The struggles and challenges are real
Go forth in the upcoming years
Have no fear but many cheers
Gather strength by accepting the right deal
The deal is give up or fight
For me the end of the road is in sight
There will be delight in the light
Hold Tight
oh
lord
what
wisdom is yours
what
power and grace
the
Lord
possess inside
still
what
is my query
the
living beauty
that
she possesses
still
locked in her
hazel green eyes
i
know
nothing more
than
to say
that
i
love her so
and
i
want to marry her
when
early morning comes
thus
i
will
i
must
i
shall go forth but run to her
There is bounty to be amassed,
wealth to be wrenched from the earth,
power to be wielded over nations.
Go forth.
24th March 2005
And if we stream outside the city walls
to raise new gods, and burn the old,
it is simply quite incidental.
We might have destroyed them once
but did not.
We might destroy them now
but do not.
We surrounded them, screaming fiercely,
closed in on them, blades ready for the kill...
then shuddered, paused, stopped...
and retreated before their smirking unconcern.
As then, as always,
our purpose, very occasional, shrinks.
We bring great power,
yet it is a power kept from itself,
keeping itself from us.
We are many, but our weapons are dull.
Still, were they sharp
they would not be sharp enough,
theirs are far sharper,
they are, after all, theirs.
There is weakness at the root of us all.
They coolly calculate our demise
as slain Uriah,
betrayed at the gate.
24th March 2005
Sent away from the chattering clan
without having partaken,
or having partaken, but not for very long,
now sitting, sulking, licking my wounds,
or dreaming , shamelessly or shamefully longing
for an aloof, forbidden goddess,
grumbling, I know I've been wronged;
quietly preaching to the walls, I know I was right;
unable to utter a word, I know nothing at all;
yet I understand that they do not understand
and no, I cannot elaborate,
but yes, I do understand, they do not,
or will not - laughing, scorning my pleas -
will not understand.
Yes, that is it, I think, they will not.
And while I know none of their craft,
I'm sure, if nothing else, that they are wrong.
I'm sure that I am right.
I think that I am right. Perhaps I am right.
And their instruction and warning and discipline
and frightful howls of derision
will not very soon abate.
They may yet set about my licentious flesh
as would Phineas, righteous and bloodthirsty,
his lance eager and true.
24th March 2005
Having fed you a glut from diminished plates,
decayed chunks from long-dead mad cows,
vegetables bearing poisonous pips,
fruits possessed by invisible worms,
discreetly, yet not very discreetly, prepared
in a faecal, steaming pit in the ground,
where squalid vermin taunt the sweaty cook
with shrieks of sneering laughter,
and much of the offering is retrieved
from the plates of earlier peasants
(quite likely you'll not even notice),
they'll take back some of your coins,
both the valuable and quite worthless,
and prepare further diminished plates.
Perhaps they'll send your pained, corrupted flesh,
which you believe to be quite sound,
to fight blunderingly on the planes
a looming, villainous champion,
and from a safe distance
rain down on him with slings and arrows
before he kills you
but only after he's broken your bones.
They will yet rationally sacrifice your purity
as the daughters of Lot,
expendable for just cause.
24th March 2005
Rainbow spectrum hue teems; colour path beams
Flow among the streams; forming back, white dreams
Fantasy within seams; fey air it seems
A life with themes; verse quest forward in reams
Go forth with loud screams; sublime self-esteem
Taking sunbeams; blessing our Lord’s supreme
1/9/2016
Rhymers delight- internal monorhyme - Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: John Hamilton