"upwardly" poems
I wanna grow old with You
I am living for You
I am serving You
But Lord, it's all because of Your grace.
Like a tree,
I will be rooted in You
Deeper and deeper
Will fall in love with You
The wind will blow
But surely, I will remain
Standing still
Knowing that You are my God.
I will grow higher
Upwardly, You'll see me
Some of my roots
Will be lateral
Grinding itself to the ground of Yours
To Your promised land.
I will be like Redwood Tree
Interconnected with other roots
We'll have the connection of love
Of great encouragement
To strengthen each other
That none may fall.
I will grow outwardly
That I may bear fruits
That will last forever
Taste my labor oh Lord
May I please You.
I will grow inwardly
There's a hole in me
That only You can fill
Lord, I will love You more
The more empty I am,
The more broken I am,
The more you'll move.
I praise You
And I will rise for You
And flourish the Kingdom of Yours
Help me indeed
Fertilize my soil
Give me the living water
I exalt You!
Jul 20, 2014
Jul 20, 2014 at 11:35 AM UTC
He’s a material man
On a material planet.
Gobbles up money like a gannet.
Seeking status and promotion,
Upwardly mobile is his motion.
At his side is Madonna’s Girl,
In for a diamond, in for a pearl.
This poor creature has no soul,
Making a fortune his only goal.
Grandeur or Greatness is his God,
For the beauty of Nature he don’t give a sod.
This man doesn’t know what he is missing,
Life’s simple pleasures and Love’s real kissing.
Who really needs all those houses and cars,
Or getting seen in swanky bars?
What’s so fine about a designer label?
We seem to have built our Tower of Babel.
This man will be deaf to these words of mine.
The only mine HE wants, is a glittering Gold Mine.
Humanity divided into Rich and Poor,
Anyone sensible knows the score.
Nations chasing seas of oil,
While back at home the slaves they toil.
Waging wars for piles of money,
Everyone knows it isn’t funny.
Any hope for Material Man?
Unless he changes, he’s down the pan.
Please sir will you open your eyes?
Only Love is loved by the wise.
Paul Butters
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 5:27 AM UTC
We're at the point of almost melting
Hellish heatwave is most sweltering
All of us getting an absolute baking
Thermostats are all upwardly rising
Abundant solar activity is happening
Skin on our faces akin to pork crackling
Copious amount of water we're drinking
Our sweaty brows are in need of mopping
Relief from the heat we're always seeking
Cool locales like long verandah shading
Hades is where us folks are now dwelling
Endless hours of excessively high temperatures
Reductions in these would be such a pleasure
Jan 13, 2014
Jan 13, 2014 at 7:06 PM UTC
I attract artsy people! 78%
Those free spirited artists with great imaginations find you interesting. They are usually interesting themselves, so its not a bad thing, but they CAN be a bit wifty and choose odd goals. If you like life to always be a bit 'different' from the norm, but not too extreme in any one direction, these are the people for you. If you seek logical decision making skills and good money management, you may want to change something in the way you appear. Artsy people are fun for adventure and exploring, so, have fun! (smoking **** helps too)
58% You attract geeks! (<My comment: Some are cute tbh)
54% You attract Yuppies! (<My comment: ''Young urban professional" or "young upwardly-mobile professional.'' Not bad)
54% You attract models! (<My comment: They're fine)
46% You attract unstable people! (<My comment: To true. It never fails)
14% You attract rednecks! (<My comment: I'm black! Aren't rednecks racist?)
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 10:01 PM UTC
Head tilted upwardly opened. Eyes closed.
Ceiling desired and lulled.
He is the silhouette of a dream,
Ashes and dust,
Smoke and smoke and smoke,
Carcinogenic and mine.
He opens his mouth to speak,
Smoke,
Shrouded in carbon and yearning.
He is the reason I drift,
He is forgetting who's air I am breathing
and remembering the flames I used to be.
Jan 15, 2015
Jan 15, 2015 at 10:07 AM UTC
I guess you didn’t know
That I have a lost and uncomfortable soul.
She screams and shouts to overcome the pain
But without uttering a word because fear is in reign.
Is it all in my head?
Another discerning dread that she feared and left unsaid.
How did I get here?
This black funnel and clouded sphere have her trapped inside with no hope to adhere.
Like an impending doom forever encompassing everything she’d once dreamed
All the things that used to be will now never be—at least that’s how it seems.
Not knowing what to feel or how to bestow her love
All hope for that was ruined with the very first shove.
How does one proclaim the truths of their heart?
If everything they’ve ever loved always seems to get ripped apart?
Forever afraid of the what-ifs and of the worst
All because of that stupid ******* **** who immersed.
