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Best Poems Written by Christy Teas

Below are the all-time best Christy Teas poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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Weaver's Beam

A golden weaver's beam in my right hand and white portals is where I stand;
Still and yet moving;
How can this be?
Portals upon portals white and clean.
An open airway with pillars anew;
the golden beam with His footstool far below me.
Higher and higher these portals go;
The weaver's beam let go.
Still and yet moving;
No more.
Clothed with a vail quietly;
Thousands upon thousands of golden weaver's beams begin to fall;
In an array of no form but a circle within a cloud.
My hand stretched and unable to obtain above;
Each side to wide.
Ascending and descending with ease;
among the golden weaver's beams.
Scales of sounds that were never written have shrieks of eagles beaks.
The width of ascending and descending is more than  a pine tree sideways.
As a King writes upon a scroll;
The living waters flow.
Unwritten shrieks and scales unknown.
Beyond more than all of the weaver's beams and pine trees that are not still;
Is the sound of thunder and lightning of old.
Still and yet moving;
How can this be?
Closer and closer the pine tree gets;
Comes a sound that few ever hear.
Clearer and clearer can the Praises of God echo from heaven to me and back again.
By Christy Miller

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Own It

Reality blended
Mocingbird mockingbird sings gay
Tied, bound, ravaged, sold as a slave.
Silenced mouth proclaim
Pounding breast
Find music playing lightly creeps.

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Fire

Flames lick the sole of my foot
Immersions of melting soot
Reagents are called and are few
Engaging sweatshops of New
The intensifying heat
Can only touch darkness seeps
Three in a day they say
Unbound walking around gay
The fire raged in intense anger
A blue ignited inside the framer
And a fire begins eating fire
All is consumed volted wire
Count its worth when the smoke sees
Tender grass puts forth its leaves

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Beauty and Diviersity

A baseball game is fun to watch and cheer
For nine innings are spectators all geared
Pitchers and batters, runners and fielders
Excitement uncontained as umpires yell there
Batter up is the sound pitcher to the mound
The hindcatcher yells the batter Now!
As the batter swings the crack is heard
Foul ball is the umpires voice and final word
Two strikes and three balls while the batter eyes all
The pitch is thrown as the batter swings tall
April 21 2016

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The Traveler

A traveler dwelling among refreshing springs
The busied day was drawing a close
Evening dishes clamored loudly to sing
Outside my door a whipping wind blows

Working to rest a goodnight rest
Again I hear that whipping wind that blows
But wait that's a knocking at my nest
Unexpected to my surprise flows

Looking through I could barely see
Somewhat a human figure stature tall
Towel in hand wondering who this hour be
Might as well take a peek at the call

Opening the door caught aback shorn
His feet were dirty and his sandals worn

His feet were dirty and his sandals worn 
I know its late to call please help me
Living alone in had been forlorned
If I let you in promise and agree

No harm will be done at your hands
His stance changed stepping through my open door
I'm searching for a home in this land
Nervous I became and paced the floor

I really didn't invite him to sit
Gently he passed me by for the chair
May I speak to you upon your permit
At first all I had was a stone glare

But a rush of peace suddenly swings
His garment had no pockets yet clings

His garment had no pockets yet clings
I haven't much but I'll give you
Come here and sit while I bake some things
Where is your family questions were few

The silence I gave him was so strong
Excuse me miss but I must now go
Knowing opportunity forever gone
Wait as my heart best fast but quite low

Holding back tears please stay I'm so sorry
Stopping dead center in front of me spoke
If you will allow me to tell you glory
While he yet spoke of my family I broke

He prayed to God the Father and mourned
His complexion slightly darkened born

His complexion slightly darkened born
We sat at the table and ate our share
I watched him eat and curiously adorned
Pondering how do I help him get there

The meal prepared for a traveler be
I didn't come here for meat and bread alone
In a rage I screamed you spoke agreed
That voice His voice demons be gone

Heavy are not my hands to pain anymore
How can I touch you so you may go free
My jaw clenched tighter than ever afore 
My skin literally crawled set upon edge

This is me no demons now only tears
Thick deep Brown wavy locks at the ears

Thick deep Brown wavy locks at the ears
Little child give me all you have this moment
My eyes still in a blasting firey tears
Traveler you don't know what close it

