"cedars" poems
As beautiful as the famed city of Atlantis
Gloriously flourishing in her perfection
There is a place where my soul and heart is
A perfect place without grief or deception
Where my heart is always merry
And peace blossoms like the cherry
The sun smiles at me gently caressing
My body as the birds sing melodies-
So beautiful they keep me guessing-
The beauty of future melodic memories
Like the Cedars of Lebanon
Beautifying the palaces of Ethiopia
Purity, love and perfection adorn her every season.
This place is within me; this place is Utopia
Apr 14, 2015
Apr 14, 2015 at 10:46 AM UTC
Behold Nigeria my motherland
A land that sits upon the hills of many waters
A country built on the ancient landmark of heroes band
An Eagle that protects her citizens in the arms of her feathers.
A beautiful Nigeria whose fields are as green as green could ever be
An Iroko that stands on the root of peace and unity
A fertile land that is as fertile as fertility can ever be
A united people, a proud nation void of segregation nor discrimination in her city.
My motherland a land that upholds the staff of dignity and natural endowment
A land of unity and peace glowing like a river of gold across the horizon
A nation that feeds on the diet of heavens supplement
An ocean that runs through the test of raging storms un-torn.
My motherland! My motherland!
A Nigeria that adores her women more highly than the Queen of England
An Olive that yields more than the cedars of Lebanon
A land whose daughters are as beautiful as the daughters of Job in Jerusalem's land
An independent country as powerful as the King Nebuchadnezar of Babylon.
It's Nigeria my motherland
A land that rests on the pillars of her freedom
A country seated on the pearls and treasures of many Ireland
A Nigeria that lives on the soil of heavens wisdom.
Oct 9, 2014
Oct 9, 2014 at 5:55 AM UTC
I Walk through the lonely ancient woods
And hear the voices from the Cedars of Lebanon
Whispering a truth known to all
But remembered by few
A felled branch reveals the wound
That smells of comfort and wisdom
Your knots are like the eyes of God
Scrutinizing my every intentions
I feel at ease as I rest in your strong arms
And think --
If I had a choice for a final resting place
It would be under your majestic feet
May 21, 2014
May 21, 2014 at 10:39 AM UTC
Do you remember the garden?
Do you remember the garden?
Where
we
lived.
The Charlotte roses filled the wild,
peace was uncaged, unbroken,
and the dragons and doves flew together,
And the thousand horses ran free.
And the thousand horses ran free.
I notice resting inside your eyes
and heart hasn't been so hard. Wrestling for you,
holding you,
like a child, it hasn't
been so different.
I'm taking you back there, Eve
into the Land of Eden,
just drink of my lips
a little longer and you'll remember
and see.
Do you like to dance, Eve?
Let me make your imagination full
Then let me bring it to war as we step
into it's gates.
Let’s Dance.
For the wind of the evening
still weaves dreams between
the heavens and the earth.
There. Look.
For your heart outshines the moon, I see the hurt, the regret
The pain in the pool of you precious eyes.
And I still see you, I still love you
For you.
I hear the rhythm of your breath
and dreams, the electricity and earth
of your voice. I see the blood written
words in your heart, let me show you what
they are.
Now see the memories come
together, as you believe.
The endless garden,
the red cedars,
the cool four rivers crashing
near the rock, where we once slept.
And look, where we hid.
See, like I promised you, we are here again,
we are here.
Where the petals sip the dew upon
the face of the earth.
where the rain and the moonlight has
not fallen.
Now look at the stars, Eve. Everyone of those stars
are named, the star of Orion, the Bear,
and Leo, everyone of them.
Everyone of them will fall
Everyone of them,
Everyone of them.
So don't be afraid in your pain
in your feelings,
just come to me.
For you can take my hand,
and be safe in my arms of
love. Even when it all falls.
Even when it all comes crashing down.
Just
Trust me.
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200 votes?
100 comments?
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 12:08 AM UTC
Praise thy Lord Our GOD, Praise GOD In His Sanctuary.!
