Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
John Gallant Oct 24
bee’s that bumble
sting me and I grumble

football’s fumble
if hiking feet stumble

empires crumble
when giants tumble

shake the box and
jigsaw puzzles jumble

said it loud didn't mumble
yes this last line did rumble

not a Norman Rockwell
but a life lived humble
Lawrence Hall Oct 11
Lawrence Hall

                              Not the Throne He Had Anticipated

Callow and young, a man begins his life
Thinking great thoughts of empires and of kings
Of how in a few years he will awe the world
With the achievements of his mind and strength

The books he will write must astound the age
His businesses will corner out Wall Street
His ships will sail the seas to India
His planes will fly tourists around the world -

But many years later

He writes a doubtful check upon his bank
At the hardware store for a toilet tank
A poem is itself. So is a toilet tank.
Will you grant me Home,
Safe passage to all your lands?
To taste divine grapes,
Embarking beautiful sands?
So afraid to hear,
Your voice soft & so sweet.
Angels guarding me,
Wandered ever will I meet.
Defeated sadness,
Sinks down below your abode.
Here found my gladness,
Finally breathing the codes.
Mysteries all found,
Yours & only Holy Home.
mark soltero Sep 24
goal oriented affections mean nothing

do i have a problem he asked
ungripped from the idea of desire
slight misunderstandings amongst those present
watch it all unfold

beneficial mistakes led to destiny
beautiful positions fill the space between
pure vanity overtakes love not meant to be

affections without true purpose
lungs spilling the life you have
on the brink of death
all for the misuse of her humility

simply to be with the girl of your dreams
broken hearts between brought you to me he realized
the lives he's taken before was worth it
The thorns in my side
I try so hard to hide
with humor, cleverness, even kindness
but after so long they are well-planted
like seeds they’ve taken root.

I am a man full of grace and gratitude
even changes in attitude
I float on great waves
in my wooden dinghy
precarious atop mighty waters
and angels visit
take me into smooth azure lagoons
where I reside in peace
even serenity from time to time.

I weep in great sadness
occasional fits of despair
drowning there
I swim up to gulp for air
leap and glide into the light
breathe mercy in my flight
pray for courage and gumption
but discover
I cannot stay afloat alone
so with abandon I dive
into bright souls whose hands and hearts
reach down to rescue me.
Some of them are thorn people too
battered, broken, and rugged
who’ve found the courage to change
the things they could.

I guess these thorns are there
to ******* up for air
to give me the zephyr of humility
the certainty of a love
that save me.
For those in the grip of addictions.
Steve Page Sep 4
God creator, God enthroned,
God in heaven, juxtaposed
with a green hill
not so far away,
but still a long way
from a throne room,
and a long walk
from Bethlehem,

a God walk beside us
a God walk with us,
a God walk like ours,
and now enthroned,
- still with us.
God's complicated.
you say you know everything
so in fact
you know nothing
about humility
you know nothing
M Vogel Jun 27

To inhabit the space  within
oneself,  to such a degree
that the skin, thins itself out

in order to leave  room
for that which is  to occupy--

An indwelling  
of self,  to such a degree
as to stretch the skin
to full capacity..

leaving no room  for ambiguity--

All cells and atoms, within
now  fully occupied,

   fully inhabited

   by the most beautiful  
   form of indwelling  of all--

   That,  of the self.

She is ghosting me
I ask her why
She says, "Because you're so big."
I don't know what that means
"Whenever you come in,
you fill the room..
there is nowhere for me to go
no shadows for me to hide in
You walk in and they all go away."

Ok.. so why ghost me?

"My silence is the only thing
I have left  to hide in."

In my love for you, my beautiful
that is the service I provide.

.   .   .  
Access into fullness, comes only
by facing the pain--
it is suffered, into.
Grace   buys us time
for to become  able
to  take  Love  in.
Truth  is the green
umbrella-like canopy-covering
that makes possible, growth..
for  all  jungle inhabitants.
CarolineSD Jun 8
By the shores of an alpine lake
Newly thawed
Sun bright and full of an early summer’s
I watch the goslings waddle
To the lapping edge of the water.

Their mother eyes me, but
Notes that I am
Not a threat.

And I am not a threat.

I tell her softly that she should pass
And I will not throw rocks
Or chase her off
Like so many do
As if we have some greater claim to this
Blue lake
And the evergreen forests
That surround it
Than all of the wild things that quietly adjust their days,
Trace a slightly wider arc,
Around the cacophonous noise we make,

Before slipping quickly up, up and away
Into the thickness of a wilderness
Rife with ponderosa pines
And a crisp silence
Broken only by the wind
And the bird songs
That are the first to speak
Of the winter’s end.

And I prefer to listen
And look often
To the farthest contours of the foothills against the sky,
Borne away from even my own voice that
Seems to demean the purity of things
Free and

And time,
A gentle drifting
Like a body on the surface of the lake
Drawn out to the center when
The tide is just right
Pulls me away from these cities we make
Inside our minds
To justify the way we think our lives
Mean more than hers;

Just a mother leading her young ones to take a drink,

And I will never stop her;

The spirit of honest things.

No, I hand her my heart to take to the center of this blue lake
And let it sink like a rock to the dark,
Cool depths where it belongs,

From whence it came.
Next page