Millenniums Poems | Examples

Weathered Opportunities

Beyond the relics stance tainted feigned glory, 
the achievers had gifted us their puzzles,
speckled based best in their field of theory,
like Baia hot baths, can't stomach its guzzles,
aloft or cavernous, or in a quarry,
like those Pyramid guys fuss up their fuzzles, 
as rock piles escape while history depicts,
the bookshelves leave those green stains with those quick picks.

Millenniums, centuries, decades, plus years,
anthropologists helped by benefactors,
busy in their research before disasters,
like Baia downed in Naples Bay, off its shores,
letters for funding by their alma maters,
reach prosperous grads where old money outpours,
and achievers will have their dribblings published,
skilled wins the Nobel Prize as greatly cherished.

Last Day

We have this time around.
Thus all will fade.
Millenniums underground. 
As bones turn to clay.
It is deeply profound.
To kneel down and pray.
For we know not that hour.
Nor the last day.

Matthew 24:36.

TIME

TIME


Precise and constant it marches on.
It waits for no one, yet will stop to heal a broken heart.
Measured in thousandths of a second by swimmers
And in millenniums by the Creator of All Time.
They say it’s money—but it doesn’t make sense
That last weekend can seem so long ago
Yet each day went by so quickly. 
It’s fast as lightening and slow as molasses. 
Two can stand side by side and it flies for one and crawls for the other.
A friend to the child who anxiously awaits the school bell at the end of day.
An enemy to the lover who waits for the 10:35 to take her soldier to a far away land.
It means everything to the watchmaker
And nothing to the boy fishing on the riverbank.
It’s “Time On My Hands” and “Time In A Bottle”
And if you drop the e and add an i-n-g, it’s Rotten - and it’s Perfect.         
And twice a year it laughs at those of us who
Spring forward -- and then Fall back
Thinking that we can change it.

Mariruth Pyatt

In the Midst of Time

In the midst of timeless time, I stand;
But still, she does not stand,
Elegantly moving, tick tock, tick tock, all day,
The price of delay, too heavy to pay.

Millenniums tick by like ponderous dinosaurs,
Time never blinks, always ticking and tocking,
Centuries come, centuries go; no scaurs,
To tell the tale of an ancient king.

Decades tumble upon others,
Years like yesterday roll by,
Months and days tuck arms together like brothers,
Time in a rush, no time to say goodbye.

By the hours, time revs up speed,
Minutes not enough to run,
With frantic fingers, seconds arms feed,
The last of time allocated and moves on.

The Memorial 2024

How many times do we humans reflect
On one of the most famous moments in history?
And this is the key to unlocking
The answers to what once was a mystery!

"One man sinned so death spread to all"
How often angered this makes people feel.
To balance, "One died so all could live"
And every wound this one would heal.

On Nisan 14, two millenniums back
After the sun had set,
A remembrance service was established.
Kept simple so none would forget

The value of this person's life,
The purpose of this special occasion,
Why this event strengthens the hope
Of hearts filled with deep appreciation.

On March 24th after sundown this year
You are warmly welcome, one-and-all
To join us in remembering Jesus' love
At your nearest Kingdom Hall.

To learn all about what Jesus did,
What he will do in the future, and more...
Visit www.jw.org
Or speak to a JW when they knock on your door.

self harm

The self-harm

Sometimes, I think I live inside the head of an ogre
whatever happens, none of us are in control, but
of a malign monster with brain cancer
Millenniums ago, when the brain was vigorous
it caught a microorganism of the type that can hide
a long time before branching out powerfully trying
 to take over by altering the brain's chemistry.
Over time, the foreign body has tried to destroy it.
The cohesion that makes a brain function almost
to perfection; alas, as is with Beau's ideal, one time or another fails but can be repaired, and peace ensues.
There was a time when the monster cell was nearly 
defeated but was saved by lesser pests 
thinking its
cunning could be useful so it could grow alongside 
The bacterium grew immensely strong and has begun threatening and altering the normal function 
of the mental capacity of an encephalitic existence
the world might collapse, and a dead planet will circle the galaxy because we now know 
the monster cell's purpose was to destroy god's 
failures.

Millennium's Age

To commit known murder in God's name
Is vanity of the most insane.

Why must they hide their faces
If they are not men ashamed?
Why do they lie in wait
To ply a terrorist trade.
Little school-age children
Are trained to war and hate.
Any others unlike them
Who won't assimilate?
There will always be another
Filling billions more graves.
Pit brother against brother
Throughout millenniums age.
While those Innocent suffer
Yet the guilty take no blame.
Why must they hide their faces
If they are are not men ashamed?

With Each Morning

With each morning, we awaken.
Horrors of our yesterdays ought to be forsaken.
We must move on and remain unshaken.
Dreams for a new future let’s start making.

I think of the flood that came in Noah’s time.
Centuries ago, God cleansed the world of sin’s grime.
The Ark landed in a new place and likely a new clime.
A rainbow appeared for a new day breaking.

Imagine how they felt when that rainbow they did see.
As it shone with beauty, hopelessness was meant to flee.
God made this happen back then, so I can foresee
a day of joy when God’s people no longer are aching.

*"Reflections of pink, and gold on heaven’s floor,
a hint of memories that came millenniums before,
and the radiance of God’s glory, eyeing from behind the shore,
is a new dawn, for our taking."

