Orchid rare flower
she renounces the perfume
stays with the beauty!
who renounces
to review its life,
and its destiny,
it's not so simply
a dry riverbed,
a dead stream...
And mainly,
an accepted tarnation,
a immense failure... !
Christ said to his followers gathered around
him," Follow me through my journey,
I can't promise peace but salvation;
the betrayer has already kissed me,
and I am ready to shed my blood
for your sins and give you back Heaven.'
If even an unbeliever instantly renounces
his faith and embraces Christianity,
and he sincerely believes in Jesus
willing to walk with him the rusty roads
and climb steep hills to convert others
who derided him spitting in His face shamelessly:
hasn't he found the true refuge and his mighty throne?
Can anybody break into his home built out of stone?
Christ was the holiest and humblest man,
despite Satan's rage to make him sin;
he surely prevailed sending him back to Hell,
be on the Savior's side and live well.
I’ve been forsaken by the threshold
that renounces me from your arms-
Left barren in an azure existence that
we should be living together as one.
Only the few grains left in our indigo
hourglass can relieve this cruel fear.
It is midnight and I am surrounded
by abandonment as Orion and his
cobalt shield bestows the depth of
the black hole’s infinite darkness.
For the sky is falling and remorse is
calling us…
to ease our debilitated weaknesses.
So, I walk this sapphire universe facing
all the nothingness the gods offer - and -
I am indebted to you for this blue love.
Blue Poetry Contest
Craig Cornish
January 8, 2019
Let leave this uncontented mind
That clings to hate for fear of change
Such pain of sight that keeps me blind
When light to dawn could be as strange
As fear of loss renounces love
So dreams are stilled before their due
My relevance is to rise above
With heart to bravely live life true...
02/21/2017
There's no through road so
with iced courage and steeled breath
She opens each scarlet line,
watching each blank page wave in the wind.
She renounces, orphaning it through self sacrifice and,
through Her crimson puddles,
She sees the barren paths- untrodden-
retreat as the oven scolds the cake inside.
It leeches, and Her skin, the colour of sour milk,
is creaming, each foam washing away the marked gold sand.
It's too late, the clock's already struck and chimed
for the still unborn - stillborn unborn.
Enclosing, the bud swallows the bee,
it's shallow heart fading,
like the bleaching sun drying the caterpillar.
She collapses, clasping, dragging Her burden with Her
His talks seemingly obsolete
His obstinacy tenacious and noisy
He rebukes, he chides, he reprimands
His acts like a performer's repertoire
His renunciations to be jeered upon
He renounces, he chucks in, he relinquishes
It is the monologue man
When a woman first meets a man,
He thinks she's the greatest invention
since sliced ham,
He adores her physical appearance,
The way she talks, laughs and giggles,
He even savors her fragrance,
There is never any talk of space or
room to wiggle,
Once the relationship becomes consummated,
her faults suddenly become illuminated,
The idiosyncracies he used to find charming,
become uncouth and alarming,
He repels her like a magnet,
and ignores her as if she were
an antiquated kitchen cabinet,
After the lust is gone,
a woman becomes an unnecessary
pawn,
The man no longer feels obligated
to be respectful,
All his negative ways get displayed,
He renounces being bashful,
The man picks the woman apart,
like a bird pecking his food,
Then it becomes clear,
his intentions were not good from the start,
He was just toying with her heart.......
If they had told me black
I would have nodded back,
that solemn knowing kind,
in absolutes, you find.
But now they say it's green,
by conjecture and unseen,
a faintly turquoise hue
perhaps will match my yew.
(Full needled in my yard
It’s stubby trunk most hard;
It’s top of oval bloom
renounces Winter’s gloom)
But later then they say
it turns to red someday
and so with stars it goes
with us to old age woes
And so I sit and think
while sipping on my drink
am I a red or green
in someone’s color scheme?
Or do I get to choose
and wager not to lose
of all the reds and greens
in my garden, I have seen
I think I chose my rose
It’s scent across my nose.
Has never failed me yet
so red is what I bet.
And positive death is striking vivaciously
her weakened,shrunk and paralyzed body;
the tiny breath of miraculous life
still persists agains its given time!
Gradma,at ninety-one,you draw the sincere
love of all who surrounded you with obedience;
your ever-beautiful face,although now is pale and bony,
renounces weakness and fear...
refusing to withhold the weakest smile from us,
but still keeps on opening those expressive,blue eyes...
Grandma,you earned the highly
and unique respect of your descendents!
The durable strength and victorious courage
you have shown in crucial times...will influence
whoever is witnessing your atrocious suffering;
and still love keeps on glittering in those
sorrowful eyes that are remembering
the lenght of years you guided them with knowledge!
And positive death is tormenting your feeble body...
and we silently stand by your bed-side,not
murmuring against death,which is the reality of us all,
but we only whisper words and shed tears continously...
while our trembling hands caress tenderly
your long and white hair strealked with light gold!
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