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Shannon Butler Nov 2018
In the land of andere
In the world of endless meander
The heir has long been foretold
Carrying the power of the queens of old
A demon shall ally with an angel
Two shall become one in danger
One of four will be chosen
The daughter of the one who was stolen
With an iron sword she shall swing
Peace or chaos she may bring
For a thousand years was fought
To their knees they all shall be brought
The last of the andere has foreseen
The unfathered shall one day be queen
This is the beginning of a fantasy I'm writing, a prophecy that kicks it off. Would love feedback!
Mary Shanti Oct 2018
Bubble in the sky
Whispers billowy
Hello’s
And then vanishes
Leaving me wondering

Like a question unanswered
You are out there
My creme filled doughnut of love
You taunt me
I meet you
In bars
You are witty
You speak of Hemingway and heroism
And wine filled coffee houses that would be great to muse
In
Then you leave with your girlfriend
Who confessed to me she doesn’t love you
As I twist the cap on her beer open
And wish it was laced with some sort of truth poison

You
You are out there
I don’t expect you to ride up on a white horse
Perhaps just have a good conversation
Because Hello dear isn’t exactly enticing
Or drawing me in
In this algorithm, online dating world

You, you are out there
I have to believe it,
Somewhere In this jaded heart filled boxed of mine
I release the edges of hate
That have filled the corners of what was my yesteryear's
Long I ago I would have been what was considered Old Maid fate
I know there is just a glimpse of golden
Amongst all this shaded grey

You, you are out there
Each year that goes by
You become more hazy
I have to wipe the windows
Inside me
To trust you are there

You, you are out there
You have changed from muscle man hero
To creative, inspiring, accepting, adventurous lover

You, you are out there
Able to handle this non laid back lady
Able to see beyond just ripping off clothes
And slapping my ***

You, you are out there
Sometimes your to long winded
But Still not jaded
Able to take my hand
And hold it
In the wind blown turmoil of what I have been

You , you are out there
Weathered words, that hold pages
Of information
You spill out onto my soul
And make me want to dive in

You, you are going to be a part of this story
We will tell it
Like the alchemist
Who sought to chase the wind
You
You are the ending
So Let the beginning
Begin
unnamed Oct 2018
people have written about everything,
nothing has been left to be found.
I've tried to find what wasn't leftover,
but it's gone.

there's been poet's and scribes,
prophets and writs;
but they're gone,
for now.
until another one reincarnates.
again.

love is nothing new to us.
and war never changes too.
but what we write is just rhetoric,
maybe that is too.

what's written makes no sense.
but there's no more writing to be found.
weirdly how I'm writing,
what should've seemed so profound.
we've reached everything, but haven't found the end.
is writing just a super-task of infinitesimally unfinished words. or do you have to furnish all the poems with fancy oak and gold
Caleb Hess Sep 2018
I don’t like puzzles, not this kind, anyway. My thoughts are puzzle pieces and these days are prophetic. What is my prophecy? Where I am supposed to be is far away, maybe. I feel that life is on autopilot.
LOST! Where the hell am I?
I don’t think that I’m meant to be here, nothing goes as planned. I see everything as if it was made of glass, I see it all. Surrounded by mirrors, I’m discombobulated. As I see everything, everything is everywhere. I know how to get there so I go but somehow I become lost… but it was so clear. The mirrors always catch my eye, I guess.
At some point I steered off during my prophecy and now the gods can’t seem to locate me. How will I ever get back? I’m trailed off in a simulation living in the background, I feel. I don’t want this, I want to be the main character of my own life.
I. Feel. So… l o s t.
I  am  getting  nowhere.
END

How long wilt thou - this generation of deceit and joy – detain,
Starve, and defraud the people of our holiest reign?
Content ingloriously wasted to pass by as our falling days,
Like the flooding rains, as virtuous fools chase each other’s praise:
Till all thy fleshly allegories, now dimmed once shined so bright
As the multitudes grow stale - tarnished with each day’s new light.
Please believe me, ye youth by whose royal fruit thy must be
Gathered before ripened - else ye rot upon the tree.
Heaven itself must be sufficiently allotted, soon of late,
Like some unlucky youthful revolution born purely out of fate.
This false fate whose notions if we watch with skill,
For does not human good depend on human will?
Fortune rolls upward like lava, smoothly it does ascend,
From its first release, it takes not the bend.
But, if un-seized, it glides away like the wind
And leaves us - a late repenting fool far behind.
Now to meet with you, the you reading of this glorious prize,
As I spread these wisdom words before you as above you he flies.
Had thus Old Noah, from whose ***** we all offspring,
Not dared, when fortune called him to be the lead offering,
At the bottom of the ocean in exile he might still remain
And Heaven's sacred anointing oil would have been in vain.
Let Noah’s successional ages to your heart engage
And not shun the examples of this prophesized declining age.
For behold soon there comes three days of darkness to the skies,
As the shadows lengthen into the airs and then we slowly vaporize.

