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Delusions

A thousand bees never settling down
buzzed within his head
Their confused drone, into a ruffled rumble grew,
lengthening into frenzied drum beats,
taking the might of roaring waves
or gaining the momentum
of a plane, prior to take off.

Mind lacking coordination
Limbs receiving discordant commands
He suddenly hurtled in to the streets
Stepping out from regimented norms
And breaking loose the tether of reason,
Never walking, never running
But scuttling from side to side
Like a piece of drift wood over the current.

Hearing the cawing of a crow
Suddenly, he into a prophet grew
Stood with arms outstretched

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poem by Valsa George
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World Sacrifice

Friend, very soon the Antichrist, will offer the world as a sacrifice,
Leading into the Judgment of God, many across this earthly sod,
And what will these many receive, from the one who will deceive?
Nothing from him, they will see, as man’s reign will end tragically.

He’ll use politicians to fulfill, his Dark and Devious End Time will,
Darkened souls in full opposition, to every basic Godly position,
Gathered by one, greatly praised, who shall usher in darker days,
Asserting he is the people’s man, while supporting a Darker Plan.

As bright as these men may be, they’re politically blind spiritually,
Or quite aware of their schemes, promising many, hollow dreams,
Lying to those called their own, with allegiance to a darker throne,
Having the multitudes totally fooled, leading not like others ruled.

They’ve no concern for those, for from darker ranks they’ve rose,
To the position of preeminence, filled and lead by a darker sense,
Making haste, to change all ways, as from Truth, a country strays,
To the place we cannot turn back, never restoring all we truly lack.

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poem by Bob Gotti
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Diced, Minced and Splintered

Diced, minced and splintered!
Lives sliced and divided into morsels.
Some endure a splicing...
To increase an appetitizing for survival.
On bitter crumbs sweetened.

And teased to reach for more...
Are those reminded,
They must escape those visions...
Of being amongst the poor!

'Nickeled-and-dimed'
And entwined with needs...
To embellish relished fantasies!

Images received,
From their recently purchased...
And/or leased widescreen TVs.
Feeding how they would greatly advantage,
By having more 'things' in their diminished lives.

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poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Arakoon

Lo! in storms, the triple-headed
Hill, whose dreaded
Bases battle with the seas,
Looms across fierce widths of fleeting
Waters beating
Evermore on roaring leas!
Arakoon, the black, the lonely!
Housed with only
Cloud and rain-wind, mist and damp;
Round whose foam-drenched feet and nether
Depths, together
Sullen sprites of thunder tramp!

There the East hums loud and surly,
Late and early,
Through the chasms and the caves,
And across the naked verges
Leap the surges!
White and wailing waifs of waves.

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poem by Henry Kendall
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In Equal Sacrifice

Thus of old the Douglas did:
He left his land as he was bid
With the royal heart of Robert the Bruce
In a golden case with a golden lid,
To carry the same to the Holy Land;
By which we see and understand
That that was the place to carry a heart
At loyalty and love's command,
And that was the case to carry it in.
The Douglas had not far to win
Before he came to the land of Spain,
Where long a holy war had been
Against the too-victorious Moor;
And there his courage could not endure
Not to strike a blow for God
Before he made his errand sure.
And ever it was intended so,
That a man for God should strike a blow,
No matter the heart he has in charge
For the Holy Land where hearts should go.

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poem by Robert Frost
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Antichrist, or the Reunion of Christendom: An Ode

Are they clinging to their crosses,
F. E. Smith,
Where the Breton boat-fleet tosses,
Are they, Smith?
Do they, fasting, trembling, bleeding,
Wait the news from this our city?
Groaning "That's the Second Reading!"
Hissing "There is still Committee!"
If the voice of Cecil falters,
If McKenna's point has pith,
Do they tremble for their altars?
Do they, Smith?

Russian peasants round their pope
Huddled, Smith,
Hear about it all, I hope,
Don't they, Smith?
In the mountain hamlets clothing
Peaks beyond Caucasian pales,
Where Establishment means nothing

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poem by Gilbert Keith Chesterton
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Ecclesiastes

UNDER the fluent folds of needlework,
Where Balkis prick'd the histories of kings
Once great as he, that were as greatly loved,
Solomon stooped, and saw the dusk unfold
Over the apple orchards like a flower.
'O bloom of eve,' he said, 'diviner loss
Of all light gave us, dove of the whole world,
Bearing the branch of peace, the dark, sweet bough,–
Endure a little longer, ere full night
Comes stark from God and terrible with stars,
Eternal as He or love.

Now no one wakes,
But a lean gardener by my apricots,
Sweeping the withered leaves, the yellowing leaves
Down the wind's road. Perish our years with them,
Our griefs, our little hungers, our poor sins,
Leaves that the Lord hath scattered. He shall quench
The fierce, impetuous torches of the sun,–
Yea, from our dead dust He shall quicken kings,

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poem by Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
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Chanson d’Amour

This absence from my own country’s
So long, it brings me to death’s door,
I languish here, beyond the sea,
Weary, in comfort and joy no more,
And I greatly fear that enemy
Who slanders me: I wronged endure,
Yet feel my heart so true and pure,
Please God, no harm will come to me.

Sweet Lady mine, don’t believe
Those who speak of me in malice.
Though you no longer look at me
With those sweet eyes that took me captive,
Me, with your true heart, you’ll still see.
But whether it urges you so to live
I know not: of all things fearing this
Alone: lest you not remember me.

For lightness in the hearts of women
Often strikes fear in the hearts of men,

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poem by Gace Brulé
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I am ANIMAL...by talile ali

For the longest time
I have aspired to
so many high minded
humane goals.

Unfortunately,
I have not attained any of them
for any real amount of
time

Why?

Its not from a lack of commitment,
I don't think.
It is more about
something else.

Some would say its lust,
desire, greed, envy, fear

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poem by Talile Ali
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Faith More Precious Than Gold

Although now, for a while,
Sore distressed by grievous trial,
And your love for your Lord may grow cold,
You are shielded by Him,
To His hope you’re born again,
And your faith is more precious than gold.

How intense is the fire
Of your grief and deep desire
And the pain of the sob of your soul;
Of God’s plan you’re afraid,
And by Him you feel betrayed,
But your faith is more precious than gold.

Though He slay, you can trust
Him who made you out of dust;
He is still the same God as of old.
Though you can’t see Him now,
Still you love Him anyhow
With your faith that’s more precious than gold.

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poem by Edward A. Morris
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