Apr 29, 2015
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Praise thy Lord Our GOD from Heavens, Praise THEE In Heigths.! Praise GOD All His Angels, Praise GOD All His Hosts.!
Praise HIM, Sun And Moon, Praise HIM All You Stars Of Light.! Praise GOD Thou Heavens, and Thou Waters above thy Heavens.! Let them Praise thy Name Oh Lord Our GOD, for HE Commanded and thou were Created. HE also Established thou Forever And Ever, He Made And Mode A Decree which shall not Pass away. Praise thy LORD from thy Earth, thou Great Sea Creatures and All thy depths... Fire and Hails, Snow and Clouds, Stormy wind, Fulfilling HIS Word.. Mountains And All Hills, Fruitful Trees and All Cedars.. Beasts and All Cattles, Creeping things and Flying Fowl... Kings of the Earth and All Kinds, Princes and All Judges Of the Earth. both Young Men and Maidens, Old Men and Children.. Let them Praise thy Name of the Lord Our GOD, For HIS Name Alone Is Exalted, His Glory is Above the Earth And Heaven... And He Has Exalted thy Horn Of His People, the Praise Of All His Saints Of thy Children Of Isreal, A People Near to Him, Praise thy LORD... Halleluyah... GOD Is Our Strength.. GOD Is Love.. GOD With Us.!!!
Apr 29, 2015
Apr 29, 2015 at 3:18 AM UTC
I think it quite strange living here walled by this house
when I was wilder than now I lived in nature
stalking birds and pollen laden things
always my toes in sands or hot footed in summer.
I was in love with the sky, no matter the weather
in storms I hid beneath branching cedars
sleeping on mossy pillows, in the woods of my backyard.
I never gave much thought to houses then, I only went there
to sleep or eat and waited to leave again
waited for an inkling of sun to warm the cold grass
spent days climbing trees, red plums and cherries
I imagined that's how life would always be,
living outdoors under the sun or clouds
wet with rain, always picking flowers.
Aug 28, 2017
Aug 28, 2017 at 10:49 PM UTC
The old lady planted roses near the corner by the driveway
She never planted roses by the door
I remember once she told me, "Bees come out to get the nectar"
And a bee sting can be deadly or quite sore
Instead, she planted herbs along the walkway to her cottage
You'd pass by, the scent was rather nice
Rubbing rosemary and lemon grass and sage against your trousers
Sometimes you would even walk by twice
She had hollyhocks and primrose, a classic English garden
Lots of fragrant trees and bushes there as well
There were cedars by the windows and hyacinth close by
If she even had a lawn, you couldn't tell
There were irises and tulips, daffodils and more
And great bushes of white lavender abound
Not only was the lawn gone, with the bushes and the trees
I bet from inside you'd nary hear a sound
Around the back the same thing, exactly as the front
Herbs and plant life, and I'd say maybe more
Than all the plants in Englands Kew Gardens have to see
And more lilacs by the walkway by the door
The vents from down the basement blew through cedars and the lilacs
Sending warming scents around the clustered yard
There were windows to the basement, blocked by flowers and the trees
And to see in was really rather hard
The one day I remember when I came out to the house
Is one I know I'll not forget
For walking down the pathway with a policeman on each side
Was the old lady with a look of deep regret
It seems the scented flowers and the bushes and the trees
Provided scents to hide the smells from deep inside
The air was vented out directly through the flowers
The house was just a grow op in disguise
Mar 27, 2013
Mar 27, 2013 at 11:58 AM UTC
I think in Japanese,
write down my thoughts in English,
then twist it all back into sushi:
a tasty bite to eat.
My mind is like origami
folding thoughts into meditation;
meditation unfolds
into a crisp sheet of city lights.
I love you big much,
love you big time;
I love the way you giggle nervously.
Titter-titter,
"Tee-hee-hee!"
It must be amazing to find everything so funny.
Big city, sake sunset;
a karaoke moon rises
over a robotic, neon inception.
(transmutation)
Transformers, Transformers:
autobotic-neurotic Bumblebee
comes to the aid of Samurai Prime.
