If I were a bird love would be my wings
My flock would be of hip hop
Allow me to cruise sky blue white streams
Without fear of flying treetops
And oh the blackbird songs I prophetically sing
Would I sing just as lovers do
Mating season is never in winter time
Yet frostbitten love warms a fool
Romantic rendezvous red as fine wine
Love peaks primes we win and lose
If I was a cave would you explore
All my dark places to find peace
Would you have amber hope for
Love inside of both of us deep
What do you dream of amour
If I was a dream I would be odd
Feverish romantic and enchanting
I would feel like holy love of God
With all souls delighted dancing
We would see the heavens and stars
Alas I am but a human poet
Using my heart as a green vase
If I didn’t say would you know it
Love is my garden and faith
plants the seeds of eternity hope is.
A crinkled shore on the Upper Peninsula.
We are hunting Golden Eagles.
Cameras fully loaded.
You find a small stone,
on it, a crimp and cockle
of wind and waves
has rucked an impression
of an eagle in flight.
“It's only ripple art, not even
a good depiction,
just water-wear. “
I say.
You throw it back into Lake Huron,
won’t hold my hand,
won’t even look at me,
until I admit the possibility
of prophetically placed crinkles.
If I were a bird love would be my wings
My flock would be of hip hop
Allow me to cruise sky blue white streams
Without fear of flying treetops
And oh the blackbird songs I prophetically sing
Would I sing just as lovers do
Mating season is never in winter time
Yet frostbitten love warms a fool
Romantic rendezvous red as fine wine
Love peaks primes we win and lose
If I was a cave would you explore
All my dark places to find peace
Would you have amber hope for
Love inside of both of us deep
What do you dream of amour
If I was a dream I would be odd
Feverish romantic and enchanting
I would feel like holy love of God
With all souls delighted dancing
We would see the heavens and stars
Alas I am but a human poet
Using my heart as a green vase
If I didn’t say would you know it
Love is my garden and faith
plants the seeds of eternity hope is
Prophetically contextual
—internally Divine
(Dreamsleep: July, 2021)
Prophetically sorrowful
A nightmare of a dream
247 passengers inside
No survivors
Broken Wings of a 747
One sad night
Powerfully Invasive
The night the faeries died
Assault rifles issued to the brownies
Who decimated their broken wings
Taking their powers, and then taking them hostage
Sad faeries, hostage wives
A Lakota Sioux Elder
once prophetically said…
“We will be known forever
by the tracks we leave behind”
That wisdom now marking
a trail of tears
—any hope still yet to find
(Villanova Pennsylvania: March, 2019)
There have never been a day
as dark as yours
There have never been a night
as sleepless as yours
Let those who mourn mourn aloud
For this is a time to cry
Let those who weep weep aloud
Till their voice are dried
I heard some strangers killed your sons
I heard your daughters are been raped
I heard they've blackened your suns
And left you in a sticky mud of pain
I heard your husbands did not return
Since they went to their farms
I heard your wives were been stabbed
Trying to save their own yams
I heard you died for cows to live
Conjugated into a shell of death
I heard for a single cow's head
Nine or ten of you go down the earth
Yet I heard your were beaten by a stick
I wonder what stick it could be
Oh! its the new herdsmen sticks
That has bullets in it
Curse be the strangers that killed you
Prophetically I speak
Why have they chosen to kill you
Rhetorically it seems
Pacific, pacifist pampered papa
parading par excellent paragon
parent (parenthetically parochial
particularly partisan) parvenu
passive, passionately paternalistically patient,
paunchy, peaceably pepped, perfectionist,
perceptive, perennially perky, permissively
persevering, persistently personable, perspicuous,
pertinent, phenomenally philanthropic, philharmonic
picturesquely pious, pioneering, piquantly pithy,
playfully pleasant, pleasurably plucky, plummy,
poetically poignant, politely pontificating, popular,
positively potent, powerfully practiced pragmatist,
praiseworthy, prayerfully precious, precise
predominant, preeminently preferable, preparedly
preponderant, presently president, prestigiously
prevailing, priceless, princely, principally pristine,
privately privileged, prized, proactively procreative,
prodigiously productive, proficiently profitable,
progressively prominant, promisingly prompt,
prophetically propitious, prospectively protective,
proudly proven provocative, prudent psyched, puissant,
punctilious, punctually purposeful.
SOYLENT FUTURE
Always left to pick up your pieces
HAIR AS FIRE
Words fly like lead
Stares sharper than switchblades
And when did you end up dead?
