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Should You Tame A Blaze Of A Distant Song

Give it a name and raise it to the throng
Of children weeping through wind broken eyes
Of wind swept children if the wind token dies
In the sight of darkness across the world stages
A song unheard before within each act enrages
An innocent child slapping adult sages
Across the face of earth
When a burnt child hand touches
An extinct fire hearth
When ash unlearnt encroaches
Its flame still eating
A suffering fruit
Its heart still beating
Though the song is mute

poem by Miroslava Odalovic
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As The Red Wine Into The Cup Is Poured

Christ the Lamb upon the alter stone.
Christ the sacrifice to atone.
Christ's blood, the wines a token.
Christ the bread that was broken.

As the grape was crushed to make the wine
so Christ was crushed for sins of mine.
As the red wine into the cup was poured
so Christ for me His blood outpoured.

As the bread was broken that we share
so Christ was broken upon the cross there.
'Father forgive, ' I hear Him cry
so I could live He was willing to die.

poem by Royston
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To His Sister

Loving Sister: every line
Of your last letter was so fine
With the best mettle, that the grayne
Of Scrivener's pindust were but vayne:
The touch of Gold did sure instill
Some vertue more than did the Quill.
And since you write noe cleanly hand
Your token bids mee understand
Mine eyes have here a remedy
Wherby to reade more easily.
I doe but jeast: your love alone
Is my interpretation:
My words I will recant, and sweare
I know your hand is wondrous faire.

poem by William Strode
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The Irony In Your Beauty

No longer thriving
This fire ceases to exist
Shall I take care of what remains?
Devoured answers all turn up again
What am I to do, for what am I to do?
A token of appreciation dangles above your head
The irony in your beauty
We will never have to buy a plot of land
Wave a farewell to the heights which you did not stand
Only to peer to an angry ocean below
Never again will you have to leave
I have lost to drinking
I should be laughing right now

poem by Brandon Nothing
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Empty Presence

I found a lifeline in you, glass of wine
And I gave my blood to you
But my heart is on loan from a long time ago
To the man that made me surrender to you

If it were up to me I'd be rid of it all
But I just can't release
My grip from him or the bottle
Though both become empty, they tease

Persisting to provoke, always present
But fleeting and leaving a trail as a token
Of tears and red drops that are Hell-bent
On reminding me that all that's left is false hope indefinite

poem by Argentine Tango
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Out Of The Ashes

Tears in my eyes
But there's no time for rain.
My heart is like a window:
Nothing but pain.
Shattered and broken,
Just leave me with a token
Of what was
But never will be,
No matter how hard we've been hoping.
Life for me ain't no crystal stair,
Langston Hughes never lied,
But I no longer care.
I don't need the world's pity,
Life is not supposed to be fair.
Problem is,
I'm still torn,
It's all up in flames.
Dead.
So I mourn.
Yet out of the ashes of the dead,

[...] Read more

poem by Denice Robinson
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Mockery

Why do we grudge our sweets so to the living
Who, God knows, find at best too much of gall,
And then with generous, open hands kneel, giving
Unto the dead our all?
Why do we pierce the warm hearts, sin or sorrow,
With idle jests, or scorn, or cruel sneers,
And when it cannot know, on some to-morrow,
Speak of its woe through tears?
What do the dead care, for the tender token—
The love, the praise, the floral offerings?
But palpitating, living hearts are broken
For want of just these things.

poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox
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Beyond Price For M lady Catrina

I find delight in simple things.
I do not yearn for luxuries,
A tiny gift lends my heart wings
Because he’s chosen it for me

We are not rich but have enough
to pay for our necessities.
I do not need expensive stuff.
A token’s always sure to please

He is my man and does his best
To ensure he fulfils my needs
Though other folks are not impressed.
I have no doubt that he succeeds.

What others think irrelevant
He is my man and I’m content.

9-Mar-09
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers

poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Glory!

Another milestone gained and passed,
Another 'rakkud' broken,
And this year's deaths exceed the last,
Which is a hopeful token.

America can ne'er look back;. . . .
She is the land progressive
She keeps along the onward track
With 'vim' and pep excessive.

For they who meet and meekly sing,
To mark a celebration,
Such trifles as 'God Save the King'
Make no real 'he-man' nation.

The U.S.A., from south to north,
Recounts the splendid story,
For it sure is one Glorious Fourth,
When hundreds go to glory.

poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis
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Thunderstorm [1]

I saw the thunder flashing down
and yet another one again,
heard the rain splattering,
suddenly a torrent splashing
from the dark sky

and most people were overjoyed,
some queer chaps annoyed
to have to hurry unprotected to their cars,
hating to get wet
some would have loved to just sit in the bars,
to have another drink or two
but their wives were waiting

and the rain was falling on those I love
and on those that hate me
as a great token from above
coming fair and free
from the hand
of God almighty.

poem by Gert Strydom
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