"redeems" poems
Anxious
Dull, a boy is he
names he would not plea
eyes like baby blue-
lips a crimson hue
Feelings like me and you
Reclusive
Outsiders he'd not choose
In his mansions he bore
luring himself-
with enchanting lore's
drifting away, loosing woes
A Xenos
Traveling in his hallways
unknown, ominous
a wretched life he portrays
even in his heart, he'd say-
"Loneliness, such a Cliché"
Forsaken
Befriended, unseen
though he's not a devil
-for I believe
tortured, battered on thee
delude by his mistress' skim
He Left
portals out from misery
gone himself eagerly
then comes back, with such
-A Victory
for now, a statured man is he
Knights & Kings
upon bended knees
and everything he please
from a man to a boy
-in a dream
A Castle, now he redeems
Jul 14, 2017
Jul 14, 2017 at 7:48 PM UTC
You love us when we're heroes, home on leave,
Or wounded in a mentionable place.
You worship decorations; you believe
That chivalry redeems the war's disgrace.
You make us shells. You listen with delight,
By tales of dirt and danger fondly thrilled.
You crown our distant ardours while we fight,
And mourn our laurelled memories when we're killed.
You can't believe that British troops 'retire'
When hell's last horror breaks them, and they run,
Trampling the terrible corpses--blind with blood.
O German mother dreaming by the fire,
While you are knitting socks to send your son
His face is trodden deeper in the mud.
2.6k
Its hard to believe to listen to
The sound of silence through layman's ears
For silence,an unestablished thought
Rides the young hearts only through fear.
Maturity, an understanding through beneath
Sediments like evils srata
For if you conquered,it only leads
To the sound of silence,every data.
For as we stare, me and words together,
Silence redeems through the pages
Every drop of ink forever
Can spell the words through all the ages.
The silence that lingers between
Begs me to hear it closer
Its trying to express the unwanted enclitic
The words that will fade never.
And now as i cherish this conversation of silence,
I realize that ink has a spirit
And to know the mistake i have committed
Which on my face like a bright light lit.
And to know the spectacular reason
I'm astonished myself, i must say
Ink helps us when we are not thinking
Flowing on paper without delay.
This sound of silence that i have gathered now,
Must be of great help all through my life
It will let me hear all those unsound-able things
And help me to decide when to stab a knife.
Through my youth scores, a bunch of thirty
Led me through a rugged terrain,
And now i want a plain surface with lots of pleasure
To lead a life, to be truly sane.
The sound is like a hand i want
Which helps me to walk in young years
Through the blasphemy, through humanism
It will strike away all my fears.
Does one realize that i said
The words of silence through every phase
The crumb of bread a beggar needs
The food of life heaven feeds?
They can't be realized by screaming though oceans,
They can't be realized by ending a story
For they are the curse of hearing unknown thoughts,
The sound of silence one and only.
My heart beats are frantic now,
As i have reached the harmonics of music,
Sweet and presentable they are now
Tapping your life like your feet.
They are many fellows who can't sing
So they make you suffer the sound of silence
With every teardrop longing for supper
Fighting their way through all the violence.
For those who have a great voice
It doesn't mean that they have to be proud,
For it may break any time
Like breaking a stone, like rumbling of clouds.
And i may not be an instrumentalist
And i may not be a teacher,
But i can stop the silence and let them hear music
And make them smile, not to suffer.
Nov 27, 2012
Nov 27, 2012 at 4:24 AM UTC
The understanding of the stewardship of time calls attention to the accountability of time.
The knowledge of time management promotes the accomplishment of God's purpose for man.
The understanding of the time enhances the fulfillment of life ambitions on earth.
Learn to number the days while applying the heart unto knowledge;
knowing any time wasted cannot be regained.
Redeeming the time demands the knowledge of time management,
acknowledging the fact that the time is short.
Understanding the time curbs procastination in every area of life;
knowing that procastination is the killer of destinies.
