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Long poem by Christine Phillips | Details

The Storm Is In The Calm

The angles are in the storm
Just before  the break of dawn
Sending a message to everyone
Telling them to remain calm
The angels are singing out loud
They want to break the treacherous cloud
 and relinquish that awful tradition
That has turned water into wine 
swapping barely for wheat and washing the master's feet
Church is church and earth is earth
if you mix water with earth you get dirt
They are swimming in a tradition that is waxed old
guarding and breaching the tethered fence
and whipping up support around the bend
I blink my eyes and cross my legs
So I will prevail until the very end
I have not cried for many days
My chest has grown hard 
and my spirit is getting broad
But today was somewhat peculiar
tears upon tears come rolling over
I wasn't angry or sad 
I just felt that the heavy chain was broken
Piercing me to the core of my heart 
and  ushering me out of the dark to a stronger start
Playing games with innocent lives is not right
Everyday we are rubbing shoulders
But my spirit is getting colder
Here I am sitting on the floor
Looking at the horizon and the broad expanse
Stretching across this magnificent land
I remember when we were in our glory
and how we dominated and conquered the globe
spilling innocent blood plundering 
and running off with  boxes of gold
Those days are  over and its time to seriously think things over
The essence of leadership is not to wave a big stick
But to walk infront and let the people steer the ship
If you ask me what I want,
I would give you a long shopping list
And seven billion people would have seven billion different wish
I could never satisfy everyone's demand 
and sometimes I have to force myself to make concessions.
Empty  your mind and soul 
and start enjoying life before you grow old
You can lead, work hard, and still have fun
Solve the simple and most important  matters first
and leave the difficult ones for last
We have all gone to school
and don't we all know the golden rules?
In business you have no friends 
but relationship is what wins at the end
Loyalty also counts but some people are  sold out
and  I have no choice but to force them out the door
They have enjoyed luxury  for too long 
which is why they have no concrete  plans
They boast of their turkey and red meat
while people are hungry and suffering in the streets
Many have tried to make ends meet
Yet they can't seems to rise to their feet
When my heart melts and my spirit grows cold
Who is there to protect me from the biting cold
They devise ways to throw me out in the streets
With their hired  agents, and  harassers
They  try to take everything away from me
To prove that they are the one in authority
I want to remind them again that their orders cannot
overpower  the supernatural mighty powers
It will grab them by their two hands 
and swirl them across the globe
And they will be puking from their mouth
They have been bickering at me for years
Dragging and pulling me all over the place
Trying to own a world that is not their own
disdaining and looking at me with a terrible frown
They have been turning family against family
Lying to our children  
and filling the children's heads with rumors that are untrue
Who the hell are you?
They have taken everything away from me
Trying to test  their true powers
While their own people are living in darkness
Their streets and communities are desolate at nights
They dragged people out of their beautiful homes
By imposing high taxes that have grow old
so that they can reclaim and take back their property
They don't have good paying jobs
and that really makes me feel sad
I wake early every single day to work from another place
but even so the bills are piling up and I have nothing to cook
Half of the community is empty and they hire
drivers to drive up and down the street
many of whom have nothing to eat
and no decent or comfortable  place to sleep
They do this to make it seems as if the city is upbeat
They deprive people of good paying jobs
so that they can kick them out in the street
And then they can say their journey is complete
Everywhere I go I see their entourage gallivanting about
They have already lost their stance
and  dominance over the globe
Yesterday I walked passed the cemetery
and a cold wind blew in-front of me
Just that spot had the wind blowing in my face
and I could read the message within
The dead souls lying in their graves
are crying out in deep despair
Everytime someone strong comes along
They  weaken them so that they can't dominate the land
They trampled down their power so that they can make them suffer
What is their lesson? no body seems to get it or can learn it
They must come out from behind the hidden curtain
and show their  faces to the entire world
They go around mashing up the world
With their ideology that has already grown old
They use the gangs and mafias
And even the seditious drugs dealers
to harass and con innocent souls
Can they prevent a global catastrophe
When the order is given to melt everything down?
Here I am sitting on the floor
crying like a child who is five years old
I just cannot console myself, I have had it up to my neck
I have not had headache in months but today my spirit is crying
Something strange has been happening
But the Holy one will deal severely with the  perpetrators 
Brother Sam is still messing with my computer
Everywhere he goes he is piling up data
while the bird man is cooking up a plan
 to annihilate the distant land
You waste money on data that cannot prevent an imminent disaster
so be prepared because I have nothing to fear
I  have watched my friend standing on the floor
Her silver hair is crying out loud
They have tossed her around for too long 
when they know that she is very strong
Someone will have to pay the price
for all her hard work, sacrifice  and sleepless nights
Show respect when it is due or the zombies will come for you
They will force you to carry your own tomb stone in your hand
And beckon  you to bury your own carcass in a distant land
Seventeen agencies spread out all over the globe
sticking  karma down their own throat
The storm is in the calm!

