"froward" poems
A mournful air beyond the fog,
Death can meet among the poisonous rubes,
Beyond the trees and past the deformed log.
The Knight in Shining Armor comes to save the day.
Bearing healing potions from afar in pewter tubes,
But he is much too late; the Fool has already faded away.
His tears are many, for the loss of a brother,
They are heavy and murky against the dreamscape.
Now for his revenge, he seeks a strange other.
On his new, and strangely enlightened quest,
He feels transparent ghouls kissing his nape
Little does he know it is the sign of a Witches test.
Maneuvering among the empty placed grave,
He keeps his hopes on a looming tower.
He approaches his becoming of an honest knave.
He must be quick and tighten his saddle,
Because a pursuing evil is a deadly power,
And this Knight in Armor must be ready for battle.
The danger of our Knight is not known to man.
To survive, the he must unlearn his past.
This evil he faces is formulating a plan.
The towers close in as he passes their gates.
A spicy chill, creeps up the Knights spine,
And he finally grasps the terror of what awaits.
Inside his mind, he questions going back.
But dismisses the though as a man on wine.
He secretly knows this creature is on his track.
As he pushes himself onward,
He reminisces on his brother, and his life.
The only defining thought for him is froward.
He takes his final turn around the final corridor,
Quick on his feet and ready with his knife.
At first sight, he though his vision must have been poor.
A woman whose beauty surpassed any he had ever seen,
Stood with her naked eyes set firmly on him.
This was the witch who had killed all he had been.
Unable to take the life of any woman,
The soldier took a last and final look
And plunged the knife into his abdomen.
The beautiful witch had won yet another soul,
She knew why it was his life she took.
Never mind the Fool, the Knight had been her goal.
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 3:20 PM UTC
When I die alone
When you finally come home
There will be no point
(Us) We'll be long gone
As kids we thought we could
So we left each other behind
Surely someone else would enter our mind
The pain we've pinned to the wall
But our love we said it wasn't real, we let it fall
Cowardly, debased we withdrew
All the while salvation we knew, not
Disappearing from each other
Can we alone hold over?
When I die alone
When you finally come home
There will be no point
(Us) We'll be long gone
Emaciated by our hunger and our fear
We forgot how to bare, how to fight
How to fly in love not in fear
Our gears were disengaged
When we lost our mind
Our lovely thoughts were caged
Moving froward, our past is lost
How much did our insecurities cost?
When my love has lost its host
And your mind, my heart's trust
Then I will die alone
When you finally come home
There will be no point
(Us) We'll be long gone
Aug 15, 2012
Aug 15, 2012 at 9:00 PM UTC
A mournful air beyond the fog,
Death can meet among the poisonous rubes,
Beyond the trees and past the deformed log.
The Knight in Shining Armor comes to save the day.
Bearing healing potions from afar in pewter tubes,
But he is much too late; the Fool has already faded away.
His tears are many, for the loss of a brother,
They are heavy and murky against the dreamscape.
Now for his revenge, he seeks a strange other.
On his new, and strangely enlightened quest,
He feels transparent ghouls kissing his nape
Little does he know it is the sign of a Witches test.
Maneuvering among the empty placed grave,
He keeps his hopes on a looming tower.
He approaches his becoming of an honest knave.
He must be quick and tighten his saddle,
Because a pursuing evil is a deadly power,
And this Knight in Armor must be ready for battle.
The danger of our Knight is not known to man.
To survive, the he must unlearn his past.
This evil he faces is formulating a plan.
The towers close in as he passes their gates.
A spicy chill, creeps up the Knights spine,
And he finally grasps the terror of what awaits.
Inside his mind, he questions going back.
But dismisses the though as a man on wine.
He secretly knows this creature is on his track.
As he pushes himself onward,
He reminisces on his brother, and his life.
The only defining thought for him is froward.
He takes his final turn around the final corridor,
Quick on his feet and ready with his knife.
At first sight, he though his vision must have been poor.
A woman whose beauty surpassed any he had ever seen,
Stood with her naked eyes set firmly on him.
This was the witch who had killed all he had been.
Unable to take the life of any woman,
The soldier took a last and final look
And plunged the knife into his abdomen.
The beautiful witch had won yet another soul,
She knew why it was his life she took.
Never mind the Fool, the Knight had been her goal.
May 24, 2010
May 24, 2010 at 5:26 PM UTC
The brimstone quorum of
Salvationism a dying paragon :
Jettison of the Holy Cities
Amiable concordance in
Harness of attic faith salving
Creations apostasy,
Sealing Hells predestine fate,
Witnessing Sins forfeitable
Baptismal omni-shambles
Clandestine of punic Earths
Calvalcade beliefs; moving
Adamantine Heaven Godwards
And humanity froward
Evolutionarily bona-fide
Of credo.
