Writings On The Wall Poems | Examples

List of Member Poems

Premium Member A Poet Born


I never intended to be a poet I just liked to write,
      ever since a child I was scribbling on paper;
at that age nothing really made much sense,
          but, I liked them and taped my writings on the wall.

Well, mother did not like my method of display,
       so, I was given a journal and I wrote and wrote;
in time those scribbles became sentences,
          and eventually poems and stories about my life.

My grandma the family storyteller encouraged me,
      she told me write, write so the world will see, and I did;
and do, she was my mentor and my best support,
           she believed in me and so did both my parents.

When, I am sad and full of grief, I write it,
      I find expressing my feelings on paper is a release;
a thousand times it seems I have written of my mother
           and her death, but it is still a raw emotion.

At the Edge of the Cliff

They have told us the consequences of our actions,
We have been told about the trailing reactions,
We turned deaf ears,
Our insatiable desires have ruled us,
Our voracious longings have
 chauffeured us to plunder her home,
We take more than she can give,
We take and leave little,
We rely on the law of replenishment,
Inadvertently bringing to bear our punishment,
We decimate her home,
Leaving her frail and bare, 
She cries out for help,
She tells us to read the writings on the wall,
She tells us to ponder on the meaning of the words,
She tells us to consider the impending troubles,
That gloom will bring,
We say we don’t mind taking the fall,
For there'll be a season of rejuvenation,
Her hands will bear us before we stumble,
Oblivious to the fact that we have weakened her hands,
We stand at the edge of the cliff.



February 14, 2023.

Haunting

 Haunting 

the room’s a mess.

the ouija’s in pieces.

the writings on the wall don’t even make sense anymore.


yet you grin lovingly,

 leaving behind that gunk as a trail. 
  {your ectoplasm’s a nightmare to clean}


our dining table’s translucent, 

as you’ve instructed.

the food, hardly intact.

Yet you play with your food, as you’ve done so my innards.

 [Explain. Why should I be the one to suffer, an immeasurable; when you’re the one I’ve seen suffer, THE IMMEASURABLE]


Midnight Is

Midnight is dwelling at 
the Midnightboundary of two worlds,
With one encroaching on the other,
 Fighting to cloak it.

Midnight is standing at the centre of a coliseum,
Amid so many voices,
Crowding the mind,
Flooding the thoughts.

Midnight is going through a cabinet of files,
Permuting and shuffling,
They keep going back to their former state,
Mystery spells the day.

Midnight is going on a voyage,
The waves beat vehemently on the boat,
The weather changes intermittently,
Sunshine’s hands are feeble.

Midnight is seeking answers in the sacred book,
It tells us to persevere but
 doesn’t take the weight entirely off,
It beams its light on a road that seems endless.

Midnight is trying to decipher the writings on the wall, 
They’re sometimes too blurry,
They're sometimes too inky, 
They sometimes interface.



September 11, 2022.
2022 Poetry Marathon Mile 14 Poetry Contest,
Mark Toney.

Friendad

Friendad
The son of my father, indeed I am
To fondly unforget, one never can
And please don't think he was just an old man
That sadly lived and died without a plan

Most often at the breaking of each day
He sought to know what God would say
I wake to find him on his knees to pray
That I might be like him and faithful stay

The words he spoke are truth I can recall
As vividly as untimely leaves fall
When all I see are trees left standing tall
That I could read the writings on the wall

He worked so hard each day his hands would ache
And yet kept on for his family's sake
But for his child, he'd always take a break
To spend some time for happy memries make

And now he's gone, I am feeling sad
I wish to see and talk with him so bad
The cares of life is driving me mad
Yet still I thank my God I had a dad

In days gone by, I wish they never end
In my distress, his wisdom he would lend
He cared enough to help my faults to mend
And always there from all my foes defend

My God is good to give such perfect blend
I'm blessed to have a father for a friend.

A Heart Knows

I’ve asked myself this question
Now for thirty years
If the writings on the wall
Why isn’t it more clear

How’s a man supposed to go on
Always asking why
What’s meant to be always seems
To somehow pass him by

Cause a heart knows
Where it’s soul
Was always meant to be
And this heart knows
Just where it’s
Supposed to be 

Every breath we breathe apart
Is one less that we’ll share
Every feeling that goes unsaid
Leads to pain and despair 

We keep playing hide and seek 
From the fantasy 
That’s bound our souls from the very start
This wanting you is easy it’s the distance
That’s tearing me apart

Cause a heart knows
Where it’s soul
Was always meant to be
And this heart knows
Just where it’s
Supposed to be 

Yes this heart knows just where it’s 
Supposed to be...


Premium Member Come On Into Righteousness--

Calling all Sinners to righteousness;
Stop! What you're doing;
You know it ain't right;
Put your shoes on,
 and walk into the blessedness;
It's not nice, not right;
Come on over to the right ;
Just stop what you're doing,
And be blessed to see me;
To get out clean come on into to come on come on,
Into the light to righteousness;
Stop playing;
Come onto Christ's righteousness;
To the lights
Come on into come on to righteousness;

8/3/11
Written words by James Edward Lee Sr  2011,  2020
I'm Anthology  " The Writings On the Wall "

Premium Member Writing An Acrostic--

Writing An Acrostic 

Warm Warm spell imply spells  written represent secrets on paper, tablet, and or stone.


