Visionaryold Poems | Examples


A Thousand Degrees

Awaken frozen years of fright
The light that died within the night
The last of all you want to be
In eyes that no longer want to see

The turning of your sins to truth
Experience that handed proof
That falling down will make you rise
The mirror burning through your lies

Awaken shivering months of pain
The same old story; same old games
The fear that sunk into your heart
In hate you thought could not depart

Through every hurt that cracks your throne
There’s a silent story to decode
Now understand; ignite your mind
Now light the way and step outside

Awaken screaming days of loss
The counting down of every cost
The breaking child becoming ice
In eyes that suffer a thousand lives

Awaken this moment of return
Though the pain will briefly burn
Step through your shadow and become
The shining light without the sun
Form: Lyric

Mary - a Diary's Page

And your son
Fathered you
To carry him against the disbelief
And anger of conventions
And you gave birth
To the death of old traditions
That will not die
That stones your memory
With silence
For children are not products
Of wedlock
That die in new crucifixions
On crosses in the womb
And the old lie
Of third world overpopulation
You were a gift from him
And he the gift in you
Telling us
We are heritages of the Lord
Like Solomon
Building a sacred place of prayer
For the culture of our sins ...
I do not call you intercessor
I call you courage
Of the better example
Of love's perpetuity


Crack the Date

Guess what or guess who?

You shall sit old for I shall shape form and fashion your young.
Harkening heralds still laugh out loud bolstering it up with you.
You sound like a plummeting bee yet of all times now I’m stung.

Oh Really Now? 
Like I do not hear you?

If my truth is told then you are all that I can possibly do!
And poof! Your chord wraps only to get hung or strung.
You’ll still be silly but you’re just like a naughty old fool.

I know it,
And I know I know it!
I shall wait! 
While you knowingly remember to crack this once upon a time date?

Ah ha!

I scoff to my so be it with my most famous woe.
Obviously, you are late in my newfound state.
Now I am astonishingly confirmed as in lieu!

What does one do with the likes of one like you?
This is indeed my definite declarative stalemate?

I know you like I know myself,
I just know what I know I know!

So do check the date,
Or crack ye old mate.
Form: Narrative

Weather's Blend

There once was a desperate lonely old man walking through hot desert Sun.
He was completely sand blown and all his garments dangling totally undone.
But he walked as a sharp shooter aimed bowed and arrowed in the Sun’s way,
He seemed to be searching indefatigably for a higher score on a brighter day!

His whole entire world he had left,
Leaving each of everything behind!

He could feel his sunshades begin to slide slip and melt.
That poor old man was about to lose his beautiful mind.
Then he looked up at the vast Sun and this is what he said 

Me! Oh! My! “I Do As I Must So Now As I Must Give My High Recommend”,
A dash of this or toss of that brews my seasonal mixtures into weather’s blend!

I really, truly and knowingly do give you my honorable High Recommend,
Just so I can commend my natural amends coursing thy self on honors end!

Old House Song

Crossing over the threshold
creaks as loud as thunder
wallpaper peeling from years of old
like all of its memories of yonder

The wallboards and the floors
just bursting to tell
their many stories of yore
that only they knew too well

An old fireplace in its grandeur
with cracked bricks and holes
still has the same majestic hearth
heart of a loving home

Now leaning in sadness
empty and all alone
with loving care and tenderness
will again be a beautiful home

So as I strive to bring
its beauty back to life again
I can hear the old house sing
its proud song as it did once then
old
Form: Imagism


All You Must Do Is Open Your Eyes, Because Sometimes Halcyonian Is Just Behind the Wall

The old man looks on
He stares at the walls
The lights are bright
With no one in the halls
He touches the wall
He hears the vibration
He closes his eyes
To feel the sensation
He thinks to himself
Could I ask for more?
Or should I give up?
And fall to the floor
The man is torn
Two worlds to choose from
The man is weak
But still there, and then some
I see the old man
He's sweating and shaking
He pleads to the wall
My life's not worth taking
I go to the man
He's sobbing in fear
I lift him up
And tell him I'm here
He looks up at me
His eyes are a haze
He looks back to the wall
With his unmatchable gaze
I ask him why
Why he just stares
He tells me
He's the only one that cares
I tell the man
I want to see it
He says to me
I just have to believe it
I'm staring at the wall
The old man at my side
He tells me he'll be waiting
And our worlds will collide
So I close my eyes
To set myself free
He opens the door
And I finally begin to see
Who was this man?
What was his story?
Follow the path
Towards triumph and Glory

Rain

Laying here in this field,
Alone
Rain drops begin to fall
The moon so full and bright
I can see the drops before they land.
This rain feels as though its cleansing my soul
Purifying old memories, 
Old emotions
Washing my old and weathered state
For hours I lay here
In this grassy field
Drenched, to my inner being
The rain slows
Til it stops all together.
I open my eyes to see
Beautiful clear sky
The stars flickering
The moon so vibrant
I stand
And I know the rain washed away.....
Nothing

A Shot In the Dark { Narrative}

helplessly he stumbled 
through the door
holding his bloody chest 
Mother gazed into 
her fourteen year old eyes 
and just knew that he was up 
to his old antics of gang banging 
Yelling and cursing did nothing 
to wake this kid up 
Mother's tears flooded 
like an open gate 
she wondered 
where she went wrong 
raising him 
for he had the best 
of everything 
a home a job an education 
anything he wanted 
or needed 
was right at his fingertips 
maybe having only one parent 
in the household 
or just not enough discipline 
now she stands helplessly 
over her young sons 
lifeless body 
lying on the kitchen floor
in a pool of blood 
all that she could do now
was to pick up the phone 
and call the police 
and the morgue 



Tribute To Children
Form: Narrative

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