I recognize everything
is more than enough.
Bow your head,
prey.
I reckon I
seized the day -
ain’t no calling a bluff.
Bide your threat.
Pray.
Irate kin survived,
smiling with their sore thumbs.
You got proof you can make it with less.
Be careful of what you say.
Oh God
what an excuse
to take away.
We have a world of abundance:
in chance,
in effort,
in hope.
In resources
that, with letters,
have separated roles
to plunder,
to steal,
to hoard.
To think this
is a way of control.
The world needs
to let go.
What’s there to give
aside from
what can be gained?
Poetry is rare
A few words
Building worlds
No one sees
A quiet hand
A searching heart
A tender voice
That will not part.
James was dead Peter was chained
and people prayed
Peter was a prisoner for his faith
Released by an angel a miracle
I believe
Truth is scarce so is peace
A game of hide & seek
Nothing feels right I don't know why
There are times I need to shake my head
Something lost in the translation I think
when words are blurred
Truth is scarce so is peace
Pilate asked What is truth?
Jesus said I am the way and the truth
Frank Black Blacharczyk
My poetry is scarce and short...
Contrary to life, is poetical
and long... and live its contradictions:
When I drink they feel drunken,
If I cry, they laugh,
If I imprecate, they suffer,
if I work, they eat a lot,
finally and contradictory:
If I die, they already told me,
will suffer from deficiencies...
That's why my dear friends i say
my poetry can be little,
but it causes damage when missing... !
There's scarce a word as ominous,
As the word 'belief'
The Gospels yield terror
As oft they do relief
A damnation unremitting,
The wage of unbelief
Is to me as comforting,
As capture to the thief
.
The stars tonight are scarce
But hell, every night they are scarce
A city dweller longs crisp air
But is forced to breathe in what is there
It’s a shame really
To be somewhere you don’t want to be…
But hey, no one’s forcing me to stay here
See, other elements are at play
I believe more and more everyday
That we are in the way of ourselves
Our thoughts torment and jeer
Though often we sugar-coat ourselves with cheer
In a way, the stars tonight are scarce
Because of me
They don’t have to be scarce
They could be multitudninous
If only this half-hearted mind was free
Man, for once
I should really consider not being me!
Scarce Time
My time has been a little scarce of late
What to skip over is at serious debate
The things I love have taken a back seat
As time restrictions and reality meet
The time to read and the time to write
Gets away from me with the coming of night
Oh how I miss my dear friends
I hope this drought quickly ends
Be patient with me for I’ll catch up
For I thirst for water from your poetry cup
My heart is with you at this difficult time
That’s why I send you this heartfelt rhyme
The Spirit of the LORD is in Me
I Will Sing Unto the Lord
The Power of the LORD is in Me
I Will Sing Unto the
LORD
The Strength of the LORD is in Me
I Will Sing Unto the LORD
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.