Some say
when one dies
there is nothing
no more seen and felt
nothing left behind
gone all the
memory
travel
fits of dreams
inspiring beams
one has chased
through imagined dimensions
if not to capture
at least, then, to experience
and chronicle
poems transcribe a soul’s
patterns of ascent and falls
as a crystal gazed to read
the electrics enclosed alive,
conduits of senses that
spark and fly seeming into
an alternate freedom beckoning --
Everywhere I look
I see no example of nothing --
to the contrary, see
the little becoming the large
the solid becoming the mist
yet breathable, so to speak
replenishing,
(transformed into)
(reformed of)
accountable deaths becoming new
resurrections – even space
and time with forward
and back markers, nothing
lost entirely just replaced --
juxtaposed….
If I will then be nothing
show me one example!
Perhaps I will believe….
Even the vacuum
speaks the substance
of emptiness....writes its hidden
language
upon our blank pages....
It’s cold.
It’s cold in my lodes.
It’s cold in my cells.
It’s cold in my lobe.
My ears, blessed with plagued tint; your windmill of everlasting exasperation, pacifying the turmoil beneath my dermis.
Again, again, and again.
The recurring depiction inked onto the dip of my lips, the pink waning into the virtue of my ward.
The tears gash as I attempt to pelt away from the ceaseless predation I reluctantly melt into.
The eyes scan me head to toe; I remain a simple dispute to the contrary of my dearth.
The eyes strip me head to toe; I remain a simple fiction to the turpitude of their obscenity.
The eyes scourge me head to toe; I remain a simple anathema to the excretion of my blasphemy.
The exploited nudity travels beneath my tangible, under my demeaned stance of a humiliated vermin.
Nothing but a figurine carved into flesh.
Nothing but a mannequin scribed into skin.
Their degradation caresses the mortification of my fragility.
And the epithelium of my delicacy probes at me;
I’m not making it to 19.
Skeletons Poetry Contest.
Sponsor by Seth Pina
All our grandparents were deceased;
As were also both our mom and dad.
I don't know why I wanted to know,
nor what I would do if there were
coverups or secrecies in our family.
Is there any SKELETONS in our family closet?
That was the question to my oldest sister.
At first, she did not understand the question.
Immoralities, misbehaviors, unthinkable things?
Unsavory, mean spirited, and things unspoken?
Family secrets hidden from most everyone?
Dark deeds done behind closed doors?
It has been 28 years since I asked the question.
I have not seen or heard anything to the contrary.
My sister was genuine, and I knew she would be true.
I could feel the sincerity in her voice when she said,
I know of no SKELETONS in our family.
Atheism is verklempt
At its presuppositional attempt
There is this paradox
Which Christianity unlocks
Atheism in unfounded
Relying on Christianity being grounded
Saying it’s atheism we presuppose
But saying it’s so, doesn’t make it so
A pugilistic beating of all that’s airy
Proves our view to the contrary
There is no atheistic foundation
It is futile trepidation
Epilogue
I know you don't want to hear it
Christianity is not proven by "school spirit"
And for your lack of want
Consult the method of Immanuel Kant
Today, as always, I am grateful for native nations wisdom…
and how they’ve found a way…
despite our efforts to the contrary…
to bring that wisdom back today…
Hold on to what is good…
even if it is a handful of dirt
Hold on to what you believe…
Even if it is a tree that stands by itself.
Hold on to what you must do…
even if it is a long way from here.
Hold on to life…
even if it is easier to let go.
Hold on to my hand…
even if I have gone away from you.
My dearest love,
I pray that theses words find the strength to covey beyond the mere definitions they keep. I seem to have lost you in a riddle, a battle of inability's. or at the very least I've misplaced you within corrupted ideas of what you and i once were, a totality thru a proximity of souls. Though my actionless vernacular vastly tells a different story to the contrary. It is only but the corner piece to a thousand parts, that I have yet to lay. still i find myself mesmerized by the haunting of foreign eyes. subsites for your lack of understanding or for a lack of better words. Not so long ago they held me to the flames of lustful desire. I fell Persecuted for the feeding of a lonely heart. The loss stretches beyond mere mortal comprehension. Its vastly seamless in its threaded existence. boundless, I know no measure to compare my love to thee extended hands and feet are of consequence. there is no resolve.