Where did I lose you? When did I become a liar?
Laying in screaming
Grass blades
Blood drains but oxygen increases
And the opposite of death happens instead
A birth, a creation to bemire
My shattered remains is spread into thousands of pieces
Over hundreds of miles - then eaten.
A live grenade – an exposed wire
Preach your doom, spread your dread
Soylent rot once disposed
Landfills, cementary piles
Now ignorantly fed.
Soylent Green
Prophetically showed
Humanity is leading to cannibalism
Fooled to feast on our own.
End.
Dec. 29th 2014
Lyricist phenomenally prophetically poeticizing
rIghteous writing sung into my spirit
so Zealous zeal again connected the acrostic dots and filled
my rAising praising pen toward her
she's Gorgeous and gifted
real tAlented too
she's buRst a boombastic bloombloosoming acrostic poetic blood vessel in my brain
poeticiZing prophetically phenomenally shooting the shout of poetry
the vibrAting vice versus visions, collaspsing, reviving revelation spoke in word tongues
flowing singing shouting verses in my veins.
…SO INDECISIVE…
He is at the back of the row
His mind at the front row
It is his choice and decision to give
Yet, he made it his choice to leave
He got it all wealth
He said it’s his sweat
With his wallet tied to his belt
Won’t give, that’s what he meant
The indecisive Millionaire.
She said she’s beautiful
Don’t in anyway mind flaunting it sinful
Hers is a body for a feast
But she gave it all to a beast
Not Cinderella but she got many glass shoes
A prince charming is hers to choose
She got it intact so placed
Am I or am I not to give in
The indecisive damsel
This is knowledge at its peak
It’s in his blood from back ages
This is his destiny to squarely face
To pass the knowledge he got round
As it was prophetically so bound
It’s in my head he rudely said
Not a blessing, as all think to vain
I will teach my descendants he thought
No; it’s for me alone he so hard fought
The indecisive genius.
Dedicated to all who lacks sense of charity.
…Lordvip…
Touch me in the mettled heart of faith tenderly
Hear my prayers rise in praise, and emptied to kneel
Eternal God, before thy grace. What echoes now in me?
Power beseaching with sin blistered tongue for glory
Raft of mercy on angel wings lifted making the story
Atonement gifted merging tension and compassion
Yearning prophetically for historic provisions made
Embrace of grace and faith with love's wide submission
Remembering hope is unwatered flower that does not fade
Dearest Father,
Some are still drinking the milk, sorry for bothering you with this letter and prose.
You see into the future, but still made a baby in a womb of a lady being left behind?
Now why would you do such a thing? tsk tsk...I mean you are only the God of the
earth and nothing you do should be questioned? The bible says you take your own
revenge..
Ahh
You saw the abortion happening anyway, but put it in the womb just the same?
Ahh
Yes I see this prophetically and through holy spirit, a revenge tactic on the one to
remain?
Ah
Well not many will understand your revenge tactics and question the most Holiest of
beings as to why you would do such a thing...
Me on the other hand understand all your methods God because I am not drinking
milk.
Love Me...your forever Mystic and Great supporter!
there is a subtle reason
youth entitles itself to treason
with the ever-changing faces
in slowly shifting places
the wind blows prophetically
from a land that once was free
however is no longer
On the pool is the glimmer
the transcendental swimmer
hiding in the clouds
blocking out the sun
run and tell your father
we've finally found his gun
It all started when Mr. Pie was a little bugger,
Just a wisp of fluff in the palm of your hand.
"Oh, isn't mama's little man the most handsomest EVER?!"
Not a day has gone by when he has argued that point!
"Be careful with all that encouragement" I prophetically warned,
"It may go straight to his head!!"....and what a head it became!!
Grey, dignified, regal....a lions mane with white marbling.
2 golden eyes piercing you with that casually bored stare one may give to one's shoes.
Every morning at 8 am and every night at 10 pm he demonstrates his knowledge of time.
Head-butting the door and SCREAMING the words "MOM!!!
MAAAWWWMMMM!!......NOW???!!???.........MOM??? NOWWWWW??" (for real!!)
Needless to say, he's got us trained pretty well,
But we're still working on house-breaking me!!!!!
He still has yet to teach us PROPER portion control,
And I get the impression I'm not so popular when I give less than expected.
Maybe it's the "Death-threat" stare, or maybe the Kitty Log in my slippers, I don't know!
All I can tell you is don't EVER make the mistake of addressing him as a "cat"
Or you may come to know the justice of King Pie, The Terrible........just a warning!!
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.