Requesting Poems | Examples

A King Was He

I need some help, I'm requesting,
That I understood, I believe
I was in this hitch of unworthiness
Because life had thrown me a switch.

The dope was nasty and pitiless
Trying to escape this world of hostility.
After what had happened that day
My most sinful fear was yet to come by play.

I wasn't being supportive when, 
I thought I was living in hell
I ask our God for some direction
Because of the brick I had thrown away.

Please show me the lesson, my Lord,
That I am supposed to learn
If he hadn't answered when He did.
I should have burned.

Though I felt a hand on me,
I knew my goal was to be intense
It was all about to be rhapsodized
With this, he was of nobility.

Moored On Brittle Soil

As I lay on mounds of a shoreline, 
weightless in eyes' astounded spirit 
blending with angels, dirt, and crosses; 
my soul bears this emptiness 
in writhing streams omnipresent for day 
and twilight's heavy float-- hours change
beyond primitive instincts--a landscape
of bittersweet cycles appear, and below it, 
the fluidity from incandescent waters lap 
on mouths of frozen stars requesting patience.

Here am i sprouting below, above and under
their flesh; fulfilling my need for deliverance
out of some needled pinch : 
awash by whimper of rain , all senses 
moored and fashioned so lamely
on brittle soil of life unlived ,
seeking a depth of quiet within myself
time rippling upon this decayed shell undersea...

yet nothing came except a leaf falling.

All here shown'

Humble home, or palace known? Scenes
Pass..  somewhere is the tick of clocks; or beat of
Metronome? The rhythm of possibility’s a
Crashing of waves. Some false? much information! we journey through such days.' Endemic plan-demic were you killer? Or
Culler? answers beget questions; each bounce one off the other.' Amidst great
Hunger for peace! Yet much war is feasting on' oh how
The bloodthirsty simper. Their patience is
Strong.' Strong as a kingdom spanning our
Earth.' Yet to be broken.' Upon the coming
New birth ' His agents right now communing' these very
Spiritual hours ' incessantly requesting more wisdom more power.' His angels are
Active many deployed now on earth' legions in heaven move to restrict satanic
Girth.' The wall of eternity grows increasingly thin.' Soon comes Gods Kingdom and the death of all sin' 

©Joe Maverick  25/4/2025

Allegory Of Lazarus And The Rich Man

The ending of your salvation
Is the ending of your life
Like Lazarus he's very poor
He wear sack cloth, he's sick
He only eat the crumbs under the rich man's table
The rich man has all the things in life
He is famous, he's powerful, he's respected
Death is the equalizer of life
Lazarus died, the rich man also died
Lazarus died angel came and bring Lazarus to heaven
The rich man died, for few seconds
He open his eyes and he's in the torment of hell
The rich man made so much request to Abraham
To send Lazarus to send back to Earth and preach to his 5 brothers
The rich man became an Evangelist this time
Requesting somebody must preach repentance to his house
To know avail his request wasn't granted
No more rewinding of life, no turning back my friends
We have given 70 years on Earth
To find that salvation in our life
If you can't, negotiate to Him, pray to God
If you find that salvation, repent and surrender
Sign the covenant and do His will no matter what.

What I Have Written

The words of the governor now says it all.
It appears that, in the governor's heart,
there lies a 'Me Moment' that he cannot escape.
There is so much to be captured from this
historic moment, but I was arrested by this one.

Can you feel the emotions of Governor Pilate
expressed in the frustration that says,
"I have had enough!"? "I have handed over
a faultless man now condemned to die as
the worst of criminals. Enough, I say!"

"Neither I nor the king found fault in him.
I have washed my hands of this man, but I still
feel guilty. And you come to me with your religious
trivialities, requesting that I alter what I have written!
Away from me! What I have written, I have written!"

032725PS

The in-between

I am the unseen titan who stands with a height so vast. I am the bridge, the body, the threshold. In stories tales and film of some dull design. As ones passes leaving behind there shell upon there last touch of comfort opposed to the hands of grief holding on to what must change and evolve as through there perspective of the dead in there most pure and raw form seeing the very ceiling gone as if if never there. Nothing no obstruction no signs of tamper but a wide blue sky in ones raw form climb the invisible ladder, walk the phantom staircase. This escalation to our source, our home is merely a mistake. For I know what's truth for to reach the true gates one must stand upon the shore of beauty where the waves keeping coming back in a sense of requesting your return . walk on the water and progress to the very raw source of our home. For earth is the surface and heaven lies the in the solar system of the North Star the hole breaking through the black wall of space.

The Cry

In disbelief the battle was lost,
what chicanary ,or spells were used,
The Tyrant with a smug smile,decalred what he would now do,
Slavery and possible death now has raised head,
Fear not my peole who survive this onslaught,
though weary and down summon the strength,
look to the oceans ,forests and plains,
there to gather and become as one tribe,
Shout to the oceans requesting help,
from the peoples of the seas with weapons keen,
they will rise like wraiths shadow like mist,
raising their shields and shaking fists,
Come to our aid and set us free,
Shout to the tall trees as they reach high,
bringing down the stormy skies,
washing away the enemies schemes,
Come to our aid and set us free.
Shout to the mountains rugged and strong,
never changing through endless time ,
sending snowy avalanches screaming down,
taking away sorrows and frowns.
Shout to the beings of light that shine,
make gain our land to be yours and mine,
sending avengers of spiritual mien,
expose the dark for what it is,
shallow and self centered full of lies,
blow away the clouds clear the skies,
Come to our aid and set us free.
a.p.mcintyre 8/11/2024.

