Our sight is obstructed by a wall and a shadow.
~Nikola Tesla
O2 at 2L keeps Mother's skin
color healthy,
but she's frail,
more frail each day she lingers
in this world of shadows~
She holds the holy grail
of God's light and follows a path
illumined by love and grace,
powered by God's wind and golden sail.
The light in the darkness; my bright beacon of hope.
My safe refuge and shelter, where I can cope.
Oh Father, Most High, I offer You praise!
I give you my heart, all of my days.
And You say, “ Abide in Me.”
So I abide in Thee.
Father
Creator
Master
Friend
I love Thee!
Love, Me…
Amen.
I want you in every manner
Hot as hell and yet celestial
I need you every hour
As mundane and extraterrestrial
I want you as monks want to pray
And to reverence sacred things
I need you still as a prey
And as predators devour things
You'll have me as the cloud
Gentle, calm, slow and still
I need you not too loud
But you need not be quiet still
You'll have me as demons sent
To possess anything
You'll have me as a saint
That worships a holy being
I'll come to you as a tourist
Exploring all; ancient and modern
You'll have me as a florist
Who loves to tender his lovely garden
I see you as a beast
'Cause you devoured every bit of me
Yet I see you as my feast
For the satisfaction you give to me
© Kanu Ekpezu
EUCHARIST SUNDAY, WITH AGUA TO THE ROOTS
(Questing a Grail)
By John T Haupt
The raindrops fall down
All around
Pounding down upon the ground.
Drippingly sounding sweetly to me,
Filling up cups of the leaves on the trees.
On this Sunday take I my ease.
May I have a cup of wine please?
L.F.C
1st Leauge Title in 30 Year's
Sod lockdown
Going to party like it's 1990
The quest for the Holy Grail is finally over
Y.N.W.A
Not a good time to be a blue in this fair city
Because now we'll never hear the end of it
Holy grail so frail.
Seaside pail, water so pale.
Isolated trail, forested veil.
Wind wails, ever moving gales.
Crossing rails, breathe and inhale.
Below, a snail and its tail.
Holy grail so stale.
Seaside pail, nearby, a whale.
Faraway sail, call to no avail.
Homeless male, sorrowful tale.
Worried female, no mail.
Losing of bail, soon no longer prevail.
Holy grail so frail.
Precious water so pale.
Solitary trail, tragic tale.
Yes sometimes
Intoxication take residence
In the heart
I drink
From Love's tarven
And lose myself into its Holy grail
Like fish in oceans
Sometimes
Yes!
I want you closer
As a ring to the finger
Thorns to the rose
Closer!
Yes
And hide from judging eyes
Like blood in jugular veins.
I looked everywhere
And nowhere then
But I can't seem to find
My Holy Grail
Others were with me once
At times it was hard
And so they have left me too
But I'm still searchin'
It eludes me in my quest
At every step I take
I'm bruised, battered and torn
But not downhearted
And I keep goin' on
For to stop would be a crime
Until in the end I will find
My Holy Grail.
© Paul Warren Poetry
The sword in stone
And holy grail
That knights and king's have ever sought
Are chasened dreams
Of mans great quest
For immortality and spirituality
When all that ties the rope that binds
Us to god is taken up
In other stuff that leaves us empty
Like falling shuttle's upon re-entry
The holy grail is all around
Has yet to be found
Trump Member of Holy Grail
When you finally start to fail
Out you should start to bail
And ship you forget to trim
Can't imagine having him
Is Trump member of Holy Grail?
James Horn
Certain things are there
Impossible to find
Like 'The Holy Grail'
. . . or maybe
the esotericism of
whatever
passes for
academic
discourse
in these later
days of no
Latin no Greek
no rollick in
the original
tongues of bards
who in facing
the Moors had
strummed of
delayed lust
for ladies
a-waiting
in their foggy
homelands
pining away
from unassailable
baconies far up
on cold stone
battlements
yet holding
the dream
aloft .