#parables
The resurrected dead rouses not the dead
In sunshine candles open not any eyes
But a whispery hush suffices for the living
And the sighted sees in the darkest depths
Miracles are not for the dead but the living
Jezebel vowed to **** and Israel yet idolatrous
Parables, crafted tales, to mislead and hide
But turned to wine quenching mourning spirits
Millions are hidden and unknown, oppressed
By chance, without knowledge or intent, one,
by the wicked, blessed, but by miracle, Israel
remains unblessed, untouched by wickedness
Jun 20, 2025
Jun 20, 2025 at 2:21 AM UTC
Simplicity
Had like a child with no forethought
Quiet, angel, thinking joy implicitly...
Is a babes dream, even where love is not?
Not the taming wind?
Severity, in the name of solemn justness?
Can a vice, be a lover's stare, to lend
The our of presence; of mind, kindred, and bless
What has my lip, for another sigh?
Of peace, the still remaining share
Of life; so many, so many mind...
Even when peace is a step forward, sensation cares
Callousness, are we a fate, in silences fury?
Of prayer; notice the shade we compel
To look one more time, a sated cause to carry
Away the copious day, that is for more than another haste of hell
Here to say, stay
Outward limits we will know
With a new solemnity, with an ear for any
Who would save me, from the mind I blow...?
Jun 12, 2024
Jun 12, 2024 at 8:01 PM UTC
I missed your touch,
When you walked out the door.
Left me behind,
With Joe & little Flore.
You said no more,
Broken bottles & cans.
Torn wedding pics,
Us aisled among sands.
Wondered a child,
“Where is mommy to be?”
Small words to say,
“You’ll have to wait & see...”
We miss your touch,
Us longing on these eves...
Nov 3, 2020
Nov 3, 2020 at 5:04 PM UTC
A sheathed sword despised,
the sword unsheathed, slays;
Grace and patience bestowed
on the rebellion to turn.
The dead returned to life,
but the living remains dead;
Life shrouded in secrecy,
lest the dead irrevocably condemned.
Jul 3, 2020
Jul 3, 2020 at 12:00 AM UTC
Get to the Market
Some people take the back road
Others use the highway
Some arrive early
Some arrive late
Get the market
We all follow our own way
No persuasion
No need to jump a red light
A river will flow where it flows
Carve its own way
Get to the market
Some exhilarate
Others doddle along the way
Walk or run
You will arrive when you get there
Get to the market
May 6, 2019
May 6, 2019 at 5:41 AM UTC
As words in a strange tongue
So symbols in wisdom;
Not any sounds are words
Nor stories, parables;
But angelic tongues do speak
Even as donkeys are wise.
Apr 2, 2019
Apr 2, 2019 at 2:12 AM UTC
*If Jesus spoke in parables
Then Jesus was a poet
For who speaks in parables
But one so named "Poet"?*
© Raphael Uzor
May 25, 2014
May 25, 2014 at 7:15 PM UTC