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"patmos" poems
I woke up and wrote your letter The Morning sun wash shining After a long rainy night I spent it trying to understand How I am supposed to float How the trees are supposed to wrap and squeeze The raven on his branch ****** harm of the moon White light through forest seeps Forget the meaning of a moment Pressing on the tile How your skin was warm And your hands alright Fire burned from Hades that day And the claws of demons reached up To scratch my screams Your parables are a common monolouge ******* in my brain Revalations and Galatians, Ezekial, Jeremiah John the APOSTLE to christ Was exiled to the island Patmos A bullet would put my brain on ice Character Speech of Naked demons Pouring Fire onto the world to ash to ash to ash The seven seals Breath the ash in and out Standing strong footed in the Millenium Where he rules again With an iron rod Despair Rebellion Screams in the blood of your young heart A spray of ****** violence against a creator of lust and love and pain and ash The prince of peace Whose blood anointed the sins of the childerens childrens children Speeding up to heaven on winged steeds Let your words pierce my armor Unto my very bones It is better than this pain I feel Your own annointed son Bleeding on an alter Incense swirling this I wish the mounains Would fall upon me
0
Dec 22, 2011
Dec 22, 2011 at 10:56 PM UTC
Eternity
it was said of me . . . across the eternal city god made me to be : the one who trysts eternity perhaps if this was, the end of the age, and we were the       last             ones . left . here . on       our             own if i was abandoned for what i believed, so dearly would you still love me? would you adore my writhing gibe ? just as alchemists alloy azyme compounding salvation to baptize remplissage of cold Versailles if they debunked everything i pride ? could you honestly pull the hatchet loose and sacrifice, for me, i am a - m - b - r - o - s - i - a on the god's platter why don't you come to? free me loosening free me for free ? (yes, it's hard, but am i worth your fear ? ) understand       for me            please                  so                     simply nothing can help me it's your choice now how will you choose? >>>>>>>>>>>> take the road which fits your palm and in it lies the cusp of dawn to where we stagnate after all liberation is our realm
0
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 10:35 AM UTC
patmos
The ideal tyranny, some have said, to me, is the Logos of John, as revealed on Patmos, or it is if we agree, if I tell you thus and so, from my crouching low pose, as the law revived by Murphy proves. Aiming at nothing and hitting it, proves nothing.
0
Apr 7, 2023
Apr 7, 2023 at 3:19 PM UTC
On Nothing
when the sun shines through on the lithograph of John in his cave on Patmos you should probably go outside the park is nice this time of year don't forget to lock up the thief cometh
0
Dec 30, 2010
Dec 30, 2010 at 9:34 AM UTC
Note to one who remains
Salt-grain-taken greetings from the land of curmudgeons, powwow in these craters of overblown canticles. Dragon-puff proofed spirits with the matchsticks of nigh-nights... till we add eyes to the lambs of Johnny from Patmos. We can disturb the peace, till it spews war from windows--gag reflexes of great purges. Catching venom samples in our plastic cups, for posterity's telltale tipples. Etching paralysis through deadlocked saints and sinners.
0
Mar 13, 2017
Mar 13, 2017 at 1:05 AM UTC
Johnny from Patmos
Men of old did prophecy, of impending doom Almighty God did move them, they did not presume - Holy men of old, had visions from the Lord But alas alas, by the world they are ignored - One such man was John, to the isle of Patmos he was sent Read what he did write, read it and repent - The last book of the Bible, records what he did see From the risen Lord, a Judgment and Decree - Fire and flame and wrath, to this world will shortly come Torment bane and death, in agony you'll succumb - Seven Seals Seven Trumpets Seven Vials of Wrath When the first Seal breaks, forsake the primrose path - You'll be killed and sent to Hell, your Damnation slumbers not A Christian Moslem Pagan, your religion matters naught - All hail the Antichrist! Take his Mark or die A guarantee you'll burn in Hell...will weep and wail and cry
