St John Poems - Poems about St John

It should have said St John’s - with that apostrophe! So many omit the little mark. How could they, when its presence or absence gives us one meaning or the other? A tenant within these apartments who is a mysterious lady, placed the absent apostrophe on that poster, kept this nighttime act a secret, and crept away. St John was a saint we...

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I want you to see I want to believe for if I believe in his name a child of the King I would because the child of God All who receive Him and believe in his name become children of God Can you believe Him I receive Him in His name shall become children of God All who...

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1733 INSURRECTION ON- St John Lament Danish West Indies Bring yon, those terrible humans Who’s to say that there’re of humanity? Amidst this day of 1733 Akwamu islands Home of no proper human Rebellion Run darken skin one Revolting as it may Ghana Danish West Indies Capture, imprison and enslave, them Place the shackles of endearment Enslave them Rebellion Hunt them down Maroon them Work, enslave them all Shoot them Less than animals, 1/3...

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"50 Words for Poe: St John" St John was his name Sinjun for short Temptation was his game Ah Black Monk of my dreams A hot car on a fast track Shifting gears I burn up the road, turn up the stick Fast and furious got nothing on Brother Sinjun’s Black Monk’s mojo bag-o-tricks He sits in the passenger seat 101 goes to 190 around...

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I stood hidden in the shadows, watching as Salome, clad in flowing veils, gyrated to the music, exuding sensual richness. Herod leered drunkenly at her vibrant body. Overcome by uncontrolled lusty desire he promised her anything that she wished for and, prompted by her evil mother, she asked for the head of John the Baptist on a plate. Reluctantly, all eyes on...

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gently we measured our compassionate realm I was takened by the mental storm of quiet gestures beckoning the calm bayous the sinking earth of hanging moss craving darkness while seeking lights inner most hues catered to the wild eyes of daintiness and empty sorrows kindered between a bias immortal sphere within thee eternal wrath folded beyond di Vaticans core beneath the rubble...

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A night's jog through a quiet town. The strange warmth of an old familiar church. The morning sun and outside sounds. Picking the proper jeans, beguiled and besmirched. Cautious steps inside as anxiety melts off from incense. The light from the window above my pew. The love from a girl's eyes aching and iridescent. A cymbal struck as faces work like brightened...

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A knight.... Head bowed The sword sheathed Glittering blade......... Will never fade Knights of St John Knights Templar........ Have come far Battles, far from won Jerusalem.......... Will be lost......... We are the few......... What can we do? The final cost........ Our numbers have been reduced Jewels and gold............ They have been seduced So many bought...

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