Long Supreme Poems
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April 20 Heart for God Bible Meditations Based on 1Kings 21-22
Key Verse – 1Kings 22:14 And Micaiah said, As the LORD liveth, what the LORD saith unto me, that will I speak.
HEART THAT SPEAKS WHAT THE LORD SAYS UNTO US
Our heart speaks what the Lord says unto us with all our soul
Along His sovereignty’s pole
Upon His supreme authority’s role…
Thus, we are settled toward His heavenly goal.
Our heart speaks what the Lord says unto us with all our trust’s part
Along His compassion right from the start
Upon His loving kindness that does not depart…
Thus, we are protected from hatred-bitterness’ dart.
Our heart speaks what the Lord says unto us to tell with all our spirit
Along His salvation far from hell’s destruction-pit
Upon His eternal life’s record-writ declaring us as divinely fit…
Thus, we are assured by His truth’s wit against everlasting split.
Our heart speaks what the Lord says unto us with all our mind
Along His Word where our well-being is designed
Upon His immutability securing our commitment-bind…
Thus, we are guarded against doubts and folly causing us to be fatally blind.
Our heart speaks what the Lord says unto us with all our conviction
Along His standard for our decision’s direction
Upon His precepts’ instruction…
Thus, we are guided in our service-function.
Our heart speaks what the Lord says unto us with all our faith-productiveness
Along His power of miracles’ blessedness
Upon His ways full of impossibilities’ worthiness…
Thus, we are geared for stewardship-effectiveness.
Our heart speaks what the Lord says unto us with all our gratitude
Along His supplies of provisions’ latitude
Upon His generosity of heavenly altitude…
Thus, we are propelled for reaching-out and sharing fortitude.
April 20, 2026
A conscious ruling fact
truth is the first casualty
within those claiming to be caring
in supplying compassionate healthcare
introducing a regulated and safe system
Where it is medically necessary to protect
the mental and physical health of the woman
one massive lie has been exposed on many fronts politically incorrect
If the Eighth Amendment is removed from the Constitution
it is crucial that we fully understand that these proposals are hidden
those safeguarding the children of Ireland's rights
which is as men and women we sign away our freedom freely
giving supreme power to Europe removing democracy
like lambs to the slaughter disguised as abortion
allowing foreign powers complete control over our country
behind the curtains of their deal
which in the first phase began with a vote yes for Europe
It failed at the first attempt so it was honey combed
they repushed this issue dressed as a peace deal
then began taking over our waters and fishing grounds
as the people we will need to awaken sooner rather than later
from whatever state they are in signing away our heirs
everything is not dressed as is
when you read between the lines
Listen my dove, to the lulling music
of Gounod’s Ave Maria.
Hear the soft brushing of the bow
against the perfectly tuned violin strings,
vibrating tenderly and lovingly.
So hearken, my little dove
but don’t dare to dream.
For dreams are all illusions
Never meant to be.
Avoid futility, for dreams
are part of our innermost desires
that is, alas, beyond our means.
In this ugly sick world of ours,
real love should reign supreme,
with such a weapon only
we can conquer the arrows
that outrageous fortune throws at us.
Be strong, look forward to life,
even if it is somehow short.
And though it may seem rather slow.
There is always a silver-lined cloud
that glitters after a timely shower.
Aim for it until the day
when you develop wonderful wings
to fly to heavenly everlasting dreams,
Where you’ll hear Gounod’s music again.
To the most Heavenly of YOUR Angels, “LENORE ELLEN”
C / O my Higher Power, the Supreme Almighty Being; “GOD”
North-East-South-West : Present-Past-Future : Up-Down : Left-Right
1 FOREVER-ETERNITY LANE , HEAVEN
11111nth
MY DEAREST, BELOVED LENORE : “Nubbies” : I miss YOU so much.
I hear YOUR Sultry voice, see YOUR Angelic face, feel YOUR Delicate touch.
I smell YOUR Womanly Fragrance : Caress and brush YOUR long Auburn hair.
