Blessed to be part of God's open-theatre
But a weather whiplash created a havoc
My innocent joy evaporated
My lean body quivered by the violent winds
Pitter! Patter! It started pouring down
The winds added fuel to the storm
Sturdy trees prostrated on the ground
Accepting their defeat in the duel
It flooded all over submerging me
Luckily, the flow took a quick diversion
By dawn, the level dropped down to my neck
And I could see the limpid firmament
Noticed a ray like a sharp needle
Came out penetrating the stretched blue denim
Over the moon! I was spellbound by sunlight!
Place: 3 rd
Oh, I wrote it for the glory
Now I’m feeling kinda whorey
For again I came up short
She got half of what she sought
For the pens of others reign
From the Jordan to the Seine
While mine at last report
Just cut against the grain
But I wrote it for the glory
My sadly pensive story
Full of lies and sweet deceit
Prostrated at your feet
For the rules so boldly flaunted
Resound like empty houses – haunted
As the scratching of my pen
Makes Shakespeare spin again
So, if you write just for the glory
The outcome may be oh so gory
If those fifteen lines of verse
Went from somewhat bad – to worse
I went to unpleasant places
where there was no mention,
or even a clear defination
of the Holy of the Holies!
Those unholy places were dens
of fornicators who condoned
anything immoral and naughty,
many youngsters became victims
being bought for pleasures;
there all sinners practiced
what was against morality...
nobody was sinless and kind!
I went to unpleasant places,
where they chanted hymns
to Hadan and sacrificed a life
on a blood-dripping altar;
that scene made me run far,
thinking I'd be the next to die!
Youthful Eros was worshipped
and at his feet they prostrated,
then they danced around him;
he had manacing eyes so grim!
" Hey, come closer, join the feast! "
They shouted, " God doesn't exist! "
I went to unpleasant places,
to a town distant from the living;
there anything was allowed
to amoral gals and fellows escaping
the harsh judgement of others,
or being lynched by the crowd!
I'm one of these billions out there
hallucinating wanting to be happy
we can't get away from it
the sun pulls us out of bed to fight
until the moon knocks us down to dream again
with the success of the crop
daughter's wedding
the new job at work
vacation
a happiness carved by TV
my dog looks at me disconsolately
he knows I don't smile anymore
yesterday a new flu hit me
now on my cell phone
drug advertisements pop up
things seem unreachable
prostrated on the couch
I hear the cicada that lives in the tree next door
she is happy singing all the time
this is an evil thought
but I'm absolutely sure
that if you put a bigger brain in her head
she would be depressed like us.
He was reclining cold and motionless
Silence reigned as it signalled a torment
I prostrated and remained quiet, wordless
My mother's elegy evoked lament.
As the days passed, he started deforming
Lifeless body lay hardened but mounted,
To the neighbours gathered, went informing
Of the subtlety of very life, bewitched.
Kinsfolk followed you till crematorium
With prayers of praise in warm condolence
Soul shall find solace with honorarium
Through your religious deeds in governance
As the bodily disappearance calls,
Just flash of fiery ignition that brawls.
©?????Khachab Dorji????
Gaia, the favourite Empress of the Emperor Sun,
The true definition of beauty,
Elevated above all else, none other could compare,
She wore a crown that placed her beyond others,
Richer than all her compeers,
Only she had the power to give life,
So fertile that everything she touched prospered,
But she let this get to her head,
So she turned away from the Sun,
They say pride comes before a fall,
And surely she was, proud as a peacock,
So darkness befell her glorious face,
Plagues, famine, drought, and wildfires disfigured her skin,
And slowly, she began to lose her most prised possession,
The gift of life,
This brought her to her knees,
So she embarked on a journey, her very own Odyssey,
This was not a revolution,
This was a path to redemption,
This was the path of restoration,
So she prostrated herself with frustration,
She wept and begged for mercy, for forgiveness,
And the Sun heard her lamentations,
And she found favour in His eyes,
And it forever shall be remembered,
That the merciful King heard the cry of His beloved and answered.
It was pouring, nightfall o'er the wet streets,
On a bike we rode, hurry to go home
The road was muddy, street lights hazy, blind
Pitch black all around where our eyes would meet
A sudden break! Crashed and skid over a stone
Numb mind...
