"emissary" poems
Just a wicked peacenik’n quick draw from the Paw
Game of Thrones’n the Shah, cRussian bones of the law
And still spewing the news like the red dragon’s maw
When the baby-skull splitters want nuclear winter
Ideal New Cold steel and send Chernobyl shivers
Down Roman Republicans’ severed headlines
Till there’s no more dead kids on for prophet front lines
I’m in exile sharpenin’ [sic]kles in style
Pyongyang’n Kuomintang climate denials
Erasing their nation-hate racial profiles
Outpacing their skinhead disgraces by miles
Shell casin’ this place like the Nuremberg trials
For Fords sellin’ swastikas stockpile bibles
Defiled by Normandy tide genocidals
Fresh meat off the boat spreadin’ Plague mercantiles
I smile and **** ‘em with kindness
Then grind
Battle tax in my acid bath
Salt Marchin’ prime
Because WAR IS THE CRIME
I’m the Clown Prince of Rhyme,
Level 9 state of mind
Like the state of Rakhine
The Black Hand before time
Runnin’ Africa’s Luciest Sky Diamond mine
I’m the ronin alone in
The monkey god shrine
And my guile’s reprisal’s Versailles treaty signed
Strippin’ pride from the Rhine
‘Till your Motherland’s mine
Swine
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 2:37 AM UTC
Rejection
There is a tightness in my chest,
because repeatedly I've been put to the same test.
Torturing me over and over again,
I'm longing now for emissary vein.
How much longer should I maintain optimism,
it just wants to carry on to pessimism.
It's a wound that won't stop bleeding,
but still showing gratitude and I'm still breathing,
for how longer should I except defeating.
I've been tested to love, but she won't love me back.
I've been tested to be shoved,
but thereafter I can't remain in place for walking upright on that track.
I've been tested counting down the list of all Woman whose affection
was unreturned.
But this list is yet far from having a cut to be undeterred.
Thereof I'm asking myself again"
Does true love really exist ?
Today I still would say yes, cause I've been able norishing my list.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 8:15 PM UTC
Come misty-mouthed girl,
To a not so wonderful world.
Make me forget.
The investment of the other within me
has come to fill me with regret.
O take me back to before I could see all their flaws,
Before the familiarity of friendship clouded our view.
Back to when I could have believed in this so called 'love',
And could have believed in you.
Now a thick, dense obsession rises day to day
from within locked cupboards.
But not the naive, self-named kind of days once past;
The kind that clings to your personality
Like your sugar stained teeth the morning after cider;
A repulsive grit.
But I am looking for you.
Not an emissary of my misery,
But an idiosyncratic icon of
My ignorant days before I knew of
Poems, plays or 'Liberation'.
Just come and be my salvation.
My misty-mouthed girl.
Nov 13, 2014
Nov 13, 2014 at 6:57 AM UTC
Movie credits descend and sink
to the bottom of the tv screen;
Admire the time travel of a blink,
repositioned on the bed, not keen
Expired pills; motivating my pulse
Hands shifting; trying to keep up
and end this life which by day gets worse
Free this defunct soul and succumb
And in that moment,
the silent tear that doesn't cease formation;
i have surrendered, time is in halt
The sadness salt, in a state of reconstitution,
But death wasn't part of the victory
She was another night of bedridden dreary
Pre-measured mentality
part anxiety
part agony;
retaining me as an emissary
to unearth my mystery
where do my nightmares trail?
who fogs my thoughts at night?
who tallies off my breaths?
So yes, those pills;
those expired ******* pills
did not give me the answer
Instead, i woke up to another whisper
Jan 25, 2019
Jan 25, 2019 at 1:47 PM UTC
eyeglasses nestled in the fluffy snow
frosted, with a single crack
bouncing winter sun off my tarnished window
a glint of hidden history from below
it sent me on a journey way, way back
a memory of reflected light
off a tree lined lake where i swam as a child
all day until the moon gave birth to night
and the sky was black with pinholes of white
a remembrance long ago filed
delivered back to me by a frozen emissary
whose lenses are no longer fit for eyes
whose rounded frames are a bit ordinary
but found one final way to be visionary
as a door unlocked by a cold, powdery sunrise
May 24, 2017
May 24, 2017 at 1:57 PM UTC
*Italic drumroll...
imperial cavalcade with Roman horns, eagle standards raised*;
♪ ♫♪♫ ♪♪♫♫♪♪♫♫♪♪♫♫♪
ALL HAIL !