Be accountable for the time spent with the understanding we cannot turn back the hands of time.
Be conscious of the time spent with the knowledge that time is man's greatest treasure.
Beware of the time spent with the knowledge that time waits for no man.
Let us seek to understand the time while applying the heart unto knowledge.
Let us strive to redeem the time knowing the days are evil.
Let us struggle to fulfil the time while our mission on earth lasts.
Who then can understand the time,
knowing every minute counts.
Who then can redeem the time,
knowing the days are evil.
Who then can fulfil the time,
knowing we are governed by time.
He that acknowledges the time can understand the time.
He that understands the seasons can redeem the time.
He that comprehends the mystery of time can fulfil the time.
Let him that seek to understand the time,
seek the counsel of counsellors.
Let him that seek to redeem the time,
strive to understand God's purpose for man.
Let him that seek to acknowledge the time,
Struggle to heed the principles of time.
What then is the reward for understanding the time?
What then is the reward for redeeming the time?
What then is the reward for fulfilling the time?
He that understands the time will accomplish God's purpose for man.
He that redeems the time will make a difference in his world.
He that acknowledges the time will achieve life ambitions on earth.
Hope you find time out of every time,
knowing we all seek to redeem the time.
Time is a Treasure not a Leisure.
Aug 13, 2013
Aug 13, 2013 at 11:45 AM UTC
The beginning of a new day, I want to be positive. I don’t want to think about festering wounds that become overrun with infection due to a lack of self-care and bad hygiene.
I want to change my thoughts. I want to recognize them for what they are, fleeting and neutral before I trap them within the musty wharf of my psyche.
I want to believe in a god. I want to believe that something is somewhere that can redeem the involuntary nature of existence. Something that balances the horror of ****** starvation, and **** or the parents of a missing child who are later asked to identify the only remains found – a decapitated body eerily preserved by the abnormally frigid temperatures lingering long after the advent of spring.
I want to know beauty as much as I know disgust. What redeems the isolated ending of someone that no one will ever remember? What justifies the lives of those who knew nothing but defeat, who weren’t heard, or who suffered the rejection of humanity in spite of the deep desire to feel accepted? Save us from existing without ever knowing the victory of achieving an intended goal with self-will and perseverance.
What about the countless numbers of lives that have been extinguished and buried in mass graves. How many people die that will never be remembered… What meaning does life have then? Were they here to be recalled as an obscure number? Their whole life of memories – hope, fear, love, hate, despair, dread, loneliness, doubt, guilt, shame, and unique personality traits - all to be remembered as one of the many who are not remembered.
Why must I fool myself to find contentment? Not everyone is able to see the silver lining. Must I only know the defeat of a man who could not overcome the prison of thoughts in his mind?
Do not mourn me because of a lost familiarity. If that is all I am then you will forget me soon enough.
Jul 7, 2013
Jul 7, 2013 at 9:31 PM UTC
Sara L Russell, 17/5/14 00:29am
I speak, therefore I ****
Complacent in my seat of ancient learning,
I can and will
undo your fragile notions,
your vapid little dreams;
I'll pierce your ego with a word.
Your ego is absurd.
I sleep in blameless peace.
Reclining on my cloud of contemplation,
I can and do
lampoon your trite devotions,
tug on their fraying seams;
I'll take your confidence away
with everything I say.
You're weaker than I am,
Regurgitated clichés haunt your writing,
you know it's true
You wear the same emotions;
no common sense redeems
the foolish things you write
- till I slay them with spite.
May 16, 2014
May 16, 2014 at 7:38 PM UTC
Introduction
Burning pages
Blood-red sky
Rage of angels
Days gone by
The Chosen one, with eyes of searing flames
Is opening the book of Living Names....
I
The turning pages tell of lives gone by,
Furled by the one whose eyes are blinding flames;
Hot ashes flutter to the blood-red sky,
Like burning souls of undeserving names.
