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Jolan Lade Jun 2018
Trow a rock in the pudlle, create a tsunami
Call out a name, wake an army

Let a ladybug talk them down
Let a duck show them where love can be found
I care about stuff I dont know what is
September Roses Feb 2018
The flames they rise up inside of me
an inferno of words, all screaming
to be the first to break my outer shell
to be the first to break me
to make me let one slip,
to form a crack, running down my face
inviting people to pull it open.
and as curiosity consumes most,
that one inferno risen word
will be the end of me
September Roses Aug 2018
The satin gown of hope a myth
   The heroes fallen                                      
                                    to the abyss

The bloom of death, no longer risen
Our souls trapped in endless prison

        Existence the master of all
        masked curses
              A song of tragedy with endless

   So if dying breath comes anyway
                  What's it matter
                 How soon the day

All suns set
Some plan no dawn
They care not for those who mourn

           I wish myself
      The blood to stop
     To soon not hold
   A single drop

So I promise you my heart for free
       If you swear
   You'll rip it out of me
why doesn't hello poetry like metaphorical Shakespearean poetry? its so pretty?
King Panda Jun 2017
I could not accept you—star
incarnate, carved and swollen
in the trunk of a fustic—

*****-yellowed and preened—risen
and alive I strap my
saddle to your back. My heels
dig to the dark side of

a price yet to be paid—an eye
of a coursing, being scrubbed
into the spots of grain—heat
eaten by earth. Star set.
Star rise.
Star be

livid and leaven

whispers the cowboy
sitting in a lawn chair on the
front porch—his hat falling
off from crowning, bald-headed

tilt. space and all its wonders.
Cole Maxwell Mar 31
Unlike Drake, we didn't start at the bottom,
We met about midway.
Two people amidst a common problem.
Darkness cloaks this part, at most I'll start to
Coast to the cause of the issues that bother
Cole the most, his heart revokes the thought
Of coming close to ignoring it farther.
I understand like a ghost, I see right through your father,
Voices don't come close to being as
Reprimanding as thoughts do.
They long for your heart to retain as much hatred as they can barter,
Until you can't stand the way that you breath or look at a person the same as you're recalling.
Much to the dismay of Blood,
I had to leave, I was falling,
Alcohol was more important than you all
And for that I'm sorry.
I tried to get away and break my chains
But veins yearn for that which takes the pain
Away and for that I only grew to know more pain.
One thing led to another and still the story's the same,
I've thrown away 5 years of my life to help me dig my own grave.
Amazingly I've made it through to write this story
And say that I've put childish things aside,
And live a better life today.
I support my son and make a living,
Just as Blood may.
As humans we're designed to seek that which
May better our emotional state,
On each individual level.
We chase that which can
Levitate our own knowledge in case there are
Discrepancies at bay.
As people, don't you want to know the full story,
I know your reputation for curiosity precedes you.
If not, why do I not deserve a chance at a sorry?
What means necessary must I take just to have a conversation?
It's quite hypocritical in fact,
But I digress in that partly.
Does trepidation rule over you,
Til you're blind to damnation?
Forevermore, you have risen,
Yet I remain uncomplacent.
Alyssa Underwood Jun 2016
The moon and stars they wept
The morning sun was dead
The Savior of the world was fallen
His body on the cross
His blood poured out for us
The weight of every curse upon Him

One final breath He gave
As heaven looked away
The Son of God was laid in darkness
A battle in the grave
The war on death was waged
The power of hell forever broken

The ground began to shake
The stone was rolled away
His perfect love could not be overcome
Now death where is your sting?
Our resurrected King
Has rendered you defeated

Forever He is glorified
Forever He is lifted high
Forever He is risen
He is alive, He is alive!

The ground began to shake
The stone was rolled away
His perfect love could not be overcome
Now death where is your sting?
Our resurrected King
Has rendered you defeated

Forever He is glorified
Forever He is lifted high
Forever He is risen
He is alive, He is alive!