Copyright © Christine Phillips | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by Kim Rodrigues | Details


Part 1: FORE SIBERIAN FATE silk wings wet - angel on the lake. starlight glitter separates from the golden wheat. her docile hair, prophecy of ice. winter pink, pinched cheeks. ice skate scrapes - flecks of flakes. the snow queen before her relentless reign, a pretty thing. her smile warms the water, her eyes true glacier blue. Part 2: APOCALYPSE glacier blue eyes thunder, icy waves surprise the tow. it goes under… homemade flakes, bitter bite of solid shards, assails the wicked night. it’s her laugh that shackles the wind, splitting islands, toppling icebergs. her marionette claws control the climate. her blades precisely suffer the ice. mercurial avalanche. thermometer drops. children burrow under blankets. atmospheric fear. dry lines, etched into the snow-white canvas. Part 3: COLD SHOULDERS entrenched in idiopathic insanity a steadfast echo ‘he lied...he lied’ when she could cry no longer her tears crystallized, her iceberg eyes - epic blue. friends’ cold shoulders like disembodied shrugs. misery she cannot shake. one thing she managed to stand over mountain peaks graceful with siberian tiger teeth, shoulders perfectly rounded. her slight figure wrapped in majestic blue - the raw color of her bondage. curiosity of wool-white hair. she often dallied with it’s softness, in the mirror. it could fall to her feet in umbrage, or be whipped up blizzard-like - placated as a braided crown. ‘the fool - he hides!’ she tortures any reminder of his kind eyes, warm smile, kissable lips. Part 4: NO ONE KNOWS she bleeds deep inside - a cavern of stalagmites. her warm heart plunges into an echoing abyss. ‘no one knows…’ sharing would be death. and so she’s buried that bloodied embryo, in the gallows grip of fate. he’d promised her silver, gold, diamonds and pearls. he’d promised her forever. she sought his child. she’d only sire sorrow. thus fate would kick her to the ground. he didn’t know his seed lay in her soil. a fist of fury would pummel all dreams. there’d be icy jewels where eyes pretend. her clairvoyant blues burn for her unborn son. her innocence lost in her north pole irises. she’d not even pause to release him from the grave. evermore, she’d cradle, the doom in her womb. she live for him. the queen vowed to find the absentee father. she’d make him pay, then she’d shatter. spine trembles as the wind howls with increasing fury... Part 5: DESPERATION a tomb buried under snow. the villagers wear eskimo overcoats. unaware that despair drives them ever colder... stern snow whips at lashes and outstretched noses. no longer playful little snowflakes. the tongue cannot endure the sting of ice. knees tremble through compacted snow. shovels a commodity – crippled wooden handles splinter and break. those near the equator also shiver and shake. Their tormented orb hangs precariously in the darkened sky, as the villagers wonder out loud, “why?!” (the snow queen has seasonal rests. she collapses upon her slab of stone. her mind in requiem - cold and comatose.) villagers furiously plant, chop, eat everything green. winter has no habit. it comes and goes with caprice. committee selected to search out answers “when and where did this insanity start?” “is there a who or a why?” they fret not over words, for emotion has become their friend. Part 6: SNOWMEN AT ARMS contact made, with each icicle tap on a man’s shoulder. just in case of age or disguise, she examines the face, the eyes, the expressions of love and hate. she shakes the women, wraps serpentine around their waists, jealous of their size, their youth, virginity. each child she doth despise. her own would be greater, more talented, more handsome. in the winter’s mind these ideas greedily sold, like the shape of a perfect flake. snowmen armed with icicle spears ready to go to war. the village that lends itself to this selfish man will pay. its walkway would become snow-covered gravestones. the one thing that makes her frozen lips curl upwards - the thought of death. her heart of stone does not beat. it bears down like an athlete’s barbell sitting upon her chest. she seems wretched and regal atop her empty sleigh. like an eagle perched, ready to swoop down upon its prey. Part 7: THE RECKONING he laughed when she found him, “snow looks good on you,” humor bit her in the jaw. he had no remorse for his sins “why you were just a pitiful lass.” “look at you now, much lower class.” he grinned, serpentine smug. and she saw her coldness reflected in his eyes. ‘what had she become? his queen?’ an ice queen, indeed! the child she lost, forever ago, bled onto the death pallet of snow. her inner ego humbled. not before him! but before mankind... she recognized the epitome of evil and once again, saw her own shards in his eyes. she didn’t blink, just stared until he broke, splinters from his icy mirror of glass. a minute ember felt in her unbeating heart: ‘they could never forgive me’ ‘winter will fade away’ ‘the best i can bless them with is spring’ ‘they will wonder where i’ve gone, but should not spend one second on that thought’ ‘i shall leave reminders in the stars, in the trees, in hidden caves, not of myself, but reminders of how to love.’ ‘that’s the best i can do, not for me...forget me!’ and winter turned into spring, with lovely things, until the people needed autumn and snow. cookie cutter shapes of hearts, diamonds, and lucky clovers in blue, orange, yellow, red leaves. and love could be smelt again in honeysuckle, roses, lilacs, sweets, and fresh-baked bread. in caves they’d find no more war. just joy and happiness of families holding hands. filling their hearts with pregnant joy, turning them away from jealousy and hate. a time so great...and somehow the snow queen’s heart beats from far away, far below, forgotten but unfrozen, still. The End

Copyright © Kim Rodrigues | Year Posted 2017

Long poem by john fleming | Details

And still i drive - part one

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And sadly...i start to drive.
Through the unremarkable village with its tall 
Georgian Bay window panes, lightless,
devoid of visages; outwardly staring back at my 
Abject countenance with detached contempt and utter disdains.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And i start to drive.
But arriving at the brew i am compelled to ease upon
The pressured brake,
For, at the slowly closing level-crossing with its red lantern gate, 
The tolling bell insists i stop...and patiently wait.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
As once again i prepare to drive.
At last, in rapid haste, the late commuter train 
Has rattled by -
Within:The snoozing jostled crowds and deceitful 
Drunken brokers that boozily sigh.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall... 
But stars do not lie.
Away now from Littlehamptons smothering, towered,
Blue-stepping climes,
Where, high upon high, wheeling fat-bellied gulls
With angry squawks viciously dispute their scavenged finds.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not die.
Motoring downwards to ancient Aruns sheep-strewn 
Meadows and thin grass plains;
Past black flint-knapped walls girdling squat Tudor abodes;
Along the oak and Elm treelined roads 
And winding green verged lanes.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Past the dimly lit little ramshackle station where you welcomed
him in;
Here gently retiring Larkin did once alight 
To muse at a noble dukes tomb
And his boastful castle of grey, hewn-stone might!

