"wisemen" poems
Imagine if the nativity
Took place now instead of then
With technological advancement
It'd be on the news at ten
In fact it would make youtube
A film clip at the stable
Taken by a shepherd boy
Underneath a table
The three wisemen would go on Skype
The gifts would be en route
No need to travel all the way
With the traffic in Beirut
Phone banks would be all set up
To raise funds for the birth
The internet would be a buzz
With the greatest news on earth
No camels, inns or drummer boys
There'd be no one there at all
The Angel of The Lord would be
Black Friday shopping at the mall
In fact I do not think that it
Would be a deal that we would follow
Social media and the press
Would make it all seem hollow
I'm glad it happened when it did
As time has come to pass
With Jesus in a manger
And wisemen there en masse
I don't think it'd be Christmas
If Christ was born today
Without a cd or a movie deal
Or a sport that he would play
Christmas is...and always will
Be the story we were told
I'm glad it didn't happen now
If I may be quite so bold
Unto man a child was born
And he, the son of God....
Dec 3, 2013
Dec 3, 2013 at 11:51 PM UTC
"Notice me Senpai"
Something that started as a joke
But now it's just fact
But if you try to tell me that
You were just kidding
I will take my bidding
I'm the winner of the prize
Oh yes I am
Wisemen of the wise
You were always my favorite
I was always celibate
You said I was full of it
Maybe in the moshpit
Say my name
No not that one
Say the one you say to me
When you're lonely
Say the one that will tame
The one that my heart won
Dec 17, 2014
Dec 17, 2014 at 3:23 PM UTC
Incarnate devil in a talking snake,
The central plains of Asia in his garden,
In shaping-time the circle stung awake,
In shapes of sin forked out the bearded apple,
And God walked there who was a fiddling warden
And played down pardon from the heavens' hill.
When we were strangers to the guided seas,
A handmade moon half holy in a cloud,
The wisemen tell me that the garden gods
Twined good and evil on an eastern tree;
And when the moon rose windily it was
Black as the beast and paler than the cross.
We in our Eden knew the secret guardian
In sacred waters that no frost could harden,
And in the mighty mornings of the earth;
Hell in a horn of sulphur and the cloven myth,
All heaven in the midnight of the sun,
A serpent fiddled in the shaping-time.
3.5k
Ajoke, daughter of moremi,
Beauty is a predicament in your lineage,
Your beauty bring out star at night,
Stars even told the Wisemen about it.
The beauty that runs in your blood,
Mama kola makes a lot of profit at dawn,
When men gathered to drink and speak of
Your beauty.
Each making a bet to have you.
Ajoke, your ęwa(beauty) is angelic,
Your tiny voice is mellific,
Your dimples is intoxicatic,
Your ostrich legs so charismatic.
But your beauty is delusive,
Think not that a derisive,
I must be Ilucinating!
Stop appearing in my dreams,
Come to my reality!
Jul 5, 2016
Jul 5, 2016 at 9:22 AM UTC
Across the hills, across the plains,
Across the sands and seas,
He searched for poems and refrains,
For wonders never cease...
While there's a child within God's heart
And His remembrance, too,
The Poemhunter scans for art,
Esteems each point of view...
Across the noblest hopes and dreams,
Ideals and fancy thoughts,
The spectrum of Man's mad extremes
Proves that it takes all sorts...
While there's a vision, judge or law,
Or simply self-control,
The Poemhunter must explore
Their sanctity, their soul...
He reads the rhythms, rhymes and rules
That writers would relay,
He heeds the wisemen, sighs at fools...
Lets God guide him His way...
While there's a cherished childlike prayer
That words can somehow bless,
The Poemhunter's search will share
God's Truth and happiness...
Denis Martindale, copyright, August 2010.
Denis Martindale 1300 poems
http://www.poemhunter.com/denis-martindale/
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 11:47 AM UTC
God gave the wisemen their wisdom,
and to the poets their dreams.
To father and mother, their love for each other
but He left me out, so it seems.
I went around brokenhearted
thinking life was an empty affair
but when God gave me you,
it was then that I knew,
He'd given me more than my share.
May 1, 2015
May 1, 2015 at 9:13 AM UTC
On a snow blown day
In the month of December
We gather 'round fires
And watch every ember
Listen, my child
To the old, true tale
Of how we have help
Whenever we fail
"Shepherds were watching
Their flocks by night
Wisemen did follow
A star so bright
A mother and her baby snug up so tight"
Foiled the greed of the world
With that one spark of light
08/12/2010 and earlier
Jul 10, 2012
Jul 10, 2012 at 5:13 PM UTC
Do you think they knew?