Thrusting all of her hopes and dreams into the chasm of perception
What used to make sense has now seemed to be blackened.
Happiness used to prevail inevitably, or it at least seemed attainable
But can now only be hastily found with the help of an Rx bottle.
From afar her eyes sparkle and shine like the rarest of diamonds
Cerulean blue like the water surrounding the tropical islands.
If she refuses to let you in, you’d never believe she was so sad
But even the waters of paradise conceal desolate bad.
He’s sent her on a spiraling staircase slowly down to hell
Forced to suffer one small step at a time, while he upwardly propels.
I guess you didn’t know
That I had a story to tell.
I guess you didn’t know
That my soul is not well.
I guess you didn’t know
That I have been enduring hell.
I guess you didn’t know
Because I’m trapped in a distorted and torturous shell
Desperate to find the one who holds the key to unchain me & cast away this spell.
Jan 25, 2013
Jan 25, 2013 at 8:53 PM UTC
The sun’s demise bequeaths my birth beneath the outward heavens.
A glitter of the heavens caught within a twinkle of my eyes.
Travels on the shore lead into the isle, converging upon the core.
Galloping through fields of grain under the starry dearth.
The voluminous trees approaching entry, darkness towers evermore.
The trail adulterated by weeds, thorns; leaves wilting, rotting logs.
A beam of singular light from the canopy given by the silvery moon,
The ray guiding out of the brush unto the yonder blue darkness.
Here at the foothills of the forever peak, a glance upwardly shot.
Moon and stars eclipsed, light extirpated; the fog lies lower than the peak.
Scaling treacherous red glared boulders, sliding rocks collapsing beneath.
Blood rasped hands grapple and cling in the storm of fog.
The zenith of the world…perched; scanning back to the fog
Of lightning and incandescent famine; a tear rolls down the rocks.
Glaring up to see the stars and moon, warmth pounds behind me…
Pivoting to see the mountain gauntlet traversing into the promising sun.
Feb 12, 2010
Feb 12, 2010 at 7:54 AM UTC
he was 65, his wife was 66, had
Alzheimer's disease.
he had cancer of the
mouth.
there were
operations, radiation
treatments
which decayed the bones in his
jaw
which then had to be
wired.
daily he put his wife in
rubber diapers
like a
baby.
unable to drive in his
condition
he had to take a taxi to
the medical
center,
had difficulty speaking,
had to
write the directions
down.
on his last visit
they informed him
there would be another
operation: a bit more
left
cheek and a bit more
tongue.
when he returned
he changed his wife's
diapers
put on the tv
dinners, watched the
evening news
then went to the bedroom, got the
gun, put it to her
temple, fired.
she fell to the
left, he sat upon the
couch
put the gun into his
mouth, pulled the
trigger.
the shots didn't arouse
the neighbors.
later
the burning tv dinners
did.
somebody arrived, pushed
the door open, saw
it.
soon
the police arrived and
went through their
routine, found
some items:
a closed savings
account and
a checkbook with a
balance of
$1.14
suicide, they
deduced.
in three weeks
there were two
new tenants:
a computer engineer
named
Ross
and his wife
Anatana
who studied
ballet.
they looked like another
upwardly mobile
pair.
May 12, 2015
May 12, 2015 at 2:46 PM UTC
I
How will you remember me,
will you form my shape as is my way,
my veins swollen with a veiled rejoice
that hides my burial chamber beneath
a shrouded veil of contempt.
Who will remember me?
A fighting roaring man drunk as sand
an outside storm that weathered faces
in a rising sky full of snow horsemen,
that draw your eyes upwardly
then fall below their peculiar time.
II
How shall I be remembered?
A lover that blazed a trail every midnight,
he that stole and sold hearts in a single beat,
fashionable runt, cool in summers heady days
that ran from a friends sisters bed before her age.
Who would remember?
The love the labour the sweat
the boundless hours working for cruel light,
a family pace of a snails want
that sweet cruel need that never shy’s
and I am bound by my fragile word.
III
My brother, my sisters voices I hear with a clear ring
gutted on cold stone ground in frost
and I knew love before my maidens mouth
whispered through thickets of thorns and bramble.
Who will remember them?
It’s the breath from those that rant,
clergymen with fierce eyes that talk in fondness,
yet would perish when their birds fly unknown
before deaths curtain is closed and comital spoke.
Lost in my map, my life, my day in poise.
IV
Now I sigh long into the day.
My steepled church sky soars far above me
and days grow shorter with every passing mouth.
Saints and sinners ride together in fallen flames as I look for an open eye in this mudded rockpool water.
