Rids Poems | Examples

When the moon shines

When the moon shines in the East
And all the white doves have been released
A young child will sleep in restful peace

When they've closed Hell's open door
And put an end to every single war
He won't have to worry any more

When they plant the fields in seed
And mankind rids itself of all greed
Then he will have nothing more to need

When freedom's the final song
And whose words have righted ev'ry wrong
His young soul will soar forever on

When the moon shines in the East
And all the white doves have been released
A young child will sleep in restful peace

Listen

There is a story in her eyes
Listen to her, before she dies
past dreary storms of pain and loss
her soul’s been made whole by His cross

there is a time for gentle words
timeless truths serenade like birds
listen to how the sea can toss
her soul’s been made whole by His cross

there is light in her life and times
her heart a poem that still rhymes
her eyes shine with such sparkling gloss
her soul’s been made whole by His cross

There is a beauty in her tears
Despite so many fears and years
she still kneels before her true boss
her soul’s been made whole by His cross

there’s music that my soul can hear
in her eyes, there’s joy so sincere
He rids her of darkness and dross
her soul’s been made whole by His cross

Right Now

I’m not happy nor healthy in my mind right now
It’s clouded and bleak
Not knowing which direction
Not knowing what l seek

Can’t sleep , forever tired
No interest “to ever do”
No motivation nor energy 
Turmoiled mind and soul ,feeling blue

The flame that burns within me
No longer burns bright
Desperately struggling
Just to stay alight

I cannot  see that light at the end of the tunnel
Nor a lighthouse to guide my way
I just want to close my eyes right now
Until clarity, rationale and time rids my minds disarray

The Pursuit of Contentment -POTD

Whatever the offerings of time may bring
Whatever song my heart chooses to sing
On life’s small pursuit I shall meditate
Elysian splendor around me, I appreciate
The simplicities of pastoral living unfurl
I’m graced in your stellar light, a cosmic pearl
Serene contemplation, moments well spent
A transcend of intellect, I pursue contentment
Humbled, a mochila drapes my shoulders 
Now weightless, old tomes heavy as boulders
Once laden with Maslow's hierarchy of needs
The cause of sight itself as Plato laid the seeds
Streets of an unclean soulless city no more 
Once blemished and ugly as a repellant eyesore
Until this vacant shell had found release,
acceptance paralleled an inner peace
A new perspective can only see the beauty
of the craftsmanship and the ingenuity 
On this celestial hike I embrace “carpe diem”
A lesson learned in this hour spans a millennium
The power and value of each moment 
however brief, I walk along as an exponent                     
Unfurling love that rids me of my emptiness
Colloquially speaking I have found happiness

By the Brilliant Sea

The grave is outgrown,

replaced by pastel pink -

changing rooms and hearty laughter;

Her eyes gleaming -

w/ joyful abandon,

w/ towel in hand, She sweeps back

Her slick, golden tresses,

and rids them of the waves

and rids them of the world.

Sobriety

Mesmerized by silence
the maiden sips the chalice 
dipping drink in pilonce
entertaining life without malice
indulgence fills the music
into the cup she holds
sifted in sobriety dousing with fluid
til the limitless path unfolds
to savor is her destruction
she must be careful of a fall
for the entirety of life's instruction
she'll learn to heed the call
maybe it will relinquish
the magic that it bids
and binding won't distinguish
between the garbage it rids
moreover this gift is freedom
but not ever to be free
the punishment is thrice beaten
will she refrain I guess we shall see

Peace Keeping Opossum

peace-keeping opossum with such an ugly pink tail
rids your yard of mice and snakes
a terrific mommy, she keeps her brood close
often is not dead so do not get too close too fast

Morning Star

Morose morn, but sun’s a catalyst, warm

On the eave, the pigeon’s contumely coo,
rids a night’s cumbersome, cold, smother
New day, dearth of dew on concrete lawn
Its dull gray lightened by that eloquent hi
nodding chesty chary iridescence of dawn

Glamor understated or colors long-fading?

