"petitioning" poems
Hoping, dreaming,
Wishing, praying,
Fasting, petitioning,
Crying, weeping.
A hundred days,
Bygone.
Hoping we could once more see your face,
As impossible as it sounds,
Dreaming, that someone, somewhere, some place,
Finally finds you, and that you're at last home bound.
A hundred days,
Of excruciating pain.
Wishing against the logic of the world,
That you're still fine, and you'll fall into my arms once again,
Praying to God, gods, goddesses, deities of the world,
That even if you're not lost forever, you're still okay, not in pain.
A hundred days,
Of sleeplessness.
Fasting, maybe not because we believe it'll help,
But food does not replenish anymore,
Petitioning to the saints above,
To ask the angels to hold you, forevermore.
A hundred days,
Of yearning.
Crying for that solace only closure brings,
That somehow its not a conspiracy and that the truth is revealed.
Weeping for every single person, every heartbroken family,
Who's dreams and aspirations lay now buried, concealed.
A hundred days,
Of timeless sadness.
They say time heals,
The say it will get better,
But nothing can better what we feel,
Not even time.
A hundred days,
Without conclusion.
Jun 16, 2014
Jun 16, 2014 at 8:18 AM UTC
Useless Money
I often get petitioning letters so many people trying
to find a place to live and only receive a bitter refusal
and see their children die of thirst and hunger.
I wish to help them, but no money in the world is
enough to stop this flood of humanity seeking a haven
flotsam, the wreck of the unfortunate and we can do
nothing but look another way.
Overwhelmed by the misery I can do little about, but
the woman from Myanmar who won a medal for her
tenacity, choose not to speak. The friendly Buddhists
are killing Muslims in their midst, they have become
refugees; the woman from Myanmar is voiceless.
She, the upper-class daughter of a Burmese general
Who aristocratic behaviour impressed us deeply,
But I ask why she is staying silent now.
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 5:15 AM UTC
Church bells ring of voices silenced
a darkened Moon is hanging low
crickets stop to hear the empty
as loving waters overflow
As angels call in voices singing
notify my heart goodbye
as deafened ears are opened up
no more tears are left to cry
Dying leaves, a crimson carpet
indigo ink at levied banks
waters flood my aching heartbeat
raising hands to you in thanks
Cloaking eyes, I'm in the shadows
petitioning you another dance
whispering the coming reaper
if only I could have a chance
Softly come draped in darkness
ebony casts a ghostly glow
lovely bones in alabaster
putting on a secret show
Taking off the heavy waiting
holding down my paper heart
a poets voice cannot be silenced
by ticking hands you pushed apart
Silver tears they fall in quiet
in rivers taken right or wrong
releasing me & painful weighting
and sing me as I come along
Violins they speak so mellow
calling me as I go home
morning comes a glowing ember
left for you an Earthly loam
As the leaves outside are falling
and thickened air bids me farewell
whispering of my departure
& secrets I may never tell
although in this...
you mustn't dwell
Waving you off
in slow motion
blinking lashes bid adieu
darkened cloakroom,
veiling... hiding
memories of loving you
the only love
I really wanted
the one I never... really knew.
Cherie Nolan © 2016
Sep 18, 2016
Sep 18, 2016 at 12:36 PM UTC
I woke up with a deep longing
to nourish the seed of my dreams.
A near life experience.
A vision of love
just beyond the horizon.
I reached for the stars
and burned in the sun.
I drank from the ether.
Showered in darkness.
The tide of emptiness receded,
washing clean the shores of my soul.
I harvested passion
and prayed with the meek.
I sang for you.
Cried for you.
Gifted my heart
in a box made of spirit.
I sacrificed beauty
to send you my kiss.
I cried to the heavens in silence.
I wailed to know you.
Begging forgiveness,
petitioning God.
"Do not let the sands of time
slip through my fingers."
"Do not let this yearning
pass to the fray".
My heart now beats into
a void of eternity.
My silence completes me.
We are now one.
Jul 31, 2018
Jul 31, 2018 at 2:55 PM UTC
I have no protest signs or support groups.
No one is petitioning for me in Congress,
Or campaigning for my equality in the hallways of my high school.
No one throws bible verses at me,
Or pushes me into lockers.
For the most part, no slurs are slung at me
No repent demanded.
But I face the same as every minority.
I am the Quiet Repressed
Lack of notariety only adds to my persecution,
I have no sisters in suffering to hold me up.
The insults called me
Are called by me.
Whispered in my mind when the fear flickers in someone’s eyes.
Freak. Unnatural. Too much.
I cannot hold a protest sign.
I cannot demand my rights from the people I’ve terrorized.
I cannot ask to be respected.
Do not think of me.
I do not live in you.
Deny my existence, suppress my need for understanding.
I am the silent presence, smothering all I touch.
And so, chaotic, I can touch nothing.
Nothing.