ELEETE J MUIR
Jan 31, 2014
Jan 31, 2014 at 12:24 AM UTC
My son, if thou wilt receive
my words, and hide my
commandments with thee:
2 So that thou incline thine ear
unto wisdom, and apply thine
heart to understanding;
3 Yea, if thou criest after
knowledge, and liftest up thy
voice for understanding;
4 If thou seekest her as silver,
and searchest for her as for hid
treasures;
5 Then shalt thou understand
the fear of the Lord, and find the
knowledge of God.
6 For the Lord giveth wisdom:
out of his mouth cometh
knowledge and understanding.
7 He layeth up sound wisdom
for the righteous: he is a buckler
to them that walk uprightly.
8 He keepeth the paths of
judgment, and preserveth the way of
his saints.
9 Then shalt thou understand
righteousness, and judgment, and
equity; yea, every good path.
10 When wisdom entereth into
thine heart, and knowledge is
pleasant unto thy soul;
11 Discretion shall preserve
thee, understanding shall keep
thee:
12 To deliver thee from the way
of the evil man, from the man that
speaketh froward things;
13 Who leave the paths of
uprightness to walk in the ways of
darkness;
14 Who rejoice to do evil, and
delight in the frowardness of the
wicked;
15 Whose ways are crooked,
and they froward in their paths:
16 To deliver thee from the
strange woman, even from the
stranger which flattereth with her
words;
17 Which forsaketh the guide
of her youth, and forgetteth the
covenant of her God.
18 For her house inclineth
unto death, and her paths unto the
dead.
19 None that go onto her return
again, neither take they hold of
the paths of life.
20 That thou mayest walk in the
way of good men, and keep the
paths of the righteous.
21 For the upright shall dwell in
the land, and the perfect shall
remain in it.
22 But the wicked shall be cut
off from the earth, and the
transgressors shall be rooted out
of it.
Mar 24, 2013
Mar 24, 2013 at 3:03 PM UTC
the word people means different things to all of us
people.
some feel comfort in that word.
a sense of belonging,
the pea in the all encompassing pod
comfortable and safe in the mass of cooing voices.
i and many others
can fear the word and all its venom,
all its horrible possibilities.
the mass
the populous
the horrible, bigger than life tsunami of
faces, voices, opinions and expectations.
your possible potential
owed to everyone
by the time you have the nerve to be born.
The weight of a million plus eyes is crippling.
stepping out the door takes as much courage
as putting on the mask of everything’s alright.
laughing with the grinning face of the
people.
we are ****** froward into the fray,
the gauntlet of each other.
given rules of proper behavior
but never the rules of humanity or compassion.
drilled with the multiplication and proper verse
but left to our own childhood devices on
how to treat each other.
people
and their million different ways to maim you beyond repair
a knife for every
old scar and tough tissue
hurts left dormant years ago
that they can’t wait to find and rip open.
that fading flickering deep down hope,
held between frozen hands
blocking it from the hard wind.
well that small little hope for humanity
for people
isn't looking so good
not really keeping back the dark
like it used to.
Feb 11, 2011
Feb 11, 2011 at 1:41 PM UTC
Molding .
Shaping.
Urging.
Opening young minds to my world.
Poetry.
My tossed salad thinking expressing.
Blinking imaginings from my mind to yours.
Lose in translation.
Gain full imagination.
A seed was planted. No.six small seedlings.need-lings rertilized.
Eyes ,open mouths closed.
Ears listing to infinate possibilities. To the torch. To the pen. To the verse
To the meter.hearts afire for the word's embrace. My mind to
theirs.Peeling back onioned layers. An onioned pearl. For the taking.
Young minds sitting on worn chairs in the halls of knowlege like gaping.sponges.poetry.given lineage received. My mind to my pen.
My mind is the inkwell , the quill scratches froward then moves on.
Mar 12, 2013
Mar 12, 2013 at 3:45 PM UTC
O Thou whose angel is in the holy place
Of human souls dwells there for a space.
Which from that quarter once conveyed,
To be to deep daedal daytime displayed,
Doth be lost, vanish, and leave behind
Mere barren and void of ****** mind,
Which froward urge doth seek in vain
With random desires to furnish again!
O Thou that in our torn rib cage shrine
Dost dwell desolate, obscure, but divine!
I thought to murmur, I resolved to say,
"The beacon is here, witness the way."
The cry was thus, and thus the Word,
And thus I saw, and aye! Thus I heard.
