I am lost in a desert without love
and I'm hoping for a sign from above.
Oh, to be saved by a refreshing sup
of clear water from a cool loving cup,
but my chances look despairing and dire,
and soon Lord, I believe I will expire.
In front of me, I see an oasis,
but do my eyes deceive without basis?
Will its love be my long-lost salvation
or just my naive imagination?
Contest: This or That, Vol 30 – 2-4-25 Sponsor: Edward Ibeh - Title Chosen: Etched in Stone
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Etched in Stone
Two hearts glare at each other
Clutching their stone tablets
Written by the finger of their rightness,
Guarding the secret handshake
In single sighted delinquent tantrums
Refusing to share the offertory
Of a loving cup -
Consumed by daggers of thoughtless words
Carved deeply in a scarred heart.
Floral offerings wilt
Upon stone manifestos
Where ashes of incense lay impotent
To clear the air
And wipe clean the embedded words.
Passion falls in pixels of distortion
Blurring valleys where sacred poles burn –
Lie in dust written in the past –
Paralyzed
Unable to rise from handwritten crypts
Placed in captive marble altars,
Epithets like an epitaph for love.
Immoveable stone resists the transcendent
Until forgiveness’ chisel
Re-writes the script of etched words
Crumbling in swaddled tears of humility
That know their need for grace
Consummated in love’s perfect signature.
My cathartic heart
threw away the finished leaves of bitter autumn's burning
I brewed myself a loving cup, made sweeter by my learning
tansy, bay with chamomile, bright meadow flowers to sip
tastes better far than poison to be found upon your lip
Finale
I hope that when my time is up,
I’ll drink my death from a loving cup
I pray that God will understand
I’ll take that road by my own hand
I know that all will not agree,
but my life is mine and I am me.
My children know it is my way
and they’ll be there upon the day
when I depart, this world of strife
To be with God at the end of life.
The crescent moon and sunlight consumed by the moon’s fullness.
The violin violates the quiet and quaint acquaintance of an eyeful.
The cow, with its rudimentary cuds, could only curse the night.
The bull will not croon its lullaby; he & his Bessy will not take flight.
It’s a circus, peculiar, not meant for sleeping babes in arms.
Infants blink black and white; Chagall’s kaleidoscope alarms.
The angels halt their silent night chorus to weigh in on Bach.
The strum of strings stuck to the ooey-gooey moon ad hoc.
A strange night, indeed, with flying fish - I thrice had that dream.
Marc and Bella sail over the circus-clouds with weathered extreme.
I shall fix upon a romance, most of us stay grounded, perhaps
One leg lifts the skirt, and perhaps the armored chap in lapse
Of selfishness, shows his shining sword, promises to protect
His girlfriend, his bride forevermore with a diamond affect.
Marc and Bella don’t look down to see who’s looking up.
While couples fight for a win, they won’t give up their loving cup.
Exploration of intensity and quadrants, amused in edenic perennial.
Chagall’s, are the canvases I would inhabit. It’ll take a millennial.
Soft flurries, at dawn,
spurred on by wind;
the blow and drift
of twilight’s whiteout blizzard.
Achoo, here we go;
how ravenous the roses.
Red petals tickle schnozes.
Earth in royal bloom.
Flopping into the pool,
tummy trouncing off water,
red, white and blue -
colors of American hero.
Loving cup of leaves,
dancing and romancing fools.
Oaks baring their souls.
Rakes vowing, “I do.”
He got made fun of in the boys locker room
When he took off his trunks and gave them a moon
You must have worn a suit on the beach today!
He was so angry, he decided to make them pay
It’s bad enough to be the largest hog on the team
Making fun of his tan line was incredibly mean.
He became the quarter back and showed them all up.
Loved receiving MVP and the Cincinnati loving cup.
Their loving cup sits on a shelf
stained by the dust gathered there
Next to a grainy photo of the chair
where he first styled her hair
Tears trickle 'cross the windshield
their first and last car
Lips melting on a screeching curve
intersecting the moon and the stars
Tossing and turning in my bed
millions of things going in my head
just when I think I'm a step closer
I realize my dreams are thousands of miles ahead
Trying to hold on to that last thread of sanity
Finding the light that was once lost in me
Gasping for air reaching out my right hand
Hoping someone will hold me up and help me stand
Drowning in my own tears
Instead of counting sheep, I'm counting my fears
And just when I'm about to let go
A little voice whispered in my ears
Rise! Rise from your depressed state and anxiety
Rise from the ashes of your self - pity
Show the world what you're made of
Leave them in awe with your ability
Pick yourself up after you stumble
Life is not measured by how many times you fall down
When everything feels like a cookie crumble
Know you could always turn it all around
Don't keep your head down. Look up!
