Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Joseph Miller Dec 2017
One glorious moment
God said to me
"I am here"

Tears of joy
washed away my fear
as he lifted the veil
revealed his face
radiating the essence
of all things
a cosmic oneness
filled with love
beyond imagining
the mystic sees
the infinite connection
of the ultimate power

But I a mortal being
consumed by form
it seems
God withdrew
left me standing there
in a world separate
where matter divides
and boundaries form
to close the mind
and hide the truth

Yet I am blessed
to seek the light
and find myself
witness to God
true story
RK Sep 2018
EDIT


On Awakening in the morn
After the nights respite
There is a gentle stillness
It's the peace before the fight.  

The thoughts are now in motion
The mind now in a spin
The recorder is replaying
Its mechanical habitual sin

It starts to build momentum
Like a terrorist with a gun
Engaging us in false beliefs
A battle that can't be won.

By 9am its in full swing
Like a monkey on a tree
From one branch to another
Destroying reality.

With attention and practice
We can play an active role
We can focus and observe
thoughts that benefit our soul.

A thought that's good and wiser
Creates the space to see
And it's a sweet reminder
Of a kinder way to be.

So when a thought doth enter
Depending which one it is
Remember you are the power
That rejects or allows it in.

A little voice will tell you
Don't engage or get  involved
If a thought is Self defeating
Let it's futility dissolve.

It's a matter of watching
Don't prosecute or defend
Be the impartial loving judge
Your real self is your friend

It takes time and practice
To mutate  old beliefs
For we cannot serve two masters
It's time to deport the thief.

We are the creators
With the gift of will to choose
Dispel the false intruder
your real self can not lose.  

This is a task of love
From self hate and  self doubt
A passage on our journey
We can navigate our way out.

This is our new passport
The authentic stamp our own
When the thief has been demoted
thrown off the stolen throne.
Peace
Old poem tidied up. One of the early one.
Rose Mar 28
Makin love to you
In a bathroom stall, and the
Mirror caught it all
King Panda Feb 2016
I say blood
marbled floors
and boats
somewhere on the Ganges River
Africa?
no.
wait—I think it’s
sadness
that flows out every hole
onto the plain
into the water
out of the well
all of the elephants swallowed
and digested
down to the bones
on colors
on sky diamonds
on lovely wax and wane
this river
these people
blood and guts
cooking
tradition
knowing
that it’s the last meal
to throw to the gods
in the water
Shofi Ahmed Jul 2018
She and I are so close
but no one can see.
There is no room left
for any witness to squeeze in.

The wind tried it's flowing
couldn't stand still  
neither the water did.
The seven seas danced
beneath her polished feet!

Zero space is in between us two.
By no measure its big
but enough to touch the dream!
JayceeJellies Dec 2014
At least say something.
Please don't leave without saying anything,
It causes me pain that you won't have to witness.
But it makes me wonder,
Did I do something wrong?
Carrying the mat onto the mountain top
I Lay it down on the cold tattered ground
Laying down on it, I look into the starry night sky
As the sky stares down into me
Soon the earth and the heaven collide
A perfectly imperfect harmony they weave in and out like the threads of that mat I brought
Thoughts so loud, run silent in my mind
A witness I lay, in between the mountains and the stars
Shofi Ahmed Sep 2017
Without it earth is no earth,
I (the primeval feminine)
have no doubt, the prophet
circle is my witness I touched
the bottom of her water!

Zeroed into her zero neigh
and circled it with my hair,
laid down for it the foundation
hardwired with my circle.
So in this Month your Heart begins to press
For Good October promises your Due
Thinking of Delight and Travel Costs less,
And finally meeting her through and through
Her arm must have healed, given Time's duty
No more must such Fortress wall you apart
Her, Blessed Pronoun who cheers you truly
On her own Springboard she performs her Part
As you guide Witness to her own Unique Craft,
That Guideline which does greatly Inspire
Now look! Her Swan whips the Air; And the Draft
Begs humbly deep its legs to retire.
Your Hug was her Reward; Then the Flannel
Covers your Cheers on the Upper Panel.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
ryn Jan 2015
•    
i've
   witness-
   ed the others
   fall over several
sets•leaving you alone
shivering on a spindly twig
•the winds of autumn had whis-
pered their threats...•to sweep you
off your perch into the world so big
•the season had almost gone to make
way for another•answering the sum-
mons of winter's call•had anticipated
the coming of your departure•...i had  
sworn to myself to catch you as you'd  
fall•for a brief moment, i had turned  
away•to tend to commitments that  
came with dawn...•i returned to  
stay and wait another day...•  
but the wind had come  
while i was
g
o
n  
e•
    
.
He/She lives in
Her/his thought
And
Whispers
His/Her pledges

Meet me
In the dreams

May be
This is how
The world witnessed
The poetry
Genre: Observational
Theme: Guess what?
Ken Pepiton Apr 6
I came to witness the future
Archon, archetype
an emanation of opposites.
"not every spirit is in
spiritarionic"

try 'em. Is God? Ax ye 'em dat.