I made a promise to you and agreed
I can take all of your sorrow and pain
Step toward you To plant a seed
Bruised and marred that's wrongly ingrained

Friend it's not your fault but don't lay blame
I charged him and struck at his solid breast
Pounding and pounding beating his frame
Growing tired of fighting with my guest

I slumped into a shattered place
Unshaven small and high bones of face

Unshaven and small high bones of face
Traveler I don't know who you are for me
I may never know the right way of Grace
But all I've ever wanted kindness seen

It makes me angry and yet longs for touch
Traveler why was I punished beyond my control
Why is it that God says I love much
He loves much he sent me on patrol

What I've done for you can't he undone
I offer it to you go on it's free
The tears now subsided nowhere to run
Sitting beside me in his arms He sees

Leaning my head against his breast dear
Eyes of deep blue never before appeared

Eyes of deep blue never before appeared
In his arms I ask Jesus please don't leave
Upon my forehead he made it clear
Now a small seed is planted to cleave

As I share the rest of my wounded heart
He listens to every detail of my life
With my ear just right I can feel beat
We stand to our feet As before my plight

Two hearts are now one and end to new
As I saw him do I look to God
I'm so sorry God for blaming you
Maybe there is hope in you for God

I'm sorry God that I've learned mad haste
Stature of medium height natural grace

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Apple Tree

On the branch of an old shady oak I sit;
Swinging my legs with nothing but air beneath my feet;
Content am I.
Watching the birds fly;
I sigh.
A stolen Apple from the tree next door;
A bite I take and out it comes;
The sweetness long since gone.
I rear back and let it fly.
One soiled in the grove;
But oh,
How It shined.
Decayed inside working it's way out.
But Alas the seed remains to be trampled into the soil;
Only to sprout when no ones watching,
As quietly it grows.
Now and then I recall,
The day I threw decay away,
As I sit under the shade of my own Apple tree
And spy a small figure stealing an Apple from me.
By Christy Teas

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Spring Flowers

Azalea of new
Bring the cornflower New
Evening Sun absorbed by the Glory of the snow
Calling upon the peach blossom slow
Ever the Lilacs are mixed fair
Dote on the Gerberas over there
Abridge and count petals of a Greater Celandine
Round about the Croas shines
Irises smile
At the Spoonwood for a mile
Nearing the sweet pea as Axalea of New.
April 2016

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Sentinel Old Refuge

A red dirty refuge of old
Such a small Eiffel tower
That draws a force of cold
At a pinnacle not coward.


The drowning sea envelops
From a bottom deep
But collapses at it's feet
Speaks turn away old fella

See the water high and roaring
But notice it's my back I give
Among the dirt washed to the shore
I'll keep you safe so that you'll live

April 5 2016

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The Not So Original Monku Challenge

Drinking the stars blocked by undecided flight.

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Prison Break

Incarcerated;
I only reflected a vapor image of a world I was in.
Enslaved to a master;
Who only gave woe;
Continuously toiling;
Of rest I found none.
Weary and worn I had become.
Friends became enemies and hope turned to despair.
My eyes darkened black as the night;
Shutting out any light.
Overtaken and almost soulless was I;
Trapped by a master who always spoke lies.
The bars on the door only opened a few minutes each day,
Such hurried and busied;
No time to pray.
My speech taken with the very first step through the dark door.
I began to hide within myself,
Locking the door of which only I had the key.
Terrified of what I had become;
A monster.
That could shred anyone who tried to rescue me.
The vapor became so thick I had to feel for the locked door ands search for the key.
Day after day;
Pressed and pushed;
Toiled and enslaved.
Those few minutes when the bars gave way;
A message I was able to convey;
To a man who appeared in front of me one day.
I want to be free.
Please don't forget about me.
Wad all the time I had to say,
Before th master came to lock me away.
Each day I grew more desperate than the day before;
Asking The man to free me;
To carry the message to a far away shore.
Knowing if I was to ever be caught trying to leave the master would behead me.
One final day the man appeared unto me.
He opened the door and set me free.
The onslaught of my life continues and my head is forever saught by the foe.
But braver am I when I hand Jesus my keys and He rescues someone just like me.
By Christy Teas