Patriarchs Poems | Examples

Crossroads

Here I stand
Amidst the Crossroads of Life
Abandoned, Worldly Pleasures behind me, Forsaken Crimson Wasteland

Here I Am
Pouring Libations to the Oracle of Truth
Selfish Desires Beyond Me, Rites of the Sacrificial Lamb

Messenger of the Crossroads, I Prostrate Before Thee
Time as a ever Rolling Stream, A Speckled Phantasmagoria
I look forward as my Faith is Sealed, The Shaman's Stone Revealed My Destiny

On my Right
Kindred Patriarchs Hold my Hand
Designate Strength to Avoid Dismay for Eternity
Fortify Me With Sturdy Ideals, May I Stand Upright

On my Left
Nurturing Matriarchs, Soothed, Comforted and Healed
Suckled And Secured, I Yield, Restored am I, Divine Spirit of Purity
Here I Stand Before the Thinning Veil, Maiden of Unbounded Weft.

First Night of Chanukah Blessings

Baruch atah, Adonai 
Eloheinu, Melech haolam, 
asher kid’shanu b’mitzvotav 
v’tsivanu l’hadlik ner 
shel Hanukkah.

Praised are You, Lord 
our God, Ruler of the universe, 
who made us holy through Your commandments 
and commanded us to kindle 
the Chanukah lights.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Praise You Jesus, Lord at thy birth,
Son of God, Love's Pure Light,*
Whose greatest Commandment is to Love,
and Whom John testified is
the Light of the world.**

Blessed are you, Mary,
Queen of our hearts, Mother of Israel's Hope,*** 
who blessed us with your Son to help us be holy,
allowing your home to become like a menorah centered in
Jesus, the Shamash.

Blessed are you, Joseph,
Light of the patriarchs, Foster-father of Jesus,
who taught Jesus (the Son of God!) how to pray,
and who with the Holy Family did kindle
the Chanukah lights.

Blessed are you -- yes you!
A child of God our Father, you are loved!
Contemplate the miracle of Chanukah with the Holy Family,
and Jesus our Shamash kindling in your heart
the Light of the world.




(*Silent Night lyrics
**John 1
***Mother Miriam of the Lamb of God's religious order's title)

Cold Alphabet Soup

abc
the early days when everyone was alive
def
the beats of the hearts that coloured my world with purity
ghi
the candid memories made when All Vibes Are Positive
jkl
the perfect feeling of all seasons when joy was the ultimate trip of the day
mno
the way the earth smiled when the matriarchs were still around
pqr
the way the world felt complete when the patriarchs were doing their job right
stu
the laid back feeling of a full saturday that was so activitous
vwx
the smile of the endless freefall in a little kid's mind
yz
wondering where the now long since lost pieces went to the perfect puzzle

Health Power's Purpose

Octaves of robustly vibrant light
we hear
and see energy's synergy
co-gravitating

Multiculturally co-arising light and power
polyculturally dipolar
insight with resonant energy sounds

PolyEarTheism
sacred integrity's healthy wealth 
enlightening octaves of potential

Fractally eco/theo-logically win/win
within

Mirroring exterior ego/eco-logical
both/and appositional 
double-binary octaves 
of symbiotic integrity

Climaxing healthy wealth
internal cultures of octave listening power
and external climates
of bilaterally speaking healthy light
shedding stressed shade
in unsafe dark disappointment

Even odd Desolation Wilderness
can burn
from overheated capitalism
supported disproportionately
by Straight White Western-Northern 
MonoTheistic Patriarchs

Our mature
adult women
internationally redeveloping indigenous wisdom
Rediscover
uncover revolutionary revelation

All giving birth
empowering
our same integral
enlightening
Whole Open Systemic
cooperative

Revisiting
sacred green minded,
red/blue-bicameral hearted 
NonViolent PeaceWay.

Aging

We must dress
up ourselves
in patience and grace
when we look in
the rearview mirror
at our lives
how things used
to be…

We laugh with our friends
at the memories of
such and such, but
we must surrender
or fall apart to…
aging

In surrendering
we gain a true sense
of self and
an understanding as to
who we really are…

The frivolousness
of the past
lies behind us
in fond memories.
Onward march, we go
for there is much power in the
embodiment…
aging
ahead of us.

