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Josiah Israel May 2018
Through death I drew breath, Through blood I have life,

When hope was an ember, burning through strife,

Joy was a gift, Which on his behalf,

Brightened my smile, and drew out my laugh!

Sin was the monster, Death was his game,

Fear was what kept me, bound with a chain,

But in him is mercy,  and he lives in me!

His blood gave me life,  His love set me free...
Josiah Israel Jul 2017
Deep in a magic forest, with big old magic trees
And all the magic creatures that live inside of these

There is a magic island, upon a magic lake
And on the island stands a stool, the like no man could make

And on the stool from dawn to dusk, resides a little man
Who spends his days in deeper thought, than any mortal can…

How does he think so many thoughts, well you must realize,
That though the man is small, his head is twice the normal size.

And as for food, well first of all he quite likes eating bugs
Beetles spiders, grass hoppers, slimy snails and salty slugs!

Inside his beard he keeps a hive, so honey he can eat,
And sips the dew from roses, which he grows atop his feet…

And when the night time brings the cold, the old man doesn't care
He simply covers up, with all his long and tangled hair!

Regardless of his oddities, the man is still renowned,
For being quite the wisest man, who never can be found.
This poem was told to me by a young Fairy on the road to a Wishing Well near my house.
Josiah Israel Jan 2017
Away amongst the dappled sky
You see me racing swiftly by
And harken to my engines cry
The heavens ever speeding nigh
For ****** will push me swiftly high

Tis skyward that I fly!


The jet stream takes me rapidly
The form aerodynamically
To the place I mean to be
A bullet shot from barrel, me!

So fast a blur is all you see…


To lofty places I ascend
The constellations to befriend
And through the space which has no end
I strike the fabric, make it bend

Before spacetime itself I rend…


I land in distant years behind
My eldest kin I hope to find
For in their strength they’ve become blind
A warning have I in my mind

“Beware, the future is not kind…”


And when my purpose here is done
They hear my mighty engines run
I launch once more toward the sun
My sonic blast, all hearing, stun

Like bullet shot from smoking gun!


Then back through rift I must return
Slowing by my retro burn
But soon a dreadful thing I learn
A comet speeding struck my stern

Stranded now, defeat I spurn!


For though my state is more then grave
Tis home my soul dose wholly crave
And so a plan I start to pave
A burnished sail my life will save

For I can ride a solar wave.


Now close to earth I soon will be
Approaching far too rapidly
For burning is my craft, yes she
The one who swiftly carried me

Crash! I plunge into the sea.


My ship is recked but I survive
Drifting eastward half alive
When to an island I arrive


And on said place, for life I strive.


Then after months of living there
Illness I take through lack of care
But then a ship, tall sailed and fair
Picks me up, off island bare
And gives me drought of spirit ere

Death claim me or age **** my hair.


And when I am safe home at last
Infirmity from me I cast
Recalling engines mighty blast
My journey to the distant past

And galaxies rushing toward me fast!


I write it down, just how you read
And tell it true to all who heed
And now conclude, for I am freed
With brand new rocket, lightning speed

What a wondrous life I lead…
Dedicated to my beloved spaceship Scarlet Thunder, she has brought me safely as far as Venus.
Josiah Israel Jan 2017
by— Josiah Israel

Twas oft the way in days of old,
When knight would battle brave and bold,
The damsels hand in hopes to hold,
Worth more then polished Stone, or Gold
For this is what a boy is told
When day is done and night is cold…

“One day my son, thy chance will come
Though courage oft may waver,
When lady waits, through sable gates
For thee brave lad, to save her!”

For when a dragon stole a maid,
Awaiting ransom duly paid,
Twas bravest knight, armor arrayed  
With noble steed and burnished blade
Rode swiftly to the damsels aid…

“You have not birth of high degree
Yet be thou brave and fight,
For low in rank thy birth may be
Yet heart makes noble knight!”

And after facing beast and foe
The knight with maiden free would go
Away to fields in need of ***
For seeds ere winter need to grow
And none can reap who do not sow…

“Not all you do will win a prize
Of gold or silver bent,
So reap a harvest good in size
And be thee well content.”

And when the battle horn he hears
The knight must banish all his fears
And ride to war, with battle cheers
On maidens cheek alight her tears
Fearing death, she spends the years…

“To win renown in battle
Might also be your path,
May your enemies armor rattle
As they feel your righteous wrath!”

But after kings campaign is done
The knight to home will swiftly run
From dusk through night to rising sun
Till maiden sees her hero come
Heart moving swift, a beating drum
Her heart a prize which first he won!

“Home is best at warring's end
To be with those you cherish,
A place to rest, your wounds to mend
Where love will never perish”

Though all the kingdom knows his name
And minstrels spread the brave knights fame
His love for she, remains the same
And they live happily, Knight and Dame…
I love the medieval Ballad kind of poem. Alfred Lord Tennyson was my inspiration for this style :D
Josiah Israel Jan 2017
What you see is a machine, skin and bone and blood,
Made by the infinite being, constructed out of mud.

Limbs clothed in skin, Actuated from within.

Electrically controlled, Slowly getting old.

Healthy strong and tall, Broken by a fall.

Flesh together sown, Mended on its own.

Your eyes will only ever see, as far as light will let,
But soul resides in this machine, alive and free from debt!

So look ye now with spirit eyes upon this mortal man,
And see ye now the hidden truth, that flesh eyes never can.
Josiah Israel Jan 2017
I look upon a hillside green, A cow takes water from a stream,
A fox in play handsome and lean, upon this hillside emerald green,

Though…

Through my window it all seems, so far away, as in a dream.


A breeze picks up to push the grass, in great long sweeps I see it pass,
The sun is high a molten mass, resembling gold or polished brass,

Yet…

Through my window it all seems, so far away, as in a dream.

And to the stream a shepherd lad, shoulders low and poorly clad,
Made his way, though face was sad, for three small sheep were all he had,

Alas…

Through my window it all seems, so far away, as in a dream.

And from the south a minstrel gay, dressed in scarlet white and grey,
Comes skipping toward the stream to stay, beneath a tree I see him lay,
A merry tune begins to play,

And still…

Through my window it all seems, quite far away, as in a dream.

Then ore the hill comes charging quick, a band of goblins armor thick,
And in their hand an iron pick, the sons of light they mean to STICK!

But no…

Through my window it all seems, quite far away, as in a dream.

The shepherd lad a warning cries, before the pick removes his eyes,
The minstrel flees, at least he tries, but goblin chief of massive size,
Outran the man who screaming dies!

Yet still…

Through my window it all seems, quite far away, as in a dream.


The sheep are taken as a snack, the cow is butchered, carried back,
The fox has fled for all are dead, the stream once clear runs ruby red!

And yes…

Through my window it all seems, quite far away, as in a dream.

Now as I gaze, all seams so still, nothing moves nor ever will,
For goblins bear the urge to ****, now crimson stains the emerald hill…
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