I see YOUR sexy wiggle as YOU go walking by, in YOUR Silky naked skin so fair
I see YOUR smiling Rosa lips : Hypnotized by YOUR beckoning Green Eyes.
My Heartbeats’ every second, is Dedicated to YOU : You dry the Tears of “CRIES”
I know I should have written sooner,but the language of “GLORY “ I do not Know
I was afraid that the earthly words for Happiness and LOVE : to GOD I could not
Show
Many years I’ve asked myself What did our Heavenly Father say
about “WOODSTOCK”
YOUR Greeneyed Soul is with HIM: When I get to “PEARLY GATE” I do not see a
lock
Thank YOU GOD: what a Hell it would be, I could never see My Heartbeat, My
LOVE
LENORE== Never again hear HER POETRY, never again know HER sweet LOVE
I shall write again :(SOON : to YOU in Heaven) to me forever long, August 25 at
noon
OUR ANNIVERSARY
With every Heartbeat, Every Breath of Life, waiting to be with YOU again
"Nubbies" LOVE FOREVER and ETERNITY YOUR Husband
Harry D.Johnson
In LOVING MEMORY of LENORE ELLEN ADAMS JOHNSON
November 4 , 1951--- August 25 , 1971
Dedicated to My Mentor: CAROL BROWN
Dedicated to My POETIC LOVE: Jill Martin
What if science ended,
Imagination took flight.
Exploration without bounds,
Mysteries of day and night.
What if the boundaries of thought,
Were not restricted by reason.
A world where all is possible,
Unfettered by the season.
Would the poets take charge,
And guide us through the veil.
With words as their weapons,
Their visions they would unveil.
No more perpetual motion,
No more laws of thermodynamics.
Only boundless imagination,
As far as the eye can see.
The scientists would be left behind,
As poets took the lead.
Their creativity unbounded,
Their thoughts were all we need.
From the smallest atom,
To the furthest star we know.
The poets would explore them all,
With unbounded spirit and flow.
Science would no longer rule,
But its legacy would live on.
In the words of the poets,
A new age would dawn.
A world of endless possibilities,
A place where dreams come true.
Where the impossible becomes real,
And the unreal becomes true.
No more equations or logic,
Only emotions and heart.
The poets would lead us forward,
And science would play its part.
For science is the foundation,
On which imagination builds.
And the poets are the architects,
Who create with their skills.
Let us embrace this new world,
Where science and poetry unite.
Where imagination reigns supreme,
And our dreams take flight.
©THE ELO TRACK POETRY
®Otieno Elvis Gikoi
Drop dead gorgeous dark eyed bus boy chased
Peer assured status, focus of my fascination
High fiving idol guffawed and elbowed adjacent
Mates in droves, admirers in rows, dreamy Damon
Enriched to glimpse soap opera face as I boarded
From boys' school nearby, the greener gender pasture
Glance at my rolled up skirt spoke to thoughts sordid
His fleeting grin sent collapsing knees, mates' laughter
In typical teenage fashion for the times, mid nineties
Before social media blinked million comment designation
Our exchange over months limited to several niceties
Emptying bus afternoon he asked me out, supreme elation
Profile examined in mirror the evening of our due movie
Re primped the pair of socks boosting breasts non existant
Had my (only) half decent outfit chosen for past two weeks
Prospect of dating Damon held no heart slowing assistance
Uneventful night pursued, spun by overwhelming innocence
Being too naive to encourage moves, nerves running riot
Our chaeffered lifts to cinemas knew no lip warming kiss
Closely guarded phone each evening, obstinately quiet
A month later, bus reverberated his revised standards
Update explained to his mates, his tastes were narrowing
One percent of girls bore requirements Damon demanded
Variety other than curvaceous blonde, saw attention souring
Perfunctory level of awareness, lack of inner dignity
Allowed me to continue, lust bound, blindly desiring
During next year, Damon must have woken to scarcity
Blonde eligible youngsters for his affection aspiring
Mirror had become a somewhat closer companion
Make up added maturity, curves came, and confidence
Outside brick walled front of school, squinted in sun
Damon boldly suggested our courting should recommence
Sideways glance with my fiend, Suzie, enclosed chapters
Desperately I pleaded with my fifteen year old foolishness
To keep a straight face as I turned him down, lustre lacking
"I don't know, " faux deep thought, " Chance is one percent"!