Take and drink from HIS loving cup
Don't wallow in your sorrow, don't you every give up!
Your GOD is bigger than your fear, so look up!
Just one year ago today we found you
abandoned, neglected and left for dead
With one stringy vine drooped over the pot
I would have discarded you but instead
My wife felt something stirring inside her
that said you were struggling so hard to live
She moved you to a warm spot in the house
and gave you all the love she had to give
At first your leaves died and fell to the floor
I thought that perhaps you had given up
But she nurtured and talked and sang to you
she let you drink deep from her loving cup
By a miracle it happened one day
a tiny leaf showed itself to the world
With every day that passed you got stronger
til you let your true potential unfurl
Today we might see some scars of your past
they don’t diminish the beauty that’s true
But create the you that stands proud and strong
all because she never gave up on you
From just one person giving all her love
now this life will be able to survive
All it takes is some love and compassion
for something to become healthy and thrive
Even though you may not be looking, always believe that love is cooking.Quote - Poet’s own
Bake love each day the whole of your life
Mixed with fervour and all kinds of spice
Everything you've ever hungered for
Hopes, dreams, wishes and all you adore.
Stir in measureless ardent passion
Sprinkle on top some sweet compassion
Simmer slowly on the lowest heat
‘Til your heartbeats are on the increase.
Then turn the temperature way up
Whilst drinking wine from the loving cup
Prepare the aura ready to eat
Soft music, dim lights during the feast.
Tempt palates with a special delight
Of afters that please the appetite
Just as we need food so we may live
We’re all in need of love to exist.
I hope you will test my recipe
It truly has done wonders for me.
fine lines sketched into my mirror
how did they get there? weathering
the decades, furrowed brow, creased
eyes with bags am i an old bag -
nonsense.
the mirror crack'd with an angry
whiplash i had to take a look
at my life, evaluate, extenuate
my outlook. hope for this old hag -
that kind of self talk for the birds.
bright city lights, broadway trimmed
my mirror looking extravagant, even
with its pits, spots, wrinkles of time
better lived than alone
am i a crackpot? If i am
i’m sipping from a loving cup
grateful for the full ride
i abide in the faithful arms
of Jesus Christ
his mirror was treacherous, scarred
his countenance was cracked
so much so that he was unidentifiable
except for the blood that loved
that exuded pure love
if i’m proud, my self is humbled
i’ll take those tracks - there is
traction in suffering and giving back
to my fellow man
lightly i cover up those wrinkles
only to blend this well-lived face
i face my reflection, satisfied
without indiscretion’s distraction
3/10/2023
Sponsor: Anthony Biaanco
Oh, mighty bee, hear my heartfelt plea…
Big request by the darling chimpanzee
He wants you to assist the Illinois Grand Prix
Ride in race car with him and his chickadee
They agree they will pay the contest fee
Trying to procure the loving cup key
This invitation to tea is given to you with glee
Lee might show up if he is not on a crime spree
The chimpanzee has not yet invited me
But I’ve heard good things about his Irish tea
I can personally vouch for the blue chickadee
They will serve tea at the top of old oak tree
Please meet them there at twelve until three
This plea is a big deal, not a bit wee.
Tea will be served in tree’s giant Vee.
How much more welcome could you be?
The year is dead, long live new year
Don’t dwell too long, don’t shed a tear
For what is gone, is done, goodbye
There is no how, no who, no why
Instead go forward, see far, head up
Drink joyous gulps from the loving cup
Tomorrow’s a glow, this moment burns bright
So embrace yourself, your star, your light
Tonight is magic, an inflection in time
It’s not about rhythm, but more about rhyme
So be safe, be happy, and healthy always
And let love be with you all of your days
Halloween bear we know you want to be horrifyingly scary
But you are no more frightening than the sugar plum faerie
It is more than your big eyed look and your fluffy fur.
It is your giving heart, which is incredibly pure.
You can dress up in a witch hat and try to look mean.
But your soft-hearted soul and loveliness is too easily seen.
We will never be frightened, so you might as well give up.
You are about as terrifying as a sticker of a loving cup.
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