We must take our positions
as matriarchs and patriarchs
and as elders
because we have earned it
aging

What Happens When We Die

They say wisdom comes with age
Every day above ground is a new lesson
We look up to the elderly & wise
The Whiteheads and the patriarchs 
For answers to things we don't understand

If man are really this sapient
i call upon the wise and the hoary ones 
For i have a question that troubles me
Can Somebody please tell me
...what happens when we die?

Some say we become angels & fly high
A place of no pain & no cry
With our fallen kins we shall reunite 
All the pain gone & forgotten 
Better dead than alive!
So should we all embrace death?

My chief says we become spirits
A semi-God status we assume
Our children shall worship us
And we shall bless em accordingly 
What if we die with nothing 
What shall we give to our children when they ask?

My uncle believes life is a journey
And Death...the destination!
Every man is obliged to walk the journey:
Yet No one is eager to reach the final stop
Sadly, eventually we all hit the hole
And that's just the end!
Is life really this empty?

After all my question remains unanswered!
Too much speculation...too much fantasy!
Can somebody please just tell me:
What really happens when we die???

Tribute To Holy Scribes

Entrusted with divine oracles
reverberating with “Thus saith the Lord”
of wondrous historical chronicles
proclaimed as “Thy Word”...
you documented sovereign miracles
on scrolls, through frayed, cannot be vanquished by evil sword.

Hence, you are honoured with your diligence
along heavenly vision-iridescence 
to publish the Creator’s statements
not using any pen, but crude scribbling implements.

Inditing* blessed Scriptures
you are ancient writers of spiritual calling
endowed with wisdom of grandfathers' scribe-features
exposing Genesis patriarchs in their faith fulfilling
never under desk lamp but upon the Holy Ghost’s illumining ventures
assured by God’s power, never failing.

Thus, your devotion is commended indeed
by what you’ve done, many souls have been freed
reached with the Almighty’s love and grace
blessed while reading His living Book with trust and praise.

*Psalm 45:1 My heart is inditing a good matter: I speak of the things which I have made touching the king: my tongue is the pen of a ready writer.

July 9, 2020

Sins of Our Fathers

In hindsight
I suspect my dad silently hoped,
secretly conceived,
vicariously needed his dream
I would become a multi-talented musician.

He said, No.
behind my mother's gentle apron
strings of soft-voiced disappointment,
but also hidden within unspoken fear
of Catholic influence
when I was invited to join
The Vienna Boy's Choir.

I was too young.
I would be missed--the farm was an absorbing enterprise.
I wasn't ready.
They weren't ready, yet,
to let go.

But, then offers of guitar
and piano
and trombone lessons,
and choir
and worship music leader
soon followed,
as if from straight white watered
washed
and lied patriots
blessed by prize-giving patriarchs
who listened barely long enough
to hear I was marketably good
as an entertainer,
a professional,
not just another deep soul singer
or deeply soiled male dancer.

Two Destinations

#4
Luke .16:19-31 
‘’Royal’’ Dives revelled while
At his gate sick Pious lay,
Rabid dogs cared for Pious wounds.
Till illness had its way,
He rejoiced with Saints he cheered.

Dives still; with thoughts for none,
Torah rejecting, digging a hole
He died. The ground his body held.
Their ways reversed he felt the heat.
Relationships widened still.

A chasm yawned, ‘Pious’ he called out but,
He sensed the pain but couldn’t help. 
Dives carelessness behind, 
His kin He hoped to notify;  
What hope could be received?

If ‘’One risen from the dead’’ did not
Impress.’’ for those who won’t believe.
Which termini to leave? Which way to go? 
Paradise or Hades, money, possessions! 
If they won’t hear or know the truth, 

Hear & read the patriarchs & prophecies, 
And those you know can fill some space, 

Just choose which way to go,
To continue in the race.

Saint Augustine. 
 “The New is in the Old concealed; 
the Old is in the New revealed.”

Father Marx

He was a herder of many sheep.
Often he whipped his tongue and spared the rod.
He lived for the Lord, for the harvest to reap.
With all his heart and soul, he loved his God.