Huddled in the stable on a crisp cold “December” night.
Animals & Kings. Shepards & Virgins. Wisemen & Angels. Him.
Whether you believe or not.
Its a touching sentiment.
Do you think they knew ?
That theirs was the first of 2012+ to come
Their celebration of his birth.
Would haunt humanity forever.
Every shop, Every house, Every child.
Because of him.
Man or Myth.
Still it's a nice idea.
Do you think they knew?
That, that modest celebration would become a global phenomenon.
That the few would become Thousands.
And the gifts would become... Frivolous.
Giving would become wanting.
Still, its a lovely time.
Do you think they knew?
That the Shepards and Wisemen would become Superstores and Marketing executives.
That Soft drink corporations would control our holidays.
That getting gifts for loved ones would become battlefields.
That children whose beliefs were any different should be alienated and bullied.
That their love would become ...something else.
Still, some of the songs are quite catchy.
I wish you a Merry Christmas. I really do .
Dec 24, 2012
Dec 24, 2012 at 6:01 PM UTC
I know you still can't breathe
And your ribs burn
But I love it
When I finish laughing first
Because for a moment
I am the insomniac
Enthralled by the lucid dreamer
(your eyelids flutter)
I am the Catholic
Entranced by the shameless drunk
(your hiccups slur)
And your giggles pop like
Bubble bath and boiled syrup
And everything is funny
Everything is spine-chillingly funneled
Your sprite and shrieks nosedive
Into my bloodstream
Spike my heartstrings
And your cheeks
Swell and splotch and squish
Into those sparkling eyes
Until they gush
And you try to stop it, but
Like gagging on lake water
You can't
Not until every sprinkle gets spewed
And baby, there is so much
So much beauty
Spawning inside of you
So much to share, and I starve for it
I soar with it
And for a moment
A dreamer stirs the city
A drunkard saves the world
The children stump the wisemen
As you shake the cobwebs
From your ribs
For one more second
Reality is fragile
Love is tangible
And nothing else is
Sep 19, 2018
Sep 19, 2018 at 1:12 AM UTC
All intellect is dissected
Through the tunnel visioned perspectives
Stretched thin
In a stream of feed
Producing the illusion of need
Projected from old men
Who grin
Below the suicidal idols
Of the rivals
And glutton in the maniacal sins
Commenced
By brain dead Americans
Painted in the amens of the dense
Commending the hymns
Of spent casings
Atop the blood of babies
And maybe
One day
It can be better
Than the clever endeavours
To sever the head of the predators
Washing our hands of their sedatives
And delivering the skulls to the slavers
But we are pay dirt
Shoveled into trucks to work
For a leafless tree
Ready and wanting to believe
In anything
That doesn't see our deeds
As we
Are manufactured with the greed
Of sleeved wisemen
With five of a kind
In the fight for life
Putting our souls
Upon our rites
We bet
Despite the path of right
Infringing on the height
Of success
In excess
Of the tests message
We are the blessing
Of a warning
Within a forgotten story
Historically denoting its anointing
We are the disappointment
Of the warrior
Defeated in a court
Of corrupted consorts
Sorting out the blueprints
For a new fort
Distorting the borders
Of moral disorders
With orders to ****
The hoarders of will
We are the shrill screech
Of a dying world
And we are alive
But dead
Born to ****
Batteries of a shield
Building hell
To sell heaven pills
May 19, 2013
May 19, 2013 at 3:32 PM UTC
Another year almost come and gone and
Christmas day is upon us once again.
Today’s Christmases full
Of gifts, hour long lines, last minute shopping
And Stress!
Life moving at a breakneck pace; never slowing,
People not sparing a small coin to put in the Salvation Army bucket.
I wonder if we would all make better presents
Than the ones we receive on Christmas-
With how wrapped up we are.
There are those (not to be forgotten) who do something kind
For someone else; Sometimes anonymously.
Though I feel that, through the years,
We have forgotten what Christmas really is.
Christmas isn’t about bows, ribbons, or tags
Nor is Christmas about packages, boxes, or bags.
What is it then? Go back about 2000 years or so to the very first Chrismas
A very cold, dark, winter night in a Bethlehem barn a young woman gave birth
To a son Jesus “Emmanuel” meaning (‘God With Us’)
On that night the witnesses to Jesus’ birth were
A few shepherds from nearby fields,
The animals in the barn, 3 kings (wisemen they be), and a poor drummer boy.
