Perhaps, I were your wife,
Would you have made me a paper tiger,
one that looks fierce but cannot bite?
Perhaps, I were your husband,
Would you have used feminism to emasculate me,
turning me into a yo-yo at your whim?
Perhaps, I were your friend,
Would you have made me a clown,
one who makes you laugh but lives in sorrow?
Perhaps, I were your servant,
Would you have made me a sea squirt,
eating his own brain just to serve you?
Perhaps, I were your parent,
Would you have made me a burden,
one who bends his back to feed your pride?
Perhaps, I were your child,
Would you have made me subservient to your greed,
one who loses his future to your ego?
Perhaps, I weren’t yet born,
Would you have been proud to weave me in your DNA,
one you breathe life into to erase your doubts?
Perhaps, this were only a poem,
Would you have thought of it a classic,
one that would stand the firm test of time?
Death has no conscience
death has no friends.
Every saint and sinner
will be visited by him.
Death hides in the wings
just stalking his prey.
Death is your shadow
only a heartbeat away.
The rich and the famous
the poor the unknown.
They'll be no hiding place
when God calls us home.
Death will greet everyone
for all things must die.
Life itself will disappear
in the blink of an eye.
But deaths not the end
death is nothing to fear
For death is only a servant of God
who leads us to heaven from here.
I look in the mirror, I see the defects of my soul,
Shadowed by the flaws of my heart.
Am I blocking the path of light that I see in my shadow's front?
Do rumors define me, or can I break free?
From the burdens of doubt, or is it the weight in me?
In the darkness of the night, loneliness creeps in,
But I still hold on to the light I've known.
Perhaps to embrace my fears,
And wipe away my tears.
For the flame inside is burning bright.
I must stand up tall,
And pass through life's steel walls.
But when I look in the mirror,
All I see are the defects of my soul.
klaus says humanity has lost its trust' so i guess to regain
It is his new must??
trump has won and now presides.' As many people are
Opening their eyes.?]
Many Americans phoned and texted when a new bill was
Debated' and we saw things got really affected.'
I don't know how ( that went down ?)
With all those evil? davos clowns?
soros gates claus and carny, atten-borough thun-burg they'd send you barmy!
In listening to such fifteen minutes? it is plenty.' Of time
To escape the ' forever citys' and before they're built.!
Like a hive.? Do we have a mind.? Hmm think..Think think.?
Also action will do fine.' What will be the next distractions.? Maybe
Its simply best to do as above.? Get involved to devolve.!
Give the agenda a shove.? Which is like a train on its track
Of lies.?? If you remove some sections off a cliff it
Fly's
Beneath the full moon’s silver lamp alight,
The world, in hushed reverence, bows its head,
A tapestry of stars, against the velvet night,
Where wisdom speaks, what hearts have left unsaid.
The whisper of the pines, a solemn hymn,
Flows gently through the fields of ashen gold;
And streams, like mirrors, gleam at twilight’s rim,
Reflecting truths too sacred to be held.
Compassion walks where wildflowers softly bloom,
Your hands outstretched to heal the wounded soul;
Empathy builds a bridge through paths,
Uniting those divided by their toil.
Forgiveness, like a tide, sweeps clean the shore,
Revealing treasures buried deep below,
And duty, steadfast, seeks to open doors.
That lead through trials that only love can know.
The moon, kept full by hearts that dare to give,
Shines on the hopeful paths we rise above;
For in our gratitude, we truly live—
Servants of this life, and keepers of its love.
Caged in the thoughts supposed to release her.
The road to righteousness covered in stones.
Falling over the master of mind lures.
Her heart an afterthought; body on loan.
Walks in the dark, candle lit in her mind.
Chest flickering without the eyes aware.
Shivering in absence of light to find,
the key locking in this state of despair.
Looking down at her feet, covered in dirt.
Observing the separate is all the same.
Dark not existing as angel light flirts
with the hole in her soul, watching it wane.
Standing still seeing darkness come apart.
A witness to the servant of her heart.