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not cry. 
Travelling alongside these thorny lines of Hawthorn hedge,
Where the cunning Stoat and slinking Weasel reside,
That do so ably divide 
A long forgotten, once bustling,
Feudal countryside.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars shall not deny.
Each side: Fields of Harvest mouse and blackened Vole
Beneath the hushed, brown feathered wing -
So rips the sharp beak! 
So deathly the talon!
Swooping upon the heath where brown Linnets sing.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Following the deep sided Rifes where the farmers boy 
In olden days did so joyfully run -
And wade the sharply tinkling shallow Bournes with excitable 
Barking hounds and readied hunting gun.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not lie.
Standing upright, like troops aside their barrack beds,
the ranks of stiffly rattling thatching reeds encouraging 
Spearwort and sedge;
Where the chugging long-legged hens slide across slow glides:
Thus cleverly disguise and hide their speckly eggs.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not die.
And still i drive. Across the hushed and vigilant lands of
Silvery streams
Where glistening otters, safely holted,
Whistle within their slumbering dreams.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not cry.
And still i ride. Past the frozen woods of blasted trees
Sheltering the demure deer shying from night time chill;
And tumbling badgers rolling at ease
Upon dry-cracked carpets of rustling, black spotted, molding leaves.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars shall not deny.
From ancient glade to ancient glade
Where a Gaulic conquerer made an Anglo-Saxon a slave;
And here this Norman dismounted and stood, 
Domesday within his grasp, his thumb between a parchment page.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Exhorting upon my labouring engine to gain the crest 
of yet another leaping hill;
Below: Globular luminosities, distant blobs, sleeping hamlets,
Dwindling narrow cornered streets, 
Misted frills so vacant and still.

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Accompanied by the gleeful, ever gurgling sounds
That wind their way down the sloping downs
To unselfishly feed the constant demands of the neat, red-shingled, 
West Sussex towns.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
Under this vastness of great yawning cosmic sublimes
Ebbing upon the waves of galactic oceans swelling above:
Straddled by eternal Orion with belted sword and terrible club!

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
For as i pass those goodly villages and towers, sneaking a peek,
I look out over the dark outlined shapes and spires:
Wonder i upon that furrowed brow, that crimson cheek -
Did you quietly cry, blaze and rage, or fall you into deep troubled sleep?
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
And still i drive.
But sunrises horizons will surely arrive;
And i feel so weak as i readjust myself to the reclined seat.
For i have miles and miles to drive
Before that welcoming bed that i do most earnestly seek...
Lends to me - and sweeps away my exhausted feet!

Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not lie.
My heavy heart embedded like an anchor deep within
Your reef of sighs;
As motoring over Portsbridge creek my engine flies:
Little painted craft pushing laboriously against the current 
Of a Solents double tide.
A brief glimpse of a lit up bridge, a safe harbour:
The beautiful river Hamble
Where the millionaires yachts reside
Secured and snugly moored
Against a picturesque quayside.
Stars fall under failing skies...stars fall...stars fall...
But stars do not die.
Standing tall and proud, refuting Hampshires Pompey winds,
Beached "Sails of the South" of wide fame renown;
When, rushing in: resounding waves of indifferent sounds -
Crashing over Portseas spray-lashed rocks to remorselessly pound!

Copyright © john fleming | Year Posted 2015

Long poem by Mario DE PAZ | Details

Dante's Divine Comedy Hell translation Canto VII

(Continuing the trip through Hell of Dante with poet Virgilio)

Pah-peh Sah-tan, Pah-peh Sah-tan al-ept!”,
Started Pluto with his hoarse voice toss
And that gentle wise, who any knowledge kept,

Told to encourage me: “don’t have a loss 
By your fright: since any power has he,
Shall not forbid us this rock down to cross”.

Then he turned to that face swollen to see,
And told him: “You have to shut up, wolf damn!
To consume  your rage in yourself agree.

A good why there is to go in this dram:
It is willed up there, where Michael just
Could the wild pride with revenge lam”

Like the ship canvas by blowing wind thrust
Fall totally wrapped, when breaks down the mast
So fell to ground the cruel monster bust.

So we got down in the fourth circle vast,
Of the mournful bank then achieving more
Where every sin of universe is massed. 

Ow divine justice! Where find anymore
New travails and pains as the ones I saw?
And why our fault reduces us so sore?

Like a wave does over Cariddi raw
Crashing on that which meets while rebounding,
So here people fights for a tragic flaw.

Here people was more than else abounding,
On one part and the other, with high screams,
With hard back force just heavy weights rounding.

Jostled each other; and after in such reams
Each one turned around, then rounding back,
Screaming: “Why do you hold? And “Why joke themes?”.

So they were turning in the circle black
From every side to the opposing side,
Shouting in turn with their ribaldry thwack;

Then each one turned again, when to end lied,
Through his half circle to the opposing end.
And I, with my heart in pain almost tied, 

Told: “My master, now you some word expend
About these guys, and if clergy where  all
These with tonsure who stay at our left trend”.

And he to me: “All had of blindness fall
In their minds during their previous life,
That money spent or save with restraint small.

Too much their voice barks with clear strife,
When they reach the two parts of circle round
Where are unpaired when odd faults are rife.

These were clerics, who are not crowned
With top hairs, popes and cardinals as well,
Whose greedy stinginess had to abound”

And I: “Master, among these who here fell
I should be able to recognize some guys
Who for certain failed in these sins for hell”.

And he to me: “In vain this hope can rise:
Their shameful life that made them to be dirt
Renders beyond recognition their guise.

Eternally these two will fight and hurt:
These ones will rise again from their tomb
With closed fist, the others with hairs curt.