Where justice fails in life, death compensates:
Rare Mercy brings the angel who redeems,
While cruelty brings down avenging fates,
Even if conscience sleeps throughout our dreams.
The one with eyes of flame sees everything,
His Book of Living Names is always fair;
Yet every page frail as a fledgeling's wing -
Tread carefully if your name is not there.
There are but two volumes: one leads to light,
The other leads to Hell, without respite.
II
He sat in shadows, working through the night;
A scribe writing in words of ****** red,
While brass lanterns imparted sickly light,
As nightmare voices raged inside his head.
And all the names of those forever doomed,
Of future deaths and those of ancient past,
Were on the page, committed and entombed
In holy blood, scarlet and colour-fast.
All those whom God shall cast into the flames,
Unworthy of Heaven's forgiving grace
Are ever here, in this Book of Dead Names -
Named, numbered souls, each one bereft of face.
Thus, all enjoying notoriety
Shall be vanquished in anonymity.
III
Place copper coins over these weary eyes,
Gather my gold around me in the tomb,
Pray overlook transgression, all my lies,
Cradle me unto death, as from the womb.
Bury my silver at my lifeless feet,
Burn sandalwood, utter my name in prayer,
Drench me with nard and hyssop, bittersweet,
Remember me with lilies in my hair.
Pray write me in the Book of Living Names,
God turn thy face from my iniquity;
Spare me the flail, the pit of raging flames,
But let the quiet waters carry me.
Float me upon the Styx when I am gone;
Erase me from the Necronomicon.
NOTES:
This was inspired by some of the startling imagery in The Book of Revelation from the Bible.
Sep 2, 2009
Sep 2, 2009 at 11:47 AM UTC
father said
you should
only dream
with open eyes
to see clearly
the rays of lies
dreams are only
made for sleep
not for day
nor light to seek
keep your dreams
beside your bed
and a candle lit
inside your head
keep it there
and keep it where
vision withers
for no light
redeems or
day delivers
your dreams
once your dead
May 16, 2023
May 16, 2023 at 11:32 PM UTC
I cannot fit in these circles they build me
I cannot be bullied outside my reality
I cannot be dragged in their dark tunnels
I cannot be drugged inside their quarries
FOR
When all fades away the 'self' has to be whole
When all shades the 'self' within has to reconnect
The 'self' has it's own shell that crowns it's life
The 'self' is an open field shielded from the storm
My 'self' will not indulge in the mediocre cranes
My 'self' will not be spotlighted for egoistical tunes
My 'self' redeems as it condenses in the mist of the dew
My 'self' is my ultimate repentant, a repellant from the norm
Jul 13, 2016
Jul 13, 2016 at 7:43 AM UTC
Let me feel your nakedness,my Lady...
Let me undress you with one single look.
The world out there promises you nothing but bitterness of life.
Behold.....
In my arms i'm holding a dagger of certainty and a rose as red as your sweet blood.
Your lips remind me of those rosebuds that bloomed eternally
Your breasts,sacred and pure,i touch with such a lonely desire.
Your fear arouses my manhood charm
This night has no end.
Let us dance with the rhythm of my passion.
The smoothness of your skin i feel with my lips like a heavenly tune.
Your shivering body,my heart beating...
My hands around your waist...
Tighter,closer....bring and bind yourself to me.
My breath runs around your neck,with every kiss you walk closer to the path i'm giving you...
How smooth.... How passionate...
The sweetness of your tongue ,swaggering on my manhood like a golden glass of wine.
This night has no end,my love
Let me see....let me feel your blood drip down my body...
Let me bathe in your exposed nakedness.
I will kiss the wounds i cut on your heart...
Kiss the pain away as this feeling i bear i can't help it
Your death would be so beautiful as the night grows darker...
Your stream of unconsciousness redeems my lonely soul...
Here on this path,i will lay your sweet dead body....beneath the stars you can not see
Unto heaven and earth....