And I remember;
with long armed embrace
that I kissed maidens lips
when they were young with starry eyes
and was carefree with strong clasp of bone
and in this third season fall Autumn was taught that forever was my sea, but a few hours between.
All this long before my grave and dying light.
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 7:14 PM UTC
From thigh to eye
the wind whistles your name
The echoes collide,
Inside.
I think I feel
the same again,
a distant voice,
A broken wheel;
sharp glass gloves and a clenched hand holds nothing
For you to know me.
Still.
The urge to tame
That which is seldom glimpsed
by what right
is that by man alone by night;
a quivering pulse
Untainted since
a moment when
I too,
held someone tight.
Too late to stall
An hourglass bears the name
grain by grain
its fleeting
Too slow to move,
To re-direct
a moment’s peace;
I call your name
each time
I’m breathing.
Some secret place
A shelter from the storm
a place unknown to me
Beyond this haven;
a miniature maelstrom
Return (again)
to reflect on what could have been.
Now
I Am
Slowly dying;
These moments
maybe lost forever.
A whispers tears
in stealth marks a sullen face.
In memory,
drifting aimless, still,
I call out your name;
the space the echo fills
is left speechless and misplaced.
What spurns you on?
What last reward?
Enlighten me
My Queen!
Upwardly fast
slice through old paths;
this bramble bush
of broken dreams.
From head to knee
unbeknown, I chase thee
For these fragments
lost and stolen
Till then,
My Love
I shall remain
and
I will always be
meaningless
and
swollen
Nov 16, 2012
Nov 16, 2012 at 10:04 PM UTC
Bare rose colored lips spitting Minnesota slush.
You thrash expertly with an accelerating fury,
Like a volcano spewing molten lava,
Cursing upwardly.
You stared up from the cold rock ground.
Monstrously,
Savagely.
Seventeen steps away from me.
You beat Satan’s rooftop with fists full of anger.
Aggressively,
Ferociously,
Now ten steps apart from me,
The beating orange ball made your fury grow.
With a rising intensity.
Now five steps from me.
Your lavish brown hair finally resting on your shoulder
Cautiously,
Patiently,
One hand away from me.
Mar 19, 2013
Mar 19, 2013 at 4:59 PM UTC
BLOOD,SWEAT & BEERS
New dawn new day cup of joe to begin the day,starting in line helping to create more urban decay
Waiting out winters feeding the flock, spring warmth brings bringing ceaseless hours for that new crop
Daily mail brings new news while men in a truck pick up the muck,while another prepares to make repairs while caught up in the drudgery
Clerks & cashiers line up with peers at home behind desks or registers ,more & more simply wanting to beat that clock
Many in uniform protecting the rest from the next storm ,defending all of us & themselves stubbornly
Famous factories forged many generations in fire ,painting a lifestyle for many to admire,building a nations foundation in solid rock
Times change ,full circle to a broad range ,equal rights brings new light ,hoping to help move many upwardly
Wheels of rubber or of steel always moving ready to help seal a deal ,someone at the helm across the nation or around the block
Many more labor with lumber like ants on erector sets,from floors to steeple ,finalizing with grass & shrubbery
Miles of coastline mean fisherman don't flounder,line or net they get what they get anything to feed the ever growing flock
Others eager to learn for new knowledge they do yearn ,teachers take on the task to guide the classrooms fortunately
So paid in sweat equity or in blood for the brood, many gather at the end of the day
but never forget to tip the barmaid or tender at your local brewery. R.C.
Sep 4, 2017
Sep 4, 2017 at 7:36 AM UTC
Humble shadow sprawl
oak fingers stretching out
breaking quiet astral glow
in crossings on your cheek
with one closed tearing eye
the river forms
A silent and weary wind
whispers to exposed moon
you're lifelong miasma
going by night upwardly
back again for hours at best
with morning sun.
Feb 23, 2014
Feb 23, 2014 at 3:28 AM UTC
With every passing day i keep getting use to you,
On one, it's quasi-upwardly projected stone, it travels until it gets to a certain altitude then descends on full tilt cause the force that pulls it up expired..
Another quasi-object with a slight weight lifted so high by a whirlwind, floats a while in the air then descends on slow tilt but in all cases what goes up must surely come down..
You caresses my system into a state of ecstasy..
But with all these feelings, there is still a cloud of dark matter in our horizon..
It hurts, cause i don't comprehend the source of this darkness..
I dont want to make promises that i cant keep, forwhy? i care it not just the feelings, it's hurt that is attached to it quasi-towing tug, cause i care..
