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I wouldn't call myself a poet
But you make me dream like one
You're an angel, but you don't know it
But I know, 'cause you gleam like one

Some people may not seem to notice
But who cares what people say
The ones who really know you know this
And would never push you away

My Goddess gleaming
My tears are streaming
Please tell me that you understand
The fate that weaved us
Must never leave us
Please keep me here in Heaven's hand

Now life's a trail that keeps on going
As we walk it hand in hand
The winds of time are always blowing
On our footprints written in the sand

I know that fate's a current flowing
As we swim it side by side
Never stopping, never slowing
Till we're swallowed by the tide

My Goddess gleaming
My tears are streaming
Please tell me that you understand
The fate that weaved us
Must never leave us
Please keep me here in Heaven's hand

I guess I'd call myself a poet
My pencil proves this power true
But sitting here I'd never know it
'Cause none of my silly rhymes could ever compare to you
For E, My Love
pradipsingh Mar 19
The cuckoo's whisper in this sweet evening
Is more lovelier than love has been
Throughout eve she keeps on whispering
For somebody, whom she has never seen

The vesper is on and fervent Angels sings
They lift up their choir to heavenly height
Amid, this sweet whisper, the cuckoo brings
And make this place and time a holy rite

Such peace, tranquility and harmony
Was felt all over and around the place
And nobody would be with agony
For everybody was blessed with grace

Yet I sit here alone with mournful lips
And ponder about the past with a grief
For l, doomed like Odysseus and his ships
Cry like a newborn baby in the eves

Her mortal vestige is in grave and oh
It has been years and years, since she has been
But still today I can hear and can know
She is here always, though she can't be seen
Dani Just Dani Sep 2023
This morning I woke up
with music rolling
down my sleeves,
I sit up and as a soft ballad
That the universe sings
Runs laps on
the rims of my ears,
Making me jump up from my bed
To slowly put out my arms,
I can barely keep my eyes open
As I look to see
My right hand holding
unto the hips of the non existent,
My left hand grabbing
Tightly unto the hand of memories,
I waste saliva to ask the quiet room
If they are ready yet,
I don’t wait for an answer,
I slide through the path
That has been walked upon,
I twist and turn and smile.
I let the emptiness
rest upon my arms
As I let her down
as close to the ground as I can
Just to bring her back up
In a subtle graceful movement.
The music stops
and I let go.
Johnson Oyeniran Mar 2023
The ballad of Nalum by Johnson Oyeniran

Under a Sakura tree on a warm and pleasant day,
Sat a battle hardened soldier, trying to stay awake.

''Arise, you must stay vigilant'' muttered the combatant,
''Or youll suffer the same fate as private Melicent.''

But her eyes grew weary then she fell into a deep sleep,
Before the enemy quietly slipped into their keep.

They were bested by ruthless devils more savage than beast,
All the while the sleeping soldier slumbered against a tree.

Luckily for her, she was mistaken for a body,
So they left her be and continued with their killing spree.

Time passed since the enemy took the army by surprise,
They outnumbered them nine to two and left not one alive.

When the enemy were done having the time of their lives,
They merrily marched home with plunder and kukri knives.

In the midst of her fallen comrades, the soldier woke up,
In a state of shock at what she had just seen, she choked up.

''This isnt a prank nor am i dreaming'' wailed the soldier,
''My...brothers and sisters in arms are six feet under!''

''Before long, their mangled corpses will be food for scavengers,
Then nature will bury whats left of these warriors.''

Alone and orderless, the soldier randomly went west,
A tragic choice she would ultimately come to regret.

Now up ahead, roughly half a kilometer away,
Was the entire enemy, camping beside a great lake.

''This can not be happening'', whispered the protagonist,
''How did I end up near the camp of these terrorist?!''

But before she could try to sneak away, she got captured,
Embarrassed by her mistake, the soldier felt so awkward.

After hours of abuse, she was brought before their leader,
He demanded to know how she survived their massacre.

However, the female soldier preferred to stay silent,
Which caused the commander to get extremely violent.

He ordered his guard to pluck out one of her amber eyes,
And use an urumi to render asunder her thighs.

She was no stranger to torture and refused make a sound,
Though she was covered in a pool of her blood in the ground.

Her hands were bound in bronze chains by the commanders order,
But little did he know he had made a deadly error.

Whilst a male guard lead her to a human sized cage at night
She slipped out her chains once she saw he was preoccupied.

Immediately, she wrapped her chains around the guards neck,
Fueled by rage, she choked him with her might till he dropped dead.

Nearby was a deep hole she used to conceal the dead guard,
But first, she took his uniform and cut off his male part.

Later, she blended in with her enemy in disguise,
Her plan was to destroy them all with a fatal device.

Now in an empty tent, she performed a ritual,
Her special blood was needed to make her wish possible.

Soon after,12 ghostly heads hovered out of her symbol,
They were ancient wish granters who were all ethereal.

''Your request?'' asked the 12 heads floating in the air,
''Fashion me a bomb'', begged the female soldier in despair.