Sipping tea by the roost, the bobbing struts
tread decrepit life under roofs, like a caveat
as nearby, shining freeway cars rush, at sea...

roaring mettles endure, seeking 'the' flower

(4/22/2021)

Mend My Wounds

Hover over my trauma, sharp as a vulture, swoop
Surround old scenarios with an offer to devour
Wipe the memory card of pain I play on loop
Grab my glitches with talon weapon power
Wounds bouncing red announce danger


Jab at, stab, peck out infection, empty of pulse
Rip it, sniff the adrenalin, swallow all sorrow 
Pluck eyeball delicate, until blank as dolls'
They blink thanks, hurt healer Hallowed
Wounds open have happiness follow


Latch onto my carcass, alight at cliff side guard 
Reptilian talons take off, lift me limp and ripe
Black soil fall apart, fresh organs' harvest
Seasons redefined by your vital swipe
Wounds swept ride a wayward kite


Feather buffer bolstering capable chest convex
Adopts torment, swiftly rids it from intruder                                           
Cleansed, amended by aves benevolence 
Oblivious to doubt with bathed bruises
Tandem scourers never marooned




                            18th April 
            Empathy ate pain

Alert In the Continuum

If poised & attentive
Looking at oscillation 
Stagnation sedative
Rise of contraction

The waves that arise
A storm in the making
Their source we apprise
Our own thought creation

Seeing ego urgings at play 
Our course we may rectify
In stillness as we pray
Prevent delusion to magnify

Constant watchfulness 
Devoid of complacency 
Continuum of centredness
Rids us of delinquency 

Thus meditation orientation 
Always ever present
Has us bubbling in joy elation
In sync with inner sound current

28-August-2020

Ailments, Purim Cures 'Em

Ailments? Purim Cures 'Em!
Down 'N the Dumps?
Simcha smoothes most lumps,
What's Simcha? Briefly, Shared Joy,
As more 'tis shared, less there is to annoy!
Trade a warm feeling, return a smile,
Rids everyone of at least some bile.
Together, we overcome trouble, 
Synergy! Life expanded, unconfined by the bubble!
Purim practices include:
Mishloach Manos; Friendly giving gifts of food,
Booing Haman; Rejoicing in justice coming to a bad dude,
Related in reading aloud the Megillah, a group "Thrillah",
Purim Seuda; a common meal festively "Imbues Yah",
Matanos Leveyonim; gifts to the needy do truly cure,
Giving does more to the giver as to the poor!
Adar, name of the month, a "Roller Coaster" journey,
When Spring, time of green health inspires, "Arise from your gurney! "
Assuming Disguises; In Adar, nothing is what it seems,
7th Adar, Moses born & died,  joy & grief in reams,
Even in Persia, Esther becomes Queen, a saving surprise,
Ailments? In Purim lies a cure! Mirth & birth reprise!

The Weight

heavy are 
the pounds
of a Black woman
torn down

much lighter
she becomes
rids herself
of some

her heart
unbound 
a powerful
sound
of beating
rhythmic
and calling
on herself
to keep 
from falling

You Don'T Choose, Choice F's You

Beads of clear liquor trickle

Like fickle tears a lick rids.

A drop slid down amidst

Thick fears.

Choice of liquor? Beer.

Steer inward towards clear

Ambitious

Glee.

Then, when opportunity peers from behind a mouth,

Opportunity flees.

Dripping, rivers of fluid dy-manics steer.

Simply be.

It does not choose the destination it nears.

It chooses to be free.

Dig My Own Grave

~~["Dig My Own Grave" is a series of writings in reflection of mental preparation... 
~~~Each scoop of dirt rids the mess where I'm to be finally laid to rest~~~] 

Cleanliness is next to "Godliness"_ or so I have heard. 
Sounds good to me_ no debate, or need for another word. 

I'm pulling the skeletons out from under my bed... 
shining light on old phobias way back in my head. 

Crushing picked bones I've had to bear.... 
dust to dust_ sweep em out into the air. 

Brought a good shovel cuz I'm diggin my own grave. 
Getting my mind right to become well behaved. 

So if you want it done right_ ya gotta do it yourself... 
put sleeves up, pedal to the metal, and pride_ top shelf. 

Don't know your thoughts about it or your true belief... 
to know it was done by my hand is the highest relief. 

Every day that we live, we become closer to death... 
Each thought and action may be our last breath. 

As long as we live we must stumble, toil and slave.... 
The best thing I'll be doing is digging my own grave.

Man the Scientific Tool Box

eyes the bi-camera
nose the bi-air detector
tongue the reporting journalist
legs the walk man’s prop roots
hands the defense acrobat
ears the spying  radar instrument
hair the cushion cover
stomach the chemical industrial plant
heart the pumping station
skin the warmth generator
liver the sewerage filter
kidney the water collection dam
breast calabash of white juice
arteries and veins the drainage channels
rids the spring board cabins
vocal cord the musical instrument
mouth the palace gate keeper
teeth the kitchen  cutlery
womb the tray of eggs
uterus the incubator
arm the movable crane
brain the systems decoder
back the inclined plane
human body the scientific tool box

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