"Autobots, transform!!"
Bored of the bright lights?
Weary of the snappy-happy gaijin
doing photo-photo
while they look for a sweet sakura-panpan?
Then take a leisurely stroll up to Hokkaido,
where there's less sucky-sucky,
and more bow-down-low-austerity
alongside the 108 gongs a-bonging.
Chant a few prayers,
speak with the sacred cedars,
take a dip in the hot springs
with some smiling monkeys,
and watch snow fall, together.
Nippon, you offer everything.
I can eat 20 times a day
without gaining a pound.
There's always more room
for miso, chanko nabe, shabu-shabu,
gyozo, okonomiyaki—
I am going to stop writing this list
so that I don't drown in my saliva.
I refuse to look back,
refuse to go back to the boredom
of white picket fences and hamburger dreams;
I want to stay here forever.
I love you big much,
love you big time;
totemo ureshii da.
March 1st, 2012
Mar 9, 2012
Mar 9, 2012 at 10:17 AM UTC
780
The Truth—is stirless—
Other force—may be presumed to move—
This—then—is best for confidence—
When oldest Cedars swerve—
And Oaks untwist their fists—
And Mountains—feeble—lean—
How excellent a Body, that
Stands without a Bone—
How vigorous a Force
That holds without a Prop—
Truth stays Herself—and every man
That trusts Her—boldly up—
3.5k
Oh what is that country
And where can it be,
Not mine own country,
But dearer far to me?
Yet mine own country,
If I one day may see
Its spices and cedars,
Its gold and ivory.
As I lie dreaming
It rises, that land;
There rises before me
Its green golden strand,
With the bowing cedars
And the shining sand;
It sparkles and flashes
Like a shaken brand.
Do angels lean nearer
While I lie and long?
I see their soft plumage
And catch their windy song,
Like the rise of a high tide
Sweeping full and strong;
I mark the outskirts
Of their reverend throng.
Oh what is a king here,
Or what is a boor?
Here all starve together,
All dwarfed and poor;
Here Death's hand knocketh
At door after door,
He thins the dancers
From the festal floor.
Oh what is a handmaid,
Or what is a queen?
All must lie down together
Where the turf is green,
The foulest face hidden,
The fairest not seen;
Gone as if never
They had breathed or been.
Gone from sweet sunshine
Underneath the sod,
Turned from warm flesh and blood
To senseless clod;
Gone as if never
They had toiled or trod,
Gone out of sight of all
Except our God.
Shut into silence
From the accustomed song
Shut into solitude
From all earth's throng,
Run down though swift of foot,
Thrust down though strong;
Life made an end of,
Seemed it short or long.
Life made an end of,
Life but just begun;
Life finished yesterday,
Its last sand run;
Life new-born with the morrow
Fresh as the sun:
While done is done for ever;
Undone, undone.
And if that life is life,
This is but a breath,
The passage of a dream
And the shadow of death;
But a vain shadow
If one considereth;
Vanity of vanities,
As the Preacher saith.
3.2k
On the land of our family
Are the ashes of generations.
Each generation planted with the saplings of the trees
The Cedar, The Fir, The Larch, and The Mountain Ash
Standing regal in the sun's early light.
It is a new day
Standing under their boughs
Comforted by ancestral arms touching
In a circle of Love and Light.
What is emerging?
Sprouting up from under the Sphagnum
It's a seed! Raising its head
Peeking up, and stretching towards the sun.
Ever upward it expands
Though nights of rain and clouds.
Through days of heat and seeming drought.
Yet the seedling grows and endures
Bent by the late summer winds
The fiber of wisdom ever increasing within its core.
At the end of Indian Summer
The frost begins to unleash its chill
The young sapling freezes
As the blanket of white thickens across the land.
With the weight upon it's back
In humility the sapling bends low to kiss the earth.
Bravely holding this asana in the coldest of the winter days.
Today by my window
I am basking in the sunlight of a very early spring,
Bright are shimmering reflections of sunlight snow.
