Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Melissa Wessel May 2023
I stand at the shore of an ocean
vast, uncrossable waters
between me and my salvation
I could swim, but for how long?

how long before my limbs give out
my lungs searing in my chest
metal in my throat
salt in my mouth

so I stay on the shore
(metal in my throat
salt in my mouth)
feet on the ground
My Dear Poet May 2023
Maybe, all we need to do
is put our pens down
The poets painted

Maybe, all we need to do
is place our drums away
The drummers danced

Maybe, all we need to do
is lay our shoes aside
The dancers wrote

Maybe, all we need to do
is return our books back
The writers sang

Maybe, all we need to do
is keep doing what we do
The king cried
The living shall worship 🛐 thy Lord as the Angels adore Him on the throne. Off their faces with their golden crowns 👑+ bowing down. Their songs is hallelujah, 🙌 glory, giving holiness, admiring the everlasting living being. Who made heaven is holy place of abode. Make audible roaring, let the pillars of heaven tremble, and the waters surrounding the universe from the peak of heaven shallow down the depth of sea bowing🙇 before His presence Every powers and knees worship, 🛐 before his presence, glory, salvation, healing, blessing, devine favor, love, peace, life hove in His presence, sing melodiously shout excellently even with poetry, sing palm unto thy Lord who is worthy, on whose hands lies everythang. Holy, holy spirit, holy is thy Lord Almighty God. Blessing be the name of thy Lord God. Amen! 🙏
Palm Sunday inspiration.
Ken Pepiton Mar 2023
C'est oui, paste away, we make do, duty calls
Le Bourgeois gentilhomme
(French pronunciation: ​[lə buʁʒwa ʒɑ̃tijɔm],


From the troves of our public domain,
what did you wish you had known,
when you had that chance
at Jeopardy, one chance,
if a wish were truly wished,
we occur to some as riverwise twisted

fibers from longer ago than local time science
allows, you suppose allowing belief with reason,

cause of pain is pain relief, loser role attained,
proof of past trauma drama as collect sets. Points.
Scoring. Exact.
Past out act/ Bam/slap play slips into Chris Hart,
o we all recall him, he did that slapping body music,
and did not comb his hair for a year or so,
-not him, the kid from Orm, the dean's kid.
so in your reader mind, you have a few clues, times
and seasons seen from distant bubbles still,
- Reagan's daughter attended Orm. Datafact.
time slips, mental lubricant for safe letting.
All forms go out be come standard, it is the object.

Like that, or this, to ways to sense make and so
many more point from which one may choose to see.

McLuhan bolted, as I learned the ropes and gears
years ago, a kind of ******* in and out,

with pressing walls, closing in and teeny, tiny holes,
shine so bright as day explodes camera obscura,

on the inner wall on the backside of our eyes,
mindtimespace stirred into a foam,
the old saying, put a head on it, meant something
to sailors in the beer commercials.

I got advice from Ziggy's therapist {that's amindscrew}
in the funny papers, we all saw the truth freeing
knowledge that everyone knows,
nobody is as happy as people in beer commercials.
From a lost crossed thread, that stareted near here. Tis in the midst of this
Zywa Feb 2023
Father is buried,

there is more light now, the sky --


is so much wider.
"Het Bureau - Het A.P. Beerta-Instituut" ("The Office - The A.P. Beerta-Institute", 1998, Han Voskuil), page 45

Collection "Not too bad [1974-1989]"
'I'll live with Thee and be Thy love,'
I said to God, who, as a dove,
Did build a Nest within my Heart,
And who from me shall ne'er depart.

He gardens, farms, and tends a flock
Of silly sheep of spotless stock;
Secure beneath the Shepherd's gaze,
The sheep do roam and safely graze.  

He made for me a robe of wool,
The finest wool that He could pull:
It's snowy white, like Winter's breast:
In spotless wool He hath me drest.  

He makes the Sun to rise and shine,
And turns the fruit of life to wine,
And shares the Vintage when we sup,
And fills, and fills again, my cup.

For Him I sing a song that's new,
Falero, lero, lero, loo!
I pluck a string, and raise my voice,
And always in the Lord rejoice.

My true love hath my heart, and I
Have His, because I heard on high
His wooing voice, which did me move
To live with Him and be His love.
Compare 'The Passionate Shepherd to His Love' by Christopher Marlowe
David Hilburn Feb 2023
Needless, pose a question:
Miracles save themselves...
Long in the tooth, looking for a blessing
Worlds to weigh, with the voice of what delves?

Minus the stone
The rue of visits and cares...
To awaken in the arms of harmony
History to a dare, to lend the kindness of what fares?

Special...
And doted upon, like a dream can feed...?
The spareness of speed in the eye, of what will
To sakes aled, and meant, to be the end of all in heed...

The pout of summation, to which we will know intimation?
Praises be, cares see, the coming order to a least...
At worthy faces, in a common hope, to live the life of sin?
Like a weary lover was, the only force of decency to cease...

Of a silent offer, of season and risk...
To these calls of opportunity, the mated chance
Of cause curious, and questioning the weight of a reason's wish
Paced with the passion of deliberateness, is a wish a saving, romance?
For cares and mystiques sayer, all set in a polite circle...
Out of the night that covers me,
     Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank my God, King Christ, for He
     Has come and conquered, O, my soul.

Clutched by a fate that's felt like chance,
     I've winced and wept and cried aloud.
Under the gaze of God, my stance
     Is on my knees.  My head is bowed.

Beyond the place of wrath and tears,
     Where Death casts shadows, shade on shade,
The menaces of bygone years
     Are disappeared.  My debts are paid.

My gait's as strait as heaven's gate,
     My way as narrow as a scroll.
Christ is the master of my fate.
     Christ is the captain of my soul.
Compare 'Invictus' by Ernest Henley
Zywa Dec 2022
A plunge in the night,

all I can see is a hat --


on the bridge railing.
"E due!" ("And another one!", 1901, Luigi Pirandello)

Collection "After the festivities"
Next page