0
Jan 1, 2015
Jan 1, 2015 at 4:31 AM UTC
A Guarantee
September's going to come, but is it going to go? Is this the month Doom? Of Ciaos Pain and Woe? - A few more weeks a few more days, will Prophecy come true? Death and Devastation, for both the Gentile and the Jew - On the Isle of Patmos, a vision John did see The Risen Lord did show him, what will shortly come to be - Seven Seals Seven Trumpets, Seven Vials of WRATH Will break upon your head...not the primrose path
0
Aug 12, 2015
Aug 12, 2015 at 1:32 PM UTC
September
As time goes on I wonder, will this ever end? The ciaos and commotion, and the doom that does impend - But I know the answer, this world will not go on I read it in the Bible, it was written by Saint John - He was on the isle of Patmos, and had a vision very dire About the end of days, how the earth will be on fire - God Almighty came to him, commanded him to write What he saw write down, how the world He’s going to smite - He was shown a vision, a vision of a ***** A woman dressed in scarlet, that causes all the war - A High Priest she does have, in the city Rome There he prays to Baal, beneath a golden dome
0
Dec 20, 2014
Dec 20, 2014 at 9:37 AM UTC
A Woman Dressed in Scarlet
To whom it may concern, this poem is addressed I write it to the ****** I write to the Blessed The last Book in the Bible, speaks of seven years Seven years of Judgment, seven years of Tears The seven years will start, with the breaking of a Seal The first seal upon a Scroll, God's WRATH you then will feel Seven years of Torment, seven years of Pain Seven years of Judgment, seven years of Bane Chances are not good, that you'll survive unto the end By John the Revelator, on Patmos this was penned
0
Oct 1, 2016
Oct 1, 2016 at 7:56 AM UTC
Doom Approaches
The time is coming soon, when the mushroom clouds will rise Atomic Devastation! Right before your eyes - Mega Tons of Death, will rain upon this land To a cinder you'll be burned, doesn't matter what you've planned - This is the Wrath of God, destruction from on high Remember ***** and Gomorrah, when the missiles fly - If outright you're not killed, the Fall-Out is for you You'll last a couple weeks, while ***** you will spew - Then will be the start, of the vision of Saint John Patmos was the isle, where his vision had its dawn - Did you stop and ponder? Pay one ounce of heed? Like Hell you did you stupid *** now you're going to bleed
0
Jan 5, 2015
Jan 5, 2015 at 6:22 AM UTC
Bleed
Wars hate / what peace wishes for, Paradise my light / Odyssey of Ur So that raw light / if the sun will sing ... Gerakis insult / Aetoí destiny One if it was raptor/prey and murmur Vernarth and archer/outrager Zeus So if I laugh / if I enjoy the valley Lavender and passion / why run now If I have a way / what a pasture I will tan treat me kingdoms / treat me hurry they wait for me worthy / with your gray arms with my Febo of course / if I have confusion Soon we go Patmos / arriving at Juan Soon arriving you / fast arriving I Prócoro praying / Saint John tuning We have arrived / the Sycamore shines Heaven Odyssey / Teas That Insult Which Áullos Kósmos / which Duoverso Vernarth dances alone / Vernarth laughs alone Vanity prior / suspicion that hiccups Paris hurt ... who? / Diomedes was the one who ... It wasn't Zefian / the bushy arrow ... How divine wars / serene deaths Bows and taut/curly maiden Eternal emblems/bodies on them March stars / come for my jealousy That I'll be Zefian / now I'm going Vernarth
0
May 22, 2021
May 22, 2021 at 5:15 PM UTC
Dodecasyllable / Opening Hemistich:
Un día Juan, el soñador de Patmos, el creador de las visiones hórridas, que en el sombrío muro del abismo leyó palabras que al mortal asombran, Dijo a su Águila: «Elévame en tus alas, Que quiero ver de Jehová la gloria». Y cruzó los espacios. Y los cielos al fin se abrieron a su vista absorta. Y se asomó al abismo en que golpean de la insondable Eternidad las olas, y nada columbró... Todo era noche... ¡La grandeza de Dios formaba sombra!
