Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sarah Pavlak Apr 24
I hit deliverance going a cool 65.
Some people were up dancing with Saints  
On twin-sized mattresses,
Tying fisherman’s knots,
Suppressing rebellions
At the edges of mouths.
They blew me smoke-ring halos,
Got high enough to see God
In the slits of the blinds,
The dips of collarbones.
With medical shears I sent
My last rights to the spark
Of the telephone wire, asked
If I had been enough, and
Lit up the flare.
SøułSurvivør Sep 2017
^¡^

little girl gets angry
hits a boy at school
sent home by the principle
'cos she broke the rules
this was most unfortunate
with liquor on his breath
her father pulled his belt out
and beat her half to death

none of us have halos
none of us have wings
none of us are "there" yet
as the choir sings
our minds are set on stupid
we think of earthly things
no, none of us have halos
none of us have wings


Johnny, feeling hurt inside,
takes his tournequet
pours his lady snow out
to fix himself a hit
he didn't know how strong it was
that it could do him harm
he dies in a public bathroom
with a needle in his arm

[CHORUS]

dad has had a kind of lapse
he had an affair
mom just up and left him
divorced him then and there
now his little girl has bruises
'cos of liquor in his head
due to a wife who left him
his son, Johnny, is dead


have you graduated?
with a high degree
in personal perfection?
if not, then let it be
I don't claim to be flying
as my transgression clings
'cos none of have halos

none of us have wings



SøułSurvivør
(C) 9/12/2017
As some may know I'm in a bit of a tussle. I don't hold my detractor ill-will. I'd just like to make the obvious statement.

NOBODY'S PERFECT!

I'm willing to let bygones be bygones.
I was wrong in some respects, too.

I apologize for not reading much. I'm actually studying some scripture, so I'm limited as to what I read.

I'll be back reading soon.

♡L♡O♡V♡E  Y♡O♡U  A♡L♡L♡
M Harris Feb 2017
Stranded in a Spectrum entirely green,
I dream; in colors clustered around blue;
We meet; in swirls of turquoise.

Subliminal codes in her lullabies,
Allow her to control my dreams;
And when she makes green tea to calm me,
She uses mouse skulls instead of leaves;
It tastes like half-remembered dreams.

Eyelid transplants
Allow me to experience her dreams,
And when my dream-self leaves messages
On the inside of my eyelids;
They are blue notes
That shimmer in the morning,
Rescued from her memory-hole.

And outside, right before that morning,
The injured moon leaves smears
Of blue-green blood across the sky;
And soon, the earth is ringed with gore striations,

Celestial entrails halos;
It will be a day to remember;
A day of turquoise.
envydean Dec 2016
Be human or angel
he's still tied
to a subsun halo
inspired by my Castiel Colour Challenge Prompt: Subsun
Halos are a pagan tradition
of hanging a sunlit nimbus
over the head of great people;
it’s a crown of light rays  
to shed an implied importance.

The genuine humility of Christ,
will always shine more brightly
than the human ego, that insists
on sporting tilted, tarnished halos.
For Him, it’s of no consequence!

Our Lord is a spiritual high priest,
attributed with characteristics of
pureness, innocence and greatness;
these halos are nothing more than a…
fashion accessory of shiny nonsense.
.
.
.
Author Notes

Inspired by:
Heb 7:26

Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://amzn.to/1ffo9YZ

By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2015, All rights reserved.

— The End —