I've a lot of past promises that i fail to keep,
So dont get it twisted, if im not making promises,
I dont want to hurt another just like the others.. cause i care, cause i care, coz i care,
May 31, 2020
May 31, 2020 at 1:19 AM UTC
He had tied the brown thread on the pole
relieving the spirits from trees for the start
of belly dance of death on sand dunes,
whispering, gyrating to the tune of an
invisible snake charmer. Salaam
ambrosia, you had pledged to unhole
the milk bath, black waves will crash on the
windows, that I dream was true, god will
have the nativity for mankind and planet
earth will redeem peace.
Let us first accept the defeat of eternity,
and wounds will leap on, pouring upwardly,
aimlessly to defy the diktat of gravity,
contents you will know one day, watching
the birds fly away to warm lakes, that needs
a precision, geometry and courage
to glide over the tallest peaks.
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 10:43 PM UTC
. these deep uply
)whom i'm become
as you'm
i'd like to with (
achingly clutch
the whim whisper
the sure hum
and crisp vibrance
of white white mouth;
always starrily
always upwardly
: body
of snow in June(
whose light pertness be ).
whose own wish nothing ever
so be could:
as white.
as mouth.
Jun 10, 2014
Jun 10, 2014 at 5:47 PM UTC
Sharp edge of a coldfront
stands west of Dells,
a rigid lead line on a ridge
where the leanin' broke-roof barn
stands ready to take in buckets.
Ain't been scavenged
for old wood yet,
for picture frames,
sold,
where the upwardly mobile,
shop for the quaint, rustic things,
reshaped for authenticity,
and a clipped last year
wall calendar
image of a red barn
in a yellow field,
below a blue
cloudless sky,
following
the perfect rule
of thirds.
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 6:13 PM UTC
Upwardly mobile moving as it radiates unconscious of the energy it creates
Mapping our mind as we come to find again new places from unknown spaces
Almost a tease with which some ease into it's cradle,waiting for the new level it elevates
Circling & cycling feeling the shadow as it begins to grow,pressing pressures of the phases
Some say eye in the sky, but we watch it, not in reverse,masterful with which feelings it delegates
Sensations magnified as it's brightness cast ,many reaching out to sing it's praises
Mirror of the Sun it is the lesser one ,helping with calculations of man,many bonded as soulmates
Rising then falling crescent to full ,waning or waxing ,brightness to blackness always helping to mark our days
Forcing natural habits ,laying patterns marking out situations ,part of our soul is in what it narrates
For the joy of spring brides & rising or falling tides ,many feel as a predictor of weird & quirky ways
Bright beaming leaving many screaming ,slivers mere quivers,again varying for which moods it dictates
Another night with the Moon will be waning soon ,leaving leaving the warm sun and another day to play. R.C.
Dec 16, 2016
Dec 16, 2016 at 4:48 AM UTC
*The office was intimidating
On the upper floor of the skyscraper.
The attractive woman conducting
my interview was dressed for success.
She entered into her pitch
We pride ourselves here as a
Prospective marriage broker
Not a common dating service
Our fees reflect this.
Only the most upwardly mobile
People geared for success are accepted.
Our computer programs will match you
With your perfect partner.
Compatible in every way.
Perfect she reiterated.
Would you like to become a member
She asked.
Reflecting for a moment
I declined.
Surprised she asked
If I could tell her why.
I responded.
Well! I would be afraid
That in searching so hard
For my perfect match
You may miss the imperfect
one that would
make me so very happy.*
Aug 29, 2015
Aug 29, 2015 at 7:04 PM UTC
he was standing in the shadows wearing a skirt with a black bag over his head. in the other corner of the room was a mouse ******* the blood from a frog and eating a cornflake. Grandma then walks in.
''SO I HEAR YOU HAVE THE SPECIAL?
WHAT WHAT IS IT?"
'not today madam,
not today''
''WELL *** YOUR ****
FAGGOT''
and grandma walks away
and sits on a beehive where her ****** is consumed by fire ants
and detritus
material.
James
rides on a floating peach into the sunset and the moon kind of smiles
upwardly
to him,
but in a condescending manner like how the school nurse would treat you upon
showing her
your gouged eyes.
LAUGHING
LAUHGING
TRA LA LA LA
TRA LA LA LA
vladimir putin is ****
with his
beer gut,
Trump --
well I'm just throwing that in to be 'CURRENT'--
hillary is in a bush
more ''CURRENT STUFF''
to be 'hip'
and 'with it Y'ALL''
in my room tugging on a ****
watching home movies
from '92
still breathing
but not really sure if I'll make it.
better days are ahead
Jul 18, 2017
Jul 18, 2017 at 8:41 PM UTC