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318
Patmos
There's going to be a WAR, if you can't see this then your blind The last one of three planned, could be the death of all mankind - All the players are in place, just waiting for the queue From God Almighty it will come, to the many to the few - The Script was written long ago, by a Prophet on an isle The island's name was Patmos, Damnation was the style - The Prophet's name was John, he wrote what did see To Seven Churches this was sent, this will shortly come to be - This is published in a Book, for all the world to read Have this you ever pondered? Pay one **** bit of heed? - You think that this is myth, so skip along your merry way Pretend it isn't so, with your soul you're going to pay
0
Feb 5, 2016
Feb 5, 2016 at 9:11 AM UTC
With Your Soul You're Going to Pay
In the shadows of great men, I stand, Their faith, their strength, I cannot comprehend. I worry if I can meet their lofty heights, Or if I'll crumble under doubts that never end. Paul, who fought the good fight till the end, Finished the race, and kept the faith so true. But I, a weary soul, burdened by fears, Wonder if I have the strength to follow through. Peter, the rock of the Church, they say, Crucified upside down, his fate so grim. Can I bear the weight of such sacrifice, Or will I compromise when faced with sin? Andrew, who preached in far-off lands, Crucified on the cross of St. Andrew's name. Will I have the courage to spread the gospel, Or will my voice be silenced by fear and shame? James, executed by the sword's cruel blade, Forgiving his guard, seeking peace in his last breath. Could I show such grace in the face of death, Or would bitterness consume me till my death? John, beloved disciple, entrusted with care, Mary, the mother, in his faithful hands. Exiled to Patmos, revelations received, Can I endure such trials in distant lands? Stephen, the martyr, his tears fell like rain, ****** to death, yet never caused his foes to wane. Can I bear such hatred with love in my heart, Or will anger and resentment fuel my pain? The list goes on, a testament to faith's cost, Each name etched in sorrow, suffering, and loss. As I contemplate their stories, I tremble inside, Will I measure up or crumble beneath the cross? In the depths of my soul, I find despair, Overwhelmed by the weight of their legacy. I question if I have what it takes to stand, To endure the trials that may come for me. But in the midst of my worries and doubt, A glimmer of hope begins to take hold. For in their weakness, these great men found strength, Their stories inspire, a tale yet untold. So I'll gather the fragments of my broken faith, And lift my eyes to the heavens above. Though I may falter and stumble along the way, I'll seek the courage to walk in their love. For in the shadows of great men, I stand, Embracing the struggles that may come my way. With trembling steps, I'll strive to follow their lead, Trusting that God's grace will guide me each day.
0
Jun 19, 2023
Jun 19, 2023 at 6:04 AM UTC
Sorrowful Faithful Worries II
In the shadows of great men, I stand, Their faith, their strength, I cannot comprehend. I worry if I can meet their lofty heights, Or if I'll crumble under doubts that never end. Paul, who fought the good fight till the end, Finished the race, and kept the faith so true. But I, a weary soul, burdened by fears, Wonder if I have the strength to follow through. Peter, the rock of the Church, they say, Crucified upside down, his fate so grim. Can I bear the weight of such sacrifice, Or will I compromise when faced with sin? Andrew, who preached in far-off lands, Crucified on the cross of St. Andrew's name. Will I have the courage to spread the gospel, Or will my voice be silenced by fear and shame? James, executed by the sword's cruel blade, Forgiving his guard, seeking peace in his last breath. Could I show such grace in the face of death, Or would bitterness consume me till my death? John, beloved disciple, entrusted with care, Mary, the mother, in his faithful hands. Exiled to Patmos, revelations received, Can I endure such trials in distant lands? Stephen, the martyr, his tears fell like rain, ****** to death, yet never caused his foes to wane. Can I bear such hatred with love in my heart, Or will anger and resentment fuel my pain? The list goes on, a testament to faith's cost, Each name etched in sorrow, suffering, and loss. As I contemplate their stories, I tremble inside, Will I measure up or crumble beneath the cross? In the depths of my soul, I find despair, Overwhelmed by the weight of their legacy. I question if I have what it takes to stand, To endure the trials that may come for me. But in the midst of my worries and doubt, A glimmer of hope begins to take hold. For in their weakness, these great men found strength, Their stories inspire, a tale yet untold. So I'll gather the fragments of my broken faith, And lift my eyes to the heavens above. Though I may falter and stumble along the way, I'll seek the courage to walk in their love. For in the shadows of great men, I stand, Embracing the struggles that may come my way. With trembling steps, I'll strive to follow their lead, Trusting that God's grace will guide me each day.
Continue reading...
48
Beloved, Facing death is but the ultimate test of character. I don't want to die, But if I must I choose to do it with pride And loads of impudence. Beloved, Dying is bad enough But to lose my sense of humor Would be sacrilege. I haven't lost all hope yet, I haven't given up yet. Beloved, The great pyres of hell I fear not, Though my sins are great in number. I fear not the four horsemen As described to John of Patmos, I fear not the white horse, No matter how righteous. Beloved, With your hand holding mine, Among friends, among flowers, Among beauty and poetry, I intend to leave now. I must join with Charon, Son of Nyx and Erebus, By the shores of the Styx Like Aeneas did once. Beloved, From the deepest of abysses I can hear your voice, crying, Asking me to hang on To the feel that once was. I can see those black pools, Those eyes that once hunted Me in dreams Welling up with those tears made of salt. Beloved, I had only dreams of Galaxies and stars. Beloved, Now you see Not even death itself could draw us apart; You're the heart in my day And the sun in my night. Beloved, Well know I you're no fan of goodbyes, So instead, I'll say: "Until next time, we'll meet In the next life. "
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Aug 11, 2020
Aug 11, 2020 at 11:23 PM UTC
Beloved: or An Ode to the Dead