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Michael Ramel Poem
You are a brother
And a son, special gifts
For you are known, shown
You are a child
And a man sang "Kumbaya"
"Come by here, O' Lord"
As if to forecast
His love to a family
You held together
In its time of need
Things amazing this poet
If you did know it
You a gift from God
As only He could style
As He opens wide
His arms you greet Him
with your smile, His chile
Be free now Billy
Copyright © Michael Ramel | Year Posted 2024
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Michael Ramel Poem
I try to escape
From you there's no place to hide
Following me inside
I rub my eyes twice
You walk through walls like a ghost
How do I let go?
Along comes silence
And the prison that that brings
Time to think of things
Got to get on home
Fell down the well beaten path
Fallout aftermath
If you can’t catch me
Don't just stand there, walk away
In cadence of gait
Sinners and saints
Struggles writhing in my head
Are you really dead?
All this in my head
Old and new batt’ling in dreams
Awake from what seems
Copyright © Michael Ramel | Year Posted 2024
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Michael Ramel Poem
You were gazing at me as I looked in your direction
You, caught in reverie and a daydream reflection
Both of us wondering if we've made a connection
As you stand with your friends by your locker
As both of us are caught up in this moment
Both wondering if the other one knows it
Both wondering if the other will show it
Having our love listed on the docket
You writing our names on your notebook
In a heart our names, in your mind nuptials took
Me stealing your heart like some kind of crook
As you lean back on your book nook
I saunter over, parting your friends
I fumble for words, my heart beats intense
I manage to muster these words in defense
"You've captivated my heart with just a look!"
Copyright © Michael Ramel | Year Posted 2025
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Michael Ramel Poem
Anna Belle 1619 (Part One)
She set out to Jamestown in 1619
She's a Nordic ship on the sea
She's purple in shades in streams
She bathes in the Caribbean breeze
She needs no bard's flattery
No barroom cajolery
Only God with His love sets her free
Along the Levant coast, Aqaba, and Red Sea
My Shulamite who longs for me
She whispers softly, a euphony
Her chestnut flowing glory
Cascades oh womanly
And shaded for only me to see
A music-box dancer
Flawless she prances
Her beauty captured in Renaissance fancy
Reciting "I do"
My bride in June
My beloved in truth
As we walk together towards God
Anna Belle MMVI (Part Two)
Streetlights lead the way from home
Into the distance I drift and and I doze
Off to sleep where I meet Anna
On the coastal retreat out on the veranda
I hand her a poem and it reads:
Anna Belle
You have a lover's light
It is a beacon to this traveler's eye
You are grace and life
A sunburst shining Christ
Luminosity on this day which God has made
I m-i-s-s-i-s-s-I miss your kiss
When you're away
She sighs, what a look in her eyes
I desire to know as she ponders each line
In her heart unfurling more woes
A cascading of tears and hopes
Holding hands, we share our dreams
Of a journey together, the valleys the peaks
Our eyes meet, we momentarily hesitate
Then univocally say "You are my soul mate"
Goodbye Anna Belle (Part Three)
Preacher by day, poet by night
This hero's weakness is iron pyrite
A ship among ships
I sail on by moon eclipsed
No stars or astrolabe
To navigate me me towards my babe
The captain of the Eternity
Has set course and ushered me out to sea
With memories of her and dreams of home
I seek the shore in the sad poem
As I roam and comb Rome
I see faces from pages I've written in tome
Familiar, I see her everywhere
In the euphemistic flower and cascading hair
I ponder the thought of all thoughts
Why did Jesus endure the path and the cross
Out of love, a love that leads step by step
Through a mystery of enigmatic depths
I say my goodbye in this melancholy ode
I mourn, but not as one with no hope
Copyright © Michael Ramel | Year Posted 2024
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Michael Ramel Poem
A.I. is not satanic
It’s algorithms
What is evil
Is what you do with’em
Algorithms are not
Presuppositions
AI is reliant on its maker
But Pressup's are reliant on The Maker
There is no place
For A.I. in heartfelt poetry
While you may have symmetry
You don’t and won’t have em-oetry
You know silly made up things
Like Dr. Suess’s terms
And emotional poetry
And a lot of F words
Modern machinery
Can't duplicate man’s brain-ery
Can A.I. touch nuance
Or personal subtlety?