The kings brought gifts to pay homage and honor to the babe
The drummer boy had no gift to bring, but played a song for the child
All was bright, calm, peaceful that night
The warmth of love and light
Overpowering the cold, dark, winter of that Bethlehem night
Oct 22, 2013
Oct 22, 2013 at 11:33 AM UTC
Opie Okies,
pursed lips,
Midwestern turn,
of phrase,
Grubby,
makeshift enterprise,
Whose building,
has ol' ***** wisemen,
sittin' on the porch,
chewing the fat,
of the fish caught,
cheaply from the dock,
Their faces branded,
a top the flickering neon billboard,
A majestic pile of gleaming ****
A ****** statement,
under breath,
That is America today
Nov 14, 2014
Nov 14, 2014 at 4:54 PM UTC
The Pale horse came foaming
From a dissipating cloud
The sound of all Hells army
Heat between our fingers
Radiating wonder
Draining bucket after bucket
On the alter we rebuilt
The color from your face is lost
Ravaged you like cancer
Arrows of fire
Poisoned you with fever
Hot sweat boiled between us
As I wait for you to go
But your dreams are perfect
Beneath a shaded oak tree
You fell asleep with me
Flowers growing and dying around us
Trails of sailing clouds
Thin enough to breathe
Fingers are a wonder
Touch softly on my face
Warm or cool it didn't matter
Heaven thank you for taking her
Heaven keep her
The mountains here are cold
I stumble on them alone
The deserts are dry
Sand no longer chokes you
Or cuts your eyes
I drag through them alone
Silent seas of blood
I only wish to drown in
So I can be with you
Hail of fire falls
And I cry for the rocks to fall upon me
Your picture now smeared and faded
As the seals are broken
I fight scorpions with the body of a lion
And the face of a man
As the heaven white ******
Walks on the seas
The dragon circles the shore
Searching for her scent
The wisemen bow before him
Giving gifts of gold
As the book of life is opened
And my name was not called
Breaking from the line to find you
But millions line the streets
Behind me he thunders
Depart for I knew you not
Sent to dine with Hades
As your candle in heaven is covered
In the black sulfur
Heated beyond any fire
I can smile as you sit beneath an oak
In some corner of heaven
Dreaming about me
What god would not allow
True love to break the gates of fire
Feb 20, 2012
Feb 20, 2012 at 9:04 PM UTC
I seeith soo many Wisemen here
Yet doth thou follow thine own teaching?
I seeith soo many lovers here
Yet doth thou showeth that other half love?
I seeith soo many hurt ones here
Yet doth thou not know somebody loveth thou?
I seeith soo much hate here
Yet doth thou knoweth loves the answer?
I seeith soo much cutting another down here
Yet doth thou even want to listen to one? Not just heareth!!!
I seeith soo many complaints here
Yet doth thou tryeth to do anything about it?
I seeith so much shame here
Doth thou not knoweth God forgiveth all?
I seeith soo much guilt here
We only haveth today,
Not tommorrow reader of awee.
I seeith soo much
Yet soo little truthful love
I seeith
Through a prophetic crystal ball!!!
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 10:43 AM UTC
Christmas Presence
The time of year is upon us once more
Filled with travel, shopping, stress
Running here, over there, buying this, giving gifts,
Ever more and ever longer Christmas lists!
Busier than bees in the summer, nuttier than squirrels in the fall
It's a wonder how we live at all!
We never bother to stop or pause or even slow down,
But what if we did? What if we dared to take a step back;
See beyond what we have to find what it is we lack.
If we go back to the beginning I think we might just find
Some Christmas presents of a slightly different kind.
A child was born a cold dark winter night,
Three rich wisemen brought expensive gifts and travelled many miles
A poor drummer boy played a song for the babe
But the greatest gift of all that day
Was the birth of baby Jesus
Sent to earth to give us great gifts:
The gifts of His mercy, forgiveness and grace,
The gifts of His love, wisdom, and compassion.
But the greatest gift of all was he gave us His LIFE! Died so we might live.
Every day He is with us, we are surrounded by His presence in our hearts and in our lives.
Each morning we wake up is a gift from God and every day and night He is with us.
We celebrate Christmas just one day a year, but Christmas is really all year!
I hope that we do not too quickly forget what is truly important and what Christmas really means.
Christmas isn't about the ribbons, the bows or tags,
It isn't about the packages, the boxes or bags!
It's together with family friends and loved ones to remember the gifts that they are;
Jesus gave us the gift of His PRESENCE, may we be PRESENT to Him and a GIFT to all both near and far!
