever I see them,
Admire their might and ability to provide generously to various animal domains
No matter how far we travel into the universe
No matter how many worlds we conquer
Or marvelous civilizations we meet
No matter how many strange creatures we study or dissect
No matter how far into the past we probe
No matter how many words we write, or read
There is always one step further; one more word to pen
One more iota of information to uncover.
Our great storehouses of knowledge do not help us survive
Though we hope it will; we must believe we will survive
Upon that one more grain of knowledge we all desire to know
That which is just knowing: will we be forever alive.
Not as a race, not through works of art
Not from words of wisdom
But the egoistic Self, the person, the lonesome mind
What matters if there is or is not a god?
The question is merely: Will I be forever.
That there is life beyond life
Is the dream, the hope, the blind misbegotten certainty
Are we not like a drop of water
That quenched a thirst for knowledge
Then evaporated, but still exists?
When no more doubt remains
Then shall humanity crumple and fade from the universe
No longer possessed
Of divine quest
No longer needing to survive in this land
When another so surely waits.
For now, the starships search the outer realms
The pen transcribes the mind
While seldom do we stop to reflect
That if the destination were ever in hand
We will have lost all purpose.
circa 1973
why Is It that so few have so much
and so many have so little?
where is the equality?
where is the justice?
why is there world hunger?
when there is food aplenty
locked up in storehouses and silos?
holding out for the highest bidder,
while rats and mice are getting fatter
feasting on the surplus
why is there homelessness?
when there are apartments
and homes sitting vacant
Is It not better to get some rent
than to get no rent?
holding out for the highest bidders
a woman placed her last two coins
into the basket as an offering, a tithe
a rich man put twenty coins into the basket.
Jesus said "she has given her all"
while the rich man only gave a token
her faith and trust in God
will get into the Kingdom of Heaven
but the rich man will not enter
for the Kingdom of Heaven
Is not holding out for the highest bidder
The battle between body and spirit
Housed as I am,
in this earthenware vessel
I witness,
the raging between body and spirit.
My mood- sullen and morose,
a telling sign-
a flashing indicator-
pointing to a weakness in my will,
a slow debilitating decline in my convictions-
indicating a buttressing of my resolve-
is urgently needed.
This paroxysm has been a body blow,
and my spirit is reeling.
I am cloistered, incarcerated now these three years,
having served a portion of my sentence.
What is my crime?
These four walls,
such contemptible, wretched creatures-
mock me, taunt me, deride me
as weak and worthless;
but I know better!
I am shackled to the two evil twins-
misery and myalgia-
myrmidons- secret agents of the devil
serving at his pleasure.
Hell-bent they are on a wicked crusade
raping and pillaging the golden storehouses
of my treasured faith and hope.
Sacred vaults protect my integrity,
my zeal is still intact.
As I wrestle with my afflictions
I throw tantrums-like a feral beast
charging towards the drawn sword.
However, I succumb to the inevitable.
I sense the folly of the fight and submit,
although-unwillingly to this intransigent,
auto-immune disease.
How do you fight an enemy who is
entrenched in your marrow?
This enemy is coercing me on this death march
and it is unrelenting in it's insistence.
The gates of Sheol* beckon to me to enter,
I resist the clarion call, although the gravity
draws me ever closer to my sealed fate.
I see visions of paradise, here on earth,
where pain is no more,
and all suffering is a distant memory
until eternity erases it from my mind.
Unfortunately, for me,
looks like I'll be taking the subway,
instead of the train to paradise.
December 17,2018
For Misery contest Edward Ibeh
*Sheol Hebrew for the grave.
Not hell as a burning place of torment
as is commonly taught and believed.