Long Tear into Poems

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Quiet Waters

Streams of blue fluid 
Flows downward 
As fragile carcasses decay 
Without a peep of a sound

We’re in the brink of disaster… 

Who invited such fear and anguish?
Who could lead us to quiet waters?

We bleed…
Polluting the waters below us… 
Trickling down the mountain
To our filthy feet…

Cleansing the sin off of our skin
But, it’s tangled from deep within…

The eeriness breaks 
The hearts of a thousand strangers
They all fall away powerlessly… 
Into the chambers of death 

Danger is lurking in every corner…
Pursuing its evil plans
To cut down our hopes…
Growing like crops… 
Rising rapidly –  
It never stops

Dreams of misfortune still 
Rapes our minds,
Plaguing our happiness… 
Consuming the darkness…

We’re sprawling on the ground…
We’re crawling like infants…
Veering briskly like serpents…

Who will set our souls free 
From suppression?  

Who will preserve our hearts?
Don’t prey upon our 
Guiltless lives… 
We’re in complete agony… 
Does He consider 
Our prayers  
Of support and nourishment? 

We scream…
Breaking the repulsive solitude…

Encourage us to keep on 
Trekking toward Your light

Where’s Your path?

You rinse off all of the sorrow 
Giving us a ecstatic tomorrow 

The weeping ceases…
While the corpses 
Tear into 
Blood-spattered 
Pieces…  

The faith of a couple of people
Strengthens us…keeps us motivated…
Not captivated…
In misery…
We’re reaping our 
Ecstasy…   
Leading us to peace and fortune 
Keeping us accustomed
To Your purifying spirit…
Keeping us away from 
Calamity… 

We’re hungry… 
Our demise is close at hand…
Closing in on us abruptly 
Like an obscure cave…

Rescue us from affliction –  
Embracing downhearted clouds…

Those wretched clouds…

Brought us rain when we asked for bread…

Those merciless clouds…

Spewed out scorching fire when we asked for relief…

Remember our supplications… 
Appalling lightning’s daring to strike us  
Out of cruel vengeance 
Out of sheer amusement 

Don’t even attempt to weaken us
We’re blossoming in joy…
We’re under cover… 
You can’t manipulate us 
Like a subtle toy 

We’re praying for
Quiet waters

Offer the deceased 
A second chance

Don’t disown 
Our broken lives

We’re not alone…

We’re just waiting until
The quiet, glistening waters
Gratefully arrives…


Premium Member The Earth As It Is

These are the times
I sit and ponder at the beauty of it all,
amazed at the bounty of my blessings
Overburdened with foolish reminiscing
For the time has come for the present...

...life's never ending event

I admire the lovely wetness
of unexpected rain
Walnuts that look like human brains
Trees that sprout out of elk heads
to battle others for honor and for mates
I marvel at the convenience
of the kangaroo's curious pouch
The patience of eagles lying in wait
Chameleons (that rainbow reptilian)
shifting colors at a glance,
occasionally russet (at times van Gogh)
The industry of ants,
single file,
   row
      by row,
         by row,

(not one little rebel)

The diamond skin of a pineapple,
amber juices aburst with sweetness
(and even the librarians in their neatness)
...not one little thing is worthy of omitting

For this bird bath of a planet
is positively brimming
with secrets to behold

Like the fangs of fire foxes
that tear into flesh
(but the story doesn't end there,
lest we forget)

For the pricks of a porcupine
are there to remind you,
regardless of strength or size
In the dark every creature
has the same set
of glowing eyes

The sunniest of marigolds
that brings the promise of summer fun
Just as much as the paper I like to fold
Cranes perched on the windowsill

(longing to fly just like the real ones)

There is magic everywhere you go,
no need to reinvent or fantasize
about some hidden secret or treasure trove
I can see the Pacific in your eyes
The Milky Way in a nautilus shell
(you can see it if you're looking,
you can hear it if you're blind)

Just sit a spell and listen
to the eternal song
of the infinite mind
Or catch a glimpse of April fireflies

(the misfit stars that got left behind)

So keep your gold, Leprechauns
Mermaids of old with your siren songs
serenade some other hapless chap
to the edge of the sea (and never look back)
And Genie of the Lamp, keep the other two,
for here's my first and only wish:
I want the earth, and everything that's in it...