Copyright © Michael Ramel | Year Posted 2024
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Michael Ramel Poem
Sometimes it is hard to see God’s grace
Sometimes all I can do is be obedient with a smile on my face
Sometimes I can’t count it joy
Sometimes I become annoyed and annoy
Sometimes God in the cleft is His placement of place
Sometimes we will be exiled to isles
Sometimes the ashen gray of walls in cells
Sometimes I need Gilead’s balm
Sometimes I need to pray a psalm
God protects us with His wings or His angels
Sometimes as the Apostle John
Hetoimazo atimazo hyper ton Theon
Sometimes as the Apostle Paul
And Jeremiah during Jerusalem’s fall
God will always provide the proper direction
A way out He will always provide
If our will with God’s will coincide
To think His thoughts after Him
To bring all our struggles and cares to Him
Enduring as a soldier or Christ’s bride
The exile of a writer is God’s protection
To head in His direction
Of course, we are all sinners fallen short
Accused continually in God’s court
Remember this is under God’s discretion
Sometimes see that God is graciously
Protecting you even if confined spaciously
From others and ourselves
Searching the depths, the Spirit delves
Advancing one and the many patiently
Copyright © Michael Ramel | Year Posted 2024
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Michael Ramel Poem
Bring your sin and the ugliness within
It’s all we bring: our part of the equation
But He quickens us to Christ
This Desire of every nation
The ingredients found in the preparation
Is the recipe for God’s vindication
It’s more than a metaphor
It’s an intimate union prepared by the Lord
And as we doubt and fall, sinking as did Peter
Let us cry out to our Overcomer and Leader
(And daily we need our Savior because of our behavior)
“Mein Körper und mein Blut” says Martin Luther
But it’s more than just elements
But we have faith (and sin we exchange)
For our development
(It’s a spiritual imbibing of Jesus Christ
Needed for the Christians ambling through this life)
Myriads and myriads of angels
Descending and ascending on Jacob’s Ladder
For periods and periods in eternal life
We will live this faith (with each other), and for our Master
(In closing hear the pastor’s call, to all)
The Law and The Gospel, they work in tandem
As the Old Testament puts the baton in the New Testament hand
This is our faith that’s not contrary to reason
Even as we walk together with The King of the land
Copyright © Michael Ramel | Year Posted 2025
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Michael Ramel Poem
I love the way
She courts each page
With poetic sensuality
I intently await
Each seductive phrase
As her words saunter in front of me
Only a heart
This large
Could be as vulnerable as she
Is she a goddess?
A work in progress
As her heart bursts open in her poetry
Make love to me
She says repeatedly
Make love on this page with me
We'll whisper words
Intimately only heard
We are on the same page, collapsing ecstasy
Copyright © Michael Ramel | Year Posted 2024
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Michael Ramel Poem
I was created
in the image of God, I
Imago Deo
But I am in a
class of my own, I am a
Mathematical
set of one, we all
are a token, Socrates
or me and yes, you
I am a type, which
belongs to a class, but still
I am in a class of
My own, the class
Class identity of me
I think therefore I
Am (it’s not a good
Translation from the Latin)
Cogito Ergo
Sum, even though it
begs the question, it is a
Cartesian set
Je pense, donc je suis
In French, cogitatio fit
Thinking, occurring
Would better describe
this mess, but how would one prove
somebody’s thinking?
Brainwaves? Synapses?
So, we are all in a class
Of our own (imaged)
Philosophically
Personal identity
Is not an option
To a worldview
That is consigned to matter
And motion, no potion
No cerebral bend
Or mental gymnastics can
Account for abstract
Entities, such as
Identity over time
In a class its own
Copyright © Michael Ramel | Year Posted 2024
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Michael Ramel Poem
You standing there looking so innocent
and sexy, biting your lip
Smiling so guile-y and your hair
Cascading around your face
Over your shoulders and styled by JBF
You standing a bit awkwardly your legs
falling from my flannel shirt
And smooth as hell, your feet up on the balls
as if in high heels
Flexing in anticipation and a devilish grin
With a "What me?" delectation
It's not a skirt it's my flannel shirt
And you with your post coital giggle
A splash of bawdy and a hint of naughty
and looking muy caliente
With my eyes I take you in as you take
my breath away
Copyright © Michael Ramel | Year Posted 2024
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