When I was a young man, I could easily recall,
A beautifully bold and vivid tapestry, hanging on a wall.
It told of a great story, with chapters in history,
As if woven by skillful hands, without loss of memory.
Each thread seemed alive and vibrant to its root,
Criss-crossing one another, as if in some hot pursuit.
Yet the picture created was powerful and complete,
Showing heroes and their victories, without any defeat.
While this expression was detailed and finely artistic,
My view saw a literary chapter, very realistic.
Just as one reads a page, top down and left to right,
This pictorial was like a book, as it spoke to my sight.
Regardless of how colorful or detailed it was where it hung,
It seemed to elevate my every thought, climbing higher on a rung.
And while my memory will claim it never to forget,
My mind has etched it deeply, with no fear or regret.
When looking back on thoughts of despair, words in haste so hard to bare. Where sharp tongues take control, shaking the mind while crushing the soul. Speaking words from the heart, stern but true, brings hard thoughts into review, it’s hard to smile and easy to weep, hard to stand on tender feet. Like the hand that wrote on the wall brings remorse as feelings fall. …….Written through the night, don’t really understand it and yet I do. I can’t recognize myself in this poem. This poem wrote itself and that is why I kept it.
there is emptiness
until we allow the love
that will break our heart
There was an orange tanned douchebag called Trump
Playing hero on a bicycle pump
When inflating his Ego
Before sorting the Lego
The great wall crushed with a flatulent thump
London BoJo called Muslims a post box
Surely they spread contagion and small pox
We must rule the waves
Or else we'll be slaves
In isolation stranded on dry docks
Blame it on Putin and that Xi Jingpin
Produce a fake red yellow catarrh spin
Those bastards won't mind
Just one of a kind
Virus Vodka in a chop suey tin
Mexicans count their left over last grace
With Europe a mere historical phase
China meets Russia
As fake news' crusher
Xenophobes leave their vile virulent taste
Poets scribe of idiots in power
Just ink on sheets no Ivory Tower
Peace from a kind pen
Once more and again
United in truth and scripted power
05th April 2020
freewill seduces the hand of our action
one eye amused by the world in a spin
another keeps time in a rival trend
dishonorable power feeds a beggars need
moving pieces and pawns for ruthless destruction
the king's pleasure caters misery’s reception
creation a cascading opus of small scraps
the descent of humanity in disarray
we cling to the rule of thumb
the blind will lead the dumb
a hunt astute with catch and release
hope has never worked so hard for the foolish
the sport of chance completes the wish for peace
stalking tyranny to her infinite sleep
the bigger picture keeps us guessing shapes in the sky
holding tight the hand of freedom as we weep
Terry D’Arcy-Ryan
a scratch
a scar
an inscription
carvings
as memorials
gravestones
and walls
of a cave:
I was here
we were here
we lived
we loved
we died
now,no one
remembers
our sighs
our cries
....... our lives
Writ of the wall
It’s not hard— reading writings on wall,
And I too read them well as can all,
And assumed, just like all:
Not for me, not at all;
Right call, right time, and still a miss-call!
____________________________________
Tongue-in-cheek| 13.02.2017 |
Poet's note: The writing on wall, we all know what happens. We read the letters, not the writing, and never its writ, and then miss the buss.
its the fall
new friends
as school begin
also the school ball
it brings all
THE
WRITING ON THE WALL
I have been writing on the walls lately
Scribbling mysterious characters
And spraying them with paint
I carved the Mona Lisa into the bathroom door
And made a sculpture of George Clooney out of toilet paper
I am not sure what all this means
Perhaps I am neurotic
But it seems perfectly normal
To have Brittney Spears T-Shirts by the fireplace
I love Paul McCartney but I thought he was a Beatle
Till that one-legged fiasco cost him his libido.
But I digress, for what holds me in rapture
Is that little teddy bear named Miley Cyrus.
What a wrecking ball she is.
Naked to world, does sin have no shame?