...just as it is



PS. Inspired by the poetry of Suzanne Delaney and Carol Mays in their wonderful book, Poems of Nature, Enchantment and Mystery.

Premium Member In the nights when the moon weaves its silver web over the gardens of my blossomed longing

In the nights when the moon weaves its silver web over the gardens of my blossomed longing,
I await you, beloved, like a rain of stars in a desert of burning solitude,
Come with the balm of your love, divine nectar for my soul, thirsty for affection,
To embrace my being in your arms, an unyielding fortress against the storms of life.
Let your hands sculpt the contours of my body, a divine chisel on the marble of senses,
To wander together on the paths of the sky, two wandering stars in the constellation of eternal love,
Savoring your kiss like living water springing from the mysterious depths of our passion,
While the flame of longing consumes every trace of doubt, leaving only the pure mystery of love.
Our steps make the fragile bridge between reality and dream tremble, banishing the shadows of loneliness,
Passion entwines our souls in a cosmic dance of fulfillment and ecstasy,
And our bodies become purple flames, warming the cold universe with the ardor of our feelings,
I, an autumn leaf carried by the wind of your love, you, the evergreen tree of my hopes.
I paint your name with falling stars on the vault of eternity, the constellation of our happiness,
Enchained in the silken threads of your love, my soul spreads its wings toward infinity,
Savoring the scent of immortality in every kiss, in every embrace, in every whisper,
Treading over past regrets like a carpet of petals, toward a future illuminated by your presence.
Even when the clouds of doubt try to darken the sky of our passion,
I light the torch of hope in my heart, an unfailing beacon in the tumultuous ocean of life,
For our love is stronger than any storm, more enduring than any rock,
An eternal hymn sung by the violins of our souls tuned to the perfect harmony of the universe.
In the tapestry of time, we weave together the tapestries of our dreams and memories,
Turning every tear into a shining pearl, every smile into a ray of sunshine,
And from the shards of the past, we build the mosaic of a future where our love shines eternal,
Two hearts beating as one, two souls merged in the living, immortal flame of true love.
© Dan Enache  Create an image from this poem.

Premium Member Hyena

Feral Exchange

I am well spotted and nasty and do not mind that description

Will gather my fortune whatever is your inappropriate depiction

Dig my teeth into your body and soul straight down to the bone

Leave my scent on your remains with a well-executed stepping stone


Once we hunted together and I took your lead and compassion

Now I chose to digest you in the most vicious contemptible fashion

Watch the smile in my fangs cutting deep into blood and intestine

Straight in the open with no secrets nor lies or honesty clandestine


A hyena must live up to her promise of laughing when stressed

Revenge and retribution is delivered with vengeance at best

Hurt is written on my posture and demeanour when I tear into carrion

I am the epitome of self-righteousness so please don’t call me vulgarian


When I stand upright above your decay you will fall on my sword

As a reward for finding me repulsive now but once had me adored

I’ll clean you because out a divorce is such an opportune affair

To thrive on your misfortune whereas I am cultured and debonair


You got me wrong folks I’m not dirty only clean up after the act

To call me foul or unsocial is totally wrong and dishonestly inexact

Know why I attack my once glorious protector it’s because I can

I got you cold out of balance and that has always been my master plan


‘Oh dear ex fellow hyena you might have forgotten one miniscule detail

In some sense only I’m quite similar to you and can rip out your entrails

But I won’t let’s be clear about virtuous living and ethical behaviour

By retorting with similar greed I would merely be your victim role saviour’


‘I am also a hyena in a way that most humans will never comprehend

Simply because they are your models of ignorance and I will remand

You in your own prison meanwhile I found myself another cuddly companion

Go sharpen your claws if you want but I’ll feast on love and kind understanding’



