The clandestine creep
Started with a grandiloquent speech
And his surreptitious subterfuge
Has everyone confused
He said "Now grapple with the apple"
He said "has God really said"
Did God really mean that if you eat of it
You will end up dead?
The clandestine creep
Is after Jesus’ sheep
And His hands will reap
And He will forever keep
He attempts to rival God
Even walked where God trod
He attempts to corrupt things everywhere
He is the prince of the power of the air
Once the anointed luminary
Once light, until he was found contrary
Parading as an angel (as one of the guise)
To gain converts for the lord of the flies
Not as an aesthete, he steals
Instead of enjoying what God reveals
He realizes as bell’s knells, as the bell peals
He’s an A.I. of God that never kneels
An artificial insubordinate (A.I.)
Unfortunately, you are real
You’re the Godzilla to mankind
With our blunders we must deal
Mellow mantras,
daub my ear,
with rapt sultry
opal peals,
whilst entwining,
seamless sheath,
of aural vista,
whose magic wand,
sedates yet enthusiast,
of this morning nomad,
whose quixotic quill,
aches for ardent dawn,
to tranquilize meandering,
muse off target,
focus on,
aurora spectrum,
day-peep pageant,
of pristine pink,
demure aligned,
sun horizon hover,
gliding gold wisps,
fleeting blue ray,
chimera or mood swing,
dalliance of dust grain,
as I allude to,
gleaming dewdrops,
In lofty lyric,
prompt from,
green leaf rustle,
or grey twig tweak,
silver stream murmur,
moist babble of,
hushed hints,
rush and ripple,
froth rimmed swirl,
vapour vortices visceral,
whet my creative juice,
from lucent pools,
can I imagine,
wondrous tactile trails
I've seen Chaplin in movie reels,
my laughter spilling out in peals,
but cats usually prowl on paws,
and the funniest thing I ever saw
was one on whitewall wheels.
Laughter peals and at the same time heals
Cats romp with their usual pomp and chase
Each other with their tails swirling and whirling
Kids run and play and enjoy the sunny day
The shadows bend and mock and the sun shines and
Bounces shapes from one side to the other
While the ringing squeals and peals of laughter
And screams of delight pepper the air with light
And the day becomes a giggle fest and the birds watch
From their nests, content to be alive on a spring day
With the world at play
From the very depths of my inner being I cherish Poetry Soup,
without the written verse I’d be impoverished as a person,
literary projects spur me on to otherworldy epic peaks,
an open channel with furtherance from lexicons endowed,
golden opportunity for human pathos rich and fair,
stomach-wrenching pain, joyous peals of laughter, mental stimulus,
visions I adhere to have a wider world impetus,
the comity of fellow authors and their honest feedback,
diplomatic goodwill hint at barren lapse within my canon,
and gracious honeyed Bon Mot of peer group kudos on occasions,
that angst-ridden moment before a contest sponsor judgement,
bold gasp of relief at higher placement than expected,
or just as likely glum expression at the baleful NA,
in support a staunch muse Jay A Pallen sheds her light,
loyal and demonstrative sister, whose sparkling eyes ooze warmth,
sagacious councillor supreme, bestowing love on this bard and their ardent stanza,
who brought to my attention bewitching vistas waiting to be captured,
influencer of my first ever piece “Downward Plod,”
where this writer’s magic life-enhancing odyssey began,
how I cherish every moment spent on Poetry Soup
The fog stumbles in on fingers of gray,
A surly bell peals to escape the day.
The gas lamp turned with a squeaking sound,
On the stony bluffs, a spirit is found.
A watcher lingers who cannot sleep,
For essences lost in the endless deep.
His abandoning light is not for ships,
Albeit for the rumored, ancient lips.
Their nippy sighs upon the breeze,
A bleak comfort, if you please.
So keep your distance from the shore,
And do not knock upon the lighthouse door.
hiking through fjord
knees stumble on dark weeds
church gong peals
#Life
Tour of trials and hostility, in this cave, life capture's my soul, hell prey's for my flesh, indoctrination waits in ambush for my mental GPS. With this God DIY tools, equiped to unearth parth's long consumed by creation and evolution...
from four cardinals of earth, horns of wisdom positions distressed and discareded abilities of mother nature. Waterfall's bearing rebirth, cleansing drained long extinct men conscience...
from under earth plates, smokes with insence, awakening purities long ingraved in packages of human descendency to life. Hijacked dreams and hopes of child's maps of earth, peals from bondages of captivity and brainwash...