2nd August 2020
Dusty Old Memories Poem Contest
Sponsor: Constance La France
Dear Mommy,
Why am I so short and pudgy ugly
But never mind my crying mommy
Thank you for giving me the curse of birth
And the worst hairdo and breath on Earth
For buying me kitty cats to torture
For procuring security guards to murder
For fire crackers to stuff up their you know where
To light them up when it crosses my scary brain
Thank you for cheeses to make me fat
For donuts to be stolen by my staff and soldiers
That I have to execute the very next day
For thinking they could get away or take my property
Forgetting I am the supreme leader of the human race
Thank you mommy for making me god of North Korea
Now I can kill cats and people quicker with nuclear devices
Murder more security personnel and donuts thieves as well
Not just party members but family too
Happy Mother's Day mommy
I'm not through with the USA or you
How I wish you were a man
So we could be lovers as son and mommy man
My only mommy love
Where is my hamster
With Love on Mother's Day,
There is no other,
Kim Jong Un
Your god, your sonny boy, your lover too
Entered on 5/9/2017 - sponsored by: Brian Strand
Contest Name: SPRING STANDARD CONTEST
"SUPREME MOST GOD IS THE SUPREME KING OF ALL"
HE blessed me a tiny kingdom
with a tiny soul in my democratic body
My Soul's the king of that
limbs are the people having different status
bear their own individual level of powers
Consciousness of the king
rules the bodily nation through the mind
deemed as prime minister
Where I am? Is it not my citizenship?
I must overcome the democracy of my own kingdom
to win myself first absolutely
ALMIGHTY GOD IS EVERY WHERE......
which way should the tumbler fall
and what is it we need to discern
since we are but a humble receptor
enacting on stage role as directed
to the vast void we posed a question
is not free will dominion of the soul
whereas the ego is driven by instinct
presence recognising we are in stupor
our entreaty was absorbed existence
processed by omniscient intelligence
what was posed was a divine paradox
needing the nonexistent ego to awake
grace however is free from limitations
so instantly our form was transformed
God Himself held steady all energies
radiating the threefold flame of Christ
transcending opposites, as living light
toroidal heart radiated potent power
baptised in the stream of Holy Spirit
our form reflected God’s grace supreme
Your severe terrorists threats ring out like bombs like I’m bin laden when actually you used your corrupt badge to try and extort my American poetry for my killers thee Gargano crime family obsession with my livelihood because they blew up my skull with a car bomb because Peter adored my American poetry terrorist threats because my African American grandfather was hired to protect the cardinals future pope’s catholics hiding from Hitler at Saint Sebastian church your bullying shoot to kill U66 shoot to kill represents a shoot to kill on my life to be killed because I refuse to allow gargano to extort my American poetry U66 shoot to kill civil rights activist leaders and their children no I will never ever forgive American domestic terrorist you are fake news fraud bullies terrorizing me for not allowing an imposter to extort my American poetry kill me now I’m American I am American back off Gargano crime family of corruption you are dangerous violent scum shoot me for my own poetry well I’m Medger Evers go ahead shoot I’m Mr Little shoot I’m Martin Luther King shoot me many have died for less and I have been suicidal not sure if I could go to heaven but I challenge you to shoot me Ciro Gargano Peter Gargano and your entire clan shoot me over my American poetry invest my traumatic brain injury claim go ahead shoot to kill me 1966 shoot all civil rights advocates and their families what a perfect death good idea I’m in I’m unafraid shoot to kill me you missed 8-14-2003 Rasta Andrew died coming to end my life over my American poetry so now you’re back shoot I’m here do it
God bless America
Supreme Court Justice
Civil rights advocates
Organized Crime law