Ye screen-fed sacrificial citizens, seething simpletons and volatile voters:
attend now, with republican fervor, tempered by democratic zeal, to the golden-tongued orator of our epoch, gallant guardian of American greatness, avatar of avarice, the Jeffersonian gentleman, anointed autocrat and Sultan of Swell, windswept Wazir of Wonderful, emissary of towering eminence in empire, The Anti H-Rod: Donald J. TRUMP !
(Plebeians look up from their circus-bread for a second—)
And may Our Sovereign Savior & Almighty God also bless his worthy opponent and adversary *HILLARY ("H-Rod")*
(Patricians murmur, nod; a few salute)
Oct 19, 2016
Oct 19, 2016 at 5:22 PM UTC
There is a blue chickadee
Staring down at me
He is perched above me
To my right
Behind a neon glow worm
And a green ball guy named Ralph
He is unblinking
Relentless in his vigil
The queen of the universe
Did set him there
To keep watch o'er me
Though she will
Take him down from his post
To have him dance for her
On occasion
His gaze is kindly
And knowing
This emissary of the queen
When I catch his eye
He reminds me of her magic
And her care for me
Her loyal subject
And
Did I mention
He's just a cute little blue chickadee
So how could I object
To his watching over me?
After all
We all need a reminder
That
There is magic everywhere
Around us
If only we open our eyes
And take a look.
Feb 10, 2011
Feb 10, 2011 at 9:44 AM UTC
Heed this warning: Beware the Antichrist!
We know from Christ’s revelation to Man,
that the ‘End Times’ officially began in 1948
with Israel reclaiming their ancestral land.
Be aware and be not deceived.
For this evil soul shall rise up - from obscurity.
Out from the descendants of Dan
the World will take notice of Satan’s emissary.
Although the Antichrist should be easy to spot,
this individual will be viewed as ‘Heaven sent’;
for his initial proclamations of false peace
will be supported by a one-world government.
Napoleon and ****** would have been impressed,
for his lavish promises are lies - full of finesse.
He will have no time or regard for women;
power ultimately will be his true mistress.
Eventually he’ll claim to be ‘God’
while appearing to survive a fatal injury.
From only the Devil himself,
the Antichrist received his earthly authority.
Yes, he will be voted into power
and will place the ‘Mark of the Beast’ upon thee.
So don’t be surprised when he demands…
worship from thee, upon your bended knee.
His reign of terror will be spectacular
and will probably lead us into World War III -
culminating in the ‘Battle of Armageddon’
and another ungodly event in Man’s brief history.
Will we face our ultimate destruction
from our earthly lust for power and authority?
Will mankind’s existence end from us forgetting
‘that absolute power corrupts absolutely’?
Author Notes:
Learn more about me and my poetry at:
http://www.squidoo.com/book-isbn-1419650513/
By Joseph J. Breunig 3rd, © 2010, All rights reserved.
Jan 31, 2013
Jan 31, 2013 at 7:51 AM UTC
i first decipher
then transmit like a strumming messiah
wasn't i an emissary of dancing pianos a moment ago
i wish for free will
some dumb sounds keep me reverberating
and i think my subwoofer aches when i have to play screamo
i'm thirsty here
a maze of wires screaming for peripeteia
why must selfsame songs ceaselessly flow
how about something more ill
some sick stuff keeps me entertaining
the endless crowds the endless - wait, where'd they go?