I think that Venus De Milo would grow arms
To strangle that stupid *****
Oh well perhaps I should go back to writing on the walls.
I’ve seen the writing on the wall,
It’s so clear now, I get it all.
These unfriendly voices that I hear,
Are now too much for me to bear.
Friendly smiles I thought them be,
Their deeds belie their pedigree.
They whisper words that ache my soul,
I see from them intentions foul.
Once so calm, I let all slide,
But now no more; that boy has died.
That peeping Tom, so much in need,
Has had his fill of mortal greed.
He’s had his fill, the light has shone
His peeping, longing days are gone.
It’s all too clear, he needs desist
From chasing bonds where none exist.
The island man, standing alone,
He’ll forge his own from blood and bone.
So as I end this honest verse
I shove those bonds up in a hearse.
There was a city of Babylon whom
King Belshazzar ruled...
Till that one night, when he became “fooled.”
“Eat drink and be merry.”
Was the motto of the day!
But God had something else, he wanted to say!
The finger of God reached down
And wrote on the wall!
The prophet of God told the king,
his kingdom would fall!
The king panicked and later that night…
His kingdom fell… Without a fight!
May this be a lesson and a warning to us today!
We need to listen to God!
And what he has to say!
Our country may “enjoy” it’s wickedness and sin!
But one day soon! It will
be coming to an end!
Won’t you allow the writing of God,
to touch your heart’s door?
It was for me and you, that our savior died for!
God loves you more, than you’ll ever know!
He came to earth to redeem your soul!
By Jim Pemberton
The Writing on the Wall
By Elton Camp
Back in the days before the Internet came to be
Folks could only gossip at things they did see
Act bad and there’d be a whispering campaign
It would die down and reputation you’d regain
About the worst that to a scoundrel could befall
Is that your name appeared on the restroom wall
A little soap and water would easily purge it away
But show up on Facebook wall and there it will stay
No matter how much you protest and complain
For years to come, the comment is going to remain
So the very best course for us is simply to do right
But if not, then do what is bad in the dead of night
Be certain not to be seen by either foe or friend
Else, it is on Facebook where the report will end
Locked inside the song
I live to the writing on the wall
I sit and crawl through the halls
Run baby run baby
Woman to child I take nomore
I am the girl inside I now find
I stare to my reflection
A crazyness I fear nomore
Walls closing wiltering my soul
Frozen pain I feel the deepest of cut
Words haunt the innocences of me
Let me go let me go Let me be
Ropes and chains are tight round my neck
I can not breath I can not feel I can be who I want to be
I paint my picture I pretend a vision
You all have no clue
I am to be taken from my mind
A darkness that lights my domain
I scream in silent screams
I live my fantasys through and through
Its space from reality does it show
I see the blackest crow watching to see if I die in my own way
I will not lay down and die I will just be locked away in song
And re write the writing on the wall
I stumbled into a graveyard
And found written upon a stone
"In this place lies the human race,
Who died greedy and all alone"
It was dated Two-thousand and thirty-five
The year that man had died
The tomb was split just a little bit
So I decided to look inside
I saw what will be our future
Or maybe I should say our end
Covered in soil were barrels of oil
And money, too much to spend
I saw miles of nuclear weapons
As far as the eye could see
A place so sublime it was frozen in time
For all of eternity
Bodies lined the inner chamber
A warning to one and all
The price of greed means death indeed
The writing is on the wall
I stumbled into a graveyard
And found written upon a stone
"In this place lies the human race,
Who died greedy and all alone"
Writing on the wall.
by Cate Rock
Writing on the wall:
Eyes shut wrists uncut.
Name spelled out up and about.
Dangerously bloody,
Not your friend not your buddy.
Dressed cold.
A love untold.
Messed up mind.
He learns to unwind.
Kisses sweet kisses.
hate? hate...
Rate debate
do what you need to do
ill stand next to you.
Submission date : 2009-02-27
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