By day she walks among the weary streets,
With quiet strength, her heart a steady flame,
In every gaze, a thousand stories meet,
She knows their pain, though they won't speak her name.
Her hands are soft but firm with gentle care,
They wipe away the sorrows of the night,
A whispered word, a balm to calm despair,
Her presence turns the dark to tender light.
No cry unheard, no soul too lost to find,
She bears their weight, yet never bends her spine,
For kindness flows like rivers from her mind,
She serves not for herself, but what's divine.
And though her heart breaks with the world each day,
Her empathy renews, love shows the way.
Based on Psalm 23 NIV
Placed Second
Modern Version Psalm 23 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Miranda Hawley
A Voyager
The Lord is my captain; I`ve faith in Him.
He asks me to sit down in the stateroom,
He steers the vessel away from rocks,
He comforts my spirits.
He leads me along the right routes
To spare distress.
Even though I cross
the deepest oceans,
No fear assails me,
As He`s my captain;
His shine and His brain
Enhance my faith.
He steers amidst stifling stormy waves
Without being encumbered by them.
He fills the ship with fuel;
I am delighted.
I pray that His grace and mercy rest with me
As long as breath I heave,
and I will be the Lord`s humble servant
forever.
Being God’s Servant
Miracle Man
2/6/2024
I’ve always been seen as a bighearted dude,
while my wife cuts coupons and seeks out great deals.
I thank God often for mental fortitude,
if its low in price she considers them steals.
While as just a young man my Mother once said,
son, you’ll never have much, you’ll give it away.
But because of willingness we’ve stayed ahead,
God has provided and we’ve not failed to pray.
In today’s clamor for genuine public servants who are not just politically glamorous, the need for sincere servant leaders is reverberating with fervent prayer. This calls for officials who work with integrity, honesty, transparency and accountability while exemplifying to the next generation their functional transformative slogan, “Let’s achieve more together.”
Monchielle Stanza 1-7-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Servant Heart Dwells in Joy
Servant heart dwells in joy
Knowing my need for God
I long to see God’s face -
Reveries majestic –
My shame, regret, displaced.
Servant heart dwells in joy
Gathering thorns of grief
That pierced my tender heart
To transform grey bleakness
Grace binds wounds – healing arts.
Servant heart dwells in joy
To lift the lame from dust
Mercy’s ways guide the blind
Feeling heaven’s goodwill
Hope with joy entwined.
Servant heart dwells in joy
Work of my hands – prayer
Each breath a psalm to sing
God takes my breath away
Living ‘neath awesome wings.
Servant Heart
O Lord, I know my need for you
For your grace like fresh borning dews
Your ready handmaid, scarred and flawed,
Servant to the servants of God.
You gift me music, ministry,
Writing rhymes from soul felt pleas,
To walk the rough roads you have trod,
Servant to the servants of God.
Let me be less, Lord, you be more,
This my prayer – this I implore –
A servant’s heart, humbled and awed,
Servant to the servants of God
Poets and Singers
Sweet exclusion
Knows bounds
Sadly servant
to the whims
Drinking Mead
to the seasons mirth
Transmute themselves
to the citizens of dawns voice
I’d give away my freedom just for thee
And gladly be thy servant all my life,
For where thou art is where I want to be
In this uncertain world that’s full of strife,
I’d be thy guide through all adversities
And gladly be thy servant all my life.
I lack so many of good qualities:
With such as I am and whate’er my strength
I’d be thy guide through all adversities.
Come take my hand and however the length
This journey takes, I would not flinch but face,
With such as I am and whate’er my strength.
However far or tiresome be the race;
However doubtful the future for us
This journey takes, I would not flinch but face.
If thy heart were a gaol that to live thus,
I’d give away my freedom just for thee;
However doubtful the future for us,
For where thou art is where I want to be.
April 9, 2023
10 syllables per line based on howmanysyllables.com
Rhyme checked with rhymezone.com
Inklings Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Regina McIntosh
What am I doing?
Oh nothing much,
A third in a house for two,
Living on a couch
In the Living room,
You know,
Existing,
Feeding off the bottom,
Living a life,
I never agreed too.
Related Poems