My hands and legs were grazed, me prostrated,
The tire over my left leg, silhouette outlined;
People rushing o'er as the wide moon shone,
My jeans and shirt had been torn, and naked
I pined..
7/11/20
The Speaker Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Sara Kendrick
P rayer is my posture —
R elegating all to Him.
A men from Alpha to Omega.
Y our mind, movement and mouth,
E ver prostrated, as He lifts you up.
R emembering you, you and you in prayer…
9/4/2019
Waltzing around carelessly, trampling through the golden daisies, oblivious to the coiled up snakes, violently hissing.Blindly shadowing a group of prepossessing wolves, with their lustrous coats gleaming a snowy white. Sashaying along a busy highway, head down, eyes closed.
You don't know where your traveling, you don't know what your achieving, you are stricken with grief, prostrated on the ground. Now, you mindlessly stumble around, no longer transfixed by trepidation. Mindlessly staggering away, forever scarred, forever branded. You are perpetually senseless, stuck in a cycle of forlornness, where you cannot abscond, trapped in a feeling of depression.
I’m a man whose tired and worn
Empty and dead on my feet,
Petered out, played out, pooped and torn
Burn out, broke down and beat.
Drowsy, droopy, drooping drained
Dog tired, done in, done for,
Exasperated, enervated empty faint
Overtaxed, overworked and bored
Sick of, sleepy, spent and stale
Haggard, run down, all in
Consumed, collapsing, asleep, annoyed
Exhausted, bygone and barren
Ramshackle, rickety, run-down and frail
Bedraggled, broken-down and creaky
Threadbare, tottering, tired and used
Feeble, fragile and flimsy
Out of shape, out of gas, done in and feeble
Gone to seed, soft, incapacitated
Listless, washed out, weakened, on the ropes
Undermined, fatigued, prostrated.
Discontented, dissatisfied, tacky and dull
Jaded, glum and gloomy
Sick and tired, up to here, driveling, drab
Sated, down and weary
Befuddled, unsteady, wobbly and faint
Pallid, pale and lean
Stupefied, staggering, slaphappy, subdued
Oh damn I got to go pee.
The love of a mother is so strong,
not to be compared to anything else.
She prostrated to the ground
sobbing,
trying to swallow the bitter truth
of her only child,Annette.
Within her Arms she held her tightly,
and in her eyes you could see
pain,sorrow and emptiness
of a mother losing her only child.
a cold stone bears his name
grief pours onto his green plot
prostrated mom shouts "why?"
He hath become religious of late
prostrated before the virgin Mary
Cornflower blues blown to wild violets
and thin lines puckering in concentration
Prayers spilling in loud sputters from his mouth
She hath listened a time or two
to testimonies led by callused hands
Run lukewarm holy water upon him
Coaxing gentle promises from cold maidens
candlelight vigils by the goose feather altar
Ordered 10 Hail Marys, and 5 Our fathers
and she bled for both of their sins
A story to tell
A story that never been told,
Not new though, neither old,
A bout treasure of pure Gold,
Nicely kept, beautifully hold,
Wrapped in a blessed shroud,
Not to be found by digging!
Only by prayers to the Lord.
*****
The old man is determined,
But, no signs yet, no traces,
Distressed, wet and cold,
He didn’t stop, refrain or hold,
Hope kept him firm and bold,
Hope will lead him to his bond.
*****
One day he struck luck!
He struck the concealed, hidden gold,
He shouted… O’ my generous Lord,
It is my girl; it is my soul, my fond,
O’ Goodness,
She is glittering more than Gold,
With happiness inside,
He prostrated to God and bowed.
Centuries of lies, a hollow myth
Perpetuated by charlatans with great ceremony
The Greatest Show, the living bread
The crowd sustained and animated by necromancy
The will is fused, the body dismembered and reassembled
Eager dehumanization, they tread the path
An ancient instinct, hereditary chains
Lift the chalice, a cannibal rite
Commit the body to the fires
They burn all sin to purest white
Like bones they glisten in the sun
The heart is woman, a harlot's course
Chaos bound to ritual law
A book to strangle, the human vine
Withered fruit, none shall eat
A brittle parody of True God's design
The Word of sufferance, spread like plague
Prostrated before your False God
An empty gesture before his impassive gaze
Power channels, below the surface
Christian mind cannot detect
Stabbing empty, fever pitch
Turn the blade, release is now.
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.