Bad giving and bad holding gave them doom
To lose the heavens, forcing them to fight:
Without any regard, for other words no room.

Now you can see, my dear, how much is tight
The use of goods which with Fortune come,
To which the human beings commit quite; 

Since of existing gold and too the sum 
With ancient one, of all these weary souls
What tempers their hunger could not become”.

“My master”, then  I told, “tell me the roles 
Of this Fortune which you evoked to me,
What is it, which so the world’s goods controls?”.

And he: “Ow humans fool to high degree,
So much ignorance is offending you!
Now with my sentence you must just agree.

The one whose knowledge transcends any view,
Created heavens and a guide them gave
In order to any place the shine ensue,

An even dealing out of light to save.
Similarly with the human shines he made
Titling general minister, guide brave

Who could exchange goods of any vain grade
From people to people and among breeds,
The adverse will of humans to dissuade;

Thus one people grows faint and other leads,
Fortune judgment to follow  they are  bound,
Which is as occult as a snake in weeds.

Your knowing can make to her no rebound
She provides, judges, and pursues as well
Hers reign as do other gods being crowned.

Hers changes are then frequent and impel:
She must for necessity have great speed;
Is frequent who succeeded to excel. 

She is the crucified often indeed
Even by the ones who should her commend,
Her giving blame with fault and bad read;

But she is blissful and does not intend:
With other prime creations has delight
Turns hers sphere  and is joyful with no end. 

Now almost we descend to major blight;
Any star then already falls which rose
When I first moved, and delay isn’t right”.

We cut the circle  at the else bank close
Over a seething water source to spill
Into a ditch deriving from its flows. 

Water was darker than its dirt to fill;
And we, following the course of waves dark,
Went below through a different way still.

In the so called Stix quagmire as a mark
Goes then this wicked stream, when it went down
To the grey beaches evil to remark.

And I, while closely was looking around,
Saw muddy people down in that morass,
Were naked all of them, with an aspect frown. 

These one to other hit with hands in mass,
But with head and with breast and with feet too,
With teeth cutting each other in contrasts.

The good master told: “My dear son now you
See just the souls of those by anger won;
And I would also like that you sure knew

That underwater sighing still goes on,
Which then makes  this water boiling on top,
As your eye can tell you wherever spun.

Steeped down in slime they tell: “Our faulty drop
Had place in sweet air where is happy sun,
We brought with us a very slothful flop:

We are now with gloom in the black sludge spun”. 
This anthem they are gurgling in the throat,
Since any full word from them can’t outrun”.

So then we turned around the dirty moat
A long way, between the pond and dried bank,
Looking guys in mud cramming and no float.

We reached then a tower back foot from flank 

Copyright © Mario DE PAZ | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by Mario DE PAZ | Details

Canto XIX Hell translation

Simon wizard, you poor under his sway
That all things of God, which then of good will
Must be always brides, and you birds of prey

For gold and silver adulterate still,
Now it's time that the trumpet sounds for you,
Because you in third circle just stay ill.

We were already, at the tomb next new,
Clambered up to the tall rock at that place
Where is the center above the ditch cue.

O supreme wisdom, how great the art base,
Which in heavens, on earth and ill world show,
And how much justice your virtue can trace!

On the banks and on the bottom I saw
The stone very full with of holes a lot,
All of the same size and each well round though.

These seemed neither be of more nor less slot
Than those you found in my Saint John church nice,
Where the baptizers their faith office got;

One of those,  few years ago imprecise,
I broke to help a guy just drowning there:
And this to testify truth and lie vice.

Out of the mouth of each hole leaned bare
Of a woeful sinner legs and feet too
To the belly, the rest down to the hair.

Both soles burned to all of them hitherto;
Their joints were strongly flickering so that,
They might be broken wacky as a screw.

Likewise the glowing of oily things fat
To move then up to reach the upper end,
So were there from the heels to tips just at.

“Who is that, master, who worries must send
Flickering than the others well much more”,
I told, “and whose flame has stronger its trend?”

And he: “If you like, we go to explore
Down there then to the lowest lying bank,
From him you can all about his sins score” 

And I: “So I like , as you like and thank:
You are my lord, and you already know
That your will is mine, higher is your rank”

Then we arrived at the fourth bank below;
We turned at left hand and well down we got
Just to the narrow bottom riddled so.  

Good master yet his side till end did not
Offer to me, and thus we reached this way
Where that one was crying with his foot hot

“Whichever you are, upside down then stay,
Mournful spirit who as a pole stuck are”,
I started, “If you can, your words display”

I stood like friar who confessing were
Perfidious killer, who, since stuck is,
Then asks him for death to stop his anger.

And he screamed: “Are you there erect faces,
Are you there erect , Bonifacius now?
For years about  the writing he lied has.

If you then to be full of goods allow 
For which you were never restrained from wile
To pretty woman, and then her torn sow?”.

I became as those ,who stay doubtful while,
Not understanding what herd as reply,
Almost confused, and no word is worthwhile.

Then Virgilio told: “To tell him try:
“That one I'm not, not the one you believe””;
And I replied to follow him thereby.

For this the soul his feet just ought to weave;
Then he,  sighing and with a crying sound,
Told me: “So what you want from me achieve?

If to know my person you are so bound,
That you for this down the bank now have run,
Learn that I had the great mantle around;

Really I was of the she-bear son,
So greedy well my puppies to wind on,
That up and here my assets were done.

Behind my head are here the others won
Who me preceded in simony the sin,
To the crevices of the stones put con.

There I shall fall also when will come in
The one that I believed before you were,
When I first asked you with agitation.

But for more time fire my feet incur 
And upside down longer I have been so,
Than he will be sticked with red feet spur;

Since after him then will come with worse woe,
From west, a minister with any law,
Such as is correct that he on me grow.