We sing hallelujah
We sing hallelujah
We sing hallelujah
The Lamb has overcome

We sing hallelujah
We sing hallelujah
We sing hallelujah
The Lamb has overcome

Forever He is glorified
Forever He is lifted high
Forever He is risen
He is alive, He is alive!

You have overcome
You have overcome
You have overcome
You have overcome

                   ~ Kari Jobe
Penmann Jun 7
My brand new life and social game
forfeited in godawful shame
forgotten by default foreshadowed and defeated.
arise again.

Move mountains,
Move seas,
Spread peace,
Remain a friend.

Risen again i will fall
I will never stand tall
But i can rise up again.
I sat along this opened window,
wishing to escape your empty home.
Yet, you will never archive my peace,
You're clogging up my bones.
Sadly in your breath stung darkness,
I knew this house was my prison,
when this home stayed dark as night,
after the sun had risen.
You ignored my pleas for leaving,
and left a window open.
I'll escape as I've pled before,
if only I could focus.
Yet you knew what I could do,
as you stared into my past.
You closed the window with a smirk,
and said you felt a draft-
Funny back story, I made this a couple months back after watching a cartoon.
Two dogs are competing to get someone to go to their gym.
One places their hands on the open window sill,
and the other calmly reaches over saying "I think I feel a draft,"
slamming the window on his fingers.
I don't know, I'm weird. It made me think, and I made this. :)
All feedback is welcome and appreciated
Manda Clement Jul 2014
We did not come here on the orders of others
We came freely, our own choice, blown by the soft winds
scattered o'er many a mile
Landed upon Flanders Fields and rested a while

Then death came, disturbed the earth
Destruction hit the ground in which we slept so quietly
Awoke us from our slumber sweet
To witness tragedies and defeat

Now we are risen
and in our place beneath lie men and boys of courage, strong and true
Who fought valiantly but now lay slain
Our gentle roots entwine around their bodies that remain

Each dawn we wake for them and face the summer sun
At night our gaze doth meet moon
We stand tall and proud and dip our heads
And honour them that lie beneath with our petals red
Another WW1 inspired poem. Poppy seeds can lay dormant for many years before flowering. This is what happened on the battlefields of ww1. The earth was disturbed with all the shelling and death and destruction and released the seeds that had been laying dormant. How beautiful yet so sad.
David Bremner Feb 21
Travelled light of time.
Arcturus risen
over the gentle, waveless ocean.
Its light moving with steady purpose
since the time of her birth.
To shine
on her fresh-kissed lips.
Nat Lipstadt Mar 2017
oh, these messages, you send,
invitations to a gala, a black tie affair,
but only if willingly pay the exorbitant fare,
your money's no good, you must dare,
find and write the poem hid within

how cold are the carpenter's hands,
the weather, but an added obstacle,
this heat, makes dying different difficult,
the wood bearing cross requires additional nails
and flesh, for the extra load he's bearing,
when it snows blood in Jerusalem

the whole world can transition
when one man dies and another is risen,
where oh where lies then, the juxtaposition?

there is none, for man is man,
his divine spark, embedded,
to his maker's mark, wedded,
neither snow or sun,
can ever, either, extinguish*

any message you send can and will be turned into a poem
"how cold are the carpenter's hands"... patty m

patty m  Divine intervention
extensions of grace
kiss the doubt from the
blind man's face.

Yet all are blind and deaf
so few left who truly believe
when tricksters smile and
cunningly deceive.
Where is the lamb
who died for man
how cold are the carpenter's hands.
Jerusalem where all roads lead
in winter white your sorrows bleed.
Lie still awhile and mull the words
all creatures big and small wo;; be spared
if on they believe, repent, circumvent the globe
frontal lobe what's in this treasure trove? myrrh and frankincense. stabled now in a manger
of hay, Earth Christmas Day.
Vicki Kralapp Aug 2012
The scarceness of truth and beauty of this life
has ****** me dry of breath
Its ugliness has risen to try our hearts,
filling us with a blackness too awful to utter.