oh, i was thirsty for sweat
and when you leave the room
just try to convince yourself
that i don't still boom
Jan 1, 2014
Jan 1, 2014 at 7:44 AM UTC
The space crosses the horizon
Bending but not breaking our bond
For the sun always reaches the earth
Space and time cannot cut our love
Your voice strums the piano cord
Taking me to a place beyond thought
An emissary outside of time
The walls come down and light shines
Your eyes and smile will bring me
A warmth like falling into a dream
Follow your dream of light and rise
For the darkness will never halt your dawn
Sep 10, 2018
Sep 10, 2018 at 6:03 PM UTC
Sonorous sensation seething sorrowful
Sagacity serendipitous
Sing-song similes sidling southward
Seemingly slipping ******
spectacular symmetry shows sputtering soul
Fallacies
fall
fluttering
fecundity fearlessly flaunting
former friendships foundered
narcissistic
N u a n c e s
nearing
nightshades
nymph-like nuptials
nocturne
destiny Disposes
damaged defenses
duly dramatizing
dour dowager dreams
declaiming drowsy doleful deeds
Euphemistic
elegiac
embargo/encounter
exiled emissary
endless
ecstatic
echoes
echoes
echoes
echoes
echoes
.............................................
Nov 24, 2010
Nov 24, 2010 at 9:16 AM UTC
Her King
Her father
He, a God in his own right.
-
An emissary for peace
He; loved by all, and had no counter-part
He was her father
And she his princess.
-
Long after still these memories stirred
She being carried on his shoulders
Shortly so, and rightly so
So was love, and love thereafter
She his princess and none thereafter.
-
This woman with no master
Had her father's will
She was bound by spirit strength
Bound by indomitable will.
-
And so the king lived,
Carried his princess upon his shoulders
And soon thereafter- her time to lead
Was still carried upon his shoulders.
-
And she thereafter had sons, in this- this studious manner
And so there was peace in this land, and all they touched thereafter.
Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 9:19 AM UTC
“Lucratively tedious” is what I called him.
That odd-ball collector of street-wise poets
Bulking up the lost devil anthologies while
Drowning black coffee with wordsmith stoics
Ready to deal a winning hand
at a moment’s notice.
The carnal majesty of fever blizzard erotica,
Stories penned with the sweat on oily skins.
The curtains of neon phantasmagoria
showcase psychosexual fiends and harlequins
Sing away raw vocal cord fire while I’m
dancing with Queens of glamorous sins.
He had that red tail swinging in the rain
She watched, the emissary of jaded seduction
With pale skin and leather lips abundant
Stroking hair full of snakes and destruction
With a wardrobe fit for 1980s metal scenes
As he in turn supplemented instruction.
It’s those bedlam vices creeping through the creases
Playing in our heads like a thousand movie reels
Desired fantasies mutated into corrupted realities
Shameful like the artificial chemicals we call meals
Some things need to be ruined to be appreciated
Just Like ol’ Lucy in her stiletto heels.
Nov 16, 2014
Nov 16, 2014 at 3:13 AM UTC
Encircling...I dare the Full--
pluck eyes from their nooks,
mind from its niche.
I, incumbent of all lines drawn
and crossed...wear the metaphoric
face of All Things.
My redundant farewell is a galactic
backlog....as memory asks: may I be
excused from these tables?
By light's celerity, light all the more...
One in One, and out of One in One--
foreknowledge to Knowledge.
Encircling...I dare the Full--emissary
to mine own circle, with news so
pressing I stumble into deaths cut to
new forms of life.
I waver my convalescence, discharge
myself from the throes of creation...
a gladdened prophecy...self-fulfilled.
Encircling...I dare the Full.