Is God, ified, a re
warder of the unwarded,
or the warded?

expiration, due date duty, now,
reporting
ad hoc an'all, do you remember
who you intended
to become?

Do you remember who we emu
late, as our flames lick
next and next and next in
bubbles

axiomatic sparks stored in that
mother lode of mitochondriac
ical me-we-canicle chronicle time

reason. Ax dem ex-spirit-eers,
what is a spirtual bypass?

It's a heart way to avoid
growing old and
wise.

====
witchist, I y'know, 'r j?

alla words's once said, aloud, right?
alla words writ, once was heard, right.
check.
goodt'go. Hoorah.

the code. Who? RA! powerless sans
knowing that.
Yahoo, same set of mis con ceived
battle songs
which ended wars never fought.

the preacher claimed to have known
a poor wise man, who by his
wisdom saved a city, yet
not one of us knew,
the preacher said,
that poor wise man's name.

Ja', tha's who rah, ya'll laugh later.

this is visitation day at the comedian
rehabituational s'cool.

D'jew know why you listen to non sense,
from motley clad lads an'lassies?

Culture. Kultur. Gut biome axioms
juicin' carbs 'n' fiber. Fectin'

laughter trigger,
good meds. Good medicine, as General
Custer or Emory or somebody
said of blankets. In 1763. Oh,
You know, AI knows you know and now

we watch your eyes. Grin. All done, jest

let me with
draw the cathe.... there. All better.

Wisdom will seep through. Y'live.
Practicing precision lie belief extraction tools
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.
Francie Lynch Jul 2018
The hair is almost normalized,
The hands we hardly notice,
Real news is, with my ensemble,
A red tie splashes well.
I bear your false witness,
The hookers and the lies,
I'd get the heebie-jeebies,
If I ****** with the FBI.

But the skin, the skin,
What color's that,
That hides the blackness found within.
That wraps a frame that wracks the sane,
And covers a skull with dubious brains.
It conceals the bloated air,
From lungs to lips,
From bowels to his finger tips.
It doesn't matter how his fits,
It can't conceal he's full of ****.
In creature comforts of the West; I ponder.
     As my heart strays eastward.
           My star in the East?

"If there be a God..."
       He must be capable of entering men's hearts,
             they in turn bear witness to human suffering.

If this is so.
    How can our brothers in Syria be suffering?
             Why have they been forsaken?

"If there be a God?"
       If there be a God.
           If there be a God.
                              Allah?
Could it be possible to be like Joseph? Could a man's mind from the West inspire those disenfranchised in the East to stop the struggle and join in the solution that ends all suffering for all brothers? Is that possible?
Prabhu Iyer Aug 2018
Can daybreak ever
bring darkness home?
The dried kohl is witness:
Aeons old, such a story
has been left behind,
unsaid, unsaid;


Does spring ever bring notice
of the coming fall?
Oh the rains sometimes
bring rumblings
of miffed skies -

Shoots that drop off stalks,
have not all
fallen for nothing,


Was the little window of dreams
illusory?
Laying my head down,
stealing my sleep?

Aeons old, is such a story
that has been left behind,
unsaid, unsaid;
Easily one of the best songs in a Hindi language film of the last decade, 'Ankahee' (Unsaid) is a masterpiece by lyricist Amitabh Bhattacharya:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DR0S-ocAmvo

Notes: Kohl is a dark powder used as eye makeup in the East. Masterful use to describe the kohl-lined eye of a female protagonist viewing the pathos-laden dawn.
laura Jul 2018
stone cold killa
knockin' fellas off
they feet, ****** on the bay
writing poetry and
pushing bodies in the lake

she's a killa, man
get off on false promises
of commitment
no 5-o's, no weapon clues
no witness

i'm dead broke
i'm her next target
spending money on happiness
a poem like a wandering outlaw
us, causing sinister stares under the sunset
Deb Jones Jan 4
This is my heartache
To bear witness, to listen
As one of my adult sons
Cries from a heartbreak
Only to me will they cry
As I make soothing noises
I came to liberate lions from dungeons
I came to share and not stare at you
I came to actualize powers within me
I intend to distribute resources equally
I came to reiterate that all beings are beautiful
I came to make an impact like mountains do
I came to create music with my attitude
I intend that symphonies surround me with their melodies
I intend that children feel safe to open up to me
I came to empower dancers in perpetual motion
I intend to be a witness to the miracles of life’s radiance
I came to scream love songs into forests
I came to hear my own voice echoed by hollow caverns
I intend to create portals that we can travel through
I came to bring back the aurora borealis at all latitudes
Next page