What words can suffice to send off a soul?
A soul of a priest, a servant of He
Who by words so sacred, words that extol,
He descends from on high for you me.

Gladly he sat in the person of Christ,
Healing souls and forgiving our sins.
Offering what God had sacrificed,
Gaining grace for us to save our skins.

Now gone, he goes to join the patriarchs,
The saints on high. We'll miss you Father Marx

One Home, Many Flags

We are one people,
with one home,
and one flag."
D. J. Trump

Hmmm.
I was with him
right up to the last word,
where I so hoped,
without any realistic expectation,
he would say one "climate"

Waving many diversely colored
polyphonic and polycultural flags
on behalf of health for all species
and against pathology for any ecosystem.

Democrats support WinWin politics
for all polypathic flags
of Earth enhabiting cultures,
where nationalistic elitists,
Plutocrats and entitled patriarchs,
are blinded by their own short-sighted ego-centric flag waving
for secularized wealth,
dualistically devoid of double-boundaried sacred health.

National flags rise and fall,
and still Mother Earth expects an answer
to which one climate we would have become
the fairest of and for us all.

Eternal Shores of Infinity

We came from infinite space,
windblown across everlasting time,
from ocean depths of eternity,
by grace of providence divine,
your reflection's of light's embrace,,
 Our spirits rolled to shores,
from the oceans mighty waves,
into this world's full diversity,
a newcomer born that craves,
children of space, time and stars,,
 Embracing this world's mortal coil,
this challenge we are given,
the foundations we will set,
a force that is driven,
the Honors of lifelong toil,,
 Your dying days mortal old,
Patriarchs that knows their end,
standing before at eternity's shores,
their lifelong Hopes happily transcend,
into light's infinity to hold,,
 Again your spirits will soar,
on the winds across time,
flying again throughout infinite space,
born again by Providence divine,
waves on a new shore.

Oblivion

We were fed, and fattened
 By the millet strewn tales;
 Which swayed like barley in our minds.
 Those wooded bowls of grain
 That spoonfed our souls
 Warmed and filled us
 Until we grew whole.
 But they had foretold;
 The Patriarchs,
 That we’d grow old
 And as we did, we’d forget
 That once we’d eaten, like they had
 And that once, we’d too, tasted oblivion

Ancient Tombs

I say a prayer at a loved ones tomb
 I leave a flower, for in my heart they bloom
 To me they'll always be a treasure
 Never to be forgotten,  ever

 But there is a tomb where treasures abound
 A place where pyramids are found
 King Tut's tomb, where treasures did bloom
 Treasures that the departed did not assume

 The patriarchs of the bible are laid to rest
 In the city of Hebron in Palestine
 Abraham, Isaac, Jacob were blessed
 Their tomb is now a holy shrine
 It is known as the Cave of Machpelah

 There is a tomb where old bones lie
 Unsung in life, but now at rest
 The treasure here is hard to deny
 They gave it all, the ultimate measure
 They'll always be a national treasure
 The Tomb of the unknown  soldier

Morning, Noon, and Night, Delight

Mostly, she had the heebie jeebies, peaking at early risers
Outside, morning was muted with its first faint flush
Right before bristled being, allure of dawn shook her
Noah's voice and patriarchs of old floated by
Imagine those coils; Delilah had come to nip
Night looked on, swelled with pride remorse would rise
God of heaven and earth knew Minerva could be healed.

Nothing moves miraculously as the Almighty
Once she could hear her own obsequy; such living dead
Out on paths of ruin, Minerva ran and ran
Noon's scorcher, and blizzard, and torrents knew she'd show.

Night was of rain and song; of mind cruise to Caribbean hometown
Ideally, one sky light, alone time, and quietude was craved
God of her mother spoke nothing into something
Head lights once broken, beamed, then glowed
That spring; the new millennium sprung fresh light, water, air, and fire.

*

• Short Patriarchs Poems
• Famous Patriarchs Poems
• Best Patriarchs Poems
• Read Patriarchs Poems
• Long Patriarchs Poems
• Patriarchs Quotes