01st July 2019

Pick a Title Vol 6 Personification Contest

Sponsor: Edward Ibeh

Title chosen: Hyena

Divine Gladness

There I go as I listen to what some close friends have to say.
Listen to their unheeded noise.
Instead of living in the freedom of the Spirit they often reside in the flesh.
I so enjoy when they tear into my resolve of my divine gladness of what I have and where I am with Him.
I come to the Lord with a grateful heart and so blessed to draw breath.
I know no man is meant to be an island, but one must choose what words to accept from a friend's lips.  What wise words will help achieve the greatest good for all involved, total peace from the intended recipient.
Ultimatiums should never be given, do it my way or else.
I love walking with God, I like having people find where they need to be, to develop their own walk seperate from me, that like the waters of the oceans relationships must ebb and tide so that there is a certain wisdom gained.
Friends sometimes want what you have and therefore are never glad of their perceived ideas of what they think they need from you, or they want to become you.
The ugly green of jealousy often rears its ugly head.
Instead the people we call friends should reach happiness, fulfillment with God with a large pinch of self-awareness of where they have been and where they want to see themselves in the now and in the gift of the future.
Because people cannot give to others what they do not truly possess.
So a more beneficial relationship with others cannot be achieved until the whole being of the Holiest Blesser is met.
That is the only way we can hope to be more of a blessing to each other, with an equally larger measure of understanding and forgiveness of each other's honest short-comings as well as their strengths that do exist at least in our Father God's eyes.
I prefer being alone with God and His Holy silence and joy.
I will listen to Him as He makes me able.
I know that I am far from perfect as a human being but my insight, my gift, my aim is true.
God finds me worthy to be,
How about you?
How about you?


Admonishment

Oh Israel I called you forth to listen
there can only be one master to the house
I redeemed you all to belong as brothers
as your service to me you have espoused 
 
Why do you seek control over the others
by example my purchase set you free
my will I am able to make known
when you are punished know it will come from me
 
I will be the one who gives directions
to the one who is my servant call
my will I am able to make known
it is to me that he will stand or fall
 
You raise yourselves like lions in the forest
tear into my servants like your prey
shortly I will settle the accounts here
pray your coins I will not take away
 
By example I set myself as servant
it was you who I washed and fed
I set a table just like a house slave
upon it was my own wine and bread
 
You were purchased from the wicked
were set as freemen in my tent
everything you use is my possession
you will account for how it has been spent
 
If you are unable to submit to my direction
know this you can be easily replaced
I will not allow you to destroy my building
I can from stone make flesh and you erased
 
Every servant is dependent on his master
and a master example I have set
there is only one path to true glory
the obeisance of love you do forget
 
I will use anyone I choose to
their service to me I'll not forget
I will raise or lower those deserving
if you refuse a decision you'll regret
 
Accept my admonishments directions
the gentle voice I have sent to you
you have publicly shamed my reputation
It is my example you must learn to do
 
My father appointed me the master
as a son in his own house I serve
I have sent my messengers before me
My arrival will dispense what you deserve
 
 
 
when I get hauled out of bed for this
I have to wonder to whom our Lord
has to have listen , those to whom this
is addressed you know the scriptures
 
Amen , come Lord Jesus
 
 
COPYRIGHT © 2012 C. Michael Miller
via Duboff Law Group LLC
Form: Verse

Premium Member Heartisan

‘ex post facto’ it is facile to see the human reality of  matter

one does not need artificial intelligence to feel sorrow and joy

	a life not bravely examined is not worth living

	and therefore she dissected her innermost self

	took scalpel and reason but failed to exhume

	what matters most when cut through the chase

	inspected valves chambers and flow of emotion

‘be kind to yourself’ but at first the knife was rather too blunt

double edged as well and she needed tweezers and forceps

	‘where is the handle because I must get a firm grip

	wrap a bandage around my soul and tear into pain’

	a psychiatry bible rested uncomfortably aside an atlas

	four chambers no doubt be it water fire air and earth

	compassion kindness love and no doubt depression

formalin tested her nostrils with the corpse unsurprisingly dead

broken arrows at the core and faded names inscribed in dry blood

	the life support machine had groaned under pressure

	injection and years on the couch but nothing but stasis

	hemolytic infusions adrenaline cardio version exhaustion

	until she decided to explore what mattered the most

	breathing barely more than sufficient she nearly arrested

a heart transplant was not for faint hearted patient’s emotions

but when she got going there was no going back in her theatre

	mental surgery required passion courage and centre

	the eye of an eagle and the skill to let go and recover

	‘pioneering is quite fun’ she had to admit and proceeded

	discovered that she was more than a cultural artefact

	but living proof of suppression and uneasy surrender

what she learnt to love best in the end was her dark depression

because this nasty compassion opened her eyes and her heart


5th August 2020

A Walk In the Park

I was out walking in the park

When something grabbed me from the dark

I felt its fangs tear into my flesh

I could smell the blood, sickly fresh

 