Novel Jason will be, of whom read raw
In Maccabees; and as to that was weak
His king, so to him whom France as king saw”

I don't know if I was with mind oblique,
Since I responded him just in this mode:
“Ah, tell me now: which treasure had to seek

Lord of ours to Saint Peter just before
Giving to the lordship of him his keys?
Nothing else rather than ”follow my core”.

Nor Pete nor others from Mathias seize
Gold or silver, when he arose by draw
To the place where his bad soul lost through these.

For this it’s right, you are damned by good law;
And now good care take of the money took
Which made you against Charles so proud with flaw.

And if I were not  hindered by the hook
Of obeisance for keys so highest then
Which you held in happy life but mistook,

I would use even more hard words again;
Because your greediness makes the world sad,
Crushing good people and lifting bad men.

Of you Pastors the Vangelist known had
When woman who on waters takes a seat
As whore he saw with kings in a way bad;

That who was born with seven heads complete,
And from five horns had power great indeed
Til hers husband could to virtue compete.

You God of gold and silver could concede;
How differ idolaters then from you,
But that they pray one, and you hundred feed?

Alas, Constantin, how  much harm could do,
Not your conversion, but that wealthy gift
The first rich pope of story you gave to!”

And while such notes singing I had to lift,
Either was bitten by conscience or rage,
Strongly both legs was pushing with strong shift. 

I truly think much liked this my duke sage,
Since he attended with so happy face
The sound of words with truth I could engage.

So with both his hands me had to embrace,
And after he had at his chest all me,
He climbed back the way then leaving the place.

Tired to hug me he didn’t seem to  be,
So he brought me up of the arch to top
Which from fourth to fifth bank is designee. 

Here weight to ground he could gently drop,
Gentle respect to rocks dirty and steep
That would oppose to goats  a severe stop.

Then I discovered a new valley deep.

Copyright © Mario DE PAZ | Year Posted 2014

Long poem by James Inman | Details

Life's Fading Light-Part 2-Heroic Crown of Sonnets


For in the end it's just one soul that's passed.
Alone I'll lie in sod of greenest grass
to answer for the sins that I've amassed
at gates of gold I'll see if I may pass.
In to this world I entered all alone
in cold and dark and dank so old I grow,
on thoughts of younger days I bitch and moan
with little hope of changing what I know.
But, now as time reflects upon my skin,
the lines of life grow deep upon my face.
I feel the fear of darkness closing in
and of my soul it leaves but little trace.

     So lay my corpse upon this bier stone cold.
          The end of life so often is foretold.


The end of life so often is foretold
from storms of pained emotions we retreat.
When colors fade to black as we grow old
we search for gold from rainbows we can cheat.
Through lonely thoughts of our demise we trod,
yet try, we still, to save our lives from dust
With souls we've fore to sold we offer God
if but in his creation he would trust.
In promise lost we bide our time, we cope,
for what remains beyond our short lived lives.
The heaven of our father's faith's our hope,
inside of us is where this hope yet thrives.

     Is our eternal faith enough to know,
          when cold the winds of fate speak soft and low?


When cold the winds of fate speak soft and low
I hear its voice sing smooth in morning dew
and all of life on wings aloft will go
and fly on breeze of gentle pastel hue.
So sweet the taste of life will linger on
with rainbow flavors left upon the tongue,
like cream filled candy, but too soon it's gone
dissolved like so much piles of beetles' dung,
I know that life is precious as fine gems
reflecting each new moment that we live
with flowers' petals sweet upon their stems
our time in life is all we have to give.

     As years in life pass slow like buds in cold
          in warmth and light the blooms of time unfold.


In warmth and light the blooms of time unfold
to search through lost emotions is our goal.
In hope that we shall keep from growing old
we capture fading thoughts to keep us whole,
but when the final sunset has gone dark
the memories we cherished are all lost
and only ghostly photos leave the mark
of lives that pass like melting winter frost.
I can not bear the thought of you alone
when life has passed for me and I am gone.
What good of all the sweetness you have known
if lonely night awakes to lonely dawn.

     Forever lies I've promised, you will see,
          as petals fall, my life will cease to be.


As petals fall my life will cease to be,
yet time goes on without a moment lost
and still the winds of fate persist and blow
without remark or care or pennies cost.
What worth am I but in your care and love
or have I lived my life in selfish need.
I've tried so hard, for you, to rise above
but in your eyes do you just see my greed.
For am I who you wanted me to be,
the perfect man to share my life with you,
or did you wish for me to just be me
and give you love and promise to be true?

     When end is near I know in you I'll dwell
          in whispered songs of love my heart will quell.


In whispered songs of love my heart will quell
so soft it beats when broken scars are healed
yet pain of loss for you I can't dispel
when left to dream of all that you've revealed.
The secret  words of love that you have told
in moments sweet and pleasured touch exposed
to me are bits of life for me to hold
when fantasies of you have been reposed.
Now laid to rest inside my very soul,
I've loved you strong and deep for oh so long
for in my life you've played a leading roll.
Without you dear this life would be but wrong.

     Though many words as yet I wish to tell
          with tender tears to you, I say farewell.


With tender tears to you, I say farewell,
my sweet, my life, my love, my need, my soul.
From you the one for whom my heart once fell,
this world of pain will now exact its toll
Too soon my corpse in death will lay stone cold
and tears from you will be my sole repose.
The troubadour whose words sing songs so bold,
alas, is left struck mute in death's last throes.
Will loves last flower fade without perfume,
to die unsmelled with human heart's adieu
its fragrant scent to linger in my tomb
or heaven sent, will stay and comfort you?

     At end of life my love I hope you'll know,
          when orchids bloom in beauty life's aglow.