Squinting, with eyes half open and eyes half closed
The small rainbows begin to dance
Between each pair of lashes.
A delighted inner child
Chuckling with joy.
I can hear the sound of water running
And ice falling from the rooftops above.
The snow is finally melting!
The tall cedar boughs dance with the wind.
Up and down, releasing their winter coats
As Ice crystals floating on the air.
Gazing across the white wonder
To the very spot where I last saw our little tree
What of the little seedling?
Is it still alive?
Or broken and crush by the ice and snow?
My musing over the Cedar Sapling
Shifted with a gasping surprise
It sprung up!
Announcing "I am still alive!"
And my inner voice giggled with delight.
Hum, I wonder
Do trees have a heart?
Do they perceive beyond their bark?
Do they remember?
In this very moment the sapling's sudden appearance
During my musing seemed to express, "Yes!"
Is it just a deep enduring feeling
That the elders of this world
Are the 400+ year old Cedars
Keeping their long record of time?
My dear little sapling
may you continue to grow into magnificence.
I will only see your first 100 years.
For your last four hundred
Allow me to lie at your roots
Under the Sphagnum from which you sprung.
And my children will water flowers at your base
That you may grow as the guardian of the ancestor
Who planted your seed and watched you grow.
Yes, the very one who is now delighted that you
Have popped up from under your blanket of snow.
Jan 24, 2019
Jan 24, 2019 at 2:46 AM UTC
Mists of beauty
Sprinkles of rain
Rain-covered leaves
On the beautiful trees
Raindrops on the green grass
Raindrops everywhere
Raindrops on the lacy ferns
Raindrops everywhere I turn
Pines and evergreens
And lovely cedars sweet
Saturated in raindrop kisses
Such a lovely prelude
The misty forest
Is enchanted
This I say
This forest
Is enchanted
No matter what
This is where Fairies live
This is where Fairies dance
This is where their wings flutter
In the ever blowing breeze
This is where the harps
Are played
This is where their songs are sung
This is where the Fairies harp
Plays nocturnal melodies
And graceful notes
This is where my Fairies live
~Marian~
May 18, 2013
May 18, 2013 at 3:41 PM UTC
Be still my soul, be still
Dont worry about the open tomb
There is a reason, why is this happening
Trust Him, instead of doubting
He has drawn the portrait
In a perfect beauty and form
Learn to adapt this moment
Look at whats ahead of this
Its a guarantee to find answer that is unknown
Reflect, ponder each of this
Open this eyes like a first time
Like a new born baby
Be excited to the future
Evaluate this heart O God
Echo again the words in my ears
It is finished, it is finished
The curtain was cut into two
O through Your blood I am victorious
Nothing in this world can separate
This life was meant for You
Burn me with fire from heaven
Strengthen this redeem man
I need You this all day long
Apr 21, 2010
Apr 21, 2010 at 5:25 PM UTC
Under the shade of weeping willow trees
The air is filled with birdsong an anthem sweet and beautiful
The soft sweet song of the bubbling creek
The fragrance of honeysuckles drifts from the forgotten garden
Where daffodils, violets, and many other flowers grow
Mountains high and valleys low covered in the cloak of spring
Hunter-green cedars and deep-green firs sway in the dancing breeze
Even the lonesome desert and vast wilderness
With its pretty sunrises and sunsets bears its own beauty
Morning glories in the Enchanted Forest unfurl their soft sweet petals
At Dusk when all are sleep
Sunrays shining through the dew covered leaves of the majestic trees
Waves wash onto the sea of time where lots of creatures live
And where fishes and sea turtles peep up out of the ocean
Where palm trees grow their lacy-green leaves providing shade for all
Where rocky island cliffs hold treasures forgotten a long time ago
When pirates hunted for gold
Where old forgotten battleships are at the bottom of the ocean
And the people on them long since dead. . .