Watching the weather, all the earthquakes, the volcano eruptions, the crazy skies and all - well - if you haven't thought about some of the prophecy you've always heard then perhaps this poem makes very little sense to you. But on the off chance that while you read this piece you too have noticed the weird strangeness now enveloping the globe then maybe you can appreciate why I had to write this.
Denis Martindale May 2018
It’s easy to seize a Caesar,
He’s just another man,
It’s easy to tease a teaser,
For all you need’s a plan…
And yet to **** young Julius,
That’s not a pretty thing,
And so the Ides are infamous,
As prophesied to bring…
But Caesar carried on quite brave,
Regardless, come what may,
Dismissing claims he wasn’t safe,
Until his final day…
Then Brutus was a brute for sure,
As Caesar soon found out,
Thus Caesar’s dead for ever more…
Of that, there’s no more doubt!

Denis Martindale March 2018.
Jamie L Cantore May 2018
This book represents the majority of my Poetry since childhood. I hope you enjoy it.
b Apr 2018
i worry about my purpose a lot.
it's a pretentious thing to write down i know.
but if i didnt have purpose to contemplate
than all the screwdrivers downed
would be for nothing
all the evenings still in bed
would be for nothing
all of my short comings
would be for nothing.

if there's no corner piece
for me to slide into,
i might just bang my head into my desk
until i cant feel it anymore.
Rileigh Shanks Mar 2018
Lift up your head, O Amsterdam!
Cast off your shame like a cloak;
Let it fall from your shoulders
As the shadows fall from the trees under the noonday sun.
Let your righteousness shine like the dawn;
Let your salvation blaze like a burning torch.

Too long have you lived in oppression;
Too long have  you allowed lewdness and adultery to taint your every thought.
Your graceful form has been ***** and ravaged,
And unspeakable sins have taken hold of your life.

You have opened yourself up to Corruption;
You have embraced Idolatry like a lover;
You have welcomed Lust into your *****;
You have accepted Rebellion and Calamity as you closest friends;
Captivity and Abuse are constantly biting at your heels.

You have lost sight of your former glory;
You have forgotten you early prestige.
Do you not remember the words spoken over you in your youth?
Can you not recall your previous high standing?

You, O Amsterdam, were once so full of innocent beauty;
Everything you touched was made lovely.
Your skill and your potential were rivaled by no other.
Creativity and reform flowed from your hands like a mighty river,
And the promise of your future shone with the blinding brilliance of the dawn.

You were once a woman of untamed joy and boundless freedom,
Until you allowed fear to creep in and tame you.
You cowered at the feet of Dread and allowed him to harness you.
You surrendered to him your life, your freedom, your spirit, and your morals.
He stripped you of your pride and forced you into passivity,
Tearing away your will and your self dignity.

But you, O Amsterdam, did nothing to resist him.
You stood idly by and watched as your life was reformed by Dread.
You leaned into his changes;
You embraced his foreign ways and made them laws throughout your land,
Allowing everything you once stood for to be transformed.
You were selfish and afraid,
Seeking your own salvation at every expense to others.
And in your schemes for self preservation,
You lost everything.

Through your cowardice and because of your stoicism,
Your power and your control have been removed.
They have been taken from you and given into the hands of the Enemy,
And you have made no efforts to reclaim them.
You have grown lax and frail,
Unable to stop even the most conspicuous of wrongs;
Too feeble to lift even a single finger in defiance.

But do not fear, O Amsterdam!
Cease your trembling and lift up your head!
Set your eyes on the horizon and behold,
For your Savior is near!

The LORD has not forgotten you.
He has not abandoned you in your hour of weakness and despair.
He remembers all of His promises to you,
And He calls you by your True Name.

“I have made you to be a carrier of Freedom,” says the LORD.
“I have created you to be a Woman of Joy.
I have placed a uniqueness and an artistry inside of you,
And you will bear that into the surrounding lands.

“You were hand-crafted, O Amsterdam,
Individually selected by the LORD.
I have called you to be a place of refuge and new beginnings;
I have set you apart to carry a mantel of original and artistic vision.
I have made you a Leader and a Sanctuary,
And your influence will reconstruct the world around you.

“I, the LORD, will hold you in my hand for all to see–
I will renew your beauty and your splendor, and will lift you up to your former glory.
Never again will you be called “Forsaken” or “Desolate”,
For I will bestow upon you a new name.
You shall be known as “The Object of God’s Delight”
And “The Bride of God”,
For the LORD delights in you,
And will claim you as His bride.”

The nations will see your righteousness.
World leaders will be blinded by your glory.
You will walk through the streets of your city,
Your the Darkness will be transformed by the Light.
Your rivers will be refreshed by new streams of living water,
And hope will bloom with the springtime Tulips.

The LORD is reclaiming your territory;
He is marking every door with His seal.
He is bringing Revival like a tidal wave,
And releasing Honor into your streets like a hurricane.
Dignity and Grace will once again be your crown,
And you will commit yourselves to the Lord in triumph.
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