Life's Fading Light

When orchids bloom in beauty life's aglow,
as time, with heavy brow, is nature planned,
too soon the beating heart begins to slow
when passion's ember burns the gentle hand.
With flames of love that flicker old and grey,
but moments gone, as youth filled questions asked,
the feelings lost to seasons never stay
for in the end it's just one soul that's passed.
The end of life so often is foretold
when cold the winds of fate speak soft to me.
In warmth and light the blooms of time unfold,
as petals fall, my life will cease to be.

     In whispered songs of love my heart will quell,
          with tender tears, to you, I say     ...farewell.


Copyright © James Inman | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Mark Massey | Details

Redemption part 2

The Procession Through love we make the passage into light. In gardens lush each mourner stood abreast. Then hand in hand they walked up to the site she chose to be her final place of rest. And all had gathered 'round the open ground to sprinkle petals on her coffin womb. Cold silence seemed to be the only sound as bearers placed it in its earthly tomb. Then far behind the mourners stood a pair of men, in whisper, as they viewed in grace. One spoke about his life now in despair and other days that brought him to this place. “No god of love would leave me in such pain, alas my faith in thee has been in vain”. Faith in Vain Alas my faith in thee has been in vain. I called on you to give me strength to fare the tragedies that fell on me like rain. and in that hour, I could not find you there. My son and wife are now three years deceased. Malignancy has filled my mind with fear. I’ve given up my search for inner peace. Now only manic demons harbor here. I still aspire that one day soon to be released from mortal shackles that I bear and seek to find in heaven my relief; through faith in thee, I hope to find them there. I wonder why all gods of grace demand to test the mortal circumstance of man? The Cancer To test the mortal circumstance of man, the body fights a battle from within. The cure, so strong, that many can't withstand the poisons meant to make them whole again. My ravaged state has left me but a shell and made me wonder why I even tried. And as I drifted deeper into hell, my life was saved but for it faith had died. My guiding light had been my family, in darkest moments there to lead me on. I realized that he watched over me, providing strength in them to keep me strong. To know my loving family sustains, In death, our living memories remains. The Death of a Son In death our living memories remain. Our patriarchal heirs shall carry on. In vain, I walk because there is no name to call a man who lost his only son. He stood with me when I was in despair and as those hopeless visions filled my head. So futile my request that life be fair or pray for death to take me in his stead. My grandchild's birth, his son, shall free my pain; too young to know his father could not stay; reminding us the best of him remains. But sorrow wins and death shall claim its prey. With family we can conquer life’s demands; one man cannot secure such futile plans. The Widower One man cannot secure such futile plans to ever mend a mother’s broken soul. She was my lover and my cherished friend, the anguish finally took its mortal toll. We placed her in the ground atop her pride. This single grave now binds me to this ground. And soon my body will be placed aside with fleeting hopes our spirits will be bound. I called to Him, “Have mercy on me lord, for I surrender as a broken man.” I knew it was his judgement I abhorred. But who was I to doubt his holy plan? A granite stone engraved for evermore; the only way my memories endure. The Emptiness The only way my memories endured was fruitless hope now withered into dust. And everything in life that was assured, now gone and so in nothing do I trust. My shredded faith I’ve cast into the air. Those pieces I may never find again. With you my friend, these memories I share so in my sorrow you may understand. The friend just stood in silence for a spell then turned and looked into the mourner's eyes. He spoke of this great gift that had befell upon him just before his son had died. True faith in life and love one can restore They live within our hearts forevermore. The Child They live within our hearts forevermore Each mourner grieves the passing of this friend. The life and death for all is to insure that everything that ends begins again. A child is such a blessing to receive, so filled with love it heals our earthly pains. Just take this child to heart and you’ll receive the blessing of the love he has ordained. And those who gathered stood for one last prayer. With silence broken, each then found their way along the paths where others shared despair among the stones where mortal remnants lay. The soul will find its way to Heaven’s door, a stone shall mark all those that came before. The Redeemed A stone shall mark all those that came before. The solitary soul shall reign unbound. With mortal flesh interned forevermore, we pray the soul is now eternal bound. Through faith we seek an everlasting life. We hope our prayers are heard in heaven's heights. The fragile son may not escape the strife. Through love we make our passage into light. Alas, my faith in thee has been in vain; you test the mortal circumstance of man. In death, our living memories remain. One man cannot secure his futile plan. The only way our memories endure; they live within our hearts forevermore.
Heroic Crown of Sonnets Repost 2016

Copyright © Mark Massey | Year Posted 2018

Long poem by Laura Leiser | Details

The WORD- Heroic Crown of Sonnets


Yet sacrifice would cover for Love's sake
before that time, the Law was sent to guide
sin offerings appeased man's guilty state
but could not change his rebel heart inside.
The WORD was written down on Torah scrolls
with warnings and commandments to obey
God's prophesies with promises foretold
of blessings and forgiveness when they strayed.
To Israel, His people, God proclaimed
a Covenantal promise of a king
Messiah, Blessed One, would come and save
a broken people, prone to wandering.
A glimpse of hope, they waited through the years
one holy night the Promised One appeared.


One holy night the Promised One appeared
You came to us in lowly manger stall
a helpless babe, to give Your life so dear
the Lamb of God, pure sacrifice for all.
While in this world You walked a sinless path
the Father's will to follow til the end
You healed the sick, the lame, the blind, and cast
the evil demons out of hearts of men.
You shared God's kingdom come to multitudes
of hungry men and women, all were fed
You broke the loaves of bread for all and knew
that one day they'd reject the Living Bread.
The Living Bread, Lord Jesus, new and fresh
God's only Son, the WORD, came in the flesh.