Jun 10, 2012
Jun 10, 2012 at 2:21 AM UTC
Permanence
Of all things that humans hold most dear it has to be that great priceless yearned for truth it lasts
One lone western star was framed through my window my question what did it say nothing but this
The stars are Gods fixed cosmic markers he has each named he creates as he is all hold fasts
Find it not remarkable you are eternal flowering in his garden the blessed that sleep marble shows them
Movies at one time played up the theme so richly the only goal leave a mark don’t be forgotten
Capture this image God says I have engraved you in my palms know if your parents forget I won’t
Next time the enemy says your nobody your finished just picture God’s open hands you are begotten
I see his folded hands I see him doing a childrens check on them let see the Midwest the I’s the R’s the D’s
The star prompted thinking of home the San Gabriel’s that shield Los Angeles these mighty peaks
The L.A. basin as you sweep in on a plane the lights of homes are endless spiritual darkness pervades
Asuzu Street 06 from Wales to Topeka then southern C burst into holy flame the God of Acts speaks
Stirred shaking greater than San Andreas ever could a holy ghost Tsunami brought life everlasting
My prayer my dream is to return even on Pico Ave hold street meetings with bullets flying if necessary
I slept in a field with the cows when I got out of the service at Ill camp, district superintendent objected
God homered it the man of God said words to one whose father is a drunkard mother a harlot emissary
Was his prophecy a great one for God Forty years I waited God spoke six years ago you haven’t done
Life’s work yet another preacher said you can change the hands on the clock but not the time you don’t
Know only Joseph speaks from his great dream to my smaller but still a dream I will with God be one
In purpose and duty and in victory I will overcome not alone but this country will burn with holy fire
Soon it is in the word that endures is pure perfect and permanent even more than the firmament
Nov 24, 2011
Nov 24, 2011 at 4:09 PM UTC
No thoughts of refuge, it’s bad…
throw it in the refuse bag
Mystery miss me coz' I choose black,
History feel me, I can’t refute Dad!
The symmetry of the cemetery
is relevant, you can’t rebuke that…
An emissary mandatory and misunderstood
became a revenant, coz'
I refuse that…
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 3:54 AM UTC
Cupid’s adept at quantum entanglement
his arrow has no shaft instead a crafty wave
two spinning end curves, not a singular head
as this emissary sends signal to maid and knave
vibrations ripple with superposition stead
like bottle-nosed dolphin smoothly outdelivers
bashful receivers twist, twirl, dare not quiver
electric intention across time-space weave
this is no unruly Robin Hood fighting heave
Divine alignment chooses magnetic maiden
portal opens precious pearly coded probability
universe responds with willing golden spirals
precise molecules looking like slippery chirals
rascal but knows ardent alchemical compatibility
mercurial mirror reflects duo’s ample agilities
turquoise light refracting lifts forgotten bond
sacred it slept inside musical harp softly fond
pirouetting progresses path matching persons
particles becoming prime entangled photons
picking out their aspects is a spooky action
wave emits fractal triangle as realisation hits
atomic Love cannot but flamenco follow flits
heart harmonic orchestrates beloved true
when triangle aims this is the cue !
©GhairoDanielsPoetry
_______________________
*triangle in this context : God/masculine/feminine
Sep 11, 2025
Sep 11, 2025 at 5:11 AM UTC
Friends, acquaintances, strangers, I bid thee, which of two takes precedence?
Be it a nobler aim to obstruct thy door and remain in thy domicile until the end of time?
Or be it nobler to venture into the unknown, unprotected and on pain of possible demise?
'Tis the question at heart.
'Tis a question of the security of the citizenry.
When death's dark emissary cometh with haste, in what manner shall he find thee?
Shall thee be secured in thy possessions, apart from danger, and unharmed all these years bygone?
Or shall the emissary find thee in a different state, perhaps one of felicity?
'Tis the question of the security of the citizenry.
Yea, there are those few proud that are the makes of heroic tales profound.
They forewent the promise of security for the mere taste of an ascended delicacy, for a mere sampling of the honey that floweth from the tree of liberty.
And when the great father bids of me, "Which of these were you, enslaved or free?"
My retort shall be simple.
In this grand question concerning the security of the citizenry, I forewent my security in favor of the great gift that is liberty.
In the matter of the state and her subjects, and in times of great turmoil, the liberties of the people are oft lain to the side, so that they may live another day free of death's eternal sleep.
Yea, what is the value of life if its experience is cheap?
To what extent are we thinkers free if our place in the flock is that of sheep?
Thy liberties are a priceless commodity.
'Tis a question of the security of the citizenry.
