Through my unending vision,
I look in her eyes to find
pinks and reds blossom to life
on the bed-sheet of roses that
she, herself had woven by
tiny threads of the vivid art
her soul couldn’t express,
but all her heart goes to
a rose shrinking in a corner-
A flower deprived of water and sun
had been longing for too long to
belong somewhere or to someone…
On her face the portrayal:
Was undeserved betrayal:
While resting in mortuary;
Later in her obituary.
But her photo had come first:
A scream-it-to-The World thirst.
But I have my own challenge:
What would finding a thing change?
Lies that could break a strong heart:
She’d shoplifted in a mart?
Or whisper desultory
Alleging adultery
“Man had been a betrayer,
Her face ‘not First Soothsayer…”
“The Man,” Bruce Marciano is indeed blest
with reaching-out roles midst spiritual zest
encounter* sublime
cautious of jest chime
portraying Jesus Christ along grace** best.
*“First aired on October 21, 2016, ‘The Encounter’ is an American television series with a Christian theme that ran the first season in 2016 and returned in 2020 with a second season.”
**2Thessalonians 1:12 That the name of our Lord Jesus Christ may be glorified in you, and ye in him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ.
April 11, 2022
poetry
p o r t r a y s
prayer
In Just a Few Words 2 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Joseph May
July 13, 2021
The hands of any architect could never create such an elegant craft.
Perfection was carefully embedded into her soul;
something no man could ever define or construct.
Her lovely display will never have been portrayed on paper;
No artist could ever discover a canvas
adequate enough to lay down her masterpiece
or even begin tracing her silhouette.
Hoping one could endure her unexplainable disposition
is like hoping there are angels in heaven.
Every tune and melodious melody dwelling within her thoughts
will never be recreated by the worlds most clever musician.
The harmony in her voice
draws a sense of companionship with any audience;
Perhaps there are a thousand symphonies
in every syllable she speaks.
But a poet..
A poet could describe her good character with the ink
that holds his desperate motive;
Simply appreciating her soul with the words he'd written,
that would soon follow him into his dreams.
My last wish to the night sky;
To join your portrayal amongst the stars.
My mind meanders into your luminescent epitome,
For which I shall grow weary
before accompanying soon after the sun sets,
and summer fire flies will make their way to my delight,
capturing deliberate flashes of green
when I am not able to see it in your eyes.
But the night holds your glitter and glamour;
A rare sense of alluring companionship from so far away
which writes my final regards to the stars;
None other than a congenial "thank you,"
for the pale moon light may dim the beauty beneath your makeup,
but distance gives way to satisfaction as the fire flies return
and you are portrayed soon amongst the stars.
Sitting with the moon ablaze once again.
Dark, Lonely, Awkward Silence.
Thoughts racing rapidly throughout my head.
Time ticks away as my heart beats faster.
Alone and scared for the future.
The Hypocritical society is faced with no escape.
Money will always be a key to ones downfall.
The root of all evil.
The crisis in ones family.
A motive to lead to overall brainwash, and abolition.
Simplicity is God's gift.
The little things that surround are everyday eye.
Finest beauty and candor located in nature.
The colors that are filled up from within.
Appreciate the beats that your heart pushes forth.
Life is to extensive to measure.
Arise the sun from the east lays astray.
As once forth another day progresses
Life is portrayed as nonexistence cherished climax.
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