God's only Son, the WORD, came in the flesh
fulfilling all the prophesies of old
yet scribes and pharisees would soon reject
You, Jesus, since You did not fit their mold.
Instead, You spoke of matters of the heart
not outward acts, but conflicts deep within
of pride and greed and deeds done in the dark
of right and wrong, of wickedness and sin.
You said You had God's power to forgive
if we believe, Your love could set us free
transform our hearts so we could truly live
for You would take our place up on that tree
You came to give us hope and draw us near
to preach the gospel truth for all to hear.


To preach the gospel truth for all to hear
Your people came from all across the land
You taught in parables to make things clear
but still Your people did not understand.
For sin had marred their thinking, blinded eyes
still many listened, some believed Your words
the call went out, repent, believe, realize
You were Messiah, Son of Man, on earth.
And yet good deeds by man could not atone
for Holy God demanded righteousness
the only way to God was Christ alone
to die for sins and our rebelliousness.
You came to cover our unrighteousness
You came to save mankind from sin and death.


You came to save mankind from sin and death
it was the Father's will that this be done
with Holy Spirit power in Your breast
a substitute for sin You would become.
Then as was planned, one night You were betrayed
by one of Your disciples, cursed kiss!
An unjust trial, false accusers paid
Your sentence, blasphemy, then scorned and whipped.
A crown of thorns was placed upon Your head
while heading to the cross Your people scoffed
"Go save Yourself!", while silently you bled
You suffered, then you died up on that cross.
Atoning sacrifice, Your life You gave
then You arose, triumphant from the grave!


Then You arose, triumphant from the grave
and bursting forth, unfettered by the tomb
You broke the bonds of death, prepared the way
for us to gain eternal life with You.
With transformed body, You appeared to man
to women and disciples that You loved
appeared to crowds before Your grand ascent
a testament that You would rise above.
You carried all my sins, what matchless grace!
and conquered death for all those who believe
if I confess, believe in humble faith
You fill me with Your Spirit to receive.
You sit at God's right hand in bright array
And from above, You'll come again someday.

And from above You'll come again someday
in righteousness and judgment to correct
this wicked weary world from fallen state
and reign as Holy King with Your elect.
Oh, Holy God, it is not ours to know
or understand the whats and whys and ifs
except as You reveal, as Your WORD goes
henceforth across the earth that all might live.
The truth in Your WORD challenges our hearts
to follow in obedience or scorn
the message of Your grand, redeeming part
in history, a Rose among the thorns.
New life begins, I'll sing in heaven's rhyme
the WORD was there before the dawn of time.


The WORD was there before the dawn of time
His Voice, unheard by any living soul
Most Holy God proclaimed His grand design
with sounds so pure it made the angels glow.
Creator God, who knew the heart of man
desired faithfulness, a choice to make
the enemy was near to thwart God's plan
yet sacrifice would cover for Love's sake.
One holy night the Promised One appeared
God's only Son, the WORD, came in the flesh
to preach the gospel truth for all to hear
You came to save mankind from sin and death.
Then You arose, triumphant from the grave
And from above You'll come again someday.

Written 5/12/2016
Heroic Crown of Sonnets

Copyright © Laura Leiser | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Lu Loo | Details

Scare Me Good Poetry Contest

I crept into the pit of hell all alone. Contingent upon my lifestyle I knew this could be my last day alive…
She haunted me in my dreams. She terrorized me in the sunlight but through it all she never was able to reach out and grab me physically. I knew she was crazy. I just knew it this whole time. But maybe it was me who was crazy…Not once has she ever mentioned a word, just glared looks that could kill. But maybe I deserved it. I was walking around the bend leading into the woods by my cottage near the west side of Lake Michigan. Cool breeze that night. Soft harvest moon aglow and the temperature almost too chilly for my favorite black hoodie. I love the color black. It’s deep. It’s dark. Just like me. I’ve always craved the ebony skies after dusk settles and the sun hides for about ten hours. With my lantern in hand, I had just stepped into the part of the woods where I usually sit and write at this one picnic table. It had scratches of names written across it. Swear words and devil worshiping symbols. “IF YOU BREATHE ANOTHER DAY, I WILL KILL YOU” was my favorite. I never got scared, I felt at peace in the blackness. Must be because I too held a blackness in my soul for years now. Too many to count, probably. I felt a slight chill and sensed an aura behind me. I quickly turned and saw nothing. It happened again, but this time in the front of me. I jerked forward like someone had just pushed me. I hopped up and twisted around with arms flaring outward ready to pounce like a tiger on his prey. I was actually scared this time… The rustling of the maples and the whispering of the willows gave me a sense of apprehension. Was there a being somewhere near me? An animal ready to attack? I knew there were coyote's in the woods but I’m sure they would be more scared of me, than I would be of them. “BAM!!” I got socked on the back of my head from what felt like a baseball bat! Barely conscious on the ground with dirt in my eyes I turned around and saw a very foggy figure. Squinting I kept staring, my eyes dry and burning. “HOLY CRAP!” It looked like death. Death has many shades of figures. It could look like a ghost. It could look like a vampire or a werewolf. But this thing was more than that. It quickly stepped forward and with its deep sharp razor like claws gashed my forehead! All I could taste was blood dripping down. Blood in my eyes, in my mouth and all over my neck. My eyesight was very dim but I could have sworn I saw what looked like a bloodsucking succubus with wings. But…I wasn’t one hundred percent sure. I thought to myself, “was this her? Was it she who had been haunting me? Surely it can’t be female for how strong this monster is.” I rubbed my scrapped up and blood ridden hands on my jeans and cleared my eyes as best as I could. I saw what I saw and I will never forget it as long as I live. Before I knew it, “ARRRRRGHHHH RROARRRR AHHHHH!!!” A loud roar came out of her mouth and fire flashed at my feet. With my feet on fire I ran around screaming for relief. No relief could be found. I screamed for help. “HELP ME! PLEASE! GOD HELP ME!! I’M BEING ATTACKED!!” I felt nothing except my feet ablaze and I watched my toes shrivel like embers in a fire pit. The pain was atrocious and my screaming got quieter. I had no more energy left. The final blow was what killed me. She had an eight point, ten-feet long black wing with razor sharp edges. One flap from the right one slid across my stomach. I bled out in buckets and there I laid in a pool drowning in my own blood. My intestines were falling out and I was slipping on them as I was crawling. Now I lay in a tomb covered in rotting weeds. I deserved to die that day. I deserved to die that way. I had never admitted to anyone my wrong doings and my poor actions. It was about time I paid for my crime. I wonder if anyone ever even knew if I was dead…or why I was dead. That womanly beast was a figment of my imagination. I had murdered a young woman when I was only twenty years old and that was my ways of punishing myself. She was never real. She was never haunting me. I had been haunting myself out of guilt. I walked into the woods that day with a lighter to set myself on fire. I had hit myself in the head with a baseball bat. I was carrying razor sharp knives to slash across my dirty face. I made an eight pointed black glove using a pocket knife for each finger. I had been the reason she died and now I deserved to die in vain. My psyche created a way for me to vindicate my murderous actions. Was I finally exonerated? Nope. Now I rot in the pit of hell. But still, I feel at home. A life lived wrongly, is a life died justly. Scare Me Good Poetry Contest Date Written: September 21, 2016