Glenn Writes for Us

I sent Glenn Hughes a letter
requesting him to write a song
for me and my beloved 

Will he shadow his grace 
amongst us
and drive the tunes to space

I can only imagine
the words we would deliver
and the beautiful tones of his voice 
as he sings of our true love

What better place is there to be
than in the arms of Glenn
and his intellectual masterpieces

Now all I can do is wait
and see if he comes through
but I will be doing more than listening
I’ll be praying for his honor

My love and I listen to Glenn daily
it is our words upon his lips we seek
would he, could he, should he
write for us such a romantic verse

We shall see

My Prayer For Today

My Prayer For Today
Miracle Man
10/15/2024

Before today’s sunrise I awoke feeling blessed,
ready to do bidding with some new day’s test.
In prayer, I ask you, to make me an advancer,
it's me again Lord, seeking from you an answer.
I pray, Lord I’m weak and need your strength,
that I’ll feel your nearness, not at arms length.
That those requesting prayer, I will remember,
both those unknown, and each church member.

Lord, send me to one, whose faith has grown weak,
then give me the words that you’d have me speak.
Increase my faith toward this day’s unknown,
and at my day’s end bless the seed I have sown.
From your given mission I pray I’ve not wavered,
from one who feels blessed, and highly favored.
Amen

Requesting in-kind

If only creation conceived of her sooner
Another name for the Moon might not be lunar
Silken charcoal casts an image upon this sheet
Artistry, as this commission found, is so complete
An evolutionary masterpiece lacking nothing nor insipid
To touch beauty such as this is so euphorically intrepid
Were I given by a djinn wishes thrice
I would invest two in kissing she once, then twice
The third; if only for a moment, requesting in-kind
If somewhere within her; my Valentine, she'd find

Poetry

We read each other’s minds
daily well into the night
and all over again

you kiss your fingers 
choosing words carefully 
before you touch the keys

as if they will reach me

your silent lips 
kiss your finger tips
before they touch the keys

before they will ever touch me

channels 
turned on, 
signals of insanity 

parallels of invisibility 

waiting for the touch 
waiting for the feel 
morse code 

requesting braille

poetry 



Candide Diderot. ‘24 




“Her”. Rosenfeld.

When Horses Come

This poem is CUBE16 which is a form I created several years ago. The poem is based on a scripture verse. 
 
If thou hast run with the footmen, and they have wearied thee, then how canst thou contend with horses?  Jeremiah 12:5 

Today seems hard
as chaos reigns.
Both fears and doubts 
forge breakproof chains.

A time will come 
when men will fear,
as danger lurks
and rushes near.

Travail draws close
and doubts beset,
as hearts perceive
a mortal threat.

Today perceives
that fearful time.
Approaching soon,
when dread will climb.

What shall we do?
What can we say?
We hope the fear 
will rush away.

A look around
appeases not.
We covet cool,
but times are hot.

In Gilead 
resides a balm,
remembering 
delivers calm.

I call on God
requesting strength.
He steels my heart;
width, breadth, and length.

Grey Angel

In the woods lurks the grey angel;
Wingless and disillusioned, he awaits
The onset of diarrhoea,
Bismarck’s jocular displeasure
And the seagull’s lugubrious weightlessness –
Later than previously, he erects
A flag made of wormwood
Brought all the way
From the ceiling of an underground café in East Berlin -
He sighs….and it is like someone playing
A musical saw: it expresses harmoniously
His perpendicular musical soul –
Expecting nothing, he is perpetually disappointed
By the visitations of crones desirous of petty miracles,
Of repentant tax-gatherers requesting absolution,
On New-Age moongazers seeking enlightenment,
Of people who desire certainty, answers,
Of people who pursue truth and self-righteousness,
Of people who just want to see what an angel,
Any angel looks like. Only these curious rubbernecks
Touch his bland and ironic soul with a faint luminosity –
Their enthusiasm for life, if crass and tawdry,
At least provides the salt which otherwise
Has lost its flavour….a pity
That it just rubs salt into his wounds.

World of Love

Written: November 20, 2023, For Joseph May Contest
          ________________________________________________

How pointless to fight for global friendship.
We scatter sand, catch the wind, and waste life.
We could gain a faint peak or bright red ship.
We slide further as shades withdraw the strife.

Despite our confusion, we hound our quest.
The sound venture perseveres to renew.
Nonetheless, the grave gateway is behest.
We grunt a hive to our shock to pursue. 

Yet whose charitable tide is smoothing?
Is akin to the vast, unknown ocean.
Deep into our souls, your love is soothing.
That would be requesting your direction.

You are being heard, your palm is raised wide.
Who would be keen on an erroneous guide?

Supply and Demand

                            supply 
                  ample, abundant
     issuing, procuring, replenishing
surplus, provision, necessity, upsurge
     requesting, expecting, satisfying 
                   desired, requisite 
                           demand

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