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Best Poems Written by Keisha Davis

Below are the all-time best Keisha Davis poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

Details | Keisha Davis Poem

Waaaake Uuuuup!
is what i heard for this generation
time is on their hands
but death is on their faces.
And time is definately not waiting, on anyone.
And so your American alarm tic- toc spoke to you
It said wake up! and do what you are supposed to do
It said "You need to get your hair done, wash your car, walk the dog, and you have not even broken through.
It said the sheets are wrapped snuggly holding you while the enemy keeps speaking to you that hope is through.
Wake up! it said.
Yes, this kind of alarm sounds nice.
But what about the alarm that rings to remind you to, Waaaaake Uuuup!
For God has chosen you.
It's a different sound.
And we open our eyes only to remove the cole from them.
Not knowing that God wants to remove the scales.
Many believe that they have a lot of time
but honestly, only time will tell.
And we dare not miss the call.
He that hath an ear, let em hear it.
We keep hitting the snooze button, when there should be
fear and trembling within our spirit.
(Alarm) Arise and shine!...10 more minutes they say.
(Alarm) Renew your mind! 9 more minutes they say.
(Alarm) These are the signs of the time..5-more-minutes
and this generation will miss its moment with God.
Time! time! time, time..is slipping away
but death has not gone astray.
It is still painted upon their faces.
It could be temporary for some, if many would decide to arise
and become like death-erasers.
No more lying in complacencys bed.
It's time to arise and stretch out our legs
People are asleep with the dream of God in their heads
but no manifestations.
Only relaxation.
While the world is slowly fading
with sick and unsaved patients.
Wake Up!
Is what i heard for this generation.
And there are many worldly alarms.
I said there are many "worldly" alarms
And the world responds to them like..
"Oh my gosh, im going to be late for this and that"
But God is trying to awaken us to his plans and purposes
so that the world might know that this is that.
No more visions in my mind
of people pulling the covers over there eyes
as if we cant see their needs.
No more of people walking by, replying to me
Leave me alone! for i am sleep.
No more rolling back over on their crys for help, while they cry out
"Free my soul! For i'm a sinner!
No more of us turning our ringers off for just 5-more-minutes.
Do you not know? That the bed bugs are still biting you while you're in it?
So wake up! to the grace of God.
We, must seek his face.
For Time! time! time, time..is slipping away.
Awaken.

Details | Keisha Davis Poem

Faith-Ful

I must be one. For there are few.
Living to give myself to you
Putting all of it in the Truth.
My faith.
Once a close mate with hate
But now faith lies in Love.
Your love.
If I scratch the surface to see what lies beneath
I only look to find more.
Knowing that it’s the very core of your essence.
Kiss me with thy presence and I’m stuck.
Let me be one.
Knowing the Son as few can.
No man is as faithful as you.
And who can match thy commitment. 
Never ending. Long distance. 
So I run, because there are few that do, but I’ve said I do.
So I run.
To cling to what has clung to me.
It’s the song you’ve sung to me
I am persistently being called aside.
In you it hides.
My faith.
Let’s be draped with this sweet escape
I must please you.
You must declare well done.
May you be second to none, for I must be one
Leaning on my lover in a garden.
Say, and I’ll obey
You don’t forsake, so I won’t stray
I want to see, clear out the grey
I sought, I prayed
And scratching even beneath the surface
I find you, unchanging. Bridal chamber.
Preparing to stay one.
Wanting to be faithful.

Details | Keisha Davis Poem

Wisdom

I’ve been wise in my own eyes. Intellect.
 	Eyes shut not wanting to let light interject, and it’s dark.
	I can’t see, thus I’m sent walking with a blindfold.
	And I hold, my own understanding.
	Landing in the palace of pride. 
	Remove this log from my eye
	I beg freedom
	Wanting to leave simple ways behind me.
	The days that you’ll find me walking in understanding.
	Acknowledging a sacred friend.
	Wisdom. I invite you in.
	Would you make yourself at home while I agree to your decisions.
	I’m ready to give you my mindset
	Shatter it and cut with great precision.
	Welcome. You’re altogether wise, and I’m not.
	How we’ve hung time and again before 
	But now I open up the door because I need more
	And I’m tired of caressing a counterfeit. Logic.
	And I can’t see.
	So you point me towards my table
	Asking for a rag to wipe off these affections.
	Now that it’s clean, you set before me your correction
	First lesson. She says, you must eat right,
	For my mouth speaks what is true.
	I talk, you listen. I rebuke, you move.
	So I pay attention.
	In yielding to her precision while she cuts.
	Pride steady screaming this sucks, but I must hear.
	So I draw near.
	Not knowing if I’d be left breaking with tears
	But I’ve invited you
	You’ve wanted to speak with me but I’ve had walls
	Those in which you’ll now bring down
	So I stand as light interjects, setting the table with freedom.
	Folly and pride, I don’t need them
	I need you. Stay with me.
	Make wise my heart.

