Short Holy Man Poems

There is a holy man with
A heart like a bell
That rings out loud
Through the air,
Like a ship with a sail
Made of cast iron and steel
Listen to the sound everywhere
Lord, my heart is a bell...

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Beard bent over his walking stick
  each step cautious
twitching side to side 
  left hand trembling, along for the ride

Tapping out the narrow path every morn
  to the place his soul was reborn...

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lord 
wash thy rock
for 
which 
i 
stand
the spirit be weak 
thus 
trapped in the flesh
transform me
into 
a holy man
lord
i
shall be transformed
and
blessed
to praise you again
and
be transformed
lord, here i am...

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High in the Himalayas a dreamt of - our Shangri- La
Exquisite yearning desires become emotional realities 

Ignore it or give yourself up to it like a Holy Man

The wind never stops blowing and the air is so clear
I think you can see too far...

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If I were to say I was a holy man,
I would be a liar.
If I were to say I was brave,
I'd tremble behind my words.
If I tried to count the stars above my head,
I'd be too great a task.
I am just a simple man,
A simple man with no purpose but to love....

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They fall over themselves
Rush to tap on the blessing
Urged on by the holy man

Wallets are turned out
Blessings are decreed
Souls upturned await

They study not the word
Preacher has a direct line
To the creator and maker



#Luis 2017...

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A holy man in a hospital bed
Preciously wrapped,
Like a mystic infant
Radiant, beautifully sculpted
against white sheets.

You're dying you say.
Your voice a lamp,
Another lesson strung
on a rosary of sacred moons,
to be held in prayer,
while darkness swaddles you....

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Please listen to Me
God's own
Never stood alone
Respected
Protected
A Holy Man
Held up by God's hands
Washed clean
Blessed rivene
Mankind
Bless the times
Divinity
Clarity
My heart conceived
Who believes
I bow to your honor
Heavenly Father
Answered caller
Your faithful follower...

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Heartily I say, rejoice 
and be happy.
For among you stands
A pious man, 
A holy man,
A chosen man
Who has seen.
Miracles and wonders
Who has seen the heavens.
Open up and the lords.
spirits come
Pouring down
in thunderous
clouds of lightening
striking the congregation
with the power of the holy spirit...

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Oh hearken to me lord! 
I grow tired and weary 
I can carry my battles no more 
I am no holy man 
No saint that I can bear this with fortitude 
I seek no fortune from you 
Nor does the love of this world tempt me 
I long for how things used to be 
My knees grazed by my lost supplications 
I weep only for my wasted days...

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A single feather
Upward toward the stars
Casting cosmic dust
In dancing rings 
Upon this land 
A holy man, a messenger,
A particle in transmission 
Flowing 
To a simple stream 
To a mighty ocean 
His breath is the fog
Dense and vast
It fills each lung
Forming flesh 
Bone
Muscle
Pushing against 
The death in the water...

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Shouts in the temple, the curtain is torn in two
The elders and priests now know what is true
Just as I heard the centurion say
“This truly was a Holy man we killed today"

Arbitrium Divisa 3 Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Gregory R. Barden
7/18/19


Rising of the Son Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Chantelle Anne Cooke
4/6/19...

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the holy man understands he does not need a church to worship
he only needs faith, goodness, heartfelt humbleness and belief
he peers into God’s world, seeing the best for everyone,
feeling awed that He was chosen to be surrounded by such beauty
loving the feeling of being beloved that comes upon his soul
his angels rejoice, that he is a humble, beautiful human being...

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The keys held in the Bishop’s Scarlet 
Robe are those keeping the secret, who know
of the scarlet flow.
Communion’s cup, filled to the brim,
holds the secret of him.
Holy Man of Five Holes,
punctured history, saver of souls.
He who begged for the cross as noose,
he who was surely king of Jews.
He lives on, through the secret of the Grail,
which is ever the focus of the Church’s blackmail....

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He speaks to the wind, who obeys Him
Who is He that speaks to the wind?
JESUS

He speaks and it is so all is CREATED
Who creates with just His spoken word?
God

Glory, glory is the story
The maker of all and everything
The great I AM
Holy One GOD

He speaks and all is well
He came down in the shell of man
Holy, holy man GOD/GOD man and His names is
GOD

8/05/18
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. ©2018...

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One day I went to god
                     to ask my destiny…
He told me to go to a holy man
                     but he was performing a ceremony
After the ceremony I asked him
                     “please tell my fate”
He said too me ”you are too late”
                      I got sad but didn’t loose hope
As I knew that I would get one row
                      then I thought why should I ask my destiny
As it is in my own hands and in my company……...

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The llama has a name that everybody mispronounces.
"The double 'll', it sounds like 'y'," he patiently announces.
"The single 'l', it sounds like 'l'," proceeds his dissertation,
"And a 'lama' is a holy man of Tibetan derivation.
But what I cannot understand," says he, 
"Is why it's not left up to me
To solve a problem that's become the worst case
Of mispronunciation in the history of creation,
And spell it 'yama', like it sounds, in the first place!"
...

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I see the world
as a place to be free
and place where there's only
you and me.

A place of freedom
a place of love
that the holy man put here
from above

I see the world 
through my own eyes
a small thing
no disguise

but you stop 
and see what's beneath
beneath the roads and 
concrete streets.

you start to hear
machines, beeps, and tweets
you start to look around,
this place smells like meet.

is this world just 
a fake
another movie,
a double take?...

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There was a cryptic message
about a demise at the roof top
of a tree.

Blue sky would whip it up to a cock
on an ornate cloud of an ego
for a free fall from the moon.

Give leverage to the silence of a cudgel
to uproot the bristle from a face
of a fear; there was an ominous warning.

Ancestors of jar will pour out the honey
on emptiness of a truth
about the fiction of a planet.

Nose for nose, battle was on,
between tank and toe,
hand and pen.



SATISH VERMA...

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There was a cryptic message
about a demise at the roof top
of a tree.

Blue sky would whip it up to a cock
on an ornate cloud of an ego
for a free fall from the moon.

Give leverage to the silence of a cudgel
to uproot the bristle from a face
of a fear; there was an ominous warning.

Ancestors of jar will pour out the honey
on emptiness of a truth
about the fiction of a planet.

Nose for nose, battle was on,
between tank and toe,
hand and pen.



SATISH VERMA...

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Aint no sunshine
When He’s gone
Only darkness everyday
Aint no sunshine
At the dawn, at the dawn
When He’s gone away

Imagine
The world in darkness
Mass confusion
Nothing makes any sense
Imagine
All the empty souls
A place
Where evil has control
Imagine
All the pain
Riddled in endless fire
Without the Holy man
The only man
Who allows to inspire
I could not imagine
All the pain that I would find
If there were no God
If there were no sunshine

The End
By Greg P...

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