Royal Royal favours recommend favours lead beacons wavered under cover.


International International interests institutions increase institutions indite ledgers’ cloned.


Traditional Traditions of scripts ignore scripts gazette top-secret matters splatters ink slops unrecognizable.


Identical Identical wordings follow word formulate DNA transcripts yet still top-secret.


National International institutions write institutions write encoded notes scramble up.


Greatest favours facilitate greatest flavors encourage transgress thoughts.


Writings on the wall or not?
...
.







08/19/19
Written by James Edward Lee Sr. 2019©

Premium Member The Bewitching

bracelets on doorknobs
ectoplasmical goo on the floor
chanting tinkling music
lifeless creatures arranged in a circle
round a book of verse
curtains yanked from their moorings
broken glass
muddy footprint trail
undecipherable writings on the wall
books ripped apart, their pages floating on the air
drawers open their contents vomited out
closets spilling everything
all about chaos and mayhem reign in dizzying derision

What's happening?
Poltergeist or spell,
Which is it?

It's just my darling granddaughter here for a visit!

I Had a Reason Not To Make a Rime

Oh, to read 'em now,
those writings on the wall,
poems, parodies of Poe and Pound,
stuck there with jam, back then.
Ah then! Carefree and footloose,
students of literature and art!
Life was so easy. we didn't care a bit.
(I had a reason not to make a rime).
Bob wrote fatuous lines about some man
"who flitted from corner to corner
of his misspent life" How apt.
Back then! We mocked both Heaven and Hell!
Then Bob's just broken-off engagement ring,
melted down, drip-drip, till nought was left
but some base alloy black and drab.
Bob talked to some imp, (or was it Puck?)
perched where walls and ceiling meet,
He said he did, who cares that much.
(I had a reason not to make a rime).
We mocked life, now life mocks us.

To read 'em now, those writings on the wall!

Premium Member Could You Pray For Me

Hey! brother
I've noticed that you talk to God
could you pray for me
could you send up a conversation all about me
I've have failed the Lord our God miserably
Please pray for me
And you see in to the Lord
and you talk to Him profusely
And you're not ashamed to speak His name
In private or in a room full of human beings
Publicly nor privately well could you send up a prayer for me
In Jesus name
could you pray for me
In Jesus name
I don't believe or think He would hear me 
To the heavenly Father I don't think it would be a bother well could you send up a little
Prayer
Now you have two knees could you bend down and use one for me
To send up a praise for me
Because you're not ashamed to speak His name
Amen

from anthology "The writings on the Wall"
James Edward Lee Sr.
08/03/11

It's Like a Jungle Sometimes

It's Like A Jungle Sometime,

straight to the heart we get a brand new start

 

Shooting pool down at the bar

Sipping on the Cool Aid watching those honey's

 

Say you have to act your age

but what do they know

 

Surfing the web looking for my next fix

Drifting into dreams filled with evil schemes

 

Loose lips sinks ships take some time to move those hips

We once were young now were old

 

You will do what you are told until the rights to you are sold

Breaking down on the cement floor

 

Flirting with my blunt haven't even made a dent

Women will make or break you

 

The writings on the wall

Standing up straight like ten feet tall

 

The world is my oyster and I'm still it's shiny pearl

Suffer in silence like pleasure with a boy on girl

 

Going to reach the top

Grabbing the hips down to the socks

 

Not sense the days of Scott Larock

Got to write things down

 

No use hanging your head down to the ground.

Wall of Pain

Wall of Pain

Date: Tue, Feb 2 2016 at 9:28 PM

Blood on the Walls Stained
Drained
On the Wall of Pain
History, Memories And Shame
Rage Engraved on the Writings on the Wall

Writings On the Wall Bc To Ad

Words were not enough to explain the ancient stories that came before,
Beyond the slightest imagination of what took place during times of mixed truths,
Written by those who were lucky to read and write.
Decided before time seemed to matter,
belonged a vague cave illustration about right and wrong.

Lost in-between translations
from Egyptians to jews,
paintings within the cave only there to amuse.
In hidden language between the lines that rise the whole truth.

The pyramids built on the labor of slaves,
proves hard work and sacrifice shall forever remain. 

Writings on the wall from tombs to public bathrooms,
proves most opinions expressed is nonsense that's not true

Premium Member Writings On the Wall

In the land where pyramids rise
   An ancient language grew
 Pictures were words in disguise
   No letters for a clue
 These picture and symbols were known as hieroglyphs
  They were written on the walls 
 And it took quite a while 
   To decode these ancient scrawls

 When hieroglyphs meet holograms
  It's an illusion you will see
  They will seem to float in the air
   And it's an image in 3D
  Holograms can be computer generated
  To show any scene you please
   Even scenes that don't exist
 Can be created with these
                     ----
 4/22/16

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