Sep 4, 2010
Sep 4, 2010 at 9:17 PM UTC
My crimson carnation
Bleeding red beauty
Into the rain
Falling from heaven
Ready to make earth it's home
Here in the rain
Flowers wilting away
Love so deep that death was but
A small patch of brown
In a field teeming with lilies
The alabaster field will shout out your name
Like the death and rebirth of a single scarlet tulip,
So was your sacrifice
Never for a moment fearful
That this apoptosis would never return it's beauty
Grace
Never ceasing grace
Can't be twisted and torn
By wind or storms
It will hold when weak are we
Glory to he who redeems
Feb 19, 2014
Feb 19, 2014 at 1:32 AM UTC
As the crow flies over yonder
Rusted strings beckoning their call
The wind in the weeping willow sings
Redeems those ugly sins longer
Leadbelly played the midnight special
With Roberta dead and gone
Pieces in the trees, except
For her soul which belonged to another
Devils got my woman tonight
Heads twisting and turning in my sleep
Rising flames going south of heaven
Fear bearing fruits of the womb
Boy, he could play
He could make the wood cry
He could sing and howl like that
With scripture and gospels fly
Prodigal of the rising sun
Voices carrying his wings of charm
Playing tunes whispered by fiends
That mistook his woman for some strings
Willie Brown knows the crossroads
Ages ago in the summer day haze
Watching friends like Robert trade their
Fingertips for sliding bottle licks
Hellhounds got my woman
Dealing cards from under her dress
My body whipped and beaten
With worms squirm in ****** mess
There goes the one, the man in black
Tipping his hat to me
The Morning Star approaching, asking
“Do you want to learn from me?”
The crooked tree like the arm of death
The clouds rising over the red sky
Yellow eyes lingering and staring
Weighing my soul for the perfect price
Mud covered my feet
But it hasn’t been raining
Nightmares crawling from my nails
With crows sounding like my momma
Devil strumming with my woman
Devil grinning, with a mouth like a cellar furnace
Hell wanting a piece of me
Sliding bottle licks and singing blues
Under the crossroad tree
A ghostly soul who can play
For the traveling eternity.
Aug 6, 2013
Aug 6, 2013 at 9:36 PM UTC
Loving sweetly,
deeply
heart blossoms
softens
graciously
receiving
blessings,caresses
Ultimate Healing;
redeems soul
shadow small
flies free
sky breeze.
Never again
doubt,fear,
hidden
forbidden tear,
pain, emotion
make for long
trail magic
endless motion.
Loving...weaves
smooth tides,
smiles
dewdrop of Essence
morning gloriously
shines;
Loving...paints
rainbow heart
skies abide
trust entrust
Celestial
Dance
before us
Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 7:52 AM UTC
My soul yearns for the Great I am.
Provider of all of my needs everyday.
For you give and you take away.
The soothing Savior to my Spirit and Soul.
Who am I but a man that been blessed.
By you O Lord an ordinary mortal.
With a Super Natural Extraordinary God.
Who saves and redeems all of his people.
Jul 22, 2014
Jul 22, 2014 at 11:32 AM UTC
He's a cosmopolitan queen,
He's content on his knees,
He feeds from the screams,
and the souls he redeems.
He's got a complex mind,
He appreciates the grind,
He always takes his time,
A master of his crimes.
He's simple but complex,
He's an incredible wreck,
He whispers on your neck,
And answers to your beck.
He's a cosmopolitan queen,
He'll bring you to your knees,
He'll infiltrate with ease,
and he'll take what he needs.
Oct 8, 2016
Oct 8, 2016 at 3:26 PM UTC
BRUSH
Brush free the carpet
of mud and fluff.
Let’s brush off the hurtful comment too,
that snide remark, those graceless words.
We’re cleaning yet collecting,
straightening up, taking out the dirt.
Repositioning dust. Always temporary,
never the same, brush, brush,
to and fro, again – again - again.
