boudoir lined with glass
reflecting many faces
last of rolled paper
dabbed on her eye- shadowed lids --
tears crashing for lost youth's gloss.
1st place
Long time ago, people were clueless —
whom to give power, whom to respect,
how to decide who’s the best.
An idea arose:
the one who reached the top gets it all.
In the end, everyone laughed
at the one who had fallen,
who thought it was all just for fun,
never imagining
that a simple rank would define
the rest of his life — he had just learned.
From that day onwards,
it became a little harder to survive.
Every silent face with a smirk
reminded him of that day — without words.
The tradition carried on for centuries;
it’s now a widely known fact:
you are meant to give way to a winner,
because carpets aren’t rolled for sinners.
A train came rolling by,
dropping off people and cargo.
It's time to watch it go.
It's time to say goodbye.
The sting of death that awaiteth thee,
That, chisel out the stone of the tablet,
Given unto Moses by God to let it be known
This was just an introduction that yee
Might understand the evil that lurks.
Woe, unto yee that pick up the pieces,
Chiseled, to stone the prophets God sent.
Woe, unto yee that pollute the Living well,
That, yee not quench your thrist are allow others that they might drink.
Woe, unto yee that lifted up the Son of Man, as Moses lifted up the staff.
Nailing the carpenter to a cross,
But not knowing this was completing the purpose in which he came.
Its better one died than the whole world Parrish, that ye have been given access to return, for he laid down his life, only to raise it back up. May, the stone that blocks one's heart from knowing the Living God,
Be rolled away are Chiseled by the promised inheritance of the Holy Spirit,
Giving unto those which seek, which gives Glory, unto the Father through the Son, then placing the spirit of his son within yee giving back glory unto the Son through the Father that sent him that yee might return as Children of the Living God.
Scripture references
Matthew 27:62-28: 15
John 20: 7-9
Why did the angel roll the stone away?
Not so Jesus could get out.
He had already gone from man's tomb.
He was busy, doing what God had wanted Him to do.
The angel came but an earthquake happened as a results.
Who folded the face cloth?
Did Jesus Himself fold the face cloth?
The other linens were in a different place.
Remember when Lazarus came forth, he was still wrapped in his
Where did His clothes come from?
I have no answer except they were miraculous clothes.
Can you imagine?
The joy.
The understanding that hit the disciples and followers when they
realized what taken place.
They probably were thinking why did we not see before what
was really going to take place.
Read the Bible, ask God through His Son, Jesus, to open your eyes so you can see more clearly what it is saying to you.
when how hard I tried
there was changing of the tide
bod I have spied
what I heard some say
body had been washed away
on bottom now does lay
"Rolled Oats"
Age shall not weary
trolls counting strange fruit
golden apples rolled
Lord Laden put to sleep
on an alter Hippomenes
there Atalanta lights a candle
underneath the dry rot
Ovid’s oracle prophecy not far wrong
3 golden apples racing along
Hippomenes
strange addiction was outshone
the race never to be won
(LadyLabyrinth / 2023)
the conversations are rolled into the corners
stretching into a fifth dimension
perpendicular to all points
this is where i love you
curled back upon itself
unavailable to the eye
the physicist’s graven image
produced at energy levels
no longer on demand
counterfeited
lying useless on the floor
moments escaping
till you do
back into the visible spectrum
where the colored quarks
come to rest upon
a mask i have come to know
all too well
and given up all hope
of ever removing it
we chat in silence
the quietude in our pervading existence
is what we ultimately share
the empty spaces between galaxies
collisions that are temporarily ignored
a cosmos enveloped in its own existence
a life to be never seen
conjectures upon a table filled with mathematics
and nothing more
the weak force begetting pyrite
once radiant and full of promise
now lies a barren moonscape
awaiting expulsion, embers now ashes
fate in the coming winds
Fergus Falls 2000
As I rolled by...
Today,
on my way,
from here to there.
I saw a man,
dead.
He was laying,
on the ground,
his cheek upon
the pavement.
His body prone
and yet partly...
twisted.
He lay still.
No one touched him.
No-one turned him.
The ground...
burned his flesh.
The smell...
awful.
The police came.
They were not in a hurry.
The fire trucks were next.
They were all too late...
to make a difference.
How many would if they could?
How many do when they can?
How many don't?
I watched.
Not hurriedly they talked.
Not quickly they moved.
It was okay.
As the man,
he was...
still.
He did not complain.
There was no one to say...
a word.
Sorry, did I roll my eyes too loud
Happened before the roads were plowed
My eyeballs were
Covered in fur
From our pet Golden who is quite a grouch
Like a wild fire the orange consumed the crimson;
Rolling over it like a spring tide with a mission;
The orange blazed in parking lots and in stands;
Adornment of the happiest fans in the land;
Backed by a powerful purple wave;
To the onslaught the elephant would eventually cave;
Then the orange flashed up and down the field;
And the crimson and white would have to yield;
The band blared the song that shook the entire land;
Evenings events transpiring better than planned;
The faithful fans chanted to the rag;
As soon the game was in the bag;
And the tide clan looked like crimson clowns;
As so many sad faces did abound;
Nothing could stop those orange pants;
And we all joined Dabo in a victory dance;
The domination was complete and all around;
On: The Day the Tigers Rolled into Town;
God,
Rolled Back The Curtains
of Hell
By: Tom Wright
8/21/00
In Hell,
were just voices with no faces attached,
and faces having detached vocal chords.
Spirits, that had retained their senses.
That Saw the darkness of hell,
while conjuring the aura of Heaven.
Feeling tormented flames,
and hearing screams, each exclusive,
while being bedeviled by the jocularity of a deceiver.
Touching a transparent atmosphere,
being encircled by incalculable numbers,
nonetheless, each remaining alone.
Nostrils, filled with putrid smells for eternity,
"Where their worm dieth not, *
and the fire is not quenched."
* Mark 9 : 44
The wave rolled in on a gentle wind
A promise born, soon to begin
The plea of love across your face
My heart's tide did surely grace
Cresting now, this fulsome wave
With deepest eyes of blue engraved
Breaking softly on the shore
Of love eternal, evermore
Let me ask you, how does the poem change
when "dog" is addressed in the female gender?
come now little "....."
stop shaking
it's only thunder
More specifically,
do you still see a dog?
come now little dog
stop shaking
it's only thunder
MagiCicada 13
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