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 9:45 PM UTC
(In)Coherent pulses,
Dreamscapes and landscapes,
Cross fading winds knocking at their front door
His delirious (un)attempts to slacken back
his mangled froward hair;
she necessituously brushed aside her hair
which made unparalleled intersections
at her forehead which seemed to him like comet tails
intermittently intertweaving within their nebulae
multifaruously forming exquisite cosmic dust
which when he had a whiff,
****** his pitless melon collie into the void.
His fingers brood at the birthmark on her arm.
You're the bridge across
his brokeness and finding himself.
Same blood, same love running
through his veins and every artery.
Breathe life into the pen names of our children.
Widening the gap between
the venerations of his & his faith.
Pulses aching coherently across the stringent,
point decimal of an infinity.
Nov 8, 2015
Nov 8, 2015 at 11:01 AM UTC
Take away my things
Throw away my possessions
Tear me down with your words
Make me say false confessions.
You may think you are right
You might believe you know me best
But you know nothing about me;
So, let me put your lies to rest:
I do lie-- but only to you
I have stolen-- my pride back from you
I am who I am and that won't change
I just hope one day you can love me.
Right now I have both feet out the door
And I am moving froward, not turning back
I will find new role models to guide me
Better people to pick up your slack.
Maybe as parents you have failed
But, that is not my problem.
I am only being me don't you see?
And when I have children I won't rob them
I won't take away their things
I won't hold them back each day
I won't let them feel unloved
I will always listen to what they have to say.
Your guiding ways have only led me wrong
You have let me see the clear way, though
It may not be the way you wish
But it is where I choose to go.
I choose to leave this place called home
I wish to leave with a smile, however
Taking lessons learned and my own identity
Knowing it may be me leaving forever.
I can cut the cord just as easy.
You think you still have control over me
But in fact you don't know one single thing
And one day you may finally see the true me.
Mar 14, 2012
Mar 14, 2012 at 3:36 PM UTC
On the edge I look out
I wonder nothing, I think nothing
all that has long been done.
Like a novel yet unfinished I hang
-disordered, and shamed-
from your disinterest.
My mind is not blank
just nonexistent.
I stand and watch the cars rush by
busy with a sense of purpose to
the people inside.
One step froward
is eternally backwards
over the ledge that I look out.
Oct 10, 2010
Oct 10, 2010 at 3:59 PM UTC
There is nothing like an ugly mouth, when using profanity. It can even tarnish your looks, when people look up and see.
For those who do not use foul words, profanity can vex their soul. You really need to be delivered ; you need to be made whole.
The Bible says, "A froward mouth will not go unpunished." If you want to clean up your words, I'm sure this can be furnished.
People on the outside will know you, and that without a doubt. They will lose all respect for you, because of your foul mouth.
By, Sandra Juanita Nailing
Apr 17, 2014
Apr 17, 2014 at 12:34 AM UTC
*We are the afternoon wilted curcurbits , leaves drawn and froward ,
pining for evening thundershowers , emboldened , tempting a watery death with blind ambition
Yet , we are also creativity trapped in religious admonition
Miracles discombobulated , manipulated
Named , taught , placed on a board with our heads facing the floor
Following a pre-plotted map with the robotic horde* ...
Jun 25, 2016
Jun 25, 2016 at 9:10 PM UTC
her throat felt like dry once she heard him say goodbye
it felt like she was swallowing glass pieces
all of those memories they made together, shattered completely
she kept them all in a little glass jar, it was sitting on her top shelf
there for her to look at and smile to remind herself of how much he loved her
then he said that he no longer wanted her to be his
the glass jar began to move froward, edging closer to the edge of the shelf
as she begged him to stay, he kept saying no
the jar moving even closer to the edge
then he said goodbye, leaving her in a shattered mess
just like the glass jar that has now hit the floor
the pieces scattered all over the place
her throat felt dry as she watched him walk out the door
just like she had swallowed those glass pieces
Jul 12, 2015
Jul 12, 2015 at 10:45 PM UTC
*Today can be our Christmas , our eve of Thanksgiving
I see a maiden with a crown of mistletoe
Bearing gifts , wearing a gown of spider silk
Barefooted impressions upon known passages
My lady sashays in a persistent daydream ,
lighting the outdoor candelabra of desire
A bonfire outstanding , a pyre of nightmarish
sacrifice she implores , a sword that strikes without
impunity , a goblet of raspberry brandy , porcelain ,
sensuous , quivering desire waiting to be quenched
I am the commanded , the longing , the bereft , froward ,
the left
Culled mouth , undeserving , culpable yet unstoppable
Seduction gorged upon , collecting on the corners of trembling lips ,
pooling at the neck and shoulders , collecting upon my chest ,
smeared o'er alabaster breast , heaving , tribulation , simultaneous
cries into night* ..
Feb 14, 2017
Feb 14, 2017 at 9:28 PM UTC