Pearls and treasures hidden from sight at the bottom of the ocean
Where dolphins sleep and play ready to save some swimmer
Sea-green coral and seaweed are pretty ocean plants
Seashells at the very bottom of the ocean
Seagulls sing to one another from the coconut trees and many other birds sing a
Tropical anthem blending with the sweet perfume of hibiscus and a lone tropical girl
Plays a sweet song on the ukulele
And the horse gallops on the sandy shore happily enjoying his freedom
And the world to all is beautiful
Tropical sunsets blazing dark goldish- orange with the silhouettes of palm trees
On the beautiful rocky island
And the world is hushed to sleep with the tropical lullaby of the singing waves
When the world awakes with dew the sweet hibiscus
~Marian~
Feb 15, 2013
Feb 15, 2013 at 6:34 PM UTC
The South wind said to the palms:
My lovers sing me psalms;
But are they as warm as those
That Laylah's lover knows?
The North wind said to the firs:
I have my worshippers;
But are they as keen as hers?
The East wind said to the cedars:
My friends are no seceders;
But is their faith to me
As firm as his faith must be?
The West wind said to the yews:
My children are pure as dews;
But what of her lover's muse?
So to spite the summer weather
The four winds howled together.
But a great Voice from above
Cried: What do you know of love?
Do you think all nature worth
The littlest life upon earth?
I made the germ and the ant,
The tiger and elephant.
In the least of these there is more
Than your elemental war.
And the lovers whom ye slight
Are precious in my sight.
Peace to your mischief-brewing!
I love to watch their wooing.
Of all this Laylah heard
Never a word.
She lay beneath the trees
With her lover at her knees.
He sang of God above
And of love.
She lay at his side
Well satisfied,
And at set of sun
They were one.
Before they slept her pure smile curled;
"God bless all lovers in the World!"
And so say I the self-same word;
Nor doubt God heard.
2.9k
Over the horizon, lost in confusion,
came the sad night, pregnant with stars.
I, like the bearded mage of the tales,
knew the language of stones and flowers.
I learned the secrets of melancholy,
told by cypresses, nettles and ivy;
I knew the dream from lips of nard,
sang serene songs with the irises.
In the old forest, filled with its blackness,
all of them showed me the souls they have;
the pines, drunk on aroma and sound;
the old olives, burdened with knowledge;
the dead poplars, nests for the ants;
the moss, snowy with white violets.
All spoke tenderly to my heart
trembling in threads of rustling silk
where water involves motionless things,
like a web of eternal harmony.
The roses there were sounding the lyre,
oaks weaving the gold of legends,
and amidst their virile sadness
the junipers spoke of rustic fears.
I knew all the passion of woodland;
rhythms of leaves, rhythms of stars.
But tell me, oh cedars, if my heart
will sleep in the arms of perfect light!
I know the lyre you prophesy, roses:
fashioned of strings from my dead life.
Tell me what pool I might leave it in,
as former passions are left behind!
I know the mystery you sing of, cypress;
I am your brother of night and pain;
we hold inside us a tangle of nests,
you of nightingales, I of sadness!
I know your endless enchantment, old olive tree,
yielding us blood you extract from the Earth,
like you, I extract with my feelings
the sacred oil
held by ideas!
You all overwhelm me with songs;
I ask only for my uncertain one;
none of you will quell the anxieties
of this chaste fire
that burns in my breast.
O laurel divine, with soul inaccessible,
always so silent,
filled with nobility!
Pour in my ears your divine history,
all your wisdom, profound and sincere!
Tree that produces fruits of the silence,
maestro of kisses and mage of orchestras,
formed from Daphne's roseate flesh
with Apollo's potent sap in your veins!
O high priest of ancient knowledge!
O solemn mute, closed to lament!
All your forest brothers speak to me;
only you, harsh one, scorn my song!
Perhaps, oh maestro of rhythm, you muse
on the pointlessness of the poet's sad weeping.
Perhaps your leaves, flecking by the moonlight,
forgo all the illusions of spring.
The delicate tenderness of evening,
that covered the path with black dew,
holding out a vast canopy to night,
came solemnly, pregnant with stars.