(Cassandra- “she who is ignored”)
Dec 29, 2012
Dec 29, 2012 at 7:34 PM UTC
___’Ego sum hic.’___
_Calling to the dawn,
Baying at the moon,
Petitioning the horizon,
Summoning the faithful;
The yearning indefinite,
In pursuit of an enduring affirmative;
An echo searching for its source
In the boundless beyond._
___’Ibi tu es, tu es, tu es, tu es...‘___
Oct 4, 2020
Oct 4, 2020 at 1:28 AM UTC
Days go by petitioning
Laptop becomes recognition
Silence brings life in focus
Dreams stranded for discovery
Time moves in to look forward
The soul reflects hunger pains
Moments see a bigger picture
What must be done to display
Nov 19, 2009
Nov 19, 2009 at 7:15 PM UTC
My skin creeps toward self destruction
my heart gnaws as it pounds every beat
my soul is petitioning for reconstruction
whats lingering that isn't dead is incomplete
You bonded me to an eternity i don't deserve
a prospect to ethereal for my sinister kind
sweet, satisfying sin wrenches my every nerve
rescue yourself from woe; leave my vulnerable essence behind
I longed for a dance with you at my redemption
to embody me in your embrace of tranquility
but your strain on me has softened
your perpetual tenderness requests my stability
God, if you're listening i'm guilty i'm the one who forswore
please allow me to grieve abandoned with my humility
Although i vow you'll habitually be the one i ask for
don't feed into my nightmares with your mercy
I want to dream alone
Your flawlessness is a persistent reminder that i'm unworthy
I'd rather sink in immorality than throttle your throne
When it's my day to die
bury me in a glass case
so you see the part of me that devastated you and I
Please forgive me for I have sinned
resign from me you're chasing the wind
Oct 29, 2014
Oct 29, 2014 at 11:56 PM UTC
I have died a million deaths
Became a haven of more graves than I dared to live
Became a widow of my own soul
Covered myself with the cloak of death mourning the glory of loss upon us
Dressed myself in more insults with a dash of curses than your devotion
As I dangled from the roof of your mercy petitioning for your worthy heart
Became an ambassador of your threats to disappear than your affection
But again and again I return to you
In hope that one day
you might believe that I am not what you are used to
Dec 7, 2015
Dec 7, 2015 at 5:37 AM UTC
ground swell
and furniture at odds
storage collage
the breathing flutter
shutter-ring
lists
head blood flush
rush until taunt
and breathing...
an ail
air
off of still
warmth
pudding the chamber
tow my breathing
as ought
a gentle petitioning
takes effect
my senses are hooked back up
and i observe i am sat awkward
; floor and wall
untightening into feeling
Jun 11, 2020
Jun 11, 2020 at 6:27 PM UTC
Maybe its time to stop petitioning the sky for answers, maybe its time to stop asking god for miracles and stop blaming the devil for our own wicked deeds. Maybe its time we pull the love freely flowing in the air around us into our lungs and share it with one another. Breath kindness and compassion to those in need, to feed the hungery, to protect the children living without homes, to share all that we have no matter how little it may be. Maybe its time to stop imagining a better world and start building a better world. Maybe its time we value the blood coursing through the hearts of our daughters and sons more than the number of zeros on our paychecks. Maybe its time to give our time and attention to the things that need our time and attention. Maybe its time for us to craft miracles through hands holding the hammer and nails and not praying to the hands with nails through them. Maybe its time to have faith in ourselves. Maybe its time to stop placing the label of sin on our children before they even take their first breath. Maybe its time to learn how to love ourselves without shame. Maybe its time to see the sky as blue or cloudy or grey or black and not the color of our salvation. Maybe its time we save ourselves. Maybe its time to spread love instead of teaching hate. Maybe its time to put the old dogs of war down and stop willingly sacrificing our children to the machine of greed and the gears of death. Maybe its time to stop pretending peace keepers are the same thing as peace makers. Maybe its time to realize that bombs and bullets and fear are not useful ways of achieving word harmony. Maybe its time to stop praying for better and to start doing better. Maybe we can start today because maybe tomorrow will be to late...
Jun 20, 2016
Jun 20, 2016 at 7:48 PM UTC
I'm so antivax maskless, I'm petitioning the courts to remove my polio and smallpox, diphtheria and whooping cough, and measles Vax from my *** immediately.
I want to be free of serums, free
to enjoy paralysis, coughs and fevers like God made me.
Shit my glasses are fogged up.
Wait a minute.
Freedom is an ignominious thing
Aug 28, 2021
Aug 28, 2021 at 12:48 AM UTC
Evil isn't hiding under your beds or in your closets, it's not lurking around the corner or down some dark alley. It's not in the blade or the handle of a knife, it's not in the bullet or the gun or the bomb or the boom. Evil only lives and breeds in the heart of men and it is kept alive and well generation after generation, handed down to our sons and daughters as they are taught greed and fear and lust and hate.
So next time bullets go flying across the school yard or bombs fall from the sky and find hospitals instead of their "targets" or a child is beaten or murdered or ***** by its father or preacher or mother or sister or teacher or brother or friend... and you wonder what kind of monster, what evil would allow?
Look in the mirror, stare into the darkness in the pupils of your reflection and listen to the soundless echo of the blackness you find there. Do not blink, do not turn away, let your eyes and mind adjust to the horror staring back at you... The evil infesting and rotting away at and in your own heart. It's been living and thriving in the silent bubble you've built around your days and nights. All the years you quitely ignored your hearts cries for help as evil made itself at home.
Every time evil made the front page news, instead of fighting back, you decided to just turn the volume down. Knowing it was there and knowing it was wrong... Were you hoping it would go away while feeding it your doubts and fears and hate? Did you think that you could make it fat and satisfied and it would then find somewhere new to roam?
Don't look for the devil to blame or the absence of prayer in the classroom or the sky you claim to be empty of god... Stop petitioning deities to save you from the evils of the world when those evils are your own monsters walking and dancing and playing in the blood of your own heart.
Jan 11, 2016
Jan 11, 2016 at 12:31 PM UTC