Details | Keisha Davis Poem

Self Portrait

I’ve painted a picture
High yellows and deep purple.
Erasing the blues.
Though I can’t hide from them, because inside of them,
Lies context clues.
They keep popping up on my canvas, as if it’s some news
I owe you’s, saying I can’t loose
So if the picture was written
I would read between the lines.
But I see between the paint.
Longing for a deep enough red and then
I sought and found one.
Fingers caught stuck between the brush
As if I’d know the outcome
I want to be done
Light shades that could symbolize a sun
Intrigued with the scene
But even as the hand strikes green
One notices that it’s never what it seems
So I hold my hand against my heart and try to finish
And think as surely as there was a beginning
There’s going to be an ending
Making vows to a happily ever after picture
But what happens when the blues begin to shift you creating mixture?
I would tear it up, but knowing that I would miss you, I refocus my attention and continue to stick with you
Arts and crafts on my path
Not knowing when I will be through with it
I’m not new to this, plus I don’t want to loose.
This vision.
Even though there’s I owe you’s behind the painting
They are hidden
Though I knew them to be true
There was still a compromise collision
Clocks ticking and I’m becoming intimate with this masterpeice
A dreamy artist I am.
As I plan to stand to finish the outline
I’m at once disturbed by what I heard and should I say
By what I saw
Like the voice of one speaking, within a picture of something I didn’t draw
Sort of disturbed but enlightened
My senses became heightened at the sight of it’s bright gold and deep red
Trying to depict between the lines what was read or being said
But it’s not so self explanatory.
So I asked the creator of it for it’s meaning
It was revealed what was the real deal
Awakened me from my daydreaming
Silenced my paint strokes
Provoked me to see my idol worship
The Truth within the lies, His canvas compared to mines, and vice versa.
I’ve been the mastermind for too long
But he came and presented colors I’ve never seen
And the colors spoke my life is not my own
Something that’s so supreme
And I wonder, what am I going to do
I notice that this picture has less blues
With more clear I owe you’s.
Think twice, and I want to be through with what I’ve created.
Didn’t sign it or date it, finally dropping the brush.
This vision, his vision, is better.
Being able to remove my hand from my heart.
Vows severed.
I was intrigued.
And it was free to afford it.
Freely give, I received, becoming the will of his portrait.
Beauty.
The artist. Submits.

Details | Keisha Davis Poem

Love's Season

The leaves turn and it’s the season of Love
The gates open and it’s the reason for floods
We want an outpouring!
To be lavished by his spirit, it’s the coming of the Holy
We must know thee and be drenched
Not looking to pitch tents or to cool the fire with vents
But to burn for HE who was and is to be sent
I must look for him. You must come!
Romance. Flute. War cry. Drum.
And we wait. An overshadowing faith.
There’s a living portion waiting for the dead to take
It’s in the river. We must not escape.
Drape us with your wineskins.
Not torn but fit for what’s inside them
His joy is our strength and we must find him
Those blinded by cares of the world, 
Only to see his blinding light.
Reviving us to sight. We must see you
Never will we be you
So may we submit to the turning of the leaves
It’s the season of Love.
Infillings of hearts, many healings by the blood.
Break us shake men’s hearts
The start of a new thing.
Mouths open to fed prayers and praises of our King.
Sing, again. 
Dream.
We want an outpouring!
Walking under Open Heavens.
I hear the words of The Life.
Live and not die, so saved by the Christ
Take us up.
Father, there’s a longing for communion.
It’s the season of Love
And the leaves do turn.

Details | Keisha Davis Poem

Close

I want to be with you, where you are
So close.
Close like the day your hands formed me in that woman’s womb
So close.
I can only be in one place at one time
But you shine, Omni-presently.
This heart inside of me screams more of you and less of me 
And therefore I must search for you.
Therefore I must search for you.
Those that seek him with all their hearts will find him
In the midst of silence, turmoil, and violence
There’s this stillness.
And though there’s a stillness, it grips me.
To have faith and believe
That if I wait, then I would see, my God.
My God.
And so I’m standing in the midst of atmospheres un-shifted
But I shift, believing that it would bring me closer to you.
I reach out…
My hands into the winds..
My heart, hoping to draw you in..
My song, sung into the distance to the one I’ve met.
Sung to the one I’ve met.
Looking around me, these things surround me, but have I touched you yet?
My flesh is not speaking but my spirit is seeking 
And I want to be with you where you are.
I can only be in one place at one time
But you shine, Omni-presently.
And I’ve been searching for you
Finding you to be 
So close.

Details | Keisha Davis Poem

The Oil

Awaiting at intimacy’s door 
Something waits on the other side.
For companionship.
An eternal company but temporary for those that grieve it
It strays. Consecrate!
That thou would enter into the door.
Covenant.
Requirement for communion.
Let me in and turn the lock.
Safety from worldly enticements and I must dwell within.
One enters and meets the friend, of Aaron’s beard.
One fresh for the death that it might rest.
I’m enticed. 
Sacrifice.
The friend for a narrow life.
Who has met and lived in unity with thee, but one of humility?
Enter me and make us one. 
How I saw that it runs and flows down, it sends me
Through moments of awakening unknown fibers within me
I’m drawn.
For many have awaited intimacy’s door
Being welcomed by the presence.
Carrying that which welcomed them, and its essence.
And it drips.
From truth’s lips and Holy gifts. 
Receiving the tangible.
A friend sticking closer than a brother
Breaking through, protecting me, cloaking me like a cover. 
Authority. 
Walking with I Am.
The saturation of wisdom’s realm.
And breaks the yoke
Be cleansed as laundrers soap would
Going about tied away with speaking and doing good
More fire for the wood, and it accompanies a generation with light.
Prepares your fingers to fight.
Unveiling to usher sight.
Be not at the door with not enough of it.
For the foolish virgins did not enter
Consecrate! Covenant. Authority.
Running from heads down.
Being behind intimacy’s door
Having met the awaited one.
Becoming a carrier, of
The Annointing.