The world, for the first time, wows and collides with rage, for denied and amputated abilities, that earth stole from genesis. Rise of greatness, beyond wisdom and intelligency, degenaration in every hole and pores of earth and men, here and there pillars of change, marking the begining of magnitude.
#Poetic_Ink
Heat, like fog, engulfs the environment.
Flora and fauna burn in the sunbeams.
Clamminess-filled vapor goes virulent.
Mirages glimmer like unending streams.
Tempests brimming with dust and debris blow.
Unquenchably thirsty, the parched lands crack.
With abstract sky paintings, dry evenings glow.
Thunder peals, on and off, like an earthquake.
Days taunt. Nights haunt. We burn in the furnace.
Sleeplessness and nightmares pervade our nights.
Flies and reptiles perform a crude circus.
Heat climbs the atmosphere's immodest heights.
With the nomadic breeze, black clouds elope.
Timely drizzles, yet, try to bring some hope.
From the pleasure of your soul, I glow
Through starlight... a kiss, my gaze can't forego
And dawn approaches upon us to bring
Soft caress of air into me shall blow
'The darkened skies stole my tears'...to you, I cling.
Chorus:
Dearest , somehow my fervent life you hold
Breathless as my heart beguiled... takes a leap,
Then tame me now, let all demands unfold
Tame me now within an affection deep.
~
There are no longer tears, we wander sweet,
Enchanting our eve its heavenly treat--
That pulses heat when charmed laughter peals
Warmer a slow dance, my yearning complete
Tender the gaze, the kiss… our joys replete.
4th place
With limp thunder
came silent still-born rain.
Sky broke,
clouds chose
to play apart today,
as the gray clad stand-ins
in blue duffel coats,
and snow white hoods
slunk away, to fade away,
like peals of bells
fade when echoes fail
to surface on
soft absorbent
compliant surfaces.
Black clouds like the thunder
missed the role-call.
Remained waiting
in the bleachers
for someone
to applaud,
to gee-up
the thunder with claps,
to raise a curtain call.
To giddy-up, giddy-up
the mighty steed Thunder,
to do its
clippety-clop, clippety-clop thing.
to do its
rumble, rattle and roll,
with steely shod and shiny
hooves on cobble stones.
Sometimes my dear steed Thunder,
led along on its reins and bridle,
enters the storm unmounted,
hushed to neigh forlorn,
in gray clouds,
in sky-blue skies.
If deeply calls a bard for epic muse,
like newborn lambs that crave their mother's milk;
if feet that lightly trip along with shoes
of Mercury whose message speeds, like silk,
with lightning's sudden flash and peals of thunder;
if fate told jokes, regaled with humor's laugh,
then life, Greek tragedy, with comic blunder,
mocks man's pride, hubris, ego, using his gaffes
(with bathos). But high drama's theatric peak's
for bards and Elizabethan playwrights
who, like seers, see with vision, craft unique,
wond'rous, and grandiose plots of lofty heights!
But to give up this dream that seems sublime,
I'd wish for, still, love, children, peace, and time.
Magnifying the Lord
in language transcended
rising to heaven
a thank offering-
Christ my shepherd
Christ my light
Christ my peace
love peals aloud
healing for the broken-hearted
liberty to the captive
New life to those who believe
Lithesome steps lead me to an ancient
temple
Perched across a bay, weeds and
hyacinths curl between my feet,
Where mist refills bowl of cotton clouds
As rustling breeze ascends on skyline's ladder.
In stillness, I lounge on the pew to whisper unsaid psalmic devotions
for a world which aches for calmer
retreat--
That I reach a peak where the mind
becomes absent--
Then I hear them , a medley of peals
Lifting me higher in regulated tempo from gong
rhythms,
A music swelling in warm temperance Until warm kiln of light and radiant
fireflies stir my kundalini.
On this treasured moment, a sentient
energy
Cleanses my beingness from past sins -- mortal and venial-
That I listen to the clang of my inner child's soft echoes entering my veins:
Somewhere in blank spaces, bells swing of
innocent laughter...a treble,
a clap
bringing me to the kindness of youth,
And my body stays quiet, welcoming this rite of
passage on days when the spirit calls for an
interlude's break...a meditative
connection with
the self--
without the need to speak.
after the storm the sky sighs
relieved the rage has expired
with a rolling fade rumble
all is quelled to quietude
after rain a damp dank shroud
covers the earth utterly
enveloping everything
in slimy glint of wetness
after the lightning is sheathed
the earth is spared more sharp stabs
and brutal bang afterthoughts
in rolling peals of thunder
then the dark clouds sneak away
ashamed for temper tantrums
that spoiled what otherwise was
a perfect hot summer's day
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.