Love and goodness have been banned along with God,
blown away like chaff in the wind.
How many cheeks to turn?
How many cheeks to turn?

Into my soul their blackness creeps
giving voice to the cry within.  
Pack wolves wait for signs of weakness as scarlet billows
cloud the waters of small town America.

Have we forgotten kindness and humanity?  
They’ve been flushed down the toilet of
public education.
All poems are copy written and soul property of Vicki Kralapp.
Steve Page Apr 2017
"Didn't He tell you
Wasn't it clear
Did you not realise
Did you not hear?
He is now risen
He is not here
He's gone on ahead
Please hold back your tears.
We won't need your spices
Don't look so amazed
Go tell everybody
His body's been raised."
So shocked and bewildered
They left the cold tomb
And ran to the others
Who hid in a room,
"Jesus has risen
He's body's not there
Let's go now and meet him
In Galilee where
He'll explain it all to us
Make clear what He said
Please don't look so worried
No need to be scared.
Jesus has risen
I tell you it's true
Let's go now and meet Him
Let's start life renewed."
Easter is bigger than bunnies. See gospel of Mark Chapter 16
Floating, my lens is set to soft-focus. Just a sense, an outline.
Held so close. But from the grounders, safely, I am out of reach.
To finally be able to feel secure is sublime.

My freedom, they shall no longer impeach .
Intentions pure .
Settled, I am finally at peace. Lightness I now know.
I have risen and found my cure
(C) 2015
poetryaccident Sep 2018
Dawn will soon be embraced
for treasures beyond the curve
of the earth now brought to hand
wanton actions then expressed
the mold is broken and then reformed
sensuous defined by each one

far-flung stars gazed in sleep
Scorpio waiting for a chance
when emotions churn within
private dreams foretold the way
those secret urges beyond the veil
brought to waking in the light

morning risen to exclaim
what the night hid away
the slumbering to be roused
or should arousal be the term
for dispassion put aside
in response to nature’s urge

vocal ***** and stirring hens
or reversed and transposed
now awoken from their sleep
ask for strokes to greet the day
more than enough to awake
achieve release not found in sleep.

© 2018. Sean Green. All Rights Reserved. 20180930.
The poem “Morning Risen” was inspired by another poet’s work.  They wrote a poem about the interplay before foreplay.  This led me to write about waking up in the company of another.
KCibot Apr 25
First I was Mormon.
Then I was not.
Second I was agnostic.
Then I was not.
Third I was confused.
And then I am.
And so are all of the beautiful you

As I prepare for Easter
and resurrection
I remember that before I can see
her risen eyes
I first must allow
for death

Poem written on Good Friday 2019. The poem was inspired by the first photo you see when you google Kali.
Zach Schuller Apr 2016
life is changing,
i can feel it
in the movement
of the earth
its quakes its shifts
throwing me every way
but where i will land
i cannot say

life is changing,
i can hear it.
a new bell tolls
not for this new day
but for every tomorrow
as they roll onward

life is changing,
i can see it.
the light from yesterday
shines brighter
and lights more.
it is vibrant,
and illuminates all i can see

life is changing.
i can not listen
to the same old sad songs
the ones that used to
resonate within me.
a new song is there.
filling me with hope,
beauty, and faith.

i know life is changing;
the sun has finally risen.
My body was not born of a single rotten bone
I was made of ancient cells
Fed by the moon’s motherly *******
I’ve risen from your million hells
And stand above your stagnant heads
King Panda Jan 2018
you stand
and offer

the sun
not yet risen

you tilt words

into winter

you whittle
the wind

trick the sky
into death

pound my
love into stone

I scrape
my knee

and cry our
love open

to wound
and bleed

a dog attempts to
lick and heal

how could life
be this way?
Joanna May 28
An invite to venture out to where I have never been before, could terrify and confuse and even blur an open door.

A night of exploring something, new could put a different light on what is true.

But then a night of risking a step toward love could end up in what I have only recently risen above.

Or this invite could just be, the key to changing everything for me.
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