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Best Poems Written by Jerry Swana

Below are the all-time best Jerry Swana poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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God's Love Is Not a Weapon

The church we sought to find a home in no longer exist.
Our courage is strong, our future belongs to temptation consisting sin.

Woods cut and gathered with selfless labor shall provide us a ship.
This is where I realized that Noah was wrong let the story begin....

The bible has been written by other humans and not by god himself,
If that were the case this place we call earth would surely be squashed by his thumb:

If Noah was chosen by the lord himself why wasn't there taken a vote.
Only those true to the cause, who never broken a law are the only ones who can travel afloat.
If you ask me workers with skills, hunters, doctors, and authors had to be put on the boat.

Waves. collided with storm, some fell overboard, and disease killing the most.
This was not a story written down in the bible, it was clearly a religious joke.

Finally a sigh, purely blue sky. God questioned himself an said this must be why.
After the glory of Independence wore off,
cold came with hunger, sickness with coughs.

Prolonged by sinister thoughts.
Tundra frozen softened, by mayflower drops.

Searching for freedom of religion has fueled actions of the devil himself.
Natives survived years beyond measure and offered to help.
Simple measures of using world greatest treasures,
are kind to share if all is replenished.
Rivers provide water to fish, drink, and refresh.
All mother earth asks is to be shared and respected.

In the name of any religion, sins are forgiven
mothers love fathers, and together form children.
God is good, life can be better.
jesus sacrificed his life for happiness of others.

Where did it all go wrong?

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To Whom It May Concern

I walk with a silence to my step,
as if in reality they never took place.
A shadow cast upon what has been done,
evidence misplaced.
Seconds merge into minutes, minutes which remain endless.
Days stand without weeks moments reign endless.
Does the mind play tricks, or do the thoughts stay mine.
Without word spoken, whispered from lips to allowing ears,
lies the moments experienced within the years.

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Almost At the Bottom of It

A friend of a friend is never a friend,
Enemies seem to follow you,
down that dead end.

What’s real?
Love is never pretend,
Well…..love used to be real before text and send.

Love is lust and lust is….trust.
Trust is just love without the fights and fuss.
Is that real? Depends on who’s asking?
Who’s want loves without the passion?

Imagine if love left trust at the alter?
Left love without a father,
And never was there to teach them trust?

Then it’s tough luck,
Dawn to dawn, dusk to dusk.
Without a meaning,
Caught inside a constant state asking what?

I thought you knew?

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Further Is Closer Than You Think

To see or not to see, past the illusion.
Of truth secretly whispered back and forth,
creating confusion.

Shakespeare publicly fought between life and death
for pure amusement.

Within my thoughts, hope's not lost but found,
don't fight with fear use it.

Time is endlessly precious when our soul starts to lose grip.
Loose lips, wondering eyes, curious minds
in search of the light.
Collide in a beautiful place
where I am nothing
connected to everything
real matter cannot be erased.

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Green Is Yellow Mixed With Blue

Through the corner of my eye I see the bride and the groom,
Slowly our corneas make contact I'm the elephant in the room.

A drunken night.
Sex combined with spite.
Makes a tainted marriage,
a fractured life.

"Speak now" said the priest, "or forever hold your peace."
The best man raised his hand and dropped to one knee.

"I can't let you take what is mine, I fell in love with her first
to me she's more than a bride. She's what keeps my hearts beating, she's whats make the sunshine, the air keeping me breathing"

The woman dressed in white looked down than looked right,
at the man dressed in regret, the man with green eyes.

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Life Is Full Circle

My eyes see the sun rise in the east, then set in the west.
It let's me know I have another day left.
To me money means nothing, time is forever priceless.
The truth is what hurts, lies are confessed.

It gets harder to breathe the closer you get to the edge.
It let's me know I have another day left.
The truth is what hurts, lies are confessed
Thought after thought my mind is a mess.

It gets harder to breathe the closer you get to the edge.
To me money means nothing, time is forever priceless.
Thought after thought my mind is making a mess
My eyes see the sun rise in the east, then set in the west.

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So Called Dangerous Minds

They gives a us a voice, but don't want us to speak.
The president's black I bet he doesn't write his own speech.
Words that he speaks come the people that keep in unequal,
D.C. is evil the future is bleak.

Unless among us is a Malcolm X 
All for one and together we're stronger than the rest.
My mother strong ,God is our Father 
Jesus Piece lays on my chest.

Moment of truth what's left to be said,
word is bond
nothing is worth more than respect.
Which needs to be earned 
shots fired so I'm hitting the deck.

Deep in the street cracks is where secrets are kept,
Nikes on the feet of the ones who keep running for checks.
Turnt cheek to the causalities take a deep....
Breath after breath, war between us, love lost in between deaths.

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A Day At a Time

It was my first day of elementary school,
everyone for themselves was the only rule.
Mother would leave you at the bus the stop,
from that point on, it was all or nothing.

Picked up by the bus, then dropped off in front,
Picked on by the older ones all just for fun.
Cutting through chatter of innocent adolescence,
Children scatter as the bell rings,
while teachers take attendance.

I pledge allegiance to the flag, of the United States of America.
And to the republic for which it stands, one nation,
under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for all.

What I learned as a young boy in hope to become a young man,
was to have pride  and be humble and grateful for this land.
I as a man did not experience the struggles of my ancestors,
for every hardship they faced, was for me to live better.

I take nothing for granted,
I refuse to use the word never,
I do what I dream of,
I dream of forever.

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Within Every Picture Is a Story

Silent motion pictures for no one to hear,
Roaring 1922 was the magical year,
Chaplin's fancy mustache grew from ear to ear.
How can motion without sound express love or fear?

Still frames unexposed to the light,
fame within names
cheers within fright.

Til this day a movie screen provides laughter and sadness.
A comedic love story that has to end tragic.

The negative of any captured moment can have a positive feel.
The story may be fictional, but the moments are real. 


-Gerald Moise
-3/23/2015

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Pure Mortal

Memories
Overtime
Remembered
Throughout 
After
Life