God Proper
is pure Light and
Love –
as long as
man declares division,
governs by lesser-ego,
setting God apart
from himself – then,
God divided
manifests presence
as opposing elements
of positive and negative
charges –
(however, magnetic attraction
will always be present
regardless – a universal constant)
then, best attempt at harmony~
would be, balance by way
of managed distance --
whether man is aware
or not,
creation is always one
with its creator, all substance
varying degrees of divine consciousness – Universal
mind)
man using divisive nature, at the same
time thinking himself separate~ appendages
of imagined individuality while on an indivisible
body of Universal Presence – actual division is
illusion of consciousness – it only exists
mentally --
when man accepts
Christ-consciousness --
closer he moves
toward sentient association
with his indwelling divinity --
Acquiescence to
Christ’s lead does not manifest as loss of
volition...but, to the contrary, such surrender
becomes gateway for heightened personification
of Kinship with The Father Godhead --
It rained this morning...
but I am not surprised
myself arising a bit
on the cloudy side --
by the afternoon
my mind a blaze
of clear activity --
the sun was high
and bright --
to the contrary,
the day before
I arose quite chipper --
yet it rained all day
such a windy, soggy
dripper
the night even more fierce
not a star of light
what were you thinking!?
We’re all important in different and various ways
But we shouldn’t ever get to caught up in our own significance
or self-importance
Whatever we believe, we are transient
Whatever pigeon hole, box or compartment of our lives, we are transient
Friends, strong friends, we may bump into but rarely do we seek or
be sought out with any regularity
We hear ourselves say “we should do this more often”
but we rarely do
We are all guilty
Work environments, once left, people quickly fade
An acknowledgement that the world moves on
Quite rightly so
We are transient
Even with families, that most permanent of connections,
time erodes any permanence
Most can remember our parents and even grandparents
but how much beyond that
We are all of us, transient
Our lives are relatively short, for most our legacy is even shorter
Very few people have any form of permanence in history
This doesn’t mean we are irrelevant
To the contrary
We can be important and influential in a number of ways
It’s important to remember
Who you are
What you are
How you are
Be true to yourself but know life for what it is
In not so many years, no one will know any of this
The fall of man is attributed to Eve
Who urged Adam to eat the forbidden fruit
Such is the story ancient biblical scriptures weave
Bringing about, as is said, on all of mankind disrepute
Reserving judgment on whether this tale is false or true
Blind belief that we have sinned shrouds us in guilt
Heart contracts every day swallowing this brew
No wonder then facing storms of life we wilt
Instead if we say man and woman are one
Polarities of God’s singularity that split in duality
Then concepts and beliefs entertained come undone
Allowing us to holistically view the absolute truth in totality
Eve is certainly not the villain she has been made out to be
Quite to the contrary, Adam was incomplete without her
Such is the interpretation, which our loving eyes see
We hope dear reader, that with us you concur
"Rage, Rage against the dying of the light.", They say.
To the contrary,
all the Sun wants is
the cessation of the light.
It labors endlessly
bringing light to the world
so that we may flourish.
A thankless job,
with us too consumed by greed
to take a moment to ponder
the Sun's mighty effort.
With no breaks or relief
the Sun shines constantly,
bringing its holy rays
and providing bright days.
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light.", They say.
"Let me go.", pleads the Sun.
We all knew Jack or someone like him,
But we thought time had passed by him,
We even sang the odd hymn,
To mark the passing on of him.
But alas he has returned to carry on where he left off
Knowing every job the ins and outs of.
That others could not finish off,
Despite many views to the contrary of,
By those cleaning up after he had moved off,
To tell others what he never knew the half of.
I came across him the other day,
And he still had the same old things to say,
About how others did not know how to work with clay,
Or who should have right of way,
And that he was able to bring what was needed into play,
Faster than I could say,
I'm finished for the day.
Now he has a family of his own,
For us to bemoan.
no matter what you
say to the contrary you
will always keep on giving
me renewed opportunities
to reenter your world even
if they are very sort lived
the chance always exists
even when it may not appear
to be so to the untrained naked
eye of a passer by the chance
still exists and will continue to
exist through the knowing eye
of the two of us
the situational door of
continued opportunity
never truly closes
it always seems to
somehow remain open
so be it even if it´s just a crack
it stays open no matter what
you might say to the contrary
you leave it open for me to
stick my foot back into your
life every so often through
out this years and for years to
come your never truly done with me
no matter what you may say
We are the people, did you know,
Better be ready, do feel it so.
But, to keep you accurate to, you!
We live in a human world;
Where sin is thick, judgments clouded;
In a world that's full of hate;
The people were shouting.
People are boasting about themselves:
In prideful ways, they'll soon regret;
The things they've said in their vanity.
Racial slurs are happening everywhere:
We as people cannot move forward;
Because we lost to our hast;
Such sorrow to see this happening in despair.
Who gives the right for such arrogance to bear:
I know of one, which soon will be here;
Please give it a guess, then wait and see.
I see people for who they are:
They have but one color in my eyes;
That's the color of love, for all to reside.
Our times now find us to this:
New World Order, a dictatorship;
They want their citizens to bow to them.
But, to the contrary:
I bow to no one, but One;
Our Father in Heaven, and I love Him so.
Sub Categories
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.