Dec 25, 2013
Dec 25, 2013 at 6:34 PM UTC
Traveling along down that long dusty road
Carrying within a heavy load
You journeyed far as Christ in-dwelt
A warmth that would cause ice to melt
You went forth to Bethlehem: house of bread
With no guarantees only Spirit led
From there he came forth to shine the light
That pierces even the blackest of night
Born in a stable not a place to call your own
But that night love itself came home
Shepherds and wisemen and animals send
Honor to the king as on knees they bend
They came from fields both near and far
Following the radiant wandering star
They pay their respects and you hold it in your heart
Could you have known the truth right from the start?
You son would come to redeem and save
But to do so, he would first be in a grave
Was it quiet and still on the first night was all the world at peace
For we received the presence of the one who frees
As a mother you wrapped him in your loving arms
As a mother you tried to keep him safe from harm
As a mother you danced when he laughed and wept when he cried
You held his body in your arms again when he died
As a mother you walked beside him as he went
You trusted his plan even if you didn’t see at the moment
As a mother you were present and you cared
You comforted your son when he was scared
As a mother, show us your son that we too may know
Him and follow him and likewise grow
May our faith be strong and may it never die
May the well run deep and the living waters never be dry
As our mother, we look to you for compassion and healing
As our mother intercede on our behalf as we are kneeling
Be with us always and give us the grace
To look around us and, everywhere, see Jesus’ face
Bless and protect us and forgive us I pray
As we battle to move forward day by day
Dec 8, 2017
Dec 8, 2017 at 8:46 PM UTC
The Third Joyful Mystery:
The Nativity: *The ****** Mary gives birth to the Redeemer of the World*
Mary is betrothed to Joseph when Caesar orders a census to take place. Joseph finds out that Mary is pregnant and he is thinking about quietly divorcing her when he has a dream. In this dream an angel appears to Joseph and tells him that the baby’s name is to be Jesus Emmanuel, meaning God with Us. Joseph, though scared and unsure, like Mary, also chooses to trust God that Mary was not pregnant by another man. Mary and Joseph travel all the way to Bethlehem where Joseph’s family lived. By the time they arrived in the little town, Mary was heavy with child. They could not find a place to stay for Mary to have her baby when finally they found a stable to spend the night at. The baby Jesus was born into poverty and humility. It was smelly and ***** uncomfortable and cold. Jesus was placed in a manger, a trough, where the animals ate and drank. His only guests were the farm animals there, a shepherd boy with his sheep, a poor drummer boy, and three wisemen who came from very far off to pay homage to him. The Christ Child was born into poverty and humility, yet there was also great happiness and peace that cold winter’s night (the first fruits of the church). We pray Thank you God for sending us your Son to be born of the ****** Mary and become a man like us. The Redeemer of the World was born in poverty and humility. Help us to remember that not everything is as it seems. It doesn’t matter how much we give as long as we give all that we can. For this, help us to remember the woman who gave all of what she had which was two copper coins. Savior of the World, help us receive you as the world once received you so long ago. We love you and thank you! Amen
Dec 18, 2014
Dec 18, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
Fluorescent messiah born in a haze of marijuana smoke,
Baptized in stale beer basins to be sacrificed to the hallucinogenic sunset
Half blinded by the stars like iridescent angels swimming in the reflecting pools at the edge of periphery
And of their blood and body the people lined up for miles to make offerings,
To pay tribute at the feet of the once and future king of the wasteland
One by one by one the wisemen wept and the shepherds sang blind hymns to the flock
And the Sphinx was the only one brave enough to ask the question,
If the form is blessed and the essence black, should the Son be blamed for what the Father lacked?
Swept up in a tidal wave of holy disgrace and blissful in deranged glory
Hallelujah, he is Risen!
Like the flag hoisted above embattled Eden
Kicked in like a broken door by savages on the prowl for petty victory worthy to hang above their mantle
But indomitable still, even crucified, martyred on a cross of felonies
And on the day of Last Judgement, when the Second Coming is at hand
Will Paradise echo the elation of the believers?
Will the kingdom of the Most High relive it's former glory?
Will the wasteland know peace again?