It is quite strange, but at the time

I did not realize the blood was mine

This thing tore at me with razor claws

Had my throat within its jaws

 

As I was about to breathe my last

This thing was startled by a shotgun blast

I awoke in hospital the next day

I was attacked by a “savage dog” they say

 

Apparently, that night it had attacked before

Three people lay dead in the morgue next door

They shot at the beast and away it ran

They said  “I was a lucky man”

 

About one month later, around four weeks or so

I was recuperating under a full moon glow

Suddenly a blinding rage filled my head

My toes and fingers grew and spread

 

Then something forced me onto all fours

As my hands and feet turned into paws

I could feel my bones bend and crack

As hair sprouted down my arching back

 

Sharpened fangs, my nose grew in length

I could feel within me growing strength

Senses heightened, smell and sight

And I was off into the night

 

Now I hunt, I am on the prowl

I announce my presence with a piercing howl

I leap and pounce on my unsuspecting prey

They have no chance to run away

 

I rip and tear with a satisfied growl

I bite and gnaw, I disembowel

Relishing in the guts and gore

But, my hunger burns, I will catch more

 

They should not be out after dark

On a full moon, walking in the park

I’ll rip and tear, I’ll shred their flesh

Ah, that sweet, sweet blood, so sickly fresh.

 

©Gary Wayne Hill, 2019
© Gary Hill  Create an image from this poem.
Form: Rhyme

The Heart From Which Flows the Waterfall

There is a little sprinkling of love down deep,
  a wee twinkling (light) ---
  without which we couldn't exist;
  like light upon the sleeping cove,
  faint in the thick night,
  afar yet it (glows),
  the bloom from the rose has kissed the momentous 
  (moment)

Its (body) stem could only pretend to tear into life;
  its little vision once as a puddle for a pond,
  now the She-Earth has poured her life breath ---
  and wept into wild rivers seeking the edges of the world,
  the rain forests welcome her flow of lovely;
  rainbow waves, and bubbles to bounce
  where children play,
  whence the nestled nightingale sings his plea

All of life bound beyond the eye, tethered at last to feel,
  to see....
  what is in front of thee;
  the mountain moans, the mountain groans!
  the felt whispered winds all Earth within,
  the body weens into mind, emotion, things unseen...

What of worlds, and wolds of vast cosmos,
  a quasar billions of might of Earth's sun,
  yet a soul singular, 
  more mighty than thy many quasar flight?

The mother defys death to save her babe ---
  in it all the world is saved,
  one world enough, upon the galaxies bereaved;
  one flower to make a universe,
  and set it upon its course of so much more....

One from which flows the waterfall,
  the tumbling tender truth;
  from kind thought ---
  your life to have all anew,
  a fresh poured cure, to mold
  endure....
  what God would have of you;
  a mighty wave upon the ramparts,
  a new love upon the land,
  a bloom forthwith,
  sing ye, all Kings and Queens of Earth!



***Written in 2015***

Premium Member Steeling Into the Attic

steeling into the attic

how much is contained
in these boxes and bags of stuff?
all of life, now, then and before.
some able to warm the heart strongly 
as when newly minted.
cruelty, giving rise to the chill of fear, pain
a very few, sharp as this minute,
tear into the armour long since created
once again worn, 
like a poor beggars tatters.

making sense, finally
a piece or two will fit together  
a brief ah ha moment, then
death returns, a bit of spirit crumbles, 
once again bent beneath the 
onslaught of his rage.
I couldn’t walk the next day, 
he pulled me to school in the wagon.
some how the pieces got separated 
and hidden, in a bag of sadness. 

summers at Candlewick free of fear
no other boot would drop, for a while.
I unpack each precious memory 
as I would a fragile Christmas ornament
dangle its tantalizing glow
‘mazed at such magic,
always kept in my heart.
I enter sometimes slowly, 
to savour the relief of freedom
sometimes quickly, for the rush of joy.
running free-bird through 
 gently waving, uncut grass  
welcome, creaks the aged granny slammer,
the incense of cedar, Ingoldsby Bay and dusty roads
surround promises of love and calm, safe times.
 
age, years of collecting, storing, unbidden moments  
patient sorting fact from not so factual
time softens sting for some   
warms the soul for others
my trips to the attic are not fewer
but much more comfortable 
I inspect the stew of things that created me
I wonder, how long 
will a child’s memories last?
as for me, 
I believe in, forever.

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