Copyright © Lu Loo | Year Posted 2016

Long poem by Leon Enriquez | Details


1.  Ancient esoteric teachings state that
"The Christ" is the divine blueprint for the man
imaged in the likeness of God. This is the divine
destiny for each soul that walks the path of life.
2.  This is the final destiny of all men of goodwill,
and belongs to our collective humanity, regardless
of spiritual affiliation. 
3.   "The Christ" bestowal is for all mankind and 
is all-inclusive. 
4.   This poem is my personal reflection of that 
harmony; and is not meant to be a religious discourse. 
My apologies to those who think that I am evangelising. 
That's not my intention. Thank you.)

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

An Easter song to tell the world
That Love lives strong in joyous swirls.

A brand new sphere with promise bright;
From darkness here to realms of light.

A happy morn with wondrous sight;
Now comes the dawn: glorious, sure light!

Round stone slab rolled, the tomb empty;
Laid linen folds for faith to see.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The Christ once slain in sure fashion,
From death's domain: resurrection!

The empty tomb with folded sheets,
Just like a womb where new life greets.

Lone angel waits, glad tidings dwell;
Here at tomb's gate, pious women tell.

The women tell of empty earth;
The Christ now dwells in Love's re-birth.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The stone slab moved so we can see
The hollow groove, unmasked empty.

A promised plan: beyond fable,
From Son of Man, grand miracle.

A grandeur shown for select few:
The Christ made known in glorious hues.

The Christ once slain in sure fashion,
From death's domain: resurrection!

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Christ is risen to set us free;
From death's prison, from misery. 

How do we know that this is true?
Love and truth show what Spirit cues.

The facts don't lie on this account;
The Christ did die upon that mount.

Now trumpets blast for The Christ lives
A sacred trust, for God forgives.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The Christ Living beyond death's veil;
Light undying as Love prevails.

Man is made whole in mind and heart;
A brand new soul that lives Love's art.

Grace now uplifts, death and sin die;
What precious gift, Love and life sigh.

This day of grace when Love abides;
Truth frees our race from time and tide.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Today true light shines once again
To put things right in message plain.

Hence man can live with precious peace
For Love now gives true life increase.

Thank you dear God for Love and Light;
Thank you dear Lord for Grace and sight.

The risen Lord calls out to each;
To look to God within sure reach.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

With grace and calm, follow your heart;
Love is the balm that helps you start.

Go on your way, live night and day
With passion play, with Love that stays.

Live life path well with wholesome cheer;
Love all who dwell on earthly spheres.

Let peace abide with ebb and flow;
Let joy firm stride in your life's show.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Our time is brief, our days must end;
Go beyond grief, let your soul tend.

Our space is small, our act looks vain;
Yet fond Love calls to live truth plain.

Our life is brief, our moments tint;
Just live and breathe, listen Love hints.

Our tale must end with death that comes;
Around the bend, Love squares all sums!

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

I am the Light that lights the way;
Live with clear sight through night and day.

I am the Way, life beyond life;
Live well each day with faith alive.

I am the Truth, the humble gate;
Live Love's sure proof to find your fate.

I am the Life, the precious gift;
Live beyond strife -- The Christ uplifts!

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Look to this day, for life ascends;
Live your fond play, see death descend.

Look to this earth, for heaven comes;
Live your sure birth, see wonders sum.

Look to this race, for blessings form;
Live your bold trace, see faith's sure norms.

Look to this heart as Yeshua said:
"Live your best part: Love unafraid."

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The Christ now calls to one and all;
Be beyond gall, rise when you fall.

Follow your heart, link mind and soul;
Begin and start with action bold.

Seek path and choice, seek happy way;
Fill poise and voice, live well each day.

"Come follow me," The Christ still says,
"Now let peace free true life this day."

The Christ for all mankind remains
To big and small The Kingdom's gain.

And for all time, The Christ within
Speaks the same rhymes: "Come, let me in."

The Son of Man loves all mankind;
You know you can; God's Love now finds.

Listen, The Word now comes to each;
Let Love be heard within fond reach.

Your actions preach the tact you take;
Love lives fine reach to heal and make.

Now act by act, you fashion here
The heart you fact as cause marks clear.

Here at the end, true message sums:
Love works the plan, Love facts outcome.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Leon Enriquez
20 Apr 2014 (on Easter Sunday)

Copyright © Leon Enriquez | Year Posted 2014

Long Poems