Maybe, brother
Maybe Eden is for the birds, and Paradise is better off burning
But the faith, and the love, are not so easily destroyed
Mar 3, 2015
Mar 3, 2015 at 12:19 AM UTC
the clouds have a rift
that bleeds sunlight
down on the thought machine
that grinds a steady pace
of meat upon which the bearded wisemen must chew
only they can interpret the bones cast
like oracles of old
only they can see the fates
so i rise and step carefully through the empty door
thinking that it once held such promise
the morning is rampant with people
and id rather not speak till
i have a grasp on what im not thinking
so i retreat to the filthy carpet of her hole
the muttering continues into the night
and no matter how many times i step to the hall
he just stands there and speaks to the window
open and blowing soft
he tells the night
that hes not frightened anymore
he will do that till dawn
then he will crawl to his screaming bed and try to sleep
nothing prepared him for the slow torture test that hes been dealt
keep on keeping on till you cant keep on no more
she walks in and shakes off the rain
scattering droplets of her passing
she looks at me with open questions
but the closed fist of her mouth speaks louder
than any words she could muster
they strike my mind with painful reality's that
have never seen the light of day
she just made them up to justify
and i make it clear that i wont stand for it
as i lay here and absorb her verbal fantasy's
wish sometimes i could be like him
and just whisper the world away
dream away the words
in the hallway of the building
on the vast ***** white tiles
she absorbs the nights festivity's
with the jaundiced casual hand of a lifelong soul thief
with the barrenness of a wasteland for a heart
i look upon her with growing need to
simply let loose and walk away
this is no place for me
for i am alone
Nov 19, 2013
Nov 19, 2013 at 2:11 AM UTC
I can picture pumpkin rain
Falling from October’s sky
Even wisemen dare to try
Reason’s gambrels to enchain
Though,
When this pulp falls on the leaves
And by liters floods the streets
We shall dance under these drops
While we sing grotesque swift songs
I can picture pumpkin rain
Falling from October’s sky
We no longer can remain
Dry
Jan 8, 2019
Jan 8, 2019 at 12:11 AM UTC
Heard powerful words move men to
action
“Hail ******
Millions of innocent souls lost deaths
so hideous
ironically
there are no words to describe
“I have a Dream”
50,000 Americans march onto their
capital to claim the God given right
to be equal.
The same words
Moving through time
staying strong
to where 30 years later
a small white girl
3rd grade
in rural Kansas
echos those same words
in a report on how the world ought
to be
I have seen great words
lost and alone
Concealed beneath pages
Stacked on lined walls
Masters who have manipulated
even the most minute syllable
to affect how you feel, learn, believe.
Vaporized to the literary abyss of the
library Knowledge untapped
Mute wisemen.
Last words
spoken
Desperate to sum up a life in one
B—R—E—A—T—H
what to say......?
what to say......?
One last, “Tell my, fill in the blank, I
love them.”
Or cheaters who manufacture
manuscripts
to be read at their own funerals
pre-written, pre-thought-out ovations
of pathetic lives in an attempt to give
them worth. Sadly, still trying to fool
others by sounding spontaneous
extemporaneous
Even after their heart STOPS
Jul 12, 2020
Jul 12, 2020 at 12:31 PM UTC
Descendant of proud tribesmen and daughter of mighty rulers,
I am the honored heir of warriors and wisemen.
Born and blessed with the bent of words,
I was bestowed the gift of Babel.
Survived the sight of my sanctuary
Being turned to a battlefield.
****** into war without a warning,
I danced with Death from dusk to dawn
Until I became the light and lured it away.
In the fight against life’s fatalities,
I vowed to be victorious. I swore to survive.
Sacred with a soldier’s soul
And the spirituality of saints,
I am destined to move mountains.
Unfazed and unapologetic, I am no longer afraid
Of the flames, for I have become the fire.
All the damaged petals, all the painful days,
All the broken pieces are the proclamation
That I prevailed. Pride pumps in my veins
As harmony and peace hum in my heart.
Jan 23, 2019
Jan 23, 2019 at 8:27 PM UTC
Fools are hosting idiots as wisemen
And playing guests to lies
Living in palatial paradise of fools
Alienating themselves from truth
Thousand heads on a Leviathan
trunk feeding on lies!
A world of fleeting illusion in delusion!
As falsehood parades in confusion
Sunshine will appear in its armour
To swallow the dark and its shadow.
Jun 2, 2019
Jun 2, 2019 at 1:42 PM UTC
to be himself a star most bright
to draw the wisemen to his side
to be himself a voice most sweet
to call the children to his feet
to be himself with gentle eyes
to see the dead and bring them life
to be himself the Son of God
to call me chosen and beloved
i’ve seen his face, I know the voice
he calls to me
i’ve touched his scars, and felt his wrists
i’ve seen the truth
holy, holy god
holy, holy god
you are love
you are love
to be himself and bring us light
to bleed for us a sacrifice
to be himself a humble king
to take upon the curse of sin
to be himself a spotless lamb
to sit with god at his right hand
to be himself redeeming love
to raise me up along with him
praise him
praise him
all ye little children
god is love
god is love
Aug 5, 2019
Aug 5, 2019 at 3:29 PM UTC