SCOOP
The ice cream tub has one
to make the portion fair
for that ever-observant,
pernickety child.
When walking the dog,
we scoop the ****
carrying the plastic bag
to the waiting wanting bin.
Yet the all-important wooden
scoop is made from a block
of a 2 by 3, with chisel, gouge
and a steady hand.
This farmer’s friend, this open spoon,
lives in darkness and under the lid
of the deep grain bin,
to feed white chickens.
POKE
Getting it out,
placing it right –
but much is trial & error.
If it won’t go in,
give it a poke . . .
and it might.
Nowadays it’s a software app
to help you cheat at on-line games
and , God forbid, an important tool
in the tattooist’s bag – the hand poke,
liner and shader with standard
8 – 32 thumb screws and
completely autoclave able.
CUT
Hogwimpering drunk
or ****** out of mind.
Seventies slang for
individual incapacitation.
A cut can hurt,
display the inner
through incision
in the outer.
Reveals, opens up,
allows a division from
one to another.
This cut of meat on the slab?
For you, madam?
I can cut it up
nice and small
for the baby to chew.
RAKE
Lying there in the long summer grass,
it needs standing up, its teeth cleaned.
When autumn comes it redeems itself,
clearing the path, letting the lawn breath.
In the hand of sculptor, ceramicist, modeller
it fashions variously, cuts, pulls away, gouges,
scrapes, a multi-purpose stick with two ends:
of wrapped wire, of ribboned steel.
LOOK
To make sure it’s right:
correct and straight,
balanced, in proportion.
The magnifier helps,
the camera too,
getting the angle,
the position , the light
gauged . . . with a little looking.
You have to look,
see?
HIT
Whatever needs placing firmly,
needs fixing permanently,
can do with a hit (or two).
A nail with a hammer,
a door with a foot,
it could be a winner,
and right on target,
strike out the opposition,
disable the enemy.
A killer noun.
I prefer the verb.
Jan 24, 2016
Jan 24, 2016 at 5:11 AM UTC
hurling sherpa into the Sun on a rainy day can open your mind
and your children will wander off from your womb... into the next room.
it's the little things that **** you. and the invisible that redeems.
peeling papayas in a prison is still fruit of the doomed.
if you wish to be free -
i suggest you leave
The Pit.
watch out for Mangoes.
May 2, 2013
May 2, 2013 at 12:45 AM UTC
Let's get
A bird's eye view
We'll never forget
Be amongst the few
To climb to the top
Never rest, never stop
Hold my hand
I'll keep you
Out of the quicksand,
Just as I won't let you plummet
From this summit
Together we'll scale
Any mountain,
In our life; our Everest
The greatest test
No matter if we fail
We can take it again
And again, anew
Break through the mist
And reach for the sky
Into the air ****** a fist
Catch our dreams
Don't let them fly
Away from us,
As we thrive like a cactus
And our perseverance redeems...
© okpoet
Jan 19, 2013
Jan 19, 2013 at 2:03 AM UTC
I'm not farther from death than you are,
Tender leaf, slender branch.
We all live very close to it.
But my heart has been salvaged.
It's nearly off the map.
The heart doesn't reason this way
In every man. It doesn't take wings
From its subterranean shell like this.
You are the stars of night,
You are the tree, a ballerina
Of grace. I'm the root.
Now you are exhausted.
You say your load was too heavy.
I forgave you, but you failed
To listen to me, drifting into your life
Of earnest foliage and birds' nests.
What were you saying to me,
To the one who always redeems
Fear has left you just skin and bones
Look: you are the one being tested
And tried. I am the root.
You close your windows feeling
Diminished, belittled.
Your tiny world is fast disappearing
Into my immense space.
I don't know you well,
But I wasn't so crowded
Just a little bit earlier.
You're a bullet in the barrel,
An irrelevant splash.
I am the root.
The dead summoned their courage
And gathered to find arbitrarily, in one another
Love never seen before,
All-encompassing love without boundaries.
