Standing at the cross-roads of
past,present and unseen future,
holding the truth so strong & firm,
fearing it may slip out of the lips.
Weeping heart hopes to shout the
truth to the world that I aint a
bad human as you perceive,
but the silly heart also
wishes the truth may never come
out which shatters your beautiful,
rosy picture on moral pedestal.
Balancing my bleeding feet on
the sharp rubble of my broken world,
with dagger piercing my tongue,
so not even the moans of
truth are spilled.
Shouts are so loud that no one
hears them and the eyes
silently sheds tears which
no one ever sees.
Hope we see the beautiful
sunshine together rather me
having heart in dark and smile
in the bright light.
Written On:26/01/2025
PS:About people who cant let out truth ,even when hiding the
truth hurts the person holding on it,in keeping his loved ones
safe and happy.Those loved ones have no idea what the person
is doing for them.
the last breath
shouts in a whisper
the message is clear
Praise God*
soul’s nod…
Love glows
joy flows…
Stop whines
heart shines…
Great hope
trust’s rope…
Seek peace
pangs cease…
Grace blest
faith’s zest…
Smite doubts
thank shouts.
*Psalm 150:1 Praise ye the LORD. Praise God in his sanctuary: praise him in the firmament of his power.
April 3, 2022
1st place, "A BRIAN STRAND STANDARD" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Brian Strand; judged on 4/4/2022.
untitled haiku, excited
nervous shouts
we all rush and collide
hummingbird’s lost flight in a house
————————————————————————-
(c) sally Young eslinger 1/19/21
With thanksgiving on my lips my God and king will I exalt
I sing and rejoice on my journey to the temple of Yahweh
To lift praises with the multitude to the Alpha and Omega
How the deer pants for streams of water in a dry domain
So my soul pants for God, who grants cool water to drink
How my tears have been my food all my days and nights
Oh where is your God? My enemies never cease taunting
Unafraid, I poured out my soul to my Savior, my Adonai
Thirsting for his love like streams in the desert of Negev
Soul, why so downcast deep within me, why such ennui
Only Yahweh can deliver you from iniquity's temptation
For I shall yet praise my God among the festive throng
*A paraphrase of Psalm 42
No one screams, no one shouts, no one to cry.
No sobbing wet cheeks or damp eyes to dry
No one to stop living, nor wish to die.
No one can deny both took the chance to try
No one need to ask the other the reason why.
No one dares think of how time took to fly.
No one stops the blank stares into the sky
No more rules and laws of love to comply.
No other words unspoken but "Sweet Goodbye".
w07-07-19
Saviour Jesus Christ, God Almighty revealed Himself:
Creator reaching down to me with His compassion
Redeemer, ransoming my soul from sin's penalty...
Imparting divine nature, transforming me by His omnipotence
Publishing His preserved precepts that proclaim His purpose
Testifying about His love filled with grace, mercy, pardon...
Untainted Word, Scripture* upholding my faith midst turmoil
Restoring, refreshing, replenishing me ceaselessly
Exalting the Author of truth and the Source of life everlasting.
*2Timothy 3:16 "All scripture is given by inspiration of God, and is profitable for doctrine, for reproof, for correction, for instruction in righteousness."
February 18, 2019
Voices of fire, booming,
crackling explosions cry out their sulphuric elation.
Another celebration, of every nation and
baby new year’s rattle rings out to the heavens;
transition is sometimes sweet; sometimes sour.
Hopes ride high for the coming months; dreams’
are revived by Father time’s passing.
Like the phoenix, he will rise again;
his labors fill the days and nights of mortal illusion.
It’s said that, we create our own reality;
if so, why does he labor through every incarnation?
Could it be that we are he?
Fire shouts to our collective subconscious
and we are renewed;
an opportunity to create peace lies ahead.
Happy New Year it cries; a new reality waits.
The brain writes the script
as the soul provides the ink
Words forever faithful
—thoughts and feelings now engaged
Logic builds the platform
for passions rolling thunder
The format set, a voice shouts free
—the truth alone on stage
(Villanova Pennsylvania: July, 2017)
Bill's a conservative
upset that Meals on Wheels
and Medicaid face possible
cuts in America's budget.
He yells to colleagues
who also have money that
we shouldn’t mess with
elderly folks who depend
on one good meal a day and
shouldn’t say no to the poor
when they need a doctor.
Making these cuts won't make
America Great Again.
Making these cuts will make
America sadly inhumane.
Let’s break some day-old bread
with the old and poor and
revise that budget again.
Donal Mahoney
Sensory reveries float feathery,
Softly, through my summary treasuries.
There are flashes, small splashes
that wander in random dashes
between my head and heart.
Some precious memory stashes
often break dark and apart.
I will feed on photo books
hoping repair requires but a look.
It often ends with me shook
by a bittersweet sharp dart
and the smart of its hook.
As I age, I feel little doubt
time neither shouts or pouts,
but sprouts all feelings once jolly
to cultivate seeds of melancholy.
Underclass ; a running box that middles
the center of a (not)living room.
Kidney table; an African girl beams
down into the smoke
an ashtray of burnt souls.
Faces full of thin beer admire
the box lights of the estate,
double binds, grins, hopless rutting.
Far ; the black flat of fields
owls and air, silence.
Shouts of Joy being echoed
Through out the earth for our LORD,
Takes us with Him tonight.
Let's go shopping today
drive our fancy cars, smash guitars
as you listen to every word I say
Shopping malls all so crowded
teenage angst, as the innocent walk the planks
and ignore the rebel who's shouting
Crave a big mac
mustard and ketchup, no time to play make-up
how can I get my future back
I guess it's all for nothing
all our leaders nothing more that cheaters
never did anything, but atleast I said something
My father once fought for something yea
all we do now is argue, and misuse
but hey, I guess it was my idea
Who's shouting today
all the preppies, just the yuppies
who wave a flag of anti-gays
What's justice anyway
is it in their platform, making us conform
but I don't wanna play
in their game
Rebels use to burn yea
they use to mean something, when truth had a ring
but I guess it's all gone by the way
I can't complain
My father and I are still here
trying to bring some light, into this fight
to win equality away from fear
but that was yester-year
Just an empty streetcorner
cameras shy away, though we're here to stay
I guess it's back to south of the border