''As you wish'', answered the 12 heads she summoned from heaven,
''With this, Ill avenge them'', declared the servicewoman.

Just then, word had quickly spread that the soldier had escaped,
So the enemy searched high and low for her in great haste.

Suddenly, they were bewitched by the soldier's melody,
One by one, they mindlessly marched to her tent, slowly.

Out stepped the female soldier standing firm and unafraid,
Wrapped around her body, was the bomb the 12 heads had made.

At the cost of her life, she ignited her lethal bomb,
And at last, the whole enemy both small and great, was gone.

Nalum, Nalum the brave and mighty female warrior!
May your story live on within my poem forever!
Zywa Nov 2022
I play this ballad

every day, it's the tuning --

fork of my spirit.
"Ballad No. 4" (Opus 52, 1842, Frédéric Chopin) for piano, performed by Samuel Vriezen in the Organpark on October 30th, 2022

Collection "org anp ark" #241
Brody Blue Jun 2022
Of one man’s disobedience deceived to eat that fruit
That brought death into the world alone his sole repute
Whereby the serpent’s artful tongue misled did do that deed
And lost as he the blissful seat and rank of choses seed
But far unlike that spiteful fiend he fell when justly tried
Before the judge down to his knees with pleas for mercy cried
Yet when with mercy pardoned by the judge refused to cope
And let the loss of innocence be thought the vault of hope;
That which is dead within my heart revive and urge me play
A song that’s sure unto all man to justify your ways
Thru me tell the story, war on evanescence wage:
Goddess sing the rage

Of one man’s firm obedience both tried and tested true
Whose triumph, like the morning mist, gave unto each its due
When meekly giving up the ghost he boldly thus denies
A grave of such esteem for which a king would gladly die;
Whose kinsmen at the gavel’s rap like vipers drunk with wrath
Scourged heaven’s own begotten sent to speak on their behalf
And laid to waste that greater man then dared to go so far
As to blame all fault upon the silence of the stars;
That which is dead within my heart revive and urge me play
A song that’s sure unto all man to justify your ways
Thru me tell the story, war on evanescence wage:
Goddess sing the rage

Hail Holy Light! Offspring of Heaven’s word firstborn
Command the formless infinite at once take on thy form
And with thy vital lamp, dare I beseech thee to inspire,
Set fire unto darkness dead alight upon thy pyre
And from beneath thy sovereign seat where lies thy fountain’s spring
Oblige the maids of memory descend and sweep my string;
That which is dark illuminate, what’s low support and raise
That I in mine may for all time thru death still sing thy praise;
That which is dead within my heart revive and urge me play
A song that’s sure unto all man to justify your ways
Thru me tell the story, war on evanescence wage:
Goddess sing the rage
Daniel Jan 2022
As like when they were children
now they curtsy at the cross
Then all once they take their seats
and turn their gaze upon

The august priest in silken robes,
ornately trimmed and white
And urging them to prayer between the
readings and the rites

The man of god, his hands aloft
move practiced through the air
His winsome words bring ease upon
the crosses which they bear

His mirthful moans and dulcet tones
resounding through the chamber
By candlelight I then decide
To stay for the remainder
Ellie Sutton Jan 2022
Curst be the wretch, and sure he's curst
That taught the Trade of Rhyming first
'Tis a ****' d Trade, and who pursues it,
I'll pass my word at last he rue's it
The above is an extract from a late seventeenth-century satirical ballad I stumbled across in the course of my research. It made me smile; I hope it does you! The title is the number of the ballad in the English Broadside Ballad Archive, an online database of seventeenth-century ballads, should you wish to read the entire piece yourself.
“No weapon that is formed against thee shall prosper;
and every tongue that shall rise against thee in judgment thou shalt condemn.
This is the heritage of the servants of the LORD,
and their righteousness is of me, saith the LORD.” 
                    ———— Isaiah 54 17 KJV

"This was not an impulsive act." she said
Snowy tears heated by burning gun fires.
"This isn't even a close call” Count it
Once more: how many Angels are falling?

And at this moment ominous cloudy pressed world
And it arises wondrous sorrow
And crying sentence, roaring-high
As grey as ghastliness

Through the drifts the chaotic vibrates
Loud call without sounds
Nor action of men nor beasts we ken—
The gunfire was all within and between

The angers was here, the shots were there,
And the gunshot was not for bonfire night
It busted and roared, and chapped and howled
Likewise, a rumble thunder was all around.

We all sat in the corner of darkness 
Stop pray, everyone try to shout
“You who lost” the boy screamed
His voice ignited the midnight ballad,

An unexpected early Christmas chorus
Isn’t justice God upon the heaven
But her son blinked his red eyes again
As she touched his wounded soul

"This isn't even a close call’ she whispered
We ought to kiss Uranus at night sky
Where we danced in better cheer
Where the morns haves no tearing fear
the above Ballad format poem is based on the most recent tragic gunfire event, Michigan school shooting…
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