2.5k
DEAR PENPAL PEOPLE, no white the rest just black:\
reason to a reason faith held one capture
applauded reaches to fallen devils may fracture
prisoners of grace in ten hells same
on cedars that know no angel to not shame
one beat on the downtown line
once in twenty life times
stars align hailing pain
scars betrayed the blood of a shed stain
haunt a child of a pure soul no more
shadows chased for a find of bullet core
if money were on trees
then lands are leaf free
look the eye no lie
to a scratched unhidden cry
poison spreads a four feet stare
is it even of those a matter of fair
royal flushed they think a game under the rugs shipped
rushed hearts a lifeless drink on mindless sipped
ashes called out happy hour not shredded unlit
double vision as grown as useless as toxic as it
dropped corpses the live left to ache
hurt silenced been forever drowned on stake
worst of a future misery
crusted crumble like nothingness a cemetery
thunder smells
plaster lacked on dwells
I may not blurt wounds
because these things are
not nursed doomed
I know the knuckles of the cursor when I see
an everlasting torture painting smudges dancing in same place selfishly
-------ravenfeels
Jun 19, 2021
Jun 19, 2021 at 3:35 PM UTC
*Snow Falling On Cedars
The Dream: Death 1
snow, falling on Cedars,
soft and gentle,
is like your whisper’d breath
spoken in silent wisps
of warmth felt seductively
on my ears.
Each flake
a kiss,
a thought
of lavender
and honey’d dew drops
caressing my lips.
It’s a sensual touch
the way my face
curves into your fingers;
into the smile
of your eyes
finding the sparkle of mine.
The Reality: Death 2
snow falling on Cedars
is a Winter’s kiss;
the emptiness of white,
of hard pack’d earth
and its message of death.
Your fingers are cold,
your lips frozen, lifeless
and wrinkl’d with the too sweet
taste of rancid fruit.
It is a brittle, cruel love
that mingles in this wasteland,
infecting
and influencing hope
and the dreams of light
with the bleak melancholy of despair.
The Finale:
snow falling on Cedars,
the darkness of vengeful breath
covers everything with the
emptiness of white;
softly
gently
like whispers of silent death.
Aztec Warrior/redzone 8.13.16*
Aug 14, 2016
Aug 14, 2016 at 8:08 AM UTC
657
I dwell in Possibility—
A fairer House than Prose—
More numerous of Windows—
Superior—for Doors—
Of Chambers as the Cedars—
Impregnable of Eye—
And for an Everlasting Roof
The Gambrels of the Sky—
Of Visitors—the fairest—
For Occupation—This—
The spreading wide of narrow Hands
To gather Paradise—
2k
PRIME OF FIRE. RESORT
Last night the Moon was still rises
That is silver cord
And I wake up and the station of London Eve
In my dream
with glory
Venus . But love
driving all burning love and you looking at the mirror of passion
are we forget the Greece birth
Damascus at night
where
I CAN SAY NOT WELCOME TO ATLANTIC ARMIES
for ever and ever and ever
like the waves dancing with beauty land
The Earth waiting my Lady love
through all life
and passionate kisses
home for love and home for deep passion
CAN I LOVE YOU ??
FOR EVER and ever
THE SECOND PART OF ANY SPRING
love wealth flower in your cedars and pines
are we do love over do
new for modern times
out Jupiter
Sep 4, 2011
Sep 4, 2011 at 7:28 AM UTC
Weep! locusts! weep!
Thou rasping chorus overflows
blending into sultry dusk of June
and deepening nightfall
nocturnal whispers of perfumed
pines and cedars listen in hushed wonder
Echo the dirge of my bleeding heart!
and shattered dreams
Weep! O let thy song be heard!
Voices blended in such melody
harsh though sweet
Wail thy sad sad song!
Thou who reflect a thousand lost yesterdays
and infinite heartbreaking tomorrows...
~Hilda~
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 3:42 PM UTC
This unnatural light
like the last summer
before the last winter
sends the grackles
into the cedars
rattling their wings
in the evergreens
making a sound like Ishmael
casting his bones
on the deck of Ahab's ship.
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 7:03 AM UTC