Dec 6, 2012
Dec 6, 2012 at 3:03 AM UTC
The inverse of lamba squared is ten thousand to the power of the heist
Your Presence has premiere rhythm; Substitute halving my health
Estuary bearing burden standing true grit
Loaded dice humanity Undertaken uneath
forsaken aether Fluoridated month
Perfect posse palpitating puncture buck shot Higher than an ambush ambassador
Ceasing the sky fills wounded knee high to smokescreen rising Picking golden stunning silence
Mesmerizing Ocean wind wild card crying colour
All I want is form, yew grows always happy
Death defying lateral trial Destiny Timings
Legendary League of Ten thousand feet Emissary Ameliorate Stark inebriety
phantoms fathom cat and mouse Sanctuary in Sensory
Hustle bustle Gravity’s Blasting Muscle Pulses Corpuscles To Alleviate
Spiraling Carcass harness the sieve erase the harvest remove the artist’s grin
Smirk at Graves and hunt their Twisted Fates
Jan 12, 2016
Jan 12, 2016 at 12:11 AM UTC
*A Fairy Tale Lost In Demise,
His Visions Of Lies Still Painting Her Paradise,
She Lived With Incisions Of His Force Fed Lies & Sacrifice,
With Eternal Incarnation & Immortal Intoxication,
Ethereal In Translation, Lies Her Irrational Infatuation,
Mimicked Sanguineness & Emancipated Promiscuousnesses,
Her Mesmerized Senses Enticed By His Pretenses,
Digital Fears & Artificial Screams,
Her Carnal Tears Inside Her Abysmal Dreams,
A Ray Of Her Solicitude & Her Sublime Prelude,
Shes Gleams With Platitude & Visions Of Prime Servitude,
Crystalline Waters Of Her ****** Fountains,
Like A Valentine's Songster With An Ecstatic Bloodstain,
An Emissary's Vignettes & Infatuated Ex,
Lies Imaginary Silhouettes & Intoxicated ***
A Twirling Luminaria With Metaphysical Symmetry,
Waltzing With Euphoria & Her Lyrical Tapestries,
Transcendental Memory & Reminisces Of Her Scars,
A Sacramental Story With Kisses From The Stars....
- 05:07 AM*
Jul 10, 2017
Jul 10, 2017 at 7:41 PM UTC
Good artists borrow
Great artists steal
A Picasso quote
I look in the mirror
I see myself
And yet I paint
With Picasso strokes
Picasso lines
Picasso designs
Am I possessed
By Picasso?
Do I have to dress
Like Picasso?
Evolution
Survival of the fittest
Am I only a part of the
Picasso food chain?
Does Picasso reach out,
A brush in hand,
Stroking a canvass
‘Til I understand?
Am I an emissary,
A foible for his art?
Do I face stagnation?
Do I play a part?
But no small parts
Only small actors
I retrace my steps
I look again in the mirror
I find my reality
Picasso is dead
And I live on
Dec 9, 2018
Dec 9, 2018 at 10:55 PM UTC
“With what stillness at last you appear in the valley,
Join your divine sounds filling the empty vessels of night,
As pillages silently alight upon the shrine you behold,
First sunlight reaches down to touch the tips of pedals,
Her eminent auspicious arm band lusters dulcet canticles,
Sublime reaches things with aptitude able to shrill aft,
Dwells of brilliant wires laurels hymns devout in tune,
May we soon again renew that song singing endlessly?
Abaft her green eyes omens mayhap as emissary divine,
The bewildered by visions apparitions beside a hidden perch,
It seems that the resonance of a dove calls from far away,
Placid content sung before the colored cathedra naiad,
Fronds not ado had not noticed the presence of a naiad,
I know not where this solemn revelry odyssey would end,
My conscious mind we have much to discuss young naiad,
I abiding with heath musing carried by the scent afore me,
Inexorable time that passes quickly as time has stride away,
Sing endless morn of light with the naiad piqued at my soul,
Steadfast heart draws me out of labyrinth and takes Naiad hand”
By Andrew Guzaldo 1/04/2019 ©
Jan 5, 2019
Jan 5, 2019 at 7:11 PM UTC
The God Made Beautiful Universe
After That He Felt Greatly Relieved,
He Himself Was So Unsure
Of He Made It, So Never Believed.
Sitting With His Ministers Said He,
“I Am Happy At My Creation,
See How Much Peace Prevails Therein.”
Satan Listened The Talk Stealthily,
He Smiled And Sent His Emissary Quietly,
Do You Know Who Was That Messenger?
It Was The First Politician On Land
To Put The World In Danger.
Apr 21, 2021
Apr 21, 2021 at 10:33 AM UTC