Maybe something will occur in the end
Your farewell imagined its own reality.
Your mouth said:
I am taking wings,
I'm contemplating.
I am a long and narrow road,
And will be closed down sooner or later.
I am the most disloyal traitor
To face your mask. Look now:
Your specter is lost inside me,
As if it had disappeared into a mirror.
You did this. You offered
thousands of lies to me
Instead of the truth. Death smiled
as a way to humiliate. I know
The earth. I am the root.
Koray Feyiz
(Translated from Turkish by Dr.Nesrin Eruysal & Prof.Dr. Kenneth Rosen)
Oct 18, 2016
Oct 18, 2016 at 6:13 PM UTC
Lighthouse shine a light for me
in these dark times it is hard to see
will you shine a light so I might be
(some day)
found
Meaning got lost in the rubble
trust has only brought me trouble
People hiding inside their bubble
(seems like we are all)
bound
Fires would you burn
I got lost after taking the last turn
what is there to find, what is to learn
(we feel like being, being)
drowned
Please, show me a way
it is hard to go, so much harder to stay
I walk, I halt, I run, I stray
(everything's loud but I make no)
sound
Lighthouse, my castle of warmth
how I miss your steady arms
and your happy, glowing charms
(how is seeing you in the distance so)
profound
Like ancient kings and queens
of a wisdom that redeems
though never knowing what it all really means
(in uncertainty, lonely, in melancholy once again)
crowned
Oct 2, 2018
Oct 2, 2018 at 5:51 AM UTC
Let my grave be unnamed.
Let it be unrecognisable too.
Let my haters remember how I wronged them.
Let the people who love me remember me without a plea.
Let my grave be unmarked,
Let me be just a passing thought.
Let my grave be unmarked,
So all those who pass mark it without a farce.
Let their feelings towards me ,
Of contempt or of respect, be a prospect.
Let there be no doubt when you flicker your gaze at me ,
When I sleep for eternity,
Or till my souls redeems me.
Let my grave be unnamed,
Let my people name me.
A liar , a deceiver , unloving child
A lover , a foe , a friend with no friends.
Let my grave be unnamed ,
Let my soul be unclean.
For all the thoughts that cross your mind,
Let those be with what I am remembered by,
Never the good , not the bad but the ugly truth with which I passed .
Let my grave be untouched,
Without grief , as their is no one else to cast your burden upon.
Let me go all alone,
As no one stood by me when I brimmed with life.
With all my love to share
Your hatred holding onto my love
Let my grave be unnamed .
Let my peace be on loan
Let my soul be unmarked
Let my sorrow never follow through
Let me be without a tomorrow.
Nov 22, 2021
Nov 22, 2021 at 9:54 AM UTC
Who says being a Senior Citizen makes us old?
Put on the brakes with a moment of hold
We have worked all our life
We should be retired and relax in stride
We earned our Social Security which is our expenses that Social Security provides
Senior Citizens do have rights
We are designated and don’t have to act polite
It is god that redeems our light
Washington, DC wants to take away in thinking we don’t need
Social Security and Pensions is how we proceed
We are not asking the House of Representative to do a good deed
We do have Medicare power
It is our provider regardless of the hour
All Washington, DC wants to do is be sour
Washington, DC has no plan of its own
The Senior Citizens just want to be left alone
The Multitude of Seniors voices that want to wake up the Capitol
It’s a battle worth communicating about
“Seniors in strength, and voice having an Old Age High”
We are the why and we are in Washington, DC’s face in the “I”
Don’t touch what you don’t understand
This is the Senior Citizen demand
Our fight has been going on throughout the land
So President Trump recognize us Senior Citizens
You are a Senior Citizen yourself
We will not allow you taking away
It is not ok
No you cannot have your own way
We Senior Citizens have the experience and endurance
Our voices conclude being our assurance.
Nov 8, 2017
Nov 8, 2017 at 3:43 PM UTC