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Best Poems Written by Melvin Beckley

Below are the all-time best Melvin Beckley poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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A Land Uknown

O’ my Djibouti you sight nothing like a sky
Your ways far more old than the sea beds
If words be told, why then spoken mute no
If signs be cajoled, your days be flourished
You have seen variant colors, red, blood
But no tune or thy oil land rejoiced thee
And in many forms invoke thy true past
Yet thy splendor culture ever prolong
That even the farthest man urge a visit
My Djibouti when you breathe, thy sand skid
And yet by Allah, you deepen my love
As long as the wind of Joura blows a tune
Your existence will always be in love
Like the years of an unknown star

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Barbarians At the Gate

Take a look at the picture books,
watch the news.
Read about it in the papers
the are fighting out of the blues.

Children are dying,
mothers are weeping
fathers are fighting
till this day i know not why.

Barbarians at the gate
pull up the draw bridge too much war.

Children are suffering
what happened to farming, making fine wine and chanting?
building fine structures and singing sweet tunes.
We say we are civilized
by making weapons of mass destruction,
we say we are civilized by sending children to war.

Barbarians at the gate
pull up the draw bridge and flood the carnal
we cant let them in
they are causing problems for the children.

Barbarians at the gate
open up your bible and say a prayer
cause we are of he who is greater than he who is in the world.

Barbarians at the gate
we have to give thanks and praises to the king of kings.
He is the conquering lion of the tribe of Judah

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A Lover's Joy

Walk side with me to a valley,
And we shall be yonder pleasures of heavens light,
Of whose firmament, hills, groves, shining woods presume wonder.
And we will weight off our feet upon the hills,
Seeing swains tends to their torn flocks,
Quails harping to harmonic tunes,
       	And we shall made mat of Ambrosia,
	With fragrant from Acacia, Aster, Azalea and Arum,
	A hat of Begonia and a Larkspur crème,
        Cross-stich with the bark of yellow birch.
Which through our intimate loving lay rest,
A metal slipper for the snows,
With buckle fashioned from alloyed silver,
An apple from Janna,
  	If suited thee
Walk side with me to a valley.
The tunes of heaven shall we dance,
	A coffee for your morning
If such picture delights thy heart, move
      Walk with me to the valley, and be my Joy.

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The Foes Woman

There she comes
           Way from the Galaxy, she covered her face 
  She never talked, nor Feels
yet, in ever jolt of her presence, pronounce the name of death.
    She is unknown, and will never be known, but her 
            days will ever be disliked.
  She is very slow to anger and realy smile
        and she is called the Women with the Black cover.

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Bleeding Tears.

Weep no more
Cover your sore.
Don't let them know
It pains you so.
You have cried for too long
But I know that you are strong.
Oh! My cup is bitter!

Wake up from your nightmare
And let others share
Of your innocence lost
But bestial satisfaction of their lust
Oh! My flesh is weak!

What madness, what depravity
What sickness, what insanity
Could have led you to kill
Make activity become still?
Oh! Even meek Azzo became a victim!

But arise o my Sierra Leone!
You are not alone!
Rip up your mourning garments
Receive the sacraments
God will return!!!!!!!

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No Beautiful Woman

Sticker in a taxi
NO BEAUTIFUL WOMAN
STAYS WITH ONE MAN
Black, bold on rainbow

I shift the phrase
Like tiles in Scrabble
On the rack of my brain
Trying to spell SENSE

On the dashboard
I spell and check into
The lexicon of truth
The adage is a winnow
With windows in it

I retrieve my tiles
And note FALLACY
In the files

Details | Melvin Beckley Poem

Thunder Storm

It was deep in the middle of a knight night
suddenly,began a blithe  breeze
the breeze of despondent.
it rose,rose heavily  to a terror breeze
the breeze of terror change
the change to a tornado
the tornado of horror in dismayed
the dismayed like  a dead horse,
 that has been suffer a tease
of extremity droplet rain
I turn,turn to the side my infant brother
the brother that is yonder the night of
the world
snoring,turning,oozing like a cat in 
 a party of clamor
only a minute later escalated horrible a blasting
the blasting   in endless time on our soggy zinc
but recently i rapture with fright thinking of the  sleepiest night
the night of commotion
the commotion of unheeding
yet of whome frame my countenance in sorrow
i mumble endlessly in despair at the insane night
mournful i asked to thy helper in subsidition of the mysterious night
pleasant of all humanity  tease the same with me.

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Aweaken Soul

Is this my soul in quartz vision.
Alas my spirit sight
For no man charms, nor the pleasant gifts of Arabia,
Shall please me.
The heat-oppressed brains, the dagger towards my hand,
Failed not.
I shall never assume a blood spill or the wisdoms of an old man,
Neither will I dream of Banquos grave to suite me.
But wonder not, for nature seems dead and man dreams of wicked abuse,
That he cares less a god in palpable form.
Nay to all false creation, for I shall knock the gates of hell and seek the spiteful,
Blades of Satan.
For my enemies shall sorrow as my soul plead for life.
For I shall move the oceans to the rivers, and change the surface of the sky as to 
dust.
Come, come, return my soul and thy days will be numbered.
But failure of an accord, shall rage me anger,
And warning to thee, that my soul sleeps not,
Until the taste of my horrors justify a means.

Details | Melvin Beckley Poem

My Satisfaction of Whome Am I

I am i
 I am the one of my kind 
 I am the one that my satisfaction
 is dwelth to you o' lord almighty,
 to you o' lord almighty, i sing
 song of gratitude for making me 
the way i am.
 to you o' lord almighty i give thanks
for creating me
creating me in you own likings
creating me in fashion mirrow
like a quartz on the surface of
a running river
O' lord  i am happy with the shape of
my  head
fashion as my navigator and director
through the world
Delight with my nose as the passage of 
your air
satisfied with my entire body
of whome am i
satisfied with my skeleton bones
with is content  as the frame attached 
of my flesh
satisfied my short arms,short legs
the legs as my transport through the
distance of the world.
satisfied o' lord for having created.

Details | Melvin Beckley Poem

Once a Child Birth

Once a child birth.
 it is  Saturday,
 a  day of a new life
hardly  in suffering mind
a child once born,
born through abyss detriment
of motor contract expansion
expanding in contract pain voice
the voice in agony pain play
like a sheep playing in the ocean
of glory  laughter 
yet in a state of being a child
mother shout in groan of pain
deliverance
      aah-i can't , i can't
complaining twice, thrice and
congealed in  froze
frozing yonder outside of thy world,
in a sleeping wool of white color
the wool of which her baby lade 
crying endlessly from long way of 
 walked
a baby mother finally relief and
ended kicking the bucket full of water.
but yet cry,shout ,yelled hilaring,commotion
all join in depravity
a child mother no longer dwelth ,nor breath
in the world humans
rather  went to the world of  dead
In hail may her exist in paradise.