*(last verse by Martin Braun)

Hey Boomers

What will we do now that we’ve reached Gen Z
Will we have to do like hurricanes do
Give them names like Alpha, Beta, and Gamma
or perhaps just Roman Numeral I and II

Shall we call the new babies Gen Trump
Or perhaps Gen Pandemic or Gen Covid
Or do we just let them live out their lives
Like long ago generations did

You see, I don’t recall Gen Caveman
Or Gen Industrial Age
And they seemed to have made it just fine
Without the help of some superfluous adage

I wonder why we started naming ourselves
Are the children so ashamed of their parents
Perhaps afraid they won’t be able to overcome
the terms of their inheritance

With Each Morning's Promise

Reflections of pink, and gold on heaven’s floor, 
A hint of memories that came millenniums before, 
And the radiance of God’s glory, from the heart's core, 
Is a new dawn, for our taking.

In these shades of light, a narrative is spun, 
Of women's strength and battles won, 
For rights to choose, for equality won't be shun, 
With each morning, a world's foundation shaking.

They rise for autonomy, their voices clear, 
For choices over bodies, a future sincere, 
Where decisions are theirs, with no shadow of fear, 
With each morning, a new dawn's awakening.

Equal pay, a demand that echoes wide, 
Breaking the chains of wage gaps, side by side, 
A future where worth isn't unfairly denied, 
With each morning, a brighter horizon breaking.

Promotions earned through merit and skill, 
Not hindered by gender, a world to fulfill, 
A future where glass ceilings shatter at will, 
With each morning, progress relentless and unshaking.

Hope whispers of change, with each sunrise, 
A world where justice and fairness arise, 
Where women's rights, like the sun, shall rise, 
With each morning, a future resolute for the taking.

With Each Morning

Each morning dawn brushes paint across the sky,
pastel colors to herald the rise of sun's golden eye.
He warms the earth. Dew's moisture he'll dry
before the world is waking.

Reflections of pink, and gold on heaven’s floor,
a hint of memories that came millenniums before,
and the radiance of God’s glory, eying from behind the shore,
is a new dawn, for our taking.

Sunrise lights the world as if it were enchanted.
Beauty surrounds us but nature is taken for granted,
marred by opinions, biased and slanted. 
Hostility is of mankind's making.

Memories of soldiers as they marched off to war,
Some never returned, and others living with the encore
of battles fought and lost, wondering what it was for.
Nightmares that wake them, shaking.

But with each morning arrives glowing rays of hope.
Glimmers a new day brings and with it a way to cope
with life's hardships that make us walk a tightrope.
It's a painstaking chore: peacemaking.

The day will come when there will be an end of strife
in a world where corruption and fear are rife.
There will be no more war. Men will sheath the knife
Life will be idyllic, for which hearts have been aching.

Last Millenniums of a Beach Pebble

Rolling in the tides of time,
   the larger rock a pebble now,
Rattle crackles with the others
   in the squirming gravel’s maw.

Up back down - up back down, 
   persistent, insistent waves of the tide of time:
Boisterous thundering; rolling, boiling cannon roar,
   returning calmed in rushing brine.

Pebbles flash dance in sandy froth,
   razzle-dazzle in cross tide ripples,
Mingle there with beaches flotsam
   bright shiny in the sparkling stipple.

Relentless seesaw ebb-tides, sliding grinding
   the pebble to sand in timeless wave labor;
Ground so fine its powder dissolving:
   pebble flesh now sea foam vapor.

                           Eternal flow of lava birth,
                              pebble life resumes on earth.

Orchestration For Planet Change

The Instrumentalists

Percussion: Tectonic plate movement, earthquakes, volcanic eruptions
Strings:        Solar wind and flares, meteor hits, and galaxy intrusion
Reeds:         Polarity arrangement, methane control under the oceans
Brass:          Layered by temperature: air’n water in motion

                                         The Ensemble      

                      Instruments tuned for planet change
                      Compose symphonies in ethereal range:
                      Mystic music for geologic meaning -
                      Melody for cosmic listening.

                      Ages ordered in time pleasing Trinity -
                      On earth in the universe out to eternity.
                      Ice ages in millenniums, cycled through millions:
                      Our years but moments: compare the planet in billions.

                      Human lifespan is varied, in century duration,
                      So we might know our limitations.
                      Natural science is not political science:
                      Human hope is in God reliance.

A Sonnet Pondering

There on a mound a crime today is born
How can you build there with unbridled trust
To this day, citizens from hell can scorn
Preponderance of evidence, shows lust 

Those left behind beneath the grass are lost
Each sentient soul sold to the lot of grief
Left overs are we who now know the cost
Forged over millenniums as wanton thieves 

You are not poisoned, prisoners of deeds
Where each breath is but a reflex taken
Through time we seek out levels for our creed
As clarity finds heaven an awakening 

On a breeze, criminals hang there from trees
With strange ideas of freedom, being free

Knotted

despite some consideration for the hows, whys, wherefores and whether
unguided, wandering through known universe tying things together

aged in millenniums, centuries, decades, days, hours and minutes
each one existing where all things may be true within their own limits

why, oh why have such tribulations of strife and tears befallen us?
does not the wealth of true human knowledge speak to and through all of us?

must we believe that all human foibles are prone to repetition?
beneficial ideologies should improve the human condition

avoiding pretension, apologies create their own disguises
unannounced guest from the past, guilt arrives in many shapes and sizes

we are fragile beings, unsuited to living beyond our planet
prone to greed, prejudice, long lasting grievances and truth